#If I think about it for too long I feel like I'm going to fucking combust
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shut up and put your money where your mouth is
max verstappen
tags: smut/pwp, driver!reader, rivals au, bickering/fighting, married in vegas, drinking, doggy style, rough sex, dirty talk, hangovers, 2.5k words
a/n: happy las vegas gp everyone!
wheel to wheel. toe to toe. cheek to cheek.
this was the dance you did with the three time world champion. the rivalry that put mclaren and red bull up against one another. and in the lead up to the las vegas grand prix, it was you and max's world and everyone else was just living in it.
"you should smile more." he said at the bar in one of the casinos on the strip. he pinched your cheek and you wanted to bite him.
you replied shortly, "i'll smile when you give me something to smile about. don't think i forgot the last race." you were barely edging max in points with the season wrapping up.
he just smiled, "i know you'll be smiling when i bring it all home in a few weeks. don't you worry." then pinched your cheek once more.
damn max verstappen.
the rivarly started years ago. max was the youngest rookie and you were a few months older than him. along with being the first female in far too long. the hype around your arrivals to the sport caused you two to step on each other's toes. both of you felt an overbearing responsibility to be the best. your father breathed down your neck on the track just as much as max's did down his.
and even after years in the game, you were both painfully in each other's orbit. so much so that your dear teammate oscar once said, "i'm pretty sure if you two weren't in formula one you'd be married by now!"
you replied with a laugh, "oh please, i'd never! not in a million years." but last vegas was the city of opportunity, and before an exciting weekend you went out for a few drinks with your rival. and as much as the city has opportunity, it was still sin city.
enough gin and tonics for max to feel a little more relaxed. and enough cranberry-vodkas to leave you feeling warm all over. what sent you over the edge with him was his flushed face and him undoing the first few buttons of his shirt. your eyes raked over his almost exposed collarbones and you shifted in your seat.
you swallowed and took another hearty drink, which only fueled a sexual fire in your belly. you felt something hot run through you at the sight of him. you looked away to try and not think too hard about it. you played with the gold chain around your neck.
max leaned forward and narrowed his eyes at your neck, "did i buy that for you?" he put his arms on the table and his expression was drunken as he said, "wearing what i bought you?" he laughed, "if i know you'd wear it. i would've bought you a ring."
you felt heat rise in your cheeks more, "i think people would get the wrong idea. we're supposed to hate each other. the headlines would be insane, max verstappen buys ring for his rival."
he chuckled, "well, you are my favourite." he swallowed and darted his gaze quickly, "my favourite rival." then took another hearty sip of his drink.
you licked your lips, "just a rival?" you asked softly. the liquor emboldened you and you let go of your necklace. in a moment of weakness you reached for his hand and asked, "not even friends?"
max swallowed, "not friends."
you felt ice wash through your core at his words. a tightness in your chest prevented any words from coming out.
max realized in his drunken haze that he only said half of the sentence. when you pulled your hand away, he was desperate to grab it back. shock crossed his expression, "no, no! not like that!" liquid courage made him say the words, "not a friend. a lover."
the words tumbled out of your mouth, "verstappen... i'm saying this on the most certain terms... take me. fuck me. do whatever you want to me." you swallowed.
-
you held the trophy over your head. you beamed with pride after your country's national anthem. you did it, you won the first race of many. as max then sprayed you with champagne, there was a single thing on his mind.
you'd be his one day.
-
you made it to the elevator with max in tow. you were headed to his room. you held his shoulders who he held you to kiss you deeply.
"as good at kissing as you are at racing." you giggled.
"oh, are you giving me a compliment? never heard that before." he smiled at you. he had you by the waist.
"don't get used to it. if you don't make me cum, then i'll never let you live it down." you held his face for a moment, "i will tell everyone that the great max verstappen can't make a woman cum."
he pressed you further against the wall of the elevator, "oh don't worry, i'll make you feel good."
the elevator dinged and you both stumbled out of it. max trapped you against the door while he loomed over you and tried to open it. it was hard to kiss your heated skin and open a door at the same time. on top of being drunk.
"focus on one thing." you groaned.
"if i do then i'll be fucking you in the hallway. and wouldn't that be the scandal of the season." his words struck something in you and when the door was opened, you were pushed inside.
when you caught your footing, you got your heels off. max wrapped his arms around your waist and picked you up. while you weren't stick thing (couldn't be in formula one, not with all that force), but max was simply stronger. he got you both over to the bedroom before he cornered you. you squirmed and he said, "stop moving or i'll drop you." and soon got you onto the king sized hotel bed.
he undid al the bottoms of the shirt and got his belt off as well, he stripped those from himself along with his slacks. in just an undershirt and his briefs in the end, he got onto the bed with you. the dress would've been torn off of you if you weren't fast enough. max groaned when he shoved his face between your soon bare breasts.
"just like i imagined." he groaned. his hands were at the waistband of your panties, "fuck. i need more." and while he got your panties off, you got your bra off.
"you really are excited." you shuddered as your hand up under his shirt. his shoulders were framed by the straps of the undershirt. he looked a little more domineering, which only raised the heat in your body.
"how could i not be? look at you!" he purred before he got the white undershirt off along with his dark briefs.
both of you were naked and tumbled fully onto the bed together. you kissed him once more until you ended up on your stomach with your face in the pillows. max admired your strong back. being a driver meant exhibiting a strength which you presented in spades. strong in so many ways, which was an aspect that pulled max in.
enamored was a term he could use. but that implied it was casual, but max's feelings were far from casual. you were next to the blood in his veins. the spark in his life, the heat in his soul.
he lined his cock up against your soaked cunt. he felt drawn to you, like a siren's call. he couldn't help it, he had been needing this for a long, long time. he sank into you and you felt the excitement of pleasure rush through you as you laid out in the bed.
"at least a decade in the making." he groaned, "ten years, ten years i've been wanting you." he felt a moan leave his lips. two drunks fucking in an expensive hotel room. two multi-million dollar drivers rutted together with a hot passion between you two.
"fuck, don't make me feel old." you buried your face further into the covers and arched your back further. pleasure bloomed through you. you could never truly hate max. it wasn't in you.
max leaned in to kiss you on the centre of your back as he moved against you. his hot breath against you warm back, he felt the thrill of pleasure as he worked you slick cunt. your pussy felt like a dream, while drunk, you still felt perfect. you let out a soft moan as he moved.
"fuck."
"please, max."
"i know."
you were near certain that this was what the entire grid was hoping for. you knew that people shipped you two together. you see the edits, the reddit threads, the fan art, the fan fiction. and you knew the paddock talked.
you gripped the soft pillow under your face and you whined a little bit. the wooden headboard rocked against the white wall of the bedroom. you hoped that checo's room wasn't on the other side. you'd never hear the end of it.
max wrapped his strong arms around your middle and continued to fuck you. he moved against you. his cock bullied against your g-spot and you were left breathless. you wanted him, you wanted him in ways you never thought you'd ever admit.
max lit a fire in you. to push yourself harder an further, you were only as strong as your ability to match max. and your rival made you the best. you clutched onto the pillow and felt a stagger in your heart. your mind was filled with pleasure, but also the liquor. in some way, vodka only made things feel more intense.
you felt it race through your body as the two of you fucked on the soft bed. the slogan from vegas was true, anyone could get lucky here. and you got rather lucky with max.
he held onto you tighter, his strong arm around your middle as he rutted against you. it was a protective feeling to you and you loved the feeling. you guessed that he was a protective force in your life, no one bothered you with max around.
you hissed into the pillow and you felt the surge of intense want. this was a feeling you wanted to feel again, again, and again. you held on tightly and the immense heat just dragged you into the depths of pleasure.
"please, max. i want you. fuck, i didn't know i could want a rival so badly. you're as much in my soul as the engine of my car. ever since we met, i knew you'd be a force in my life. i need you more than i need anyone else. fuck." you rambled, muffled by the covers, and max loved it.
you were always delicate with your words and to hear profanity leave your lips so freely made max run hotter. the way you spoke as you lost all rationality in your head.
he had an effect on you, even on the grid and you wanted to kill him. you never did, not when he looked at you with those beautiful blue eyes. he was your weakness, hence why you were rivals. the pleasure continued to mount, the feeling was electric. it made you hold on tightly, your back arched as he worked your body. you felt on cloud nine, not a care in the world. the want rolled through you and you moaned his name out loud once more.
"fuck, max!" you came around his cock with your nails dug into the pillow. he pressed himself up against your back and continued to fuck you with a feverish face.
the bed creaked under the both of you and the over stimulation made your head swim. you felt the heavy rush and he only kept moving against you. sweaty chest up against your sweaty back. thrusting against you, the pleasure built up in his brain.
the pleasure reached its peak and max slammed his cock as deep into you. he tried to get as deep as he could get and it made you climax once more. he rode out his orgasm, and soon he slowed to a stop. he felt racing in his chest. he wiped sweat from his forehead then kissed your back.
"max."
he pulled out and laid out next to you. he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you close to his chest. he peppered your face with sloppy kisses and you melted at his tender touch. even with his caring touch, his words caught you off guard, "fuck, let's get married."
and as you got lost in his eyes, you nodded, "sure."
-
the sun come morning burned and you turned over to look away from the window. you cracked open your eyes and the hangover weighed on you like a heavy blanket. you were met face to face with max, who was asleep beside you.
your eyes went wide and you pulled away from him. your chest tightened as you pulled the sheets closer to your chest. your heart leapt and you swallowed. when you looked down at your shaky hands, you saw a ring at your left hand. a shocked noise left your lips at the sight of it.
the ring was a gold band with a small diamond. you swallowed, there was no doubt what it was. you got very drunk and you got married. a nagging feeling of who you married was soon answered when you saw max shift and he had a matching gold band on his ring finger.
this was only confirmed when you opened instagram. and the post you were greeted with was of your hastily put together wedding. you looked happy as you kissed him. it felt like the rest of the platform was in a tizzy over this sudden wedding.
a sports reporting outlet had the caption, "mclaren's princess has tamed the bull!!" with a photo of you at the alter, your lips against max's. the next post read, "verstappen ties the knot with long time rival before the las vegas grand prix." you stomach sank and the reality was a cold splash of water.
post after post, reactions from what felt like everyone. you only came back to focus when you felt max's arm drape around your waist.
"max, we're in trouble..." you swallowed.
he slowly opened his eyes. he held onto you tightly for a moment before he kissed at your side. his expression was dreamy, still asleep as he let go of you. his expression changed suddenly when he noticed the ring on his finger. his eyes went wide before he took your hand and saw your ring.
"oh..."
"max, say something." you tried again, your voice tight. you felt the immense anxiety through you. what would the fia say? what would the press say? what would every other goddamn driver say?
it was bad enough people speculated for years about you two, but to have it come to reality was terrifying. but max didn't seem as scared as you.
he looked at you, only to shift closer. he kissed your side once more then said, "well, good morning then, mrs. verstappen." <3
#bunny writes#reader insert#formula 1#formula one imagine#formula one smut#formula one fanfiction#f1 smut#f1 x reader#max verstappen x reader#max verstappen#max verstappen x you#max verstappen smut#mv33 smut#mv33 x reader#mv33#mv1 smut#mv1 x reader#mv1#mv1 fic#f1 rivals au#rivals au#driver!reader
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Normally I'm the sorta person that puts things in the tags, but it's difficult to deliver the thoughts I want without it just running on too long. I'm personally not in the position to make sweeping judgements of how *audiences* prefer shows, as I've kinda tapped out of that whole thing and pay less attention to takes on media. Although expecting instant trauma and emotion sounds ridiculous. - In the Fullmetal Alchemist manga they don't even show the big Human Transmutation Moment until like... 23 chapters in. It's just dripfed up to that point. - You don't understand all of the specifics as to why Mr. Harrier Du Bois drunk himself into amnesia until you piece it all together from experience throughout the whole game. Culminating in Dolores Dei on the last day. - Kurapika's ice cold demeanor is as disturbing as it is because you've seen how much kinder he can be, and how far he's fallen since earlier in the story. It's not simply the things that happen to him either, but the actions he DECIDES to take. All of these examples present characters who clearly wear some kind of Big Shit on their sleeves, yet it isn't all given to you immediately. And with proper leadup to their emotional moments. Granted, they come from media outside of strictly western TV shows, but I think the lack of patience from both writers and the audience can represent themselves in any media. The goal is to make you *feel bad*, or feel at least feel *something*. And the idea is that this makes a story or character more compelling. How do you hook an audience? You hit em where it hurts. And sometimes it feels as if there's a certain gut punch feeling they're looking for. But there needs to be something of substance to actually CARE about. You need to build up your characters, your world, your story, before you start making people feel something. Especially in the case of characters, you need to establish who they actually ARE and what they care about. It doesn't always have to be the trauma. And trauma can take many, many forms. Negligence, despondence, listlessness, etc. The way they respond to it is often informed by the kind of person they are, even if that part of them may irrevocably change afterwards. Some may not even realize they've experienced it to begin with and are unaware of how it has shaped them. Characters are the beating heart of any story. Any good one is more than just all the trauma you can load them up with. Your plot can be mid as fuck, yet people cherish it anyway because the characters are good. Which, by god, can take form in more ways placing them in cold drop dramatic moments or delving into their backstory from the get-go. And every story needs a little time to breathe. Space out the big moments, build up to them when appropriate. Too much is emotionally exhausting at best, and feels insulting or manipulative at worst.
Man is it just me or are a lot of TV shows nowadays are written to have big emotional episodes in scenes with very little build up.
#There's also an even LARGER conversation to be had about story pacing#And how this greatly impacts the kinds of stories you can tell#As well as how effectively you can tell them#Pacing is like texture in food#It's the conveyor of flavor#If it's shit then your work is immediately brought down several letter grades#Even if it still tastes good#Why I prefer series over movies#Unless the story is appropriately scaled and paced to account for it being a movie#I also had an unhinged comparison to draw between Ori and the Will of the Wisps and the InFamous series but this is too long already
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64 / 4.1k / soap soulmate au, final part
...
"You doing okay?"
Hearing Graves’ voice knocks what little breath you had out of your lungs. It's been months, but that's him. Your old boss. You never thought you'd hear his voice again.
"I've been better," you say finally. "Been awhile."
"Yeah, it has," he says. "Wish you'd've called me to catch up sometime, rather than under the circumstances. You don't sound too banged up. They treat you alright?"
"I'm fine."
"I didn't ask how you feel. I asked if they roughed you up."
You feel your own temper shorten in response. "I need you to call KorTac off."
There's a pause. You can imagine his frowning face, the way he's thinking that one over. "I'll take that under advisement," he finally says, but you can tell he's not going to do what you ask of him. "Puttin' me in a predicament here, kid. You're giving those boys a hard time, and here I thought I was helping you out. Paying your bail, so to speak."
"It’s more complicated than that."
"Always is. Let’s just have you dropped off back on base with us. You can clean yourself up and we’ll talk."
He waits for your crisp yes, sir, but it never comes.
He speaks again. "You got somewhere else to be?"
"I can't go back."
"Can't or won't? You got something you ain't tellin me, soldier?"
"I said I can't go back. And I'm not your soldier anymore. You're not my boss. I don't work for you."
"You know Shadows don't leave one of our own behind. Not to rot in some CIA prison cell. So lose the attitude," he says, voice like iron. "This ain't a good time to play games, kid. You're comin' back with me because I spent a pretty penny on you. You owe me. You have your personal business, fine. Come on back to base and let's talk this out face to face before you go makin' any hasty decisions."
You're so frustrated it's hard to form words. You should be grateful. You know that. Graves doesn’t pretend to care about his men. He cares enough to lead from the front. But you met your soulmate, and you can’t act like it didn't change you. You need to make things right. You also can’t exactly tell Graves you kind of sold him out.
"Hey. Focus up." He doesn't raise his voice to a command. Still, the order is in his voice, and you have been long trained to follow your commander's orders. Then he sighs. "What happened to you, kid?"
"You betrayed the 141. You killed innocent people in Las Almas, looking for them."
You can almost hear his jaw working behind his clenched teeth, the muscles in his face tight. He does not allow this kind of disrespect. "You think I like what I had to do? General Shepherd's orders were clear. We followed them. 141 did not." He huffs out a sigh. "I didn't enjoy it. But that's the job. You of all people know that."
You swallow. "You told us they were our brothers. You killed innocent people, Commander. Johnny said he saw you do it--"
"Johnny?" Grave's voice rises. "You on a first name basis with Soap now?"
"We all know what happened in Las Almas," you retort. Your skin goes hot at the way he says Johnny's name. "I won't work for Shepherd anymore after that. I won't fucking do it."
"Don't pull that with me." The warning is written in his voice. This isn't like you. To the Shadows, you’re calm. Cold. You don't lose your temper. You don't talk back. Especially not to Graves. "You think you can walk away at the drop of a hat just because you don't agree with an order? It doesn't work like that. You follow an order, even if you don't like it, even if it pisses you off. You don't get to decide what you think is right or wrong to carry out. When I give you an order, you follow it. That's your job. Your loyalty is with me. Not with the 141."
"I did my job."
"Then act like it," he snaps. "Stop acting like I'm some evil bastard out here. I made the only choice I could. Task Force 141 was not supposed to be there. They knew my orders, and what did they do? They came after my men, went behind my back, screwed us over. We did what we had to. You wanna be pissed at someone? Be pissed at them."
You glare down at the ice, but say nothing.
"You know I'm right." He knows you. He's getting to you. "And you know what else I find interesting? You don't seem a bit surprised to hear me alive." His voice is too casual and sharp as a knife. "Didn't you get the memo? Did no one forward you my obituary, soldier?"
You stiffen. You're not supposed to know he's alive.
"You're an awful liar. Always have been." He pauses for a long moment. "It ain't easy, surviving against the 141 if they want you dead. You know how I managed it, soldier?"
Yes. "No,” you retort. “And stop calling me that. I'm not your soldier. I don't work for you anymore."
"The hell you aren't. Maybe you're not on the payroll anymore, and maybe you're no longer under my command, but once a Shadow, always a Shadow. That makes you my responsibility. And my goddamn headache." Something shuffles on the other end of the line. "You know exactly what I'm willing to do to keep one of my Shadows safe. But if you're so keen on turning yourself in, fine. I'll have you in front of Shepherd's desk first thing tomorrow. Is that what you want? You know Soap and Ghost put Shadows in the ground that night in Las Almas."
"Shadows tried to put Johnny and Ghost in the ground first."
"This isn't about who shot first. This is about you." His voice is dangerously low, but he keeps his temper in check. Then he huffs a laugh. "You keep callin’ him Johnny. Makes my brain itch." Johnny MacTavish. John MacTavish. Yeah, that's it. "I'll be damned," he mutters.
You touch your exposed soulmark compulsively as if to hide it. Most soldiers hide theirs, but yours has always been tough to cover up. He's seen it more than a few times.
"Got you right out from under my fuckin' nose."
Your stomach tightens. You feel too exposed, like suddenly he’s putting the story together--how 141 got in.
"Shoulda known. Shoulda known. You know the military has a registry for this shit. There are rules. What's wrong with you?"
"I made a mistake," you mutter.
That might be the funniest thing he ever heard. And he's heard some good jokes. "You don't make mistakes, kiddo. You never have. That's not how I trained you." He's right, and you know it. "But hey. Guess it's true what they say about it."
"What?"
"Soulbonds. Make you take your best-laid plans and raze ‘em. Full scorched earth.”
“This isn’t about that. I’m making this decision on my own.”
“You think?” He takes a puff on his cigarette. “I don’t. I don't blame you, either. You sure as hell fought it as best you could. Didn't give in to save your own life. If that's not the soulbond making your decision for you, soldier, I don't know what is."
You look up at the sky. For all the time you spent working with Graves, that past version of you might as well be dead. Maybe that’s the grave you’ve been digging. "I can't work for Shepherd anymore. I won't do it."
"You're a good soldier, 86. You were loyal. I still think you're loyal, even if I'm not who you're loyal to," he finally says. His voice is still calm. It doesn't make you feel any better. "You know if you choose to walk away from this, the next time we meet might well be as enemies."
"Then I guess we won't meet again, sir."
He says nothing. Then he lets out a long huff. You really are going to do him dirty. You can hear his scowl. "That's a damn shame, kid. But you have more of a spine than I gave you credit for," he says. There's a tone of reluctant respect to it. That's as close as you're going to get to a compliment from him now. "You're a loose end, then. You'd best stay well out of the way. Mine and Shepherd's. I hope you're not making the wrong choice, 86," he says quietly. "I really hope you're not."
"It’s out of your hands now. And pay KorTac," you add. "Pay my squad. They did their job."
That makes him scoff. "Now why would I do that? You might be a traitor, but you're still my investment. You were worth more on my payroll than theirs, and that’s a fact I intend to maintain."
"You owe me," you remind him.
"Don't push your luck," he warns. "You're an asset. You don’t get the privileges of rank anymore. But, well..." He sighs. You imagine him with his heels kicked back on his desk, cigarette in hand. "I’ll tell you what. I’m in a charitable mood. I'll pay them off. I'm a man of my word when the time comes to pay off my debts. Hell, I’ll even throw in a tip for a job well done." Despite the annoyance in his voice, you don't doubt he'll do just that. "But that doesn’t mean I trust you anymore. I trusted you once, and you went rogue. I let you go now, that means I expect you to keep my secrets. Don't you go singing if Shepherd puts you in a chair. You got that?"
You glance up out of the corner of your eye at Soap, whose hands are still clenched in tight fists at his sides. "If Shepherd puts me in a chair, he's the one who's gonna sing. Not me."
Graves chuckles. "You're a good soldier, 86, but you can't take on an old war dog like Shepherd. Leave that to someone more qualified."
"Like who? You?"
"As I said, you best steer clear. I don't want to hear your name again." His voice hardens, and you hear your old commander again. "Good luck, kid. You'll need it. And give Soap hell."
You toss the phone back to Horangi. He listens to what Graves has to say. Then, eyes meeting yours for a moment, he wordlessly moves out away from the river, leaving you weary with relief. It's over. Finally.
Soap watches him disappear into the trees. Then, he looks back at you, alone and shivering on the ice. You look half-dead, bleeding, and your lips are near blue. He wants to make his way to you, but the ice is scarcely holding you. It won't hold him, too.
"Oi," Soap calls. His voice is rough with anxiety. "Get over here. You're gonnae freeze to death even if you don't fall through."
You blink up at him. Standing in the rising sun the way he is now, he looks like someone’s guardian angel. Yours? You'd like very much to be wrapped in his wings.
You make your way over to the bank, but the rocky ledge up is slippery and icy. Behind you, between the ice where you're standing and the bank, there's a yawning gap. To your left, there's a bridge, but snow has already melted off the surface of the ice, and it looks thin. "There's no way up," you call. "But downriver..."
"No’ a chance in hell I’m going to let you try to cross that," Soap says as he approaches the edge. "You'll be swept away and drown, hen. You're not in any condition to swim, and even if you were, that river's too bloody fast to risk it."
"Then what do you suggest?"
His eyes sweep over the river once more. It's wide; too wide to attempt a jump across. The ice has fallen in, leaving it almost impossible to make it to the bank. It isn't safe. The longer you stand there, the more the ice cracks under you. He admires your guts for putting yourself on the line like that to get back to him, but damn you. His blood pressure has never been higher.
Soap throws off his pack and slings his gear onto the bank. "I'll pull you up."
"But..."
"But nothing." With the adrenaline still pumping through his system, Soap thinks nothing of the risk of the bank collapsing under you both with his added weight. The only thing on his mind is getting you back in one piece. "We both know damn well, if I was the one on the ice now, you'd already be down there trying to help me, so for once, just shut up and let me help you."
Can't argue with that.
He pulls out an ice hook--mountaineering equipment; he was prepared to climb this mission, luckily--and offers it to you.
You toss the grenade as far as you can in the opposite direction. Then you raise your hands to grasp the rope. He's holding the sharp end and giving you the handle. You try to keep hold, but as he lifts, your bloodied hands slip just as the grenade explodes nearby, too close, spiderwebbing the ice with a final crack.
You land hard, break through, and disappear under the freezing water.
Soap has never known panic faster than when he sees you go under.
He dives after you. He has to get you back to the surface before whatever air you had in your lungs gives out. Your survival is his survival.
He finds you in the rushing black abyss when your fingers hook around his sleeve. Wrapping his hands around your arms, Soap anchors you to his chest.
You come to in his arms. You're colder than you ever have been in your life. Your fingertips tingle in pain and numbness. He's carrying you ashore somehow--far downriver, thinner ice--and he ducks into an old cabin with you in his arms.
Soap kicks the door shut behind him and moves into the cabin to set you on the floor, propping your back against the wall. His hands work fast as he pulls out his knife to cut away your soaked thermal clothes and gear. You dip in and out of consciousness until he wads up a fistful of gauze and packs it into your side wound. The sudden pain chokes you. Then a wave of nausea washes over you. You’d like nothing more than to tell him where precisely he can shove that gauze, but you’re too lightheaded.
"You with me, hen?" His gruff voice wavers. "I need you to stay awake."
He gathers you up in his arms and lifts you into his lap. It's a tight fit, wedged underneath the frosty window and between a table and an upturned stool. You register the warmth of his skin on yours and dimly realize he's stripped both of you almost bare, huddling around you to prevent hypothermia.
You soak up Soap’s body heat instantly. He's a furnace, and he needs to be, given the state you're in. He tucks you as close as he can. You're both shivering, but he doesn't care. He can be cold as long as you're warm. His broad body shields you from the drafts leaking into the decrepit cabin.
"No, no, eyes open." He tilts your face up as your eyes flutter. "Don't go passin' out on me."
You gaze up at him in your stupor. Maybe it's the blood loss, but even through your own pain and frustration, he's the most gorgeous thing you've ever seen.
"You have really odd eyes," you mutter. "Like blueberry soft serve."
Oh, you're definitely delirious. Maybe concussed.
But he can't deny the look you're giving him right now makes his stomach flip. The sight of you in his lap, your frost-scorched fingers wrapped idly around his ID tag and staring up at him like he's just pulled the moon out of the sky for you... it's the first time he’s seen you with your guard down.
He swallows and keeps you pressed against his skin. There’s a lot of blood. He can’t tell what’s yours and what isn’t. "You're in no shape to flatter me."
You hum, your fingers dabbing idly at a smear of blood on his chest.
He doesn't move to stop you. Instead, his eyes flick down to your hand. Your fingers leave a trail of sparks over everywhere you touch.
With a soft sigh, Soap catches your wrist. "Quit it, hen."
"Quit what?"
"Teasin'. Makin' me wish you'd put those hands to other uses," he says, voice quiet and rough. It's just you and him in the little cabin. The world is far away. His thumb rubs against the inside of your wrist, trying to bring some warmth back into your skin. "You're in no shape to be feelin' me up, either."
Your head lolls against his shoulder. "Maybe it's the perfect time. Maybe we won't get another time."
Hearing you say that twists his insides into knots. He leans down to rest his forehead against yours. "Maybe you just need to shut up and let me take care of you. Don't talk like that." His voice leaves no room for argument. He tightens his grip on you, pressing you closer as if he can somehow press that into your skin by sheer will alone. "There'll be plenty of times for you to get your hands on me."
"Mm." You tuck into him tighter. You'd be mortified with yourself if you weren't half-dead from blood loss. "Sorry."
He exhales into your hair, pressing chaste kisses there.
You're practically in his lap, the two of you tangled into each other from head to foot in the space under the window. He's surrounded by the smell of you. It's a soothing presence in all that surrounds him.
He shouldn't want to touch you, shouldn't want to take advantage of your weakness--but the thought of having you so open and wanting, of you willingly in his arms, makes something in him ache. Makes the selfish parts of him scream.
"You're a pain in my arse," he says. He focuses on taking inventory of your wounds, brushing over your arms with his touch to assess the damage. "You gonnae bleed out on me?"
You shiver a little as he drags you closer by your bare thigh. "Wouldn't be the worst way to go."
"Oi," he snaps in warning. He slides his hand up your side, checking for bleeding. It’s just as much a caress over your bare skin. He has to ignore how his skin tingles every time the curve of your body slides against his in that tantalizing way. Something in his lower belly tightens. "You don't get to tap out after makin' me go through all this trouble for you. You're livin' through tonight or else."
"Or else what?"
"Or else." He moves his hand up to the base of your throat, his large, calloused fingers wrapping around your neck and tilting your chin up to look at him. He fixes his blue eyes on yours to take in the dazed expression on your face. "I'll drag your arse out of hell and tan it until you can't sit right."
You're too weary to laugh, but you rest your scuffed cheek on his thumb, and it pushes your lips into a smirk. "All for me?"
"Aye. Hell of a lot more trouble than your pretty face should be worth."
You pull free and rest your head on his shoulder again. "Where do you live?"
"Glasgow," he says. "Not sure I should be tellin' you that."
You trace his chest around the chain of his ID tag. So many muscles. "Probably not."
"And what about you? Do I get to know?"
"No. Maybe. If we get out of here."
"Yeah? Well, you're not goin' anywhere with this wound. Bleedin' out, nearly froze to death, and still mouthin' off. No idea how to shut up and be good." He looks down at the injury, assessing how bad it really is in the dim light of the cabin. "You lost a lot of blood. I bet you feel tired." He brushes your hair off your face. "Stay awake a bit longer. The boys'll be here soon."
"I shouldn't," you mutter.
Soap doesn't miss the slurring of your words. He knew the blood loss would affect you, but he was hoping for more time before he had to really worry. "Shouldn't stay? Too late to get away from me now," he says, trying to keep his tone casual. Your skin is too cold for comfort. The gauze in your wound soaking through with blood can't mean anything good. "I don’t trust you as far as I can throw you. Sure as hell not letting you out of my sight. You've got a lot to repay me for."
You try to keep your eyes open. Every blink is more sluggish than the last. "Like what?"
"Runnin' away and makin' me chase after you, for one. Puttin' yourself in the line of fire for me, second. Takin' a swim in a frozen river. Scared me to death." He presses his lips to the crown of your head, a gentle, chaste touch at odds with the possessive, dominating instinct he can feel creeping into his thoughts. You're vulnerable right now, something he should never want, but part of him wonders if he’d ever have caught up with you without this. "Aye, you owe me. First thing we do once you're patched up? We have a long talk. We have a whole hell of a lot we need to say to one another. And you'll answer every question I ask you."
"I dunno if you'll like the stuff I say," you mutter.
"Hardly matters. You’re plenty keen on spittin’ fire at me as it is. No reason you can’t keep tellin’ me everything I don’t want tae hear."
Another shiver wracks your body.
Soap rubs your arms. "You gotta give your word you stay awake for me, aye? Stay here."
His radio beeps nearby. You huff. "Fine."
"Fine." He leans over to grab his radio and tries to keep an arm around your shoulders to keep you warm as he does. He keeps you cradled against his chest as he responds to Price.
"Soap here."
You don't hear the conversation. Instead, you listen to Soap's voice vibrate through his chest. He speaks to Price in hushed tones, talking about your condition and the team's ETA.
Price has a laundry list of questions, but Soap manages to wrangle them into holding off until they have everyone back on base. No sense exhausting you on a mission that's already been a shitshow. Finally, they're done. Soap lets the radio go to focus entirely on you again. "Still with me?"
"How long do we have?"
"Shouldn't be too much longer," he says. He checks your side again. The coldness of the air has soaked into the wet gauze. You shiver again. It makes something in him ache. "ETA's about ten minutes out."
You pull his lips down to yours and kiss him.
He's surprised, but he doesn't pull back--not from you. He lets you kiss him. Your taste seeps into his brain and turns all rational thought to white noise. One hand cups your jaw with a surprising gentleness, and the other slides behind your waist to keep you against his body. He's gentle--you need to be handled with care right now.
He pulls back before he loses himself in the desire to deepen the kiss. His eyes search your face, his forehead pressed against yours, his breath hot against your lips.
"You're lucky you're injured," he murmurs. "Or you'd be in a very different kind of trouble right now."
You shiver, but not with the cold. Just that one kiss has you feeling much warmer. You touch your name where it's written on his arm. Then you curl your fingers around the back of his neck and pull yourself closer. "Hold onto that thought for later," you murmur. "Give me something to wait for."
Then you kiss him again.
...
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Captain’s Girl [Part II]
John Price x Reader (Call of Duty)
Synopsis: Mixed tension combined with a failed mission leads to a heated kiss between you and the Captain. But what happens when kissing turns into something more? And will a new mission back in Urzikstan be the catalyst to bring you together or tear you and your captain apart?
Tags: Enemies to lovers, SMUT, guys I'm not joking I went crazy with the smut, military romance, secret feelings, pining, idiots in love, fighting, secret relationships, consequences, LONG.
Word count? Do you even need to ask?
.・゜゜・ ・゜゜・..・゜゜・ ・゜゜・.
The helicopter ride back was abysmal, a whole 3 hours spent in absolute silence. You'd spent the majority of the time staring at your fraying shoelace. The subtle rocking of the aircraft kept you awake while everyone else slept off the rough morning (and the hangover). It turns out that drinking the night before being dispatched wasn't the best idea. Shocking.
It didn't help that your mind was still hung up on the kiss between you and Price. Also shocking.
In the past 24 hours, you discovered that there was a widespread rumor that you and your captain had been sleeping together. Everyone on base had started calling you the Captain’s Girl. And that Price didn't apparently hate you and thought that planting one on you was the best way to prove that.
Why he kissed you was an entirely new can of worms you didn't have the stomach to open right now.
Now, did you kiss him back? Yes. Why? You didn't know the fuck why. There were several possible answers to this dilemma, answer one, it was the heat of the moment. Answer two, it just felt right to do so, it's rude to leave a guy hanging. Answer three, you were just too shit-faced to think critically about it. You were leaning toward the last one.
The worst part of the whole situation, (besides the fact that you may have given those rumors a tiny bit of validity) was that Price was a phenomenal kisser. You remembered it in excruciating detail. And unlucky for you it might have been one of the best kisses you'd ever had.
A small part of you wondered if he enjoyed it too, but given his face when you separated. All flushed and surprised, his eyes wide with horror and his breath heavy… yeah maybe it was best not to dwell on your kissing abilities.
It was a small blessing that Gaz had been the one to almost catch you in the act. He loved to tease but he wasn't an asshole, your and Price's secret was most likely in good hands. Heaven forbid it was Ghost or Soap because you would've had half a mind to jump out of the helicopter without a second thought. The thought was still tempting though.
You glanced up at Price, his head tilted back and his eyes shut. He wasn't faring much better than you were. He had heavy bags under his eyes and the line between his brows was far more defined than usual. Somehow he still looked good. In a very professional way, of course. Not in a ‘we made out last night, and thinking about it turns me on,’ kind of way.
Eventually, you would have to interact with him professionally again. When his foot healed it would be back to regularly scheduled training.
Best case scenario, they'd put you all on leave and you could have a week or two surrounding yourself with other men to clear your head. You'd never really been one for an extended vacation, but exceptions could be made. Plus, going back to base meant going back to a whole bunch of people who thought you were bangin’ the boss.
You grimaced, vacationing in hell might have been better. On second thought, you'd take the checkpoint base any day. Home base could go fuck itself, at least it was hot and sunny back in Urzikstan. You heard someone chuckle and looked up to see Ghost looking at you.
“Ya’ look like you swallowed a lemon.” He said enthused. You made a sound that crossed between a sigh and a grunt.
“Just preparing myself for landing,” You breathed as the helicopter wobbled. The aircraft began to descend in a linear motion, making your stomach sink a little.
“Home sweet home.”
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷
One week and three days, you had been back at base for almost two weeks without speaking a single word to Price. Maybe if you kept this up you could spend your last 8 months with 141 in peace.
Your days now had been mostly consisting of training (supervised by Ghost instead of Price), mindless tasks, eating in the commons, watching movies in the break room, and naps. It was kind of perfect, this was probably the most relaxed you'd ever been while at base. And nobody bothered to tease you over Price since he was rarely around. When he did make an appearance he didn't speak a word to you, which was somewhat nice.
A part of you wished for some explanation for the night of the kiss, but maybe ignorance was bliss. Whatever the reason, it was all behind you. You could totally remain professional when he comes back from recovery. Totally.
Gaz tried to talk to you about that night once, to which you immediately shut him down. Though, you knew he saw through you, and Price too, it was probably easier reading Price than you at this point. It was odd for Price to seclude himself away, even odder that he wasn't on speaking terms with you conveniently after the night that you tracked him down and blew up at him for starting a rumor that he most definitely did not create. Ghost had caught onto the odd tension between you two almost as fast as Gaz did.
Jhonny well… he was still in his own world, the man was smart sure, but he was a bit of a dunce when it came to reading other people's emotions. On the bright side that made him the perfect buddy to be around because he wasn't analyzing every interaction you had. You were grateful for him in his own way.
You were walking down one of the hallways after a bit of a loose end. Having nothing to do after training was a pain sometimes, you had an hour or two until dinner, and the base gym was at its busiest. And you didn't feel like you were in the mood to wait twenty minutes in a sweaty gym for a turn on the leg press machine. So, you opted for wandering around like a lost spirit in search of something to do instead.
Just as you turned a corner you collided with what felt like another wall. Your eyes met a 4x4 truck with a skull mask. Ghost.
“Easy, aren't sharpshooters supposed to be vigilant? Or are you the only exception?” His voice reverberated off your eardrums like a low-pitch bass. You rolled your eyes but let out an amused breath of air. To give the big guy some credit his name fits him perfectly, you didn't know how someone who was built like a standard Lego brick could be so stealthy. He could fit into any dark corner and nobody would be the wiser.
“Just you Ghost, you seem to be the only entity that evades me.” That seemed to pull a junction of his lips up because the corners of his eyes slightly crinkled. He held a small file filled with a few articles of paper tucked away into its folds.
Ghost crossed his arms, “What ya’ doin’? Have you taken up wandering hallways as a hobby now?”
You grimaced, “Gym was all full, didn't want to bother.” You said plainly, earning a nod from the bigger man.
“So… suppose that means you're free for time?” There was a slight smugness to his tone as he held the file up to you. Your gaze dropped from him to the file, he didn't phrase it like an order but you knew it was. You sighed and took the file from his hand. “Fine. Who do I have to track down to give this to?”
He shifted on one foot, “Price. You know where his office is.” You tried not to let your mouth fall open, this bastard.
You shook your head and tried to thrust the papers back into his chest, “What? No, I'm not giving these to Price. Can't you find someone else?”
Ghost stepped back and shook his head, raising his hands up in surrender. “Nope, s’outta my hands now. It’s one file, just knock on his door and drop it on his desk, easy.” You shot him a spiteful glare, there was probably an evil grin under that stupid mask.
You squeezed the file in your hands tighter, feeling the paper wrinkle in your vice grip. “Bastard.” You grimaced, turning on your heel towards the direction of Price's office. You heard him chuckle over your shoulder, “Good soldier.” He called after you, the shit-eating grin practically spotlighted through his tone.
Trudging through the familiar hallways toward Price's office was like walking through a dead-end alleyway. The further you got, the more signs you saw telling you to turn back. Sure you saw him after the night of the kiss, but you weren't being forced to talk to him or even acknowledge he was there. This was different, you would be alone with him. Alone in his office. Even if it was for a split second that you were in his presence the knowledge still made your skin pebble with goosebumps.
Before you knew it, you were facing the dreaded door of his office. The sight of the familiar plaque of his name gives you an almost Deja Vu feeling. The last time you were here things didn't go over too well, not that things ever really went great when the two of you came in contact.
You drew in a breath, just get this over with and you could be done. Maybe go take a shower or something, just go anywhere that was a good distance away from here. Your fist met the hardwood of the door, giving it a hearty few knocks. After a beat, his muffled voice reached your ears, “Come in.”
Pushing open the door you were greeted with the sight of Price. Doing pushups in the corner of his office. Okay, I guess. You were a little dumbfounded, usually one uses an office for things like paperwork or meetings. Not a personal gym. “I thought the point of recovering was that you're supposed to be resting.” You deadpanned. The file in your hands long forgotten.
His head immediately snapped up at the sound of your voice, pools of blue staring right into you like you'd walked in naked. Price halted mid-pushup, “[Name].” He breathed, obviously caught a little off guard by your appearance.
“Unfortunately,” You said back, watching as he got up and brushed himself off. The cotton of his shirt stretched over the expanse of his biceps and chest. Your eyes shot back to his face, a little guilty. Price cleared his throat, “They won't let me train in the gym yet. So, I have to improvise.”
You blinked at him, “Base doctor must love you.” You said sarcastically, glancing down at his foot. “How's your foot?” You asked politely, filling the awkward silence.
Price looked down at his wrapped foot, shrugging. “It's better. Don't need the crutch anymore.” He said plainly. You responded with a nod and an ‘ah,’ creating an even longer awkward silence. The two of you stood there for another beat, just looking at each other. You couldn’t tell if you wanted to run to him or run away from him. Just then you remembered the whole reason why you were here.
“Oh- uh, I have this for you-“ You held out the manilla file for him to take, “Ghost told me to bring it up here.” Price's eyes darted from the folder and then back to you, he hesitantly walked closer and took the file. His fingers brushed yours and you swear an electric current shot through your spine. His fingers were warm and rough, transporting you back to when his hands were in your hair, holding your face, cupping the back of your neck.
You swallowed, it felt like your heartbeat was in your head. “Thank you.” He said, pulling back his hand and the papers with it.
It was like someone had knocked the wind out of you, you were frozen. “…Right, I'll go then.” You said, taking a step back from him as he put the file on top of his desk.
“[Name]. Hold on, please.” His voice stopped you in your tracks, making you rotate a little to face him completely. His voice didn't sound angry, but it was firm. “Everything alright?” You chewed on the inside of your cheek, watching as he faced you. Leaning against his desk with his arms crossed.
His adams apple bobbed up and down, lifting a hand to rub his mutton chops. “Yeah…I just wanted to clear up something with you.” His voice was careful, the pauses and hesitance filling you with dread. Shit. He wanted to talk about the kiss, which you most definitely did not want to talk about. A part of you was dying inside but you nodded, “Yeah, what's up?” You said through clenched teeth.
“About what happened the night before the team left Urzikstan, I just wanted to… apologize. It was unprofessional of me especially considering the circumstances.” You stood statue still, well this was a first. He was apologizing to you. Price continued, “It was a moment of weakness and emotions were running high and frankly I didn't know how else to show you I didn't hate you. I give you my word that it will never happen again.”
A moment of weakness? What the hell was that even supposed to mean? It was nice to hear an apology come from him but to be honest, you weren't sure if you were happy about the fact he was sorry. Maybe that meant he didn't enjoy it, but it certainly didn't seem like it when his tongue was down your throat. Well, if you were already on the subject mind as well ask.
“Did you hate it?” You asked, Price looked at you for a moment. His face was puzzled like it was the last thing he had expected to come out of your mouth. “What?” He asked, his voice thick behind his British accent.
You stood your ground, “The kiss-” you clarified. “Did. you. hate. it?” His eyes searched yours for an ounce of reasoning, “I- it was unprofessional and I shouldn't have initiated anything as your Captain-”
“That wasn't my question.” You cut him off, your eyebrows furrowed together as your gaze bore into him. “I asked if you hated kissing me.”
Price shifted, leaning back a little against his desk. It was silent for a while, the sound of the wall clock and your beating heart was the only noise you could hear. “No… I didn't hate it.” He said after another beat.
A small part of you soared, you could sleep at night knowing your kissing abilities weren't the cause of his skittishness. The next question slipped past your lips before you had the mind to stop yourself. “Do you regret it?”
Again his lips pulled into a frown and his eyes darted away, “[Name], I don't know why these questions are necessary.” But you weren't going to let him deflect you that easy, right now all thoughts of professionalism and integrity were out the window. You deserved an explanation, even if the logical side of your mind was telling you to leave. You stepped closer to him, so he couldn't ignore your presence.
“It's necessary because you kissed me out of nowhere and I deserve an explanation.” You said defiantly, “So do you or do you not regret it?”
He gave you an exasperated look before swallowing his pride. Pinching the bridge of his nose between his pointer and thumb, he spoke, “I regret kissing you at that moment, and how I went about it. But I don't regret kissing you, no.”
Price’s cheeks turned a slightly rosy color that reached his ears. He looked like a guilty dog. You didn't know what surprised you more, the fact that he apologized or that he didn't regret kissing you. But his admission sparked a heat that crawled into your bones, burying into your stomach and coloring your cheeks similarly to his.
“Then just kiss me again.”
What came out of your mouth seemed to surprise you just as much as it did Price. He looked at you like you had grown a second head, “I'm sorry?” You felt your limbs lose feeling, fuck it, if you were going in mind as well go all in.
“I said what I said, if you regret how you went about kissing me last time…make it up now.” The silence that stretched over the two of you lasted for far longer than you were comfortable with. Price shook his head, seemingly coming back to reality. “[Name], I'm not kissing you.” He said pushing off the desk to stand at his full height.
You frowned, well shit. “Why not?” You said, trying not to let the surprise and annoyance bleed through your tone.
He looked at you incredulously, “Because we're in my fucking office and you're my subordinate.” Price said, gesturing around his office to further his argument. Jeez, you really hated this guy. He could at least throw you a bone after pulling a kiss on you out of nowhere.
“So? You kissed me out in the open at the checkpoint base- and I was your subordinate then too.” You knew that he knew you had a good point there, “If you don't want to kiss me or something you could've just said so.” You glared.
Price groaned and shook his head, rubbing his hand over the nape of his neck. “No- I- fuck, of course I want to kiss you. But it's not appropriate, there are fraternization rules. Especially when it comes to me as your Captain.”
Aha! So he did want to kiss you, that at least was one more mystery solved. You craned your neck up to meet his eyes, your hands seizing his face. Cupping his scruffy cheeks between your palms. “Rules only apply if you get caught. And you owe me a better apology.” You told him sternly.
Price’s eyes were wide and his body tensed for a moment. Only to relax a moment later, the heat of his face could burn your skin. Your hands tingled as the pads of your fingers slid against the coarse scuff of his beard. His face hid something behind the mask of surprise, something that glinted in the pools of navy and grey. Everything about him looked so odd, so real.
Back at the checkpoint base, you didn't have time to look over his features or memorize them. You weren't able to watch the flicker in his eyes, something akin to a stalking wolf.
“One kiss.” Price breathed.
“One kiss.” You repeated back to him, trying not to let your voice quake.
That was all it took before his lips were slotted against yours, swallowing your breath and your mind with it. The kiss back at Urzikstan was rushed, desperate, quick. This. This was different. It was like a switch in your brain was flipped off, the mind-numbing static and the gentle rhythm of his lips replaced where your rational thought was supposed to be.
Large hands seized your waist, digging into your flesh. Slowly, the gentle probes of his mouth morphed into heavy kisses and heated groans. His mouth tasted the same as it did before, like smoke and whiskey. You doubted you'd ever forget the taste of him.
Your hands slid around his neck, and your dull nails dragged down his nape. Earning a throaty moan on his part, with each lick, groan, and movement of his lips, you only seemed to get sucked in further. Your senses were drowning in him, yet you only ached to go deeper. To let the water fill your lungs and cloud your brain.
Lips, tongue, teeth, you didn't know where it ended nor where it started. Hell, you didn't know what you were even doing. You didn't even realize you had moved until your behind hit the solid edge of his desk, making you retract for a sharp breath.
Price panted against your lips, still slick and kiss swollen. Neither of you did anything, standing still in the aftermath. The kiss said more than either of you could have ever put into words. Hands squeezed your hips, “On the desk.”
You blinked, only somewhat coherent, “What?” Price lightly pushed you further, the back of your body being pressed against the hardwood. “You heard me, sit on the desk.” His voice was rough and thick with his accent. It wasn't more of a request but a demand, and unlucky for you it made your knees weak.
Carefully you lifted yourself onto the flat surface, his body wedged between your open legs. The rough pads of his fingers grasping at your hips, and before you knew it you were kissing him again. It was addictive, he was addictive. This felt more like your fist kiss with him, the kisses became rougher, more rushed, and more desperate. Like trying to fill an endless void with his lips.
“I thought you said one kiss,” You managed to gasp out between open-mouthed kisses. You felt the pull of a smile on the corner of his lips before separating from you only to attach to your neck. Suckling at the skin and leaving trails of blooming redness in his wake.
“You said you wanted a better apology right?” Price said, his voice vibrating against your collar. The texture of his beard against your skin sending full-body shivers down your spine.
You nodded, your hands reaching to his back to fist the material of his shirt. “Yeah.” Your voice was breathy, it sounded almost foreign to you. Like you hadn't even spoken it. Hands dipped under your shirt, running up the soft skin of your ribs, mapping out your body. Price looked at you, something in his eyes was desperate, like a wild animal looking at their next meal.
“Then let me make it up to you. Please.” Fuck.
When had a man ever said that to you? And not any man but John fucking Price. A pulse drummed in your stomach that reached your core, here you were, sitting on your captain's desk with him in between your legs. Asking you to let him make it up to you. Really…who were you to refuse when he asked so nicely? You swallowed and nodded, “Okay.”
With your confirmation, Price lifted your shirt above your head, hastily tossing it somewhere on the floor. His hands making quick work of your bra with it, the offending garment joining your shirt on the floor. He stood there momentarily, taking in the new expanse of revealed skin. Price’s calloused hands glided over your abdomen, cupping your breasts and brushing a thumb over the hardened nipple.
You hissed, your spine curving at his touch. Price’s hands were hard and warm, a stark contrast to the plush mound of your chest. “Fuck, you're a vision you know that? So fucking pretty.” He breathed, his comments adding fuel to the fire between your legs. You couldn't remember the last time a man had called you anything near a ‘vision,’ but damn it felt good. It felt good to be wanted.
Your thighs squeezed together, blocked by his frame standing between them. Every movement he made caused your hips to brush, sending shocks up your spine. And shit could you feel him, he was a large man but the size of the tent brushing against your clothed core was downright ridiculous. No wonder his ego was so big, you absentmindedly thought.
A finger hooked one of the loops of your standard-issue pants. Price was looking at you, “Can I…?” He motioned down asking permission to discard the rest. To which you nodded, trying to hold back your eagerness. “Yeah go ahead.”
Price helped you out from your pants, letting them drop to the floor with a dull thud. He groaned as he caught eye of your underwear—a very embarrassing and very obvious wet spot coating the fabric. Fuck-you didn't realize that was there. You'd been so caught up in his hands you'd barely felt it. He shot you a knowing look, the corner of his lip twitched up.
“All this cause of me?” He asked smugly, circling a digit over the sodden fabric. You twitched, the contact making you bite down on your lip to keep from making a startled noise.
You glared at him, “Don’t fucking tease me.” You said, the embarrassment in your tone disguised as venom. He grinned, prick’ you thought. Price guided a finger over your clothed slit, leaning into the crook of your neck. “Never baby, just want to make things right with you.” He murmured into your skin.
Price tugged the fabric to the side, letting your slick lubricate his fingers. You shuddered, your hands holding onto him for dear life. “Fuck-” You choked out, your hips leaning into his hand. It felt infuriatingly good, the way his digit glided up and down your labia at a leisurely slow pace making you fein for more. He groaned as he watched you moan from the way he brushed his thumb over your clit.
“Atta girl, so good f’me.”
Oh.
You liked that. You'd never really paid attention to the gratification of someone praising you outside of an academic or professional level but at that moment you could tell that did something for you. And Price seemed to notice too.
He gently prodded at your entrance, earning a whine from your lips. “One finger or two?” He muttered, you could barely think let alone answer his question. What you did know was that you need more, “Two.” You said breathlessly.
A light chuckle reverberated off of him, “Greedy girl.” Price didn't wait and plunged two fingers into you slowly. You threw your head back as his thick digits stretched open the gummy walls of your core. “Fuck, look at you. So wet for me, so fucking sexy like this you know that?” You could only manage another choked whine as he mimicked the ‘come here’ motion with his fingers.
It was euphoric, the way he filled out your walls with his fingers alone. Slowly pressing the pads of his middle and ring up against the spongy spot inside you. You dug your nails into his shoulder, a silent scream fell from your lips. Price’s other hand holding the small of your back to support you. “Stay still,” He whispered into the shell of your ear, making you shudder.
You didn't listen, how could you? You could barely focus on what he was saying as it was, let alone when he was knuckle deep inside you.
When Price noticed you weren't listening he retracted his fingers, leaving you hollow. You whined, already craving the stretch of his fingers again. He rested his palm against your cunt, his digits barely tracing over your entrance. “Come on, I know you can listen, stay still for me yeah?” His voice vibrated against your neck and his beard brushed over the exposed skin. Making your body prickle with goosebumps.
“You're an asshole you know that?” You panted, going rigidly still. He smiled against you, his fingers plunging back into your wet heat. “And you're all bark and no bite, fuckin’ vixen. Always looking at me when you know you shouldn't, driving me insane all the time. Stubborn girl.”
You threw your head back, trying hard not to let your hips twitch or jerk. Your mouth fell open to let out a lustful moan that would've made anyone in the near vicinity blush.
Price continued, “You like driving me mad? Never fucking listening to me, arguing with me, riling me up.” He muttered, sliding his fingers in and out at a brutal pace. Making your cunt flutter, producing the most obscene sounds you ever heard from yourself. “Then you come in here all sexy asking me to kiss you. It's like you wanted this, wanted my fingers.”
You felt the burning fire in your core tighten and roar, “Price- slow down. M’gonna cum if you keep going.” You babbled, your nails leaving crescents on his bicep. Everything was happening so fast you couldn't keep track of what was going on.
Price’s fingers were rough, thick, they filled out the lining of your walls with ease. A thick fog started to cloud your mind, making the world almost blur. In. Out. In. Out. It was maddening, he wasn’t slowing and you were only growing more feverish.
He shook his head, his other hand leaving your hip to grab your chin. Forcing you to look into his eyes, an animalistic hunger written over his face. “No, you're going to cum on my fingers. Look at me while you do it, look at me while you soak my hand.” Price’s thumb circled over your clit, making you clench and pulse. A full-body shudder racking through you.
You came suddenly, unexpectedly. It was hard and fast, but in a way, it was like you were floating. Your muscles went rigid, your back curving, and your startled moan bounced off the walls of the office. It came in waves, crashing over you like the tide as he finger-fucked you through the orgasm. All the while staring directly into those familiar pools of blue and navy. Your pussy spasmed around his fingers.
After a minute you fell limp, like you'd just run miles, you panted. Hair falling in your face and wetness coating both his fingers and your inner thighs, the juices pooling onto the dark wood of the table. Price held your waist with one hand, letting you slump against his chest. It was peaceful bliss for a moment.
You caught your breath enough to sit up, meeting his gaze. His hand that held your waist moved to brush a few stray hairs falling over your eyes. The corners of Price’s lips pulled into a smile, and your heart stuttered, only a little though. “Have I made it up to you yet?” He murmured, the thickness of his voice could have melted your ears. Smooth like syrup but rugged enough to be devastatingly masculine.
“Apology accepted.” You breathed, trying not to sound too winded. It was too late to form any semblance of decency so the next best option was pretending he didn't single-handily give you the most toe-curling orgasm of your life. Easier said than done.
Price detached from you, walking over to one of his office drawers and pulling out a box of tissues. “Normally I'd have something better to clean you up with but these will do for now.” He said casually, pulling a few from the box and coaxing your legs back open to wipe down the mess. Somehow, you felt a blush spread across your cheeks.
This was so...domestic, sweet even, it wasn't like him. Then again, fingering you on his desk wasn't like him either but here you were. You both had crossed a line and there wasn't any going back, you swallowed. “Thanks, but uhm…what do we do now?” Frankly, it was a dumb question but you couldn't help asking.
He gave you a look, “What do you mean?” You squirmed under his gaze, trying not to look down at his warm hand brushing up against your inner thigh.
“Well, we can't exactly pretend like this didn't happen.” You clarified, watching as the wheels in his head turned. Price shrugged, “We can leave it at this if that's what you want. I think both of us are just on edge, y’know, the heat of the moment.”
Somehow his words didn't match his face, there was more that seemed to bellow beneath his tone. But rather than bringing it up, you thought about his words. This wasn't ever something you anticipated to happen but to your surprise, you didn't hate it. “What if we just kept it going?”
Price looked at you, his eyes widened a tad, the surprise written across his face doing more for your nerves than you were comfortable with. “Like- in the sense that you and I both have a lot of built-up tension and unresolved issues. But if this works to keep the peace why not give it a try? Discreetly of course.”
It was a beat before he responded, “Alright, but like you said, discreet. If anyone catches on this is done.”
You soared, why? You didn't know, it just felt like the best news you'd gotten in forever. But looking too deeply into that feeling was uncharted territory. Better off leaving it in the corner of your brain with all the other repressed emotions.
“Works for me.” You agreed, Price got up again to grab your poor clothes that had been flung across the room. Handing them back gingerly, he was nice enough to turn around as you reclothed yourself. There was a slight charge to the air, almost like static. It pricked at your skin, making you jumpy and nearly insecure. It was like you had reverted to a teenage girl.
He caught your gaze, and the unspoken tension and lingering awkwardness faded just a little. He gave you a nod, “I'll see you tomorrow for drills.”
You smiled just slightly, “See you.” Walking to the door and turning the handle, you forced yourself not to look back at him.
After shutting the door you breathed a sigh, brushing out your clothes and smoothing your hair of the lingering frizz. Getting cozy with your captain was not on your yearly bingo card, but hey, beggars couldn't be choosers. You absentmindedly thought about the implications of technically giving that stupid rumor some validity. But you were only human, a girl has to do what she has to do to get laid.
Discreetly, of course, you were great about being discreet. Yeah, easy peasy. All you had to do was make sure nobody found out.
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷
At first, you didn't really know what to expect when you first made the arrangement with Price about “solving the unresolved problems between the two of you.” But after a few weeks of working out frustrations ‘on’ each other, you could say with full confidence that this arrangement exceeded your expectations.
Not only had the genuine fights between you been on an extended hiatus, but it started to be replaced with playful banter. And when you weren't bantering or training or hanging out with the group, you were fucking. And boy was it something.
For one, Price was experienced, to say the least, he knew what to do and when to do it. He had mapped out your body and played it like a fiddle. And with your extent of mediocre lovers, it was like a breath of fresh air. And his body was nothing to sneeze at either, he had muscle allll the way down. Battle scars be dammed, everything just seemed to make him more appealing.
The only troubling part of the arrangement was keeping up the ruse and getting creative when it came to the actual action portion of it. But turns out that unconventional areas to have sex weren't as bad as they seemed. Office? Hell yeah. In the medical wing private rooms? Why not. In the showers and bathrooms? You only live once.
Unintentionally getting laid was also fixing your mood. Who knew an orgasm was a great way to fix an attitude problem? Well, at least most of your attitude problems.
You were outside running the trail that weaved its way around the base, at least once or twice a week Price would make you and the team run until you thought you would pass out. Something about endurance training. Running wasn't the worst thing but the harsh trail and uneven ground that zigzagged and dipped made you want to tear your hair out.
Your breath came out in small puffs, the cold air around you doing little to soothe the hot ache of your muscles. Your baby hairs stuck to your forehead and by the looks of it, you still had a few more miles left.
Jhonny ran beside you, his heavy breaths synchronous with yours. Up ahead was Gaz and Price and a few inches behind you was Ghost acting as caboose. You watched them run in front of you like you were studying a Peloton ad. Seriously, how the hell had they barely broken a sweat yet?? It was downright annoying how athletic they were.
“I swear, neither of them are human. Price just got cleared to run a week ago and he looks like he's having the time of his life.” You said between pants, next to you Soap laughed.
“Can’t say I disagree with ya’ there Bonnie, think he just does it for show at this point.” He said, his voice equally hoarse. From behind you, Ghost chimed in, “Maybe if you two stopped talking you'd actually catch up to them by now.”
You shot Ghost a glance over your shoulder, “People in glass houses.” You quipped, considering he was the caboose it was a little ironic. Not by much but still.
Soap grinned, “She’s right ain't she L.T.? Say, how's the arse of the train treating you? Got a nice view?”
Your laugh hurt, the air felt so thin but the pit of your stomach warmed. Talking while running (especially laughing) wasn't the smartest, but it was a distraction. Ghost swatted at the back of Soap’s head, cutting his laugh short.
From up ahead Price turned his head to look at you and Soap. “Two miles left, I’d suggest you save your stamina. If you fall behind on time you run extra.” He deadpanned. His voice barely sounded tired, the nerve.
You grimaced, “I think I’d prefer one of your medieval torture methods than running any longer.” Despite what you thought was an amusing comment Price didn't look enthused.
“That was a nice way of telling you and Jhonny to shut up, am I clear?” He said sternly, you held in your groan. Hookup buddy or not, Price was still annoying. “Clear.” You and Soap said in unison.
The rest of the path was spent in lingering silence. And by the time you reached base, you felt like you had one foot in the grave. You hunched over, your hands on your knees as you took in as many breaths as you could without it hurting. Had the air always been this thin?
Price was a few feet ahead, hands on his hips as he cooled off. His hair was slightly messy and his body glistened with a thin layer of sweat. He reached for his shirt and pulled it up to wipe his face, exposing the hard muscle and his happy trail. Dear lord. You watched him like a hawk, zeroing in on his abs as they expanded and decompressed with each breath.
He glanced your way, you were incredibly obvious so it was no surprise how his eyebrow twitched up and his lips pulled into a wry smile. “I did tell you to save your energy.” He commented quite smugly, referencing your current state.
You snapped out of the trance his abs had put you in, leaning back up and darting your eyes away. “I’m fine, just catching my breath. And for the record that felt way longer than normal, at this point, you just like to watch the team suffer.”
Price chuckled, crossing his arms. “Well someone’s bitter. But look, you did it and you came out fine. It's a win-win.”
You glared at him, unimpressed. “Sure, you work me like a dog until I inevitably die of overexertion and I get a paycheck in the mail that I'll never be able to spend because I'm dead. Win-win.” You said sarcastically. Price's lips tugged up, his mutton chops creating an almost teddy bear-like effect.
The corners of his eyes slightly crinkled, “Maybe you should've taken up drama instead of Military. Might fit you better.”
Your lips pursed into a line, Price was quick witted, but way too full of himself. It was a good thing you were there to keep his ego in line, you liked to think of yourself almost as the balancing act of the team. After all, there could only be so many cooks in the kitchen before things got rocky. “Good thing they don’t pay you for jokes.” You said, finally gaining back your breath.
Just as Price opened his mouth to give what was most likely a poor rebuttal a large hand patted your shoulder.
“[Name], pub tonight yeah?” It was Gaz. His beaming face almost made you squint. You took a minute to process his words, you were rarely one to inhabit the pubs on the outskirts of the base. But a brief memory of him and Jhonny asking you to go from earlier that morning cleared up your memory fog.
You cleared your throat and nodded, “Yeah- wouldn't miss it.” You said through your teeth. Gaz looked forward to Price, “You tagging along Price?”
You looked back at Price too, curious. He stood there a moment before sighing, rubbing the back of his neck. “Guess I will. Someone's got to keep the lot of ya’ in check.” Your spirit plummeted, the last time you were drunk in front of Price you started cursing at him like a drunken sailor. And you started kissing him in broad…daylight? Nightlight? Whatever. The point was, that you had zero self-control when you drank.
Heck, you barely had any self-control when it came to Price. You were on him any chance you got, and mixing two of your greatest temptations just sounded like a recipe for disaster.
Gaz smiled, ruffling your sweaty hair. “Great! We’ll leave after dinner, Price you're designated driver.” You forced yourself to smile back, giving a weak excuse for an ‘excited’ laugh.
“Great.” You said through your teeth, giving an enthusiastic thumbs up. Price gave him a nod as he walked off towards Soap and Ghost.
“Can’t wait.” You breathed to yourself.
Game plan: Don't drink and avoid Price at all costs. Simple enough. After all, it was just a pub, how bad could it be?
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷
Spoiler Alert: Bad. It could be bad.
In the first thirty minutes of being at the shabby pub, you'd broken your first rule by getting roped into a drinking game with Jhonny. Not the smartest of decisions by far that you made. But it did take off the edge, now the orange lighting and the peeling paint on the walls seemed quaint instead of creepy.
The warmth in your stomach buzzed with a low frequency that made you giddy. And you hadn't paid for any of your drinks courtesy of Jhonny. Things may have been turning out for the better if you stayed on your A game. But unsurprisingly you failed to do so.
You sat on one of the barstools, a classic marg in hand with the salted rim and fancy lime slice on the glass. Ghost was sitting next to you while you both watched Jhonny trying to sweet-talk some poor girl from across the bar. Price sat a few chairs down next to Gaz, wrapped up in a conversation with the old bartender. Slowly, you felt yourself getting cozy.
And you were drunk enough that you merely hummed along with the maroon 5 reruns that played in the background.
“I got fifteen on the girl slappin’ him by the end of the night.” Ghost said as you watched the scene unfold.
You couldn't help but let an unabashed giggle slip from your lips. “Honestly I can't tell if she wants to take him home or take him to the local station for harassment charges.” Ghost grunted in agreement.
The girl gingerly took another sip of her drink as Soap talked to (at) her. Earning another hearty laugh from both You and Ghost. After another minute of people-watching Ghost patted the bar table, fishing a pack from inside of his cargo pocket. “Alright, I’m taking five’ I'll be outside.” He said as he got up.
You frowned but nodded, your gossip buddy was gone which was annoying. But instead of dwelling on it, you took another sip of your marg. The tequila burned your throat in a sickly sweet way, it wasn't the best drink you'd ever had but it did the job. Mid-drink you felt someone else walk up behind you, without warning someone slid into the empty stool next to you.
“This seat taken?” You didn't recognize the voice, it was masculine but it didn't sound like any of the guys. You looked to your side, it was a guy. He looked to be taller, with pale skin, sandy brown hair, and dark eyes. He wasn't about to be on a magazine cover but he definitely wasn't hard to look at.
You didn't quite know what to say, “uh…yeah, I suppose by you.” It was a lame response but he did kinda already sit himself down.
He smiled, white teeth, a little crooked but nobody's perfect. He had a good jaw, not clean-shaven but it made him look a bit more approachable. “That’s good to hear,” he was holding a drink, a gin-and-coke by the looks of it. “I saw you and your friend playing that drinking game earlier, pretty impressive, didn't think you'd be able to keep up.”
You gave a bit of an awkward laugh, unsure of what to make of the situation. But friendly conversation wasn't off the table, and the mystery man seemed nice enough. “Yeah, I guess I did, thanks. You uh- you done anything like that before?”
Mystery man shook his head, “No I can't hold my ale. I prefer to let the professionals handle that.” You laughed, finding the comment a little ridiculous.
“I’d hardly call myself a professional.” You replied, taking another sip of your drink. His eyes dipped down to your lips, watching as you raised the glass to your mouth and swallowed. But, they quickly averted back to your eyes.
“I don't know, I would hardly classify you as intermediate. I would buy you a drink but I'm not sure that much to drink in one night is healthy.” He said smoothly, leaning one elbow against the counter.
Buy you a drink? Okay, maybe a bit too friendly. But maybe he was just being nice, people buy strangers drinks all the time. You nodded, “Oh that's nice of you. Yeah, I'd say after this I’ll call it quits.” You said, raising your marg.
He hummed and nodded, licking his lips. “Hopefully you're not too drunk, right?” Something about his tone you didn't like, it was like he was teasing you.
You averted your eyes, “Uh hopefully not. Just buzzed for now, I’ll probably feel the brunt of it later.” You laughed awkwardly.
“Did you drive here yourself?” Okay, what was with all the questions? You weren't sure if that was a courteous thing to ask or just downright nosy.
You shook your head, “No someone drove me.” You said simply, keeping it short and sweet. Maybe then he'd get the vibes you were putting off. He hummed, his eyes drilling into you like one of those toy lasers.
“Are you going home with anyone?” He asked, you almost choked on your drink. What was with this guy? How did you go from drinking the game two seconds ago to this??
He cut you off before you had the chance to say anything, “Because if not, I’d be willing to drive you back. Free of charge, of course.”
Free of charge my ass.
The actual charge probably consisted of a blow job in the back seat of his Toyota Corolla. Or white van, you were still figuring out the vibes on this guy.
You were stunned to speak, absolutely dumbfounded by the lack of social cues. It was like walking into the shallow end of a pool only to step into eight feet of water. To make it worse he reached forward, brushing a stray piece of hair out of your face. “Come on, don't leave me hanging. What do you say?”
Pound!’
Something hard hit the counter, making both your drinks wobble. You swiveled your head towards the noise, and low and behold your second greatest desire now stood between you and the mystery guy. Price.
His fist on the counter cut the conversation short as well as all the noise around him. Creating an oh-so-silent bar. The mystery man retracted his hand like he'd been scorched by an open flame. Looking up at Price with a bewildered expression, “What the fuck man?” He asked with a furrowed brow.
Price looked down at him, his expression unmoving. “Apologies, but I think it's time you go bother another person. Particularly one that isn't a part of my team.”
Whatever thoughts of arguing that the mystery man had immediately died as Price crossed his arms, puffing himself out like a bird when ruffling its feathers. You looked at both of them incredulously, sure you were glad Price came to the rescue but you could've handled it yourself. You didn't need him to come barreling through like a charging rhino to handle something you didn't even ask him to do.
You looked around to see everyone's heads turned in your direction, looking between Price and the other guy. Suddenly the alcohol in your stomach turned sour, and you felt your cheeks grow hot from the unwanted attention.
“Jeez, look I wasn't looking for any trouble. I didn't know she had a man, my bad.” He said, holding his hands up in surrender. Price didn't budge, guarding you like a stone wall. “Then off you go.” He said sternly.
The mystery guy nodded, sliding out from the barstool and walking past you and back to the table where he came from. The pub started to go back to normal, people picking up where they left off. Price turned back to you, his posture deflating a little. He looked down at you, and from the way you were looking back at him, he immediately knew something was amiss. “What?” He asked.
Your eyebrows slid lower on your face, your lips pursing into a tight frown. “What do you mean ‘what?’ What the fuck was that?” You whisper shouted at him, your cheeks still burning with embarrassment.
Price looked at you like you were crazy, a frown on his lips. “The bloke was touching you, you think I'm just going to stand by and let him paw at you?” He asked defensively.
Oh please. He barely even touched your face. It wasn’t great, but, it didn’t warrant Price making a whole spectacle. Especially not in front of the team, let alone a group of spectators. You looked back at Gaz, who was staring directly at you, then at Jhonny, who went back to talking to the girl.
“Can we talk about this somewhere else?” You signed, not wanting to be in earshot of Gaz who was most definitely eavesdropping. Friend or not, he couldn't know any more than he already did, the bastard was perceptive enough as it was.
Price glanced at Gaz and then back to you, his jaw working with tension. “Fine.” He huffed, you were a bit taken aback by the irritability in his tone. Why was he so mad now? He was the one who caused the scene. Nonetheless, you slipped out of the bar and followed Price as he stormed off.
You weaved through tables and people, trying your best to squeeze by without knocking into anything. Price walked into an emptier hallway that led to the restrooms. It was one of those creepy hallways with no overhead lights and weird pictures strung across the walls. You eyed the peeling wallpaper, it was like you'd stepped into a time capsule. Warm light poured from the main area of the bar, casting an orange hue against you and Price that was cut off by shadows.
He turned back to you, the furrow in his brow knitting the skin in between. He looked sexy. The thought popped into your mind before you had the sense to block it out. While very true you had to stand your ground. A hot man and some liquor in your system would not sway your resolve. (Maybe it could sway it a little.) focus!
“What was that? You charging up to that guy and slamming your fist on the counter.” You asked folding your arms over your chest.
Price leaned against the opposite wall, facing you. “I didn't charge up to him, I simply made it clear that he crossed a line.” He said defiantly. You raised a brow, unsure of what to make of the blanket statement.
“What line?” You asked, to which Price scoffed.
“He tucked a piece of hair behind your ear, and don't think I didn't hear the way he was interrogating you. Come off it [Name], I know you're not stupid, you could see clear as I could what that fucker wanted.” He spat.
You exhaled, either the liquor was catching up to you or it was starting to get hot. “Well yeah, but he barely did anything, and that hardly warranted you taking matters into your own hands.” You defended, “-I could have just told him to fuck off or something. I didn't need you charging in like a bull and letting the entire bar know.”
You watched Price’s hand bawl into a fist, flexing the strain in his neck as he glared down at you. “What else was I supposed to do? Politely ask him to leave? When he's got his dirty hands on you like that-” He groaned, wiping his face with one hand.
“I'm not defenseless, I don't need you to rescue me.” You retorted, your hands holding your arms tighter to your chest.
Price rolled his eyes, “I know that. Don’t get smart with me.” He said pointing a finger your way, his mouth curling into a small snarl. “You don't get it, watching him practically undressing you with his eyes. It was fucking aggravating to watch- the way he looked at you.”
You were a bit surprised that he caught on to that, but you didn't feel like he was undressing you with his eyes per se. More like just intently staring, you pushed his accusatory finger down. “You're exaggerating, and you don't even know what he was thinking.” You tried to reason.
Price looked at you with a glare that would’ve made anyone else back down. But you didn't, as Jhonny once commented, you had the rather: “Fucking idiotic tendency to never be scared of Price.” What could you say? You liked a challenge.
He took a step forward, making you take one back. Your back hit the wall of the hallway. Like a caged animal, you were trapped. “I know exactly what he's thinking.” Price snarled, he grabbed your face. The rough pads of his fingers pressed into your hollow cheeks, his hand was so big it dwarfed your lower jaw.
“-Because I fucking think of the exact same things when I look at you.” His voice was harsh and low, sending ripples through your spine like shock waves. Price’s hand forced your face up so it was locked dead onto his, making you look into his eyes shadowed by the darkness. Flecks of light caught on his face, against his beard and jaw. If anyone were to walk into the hallway, it may have looked like Price was about to devour you like a starving carnivore.
You shuddered, he was so close it was driving your senses crazy. You could smell him, taste the venom in his voice, and God did it turn you on. You wanted more, you wanted to push his buttons. It felt good to drive him to the point of fury, to watch him slowly lose his composure. Years of hard discipline and mental strength all crumbling within minutes, and you wanted to watch.
“I don’t care if every man on the planet looks at me that way. I'm not yours, you don't get to put a claim on me. And you sure as hell don't get to make a scene in front of the entire bar and the team.” You spat back. Like an open flame, the wildfire between you and Price only seemed to burn brighter, faster, harder.
“-And what happened to being discrete huh? Last time I checked, scaring off any guy who looks in my direction isn't discrete.” You pried.
Price scowled down at you, his breathing starting to grow more labored. His hand clenched your face more forcefully, not enough to hurt but enough that you couldn't move. “You're right. You don't belong to me, but I am still your Captain, and you answer to me. Not to Gaz, or Jhonny, or Ghost. Not to some stupid prick who just wants a quick fuck. Me.”
Price was slowly getting angrier, to be honest, you rarely saw him this pissed. But deep down, it kind of did something to you. Knowing that you were the cause of his anger.
It was an ache that settled deep within your bones, making your blood coarse red hot. Maybe it was the adrenaline, or maybe it was something more. Either way, you didn't care, you just needed to feel the satisfaction of breaking his ressolve. Stripping him of every facet that made him a man and revealing the primitive monster that lied underneath.
Your eyes narrowed into slits, “Fuck you Price.”
There was a beat of silence that stretched for far too long. It was so quiet you could almost feel the way your heart hammered in your chest. You made hard eye contact with him, watching the way his eyes widened and how his irises scanned over the expanse of your face.
“Fuck me?” He spoke, his voice hard and breathy. His hand forced your face up, straining the muscles in your neck. The back of your head was pressed into the hard wall with firm pressure. And to your surprise, the corner of his lip turned up into an amused smile. “Fuck me huh?” He repeated, and as suddenly as it appeared, his smile dropped.
“Fuck you.” He spat, surging forward into a clash of tongue, teeth, and lips. You quickly grabbed at his head, twisting your fingers through his hair. Your arms wrapped around him like a constricting snake.
The kiss was so rough you didn't even know if it could be classified as a kiss really. His body practically slammed into you, pinning you to the wall like a fly caught in a spider's web. One of his hands still clutched your face while the other was pressed flat into the wall beside your head. You heard one of the pictures that was hung on the wall next to you clatter to the ground. Everything seemed to fade into the background, all that mattered was the man who was currently pinning you to the wall.
Price was kissing you like a man starved. You forgot where you were, what you were doing, and why you felt so angry in the first place.
You distantly felt his hands move down to roughly cup your ass and then the back of your thighs. Price hoisted you up, trapping you between the wall and himself. Your legs instinctively wrapped around his waist, grinding your hips against his. You groaned as you felt his tented pants against your clothed core, he was hard as a rock.
Your hands raked down the expanse of his back, fisting the soft cotton of his shirt between your fingers. Price took a few steps back, holding you to his chest still. His back hit the other wall with a thud, making the other pictures rattle. He kept maneuvering around like a blind man until his back hit the door to one of the bathrooms. It gave way to his weight, swinging backward.
“Price what-” Your words were cut off by another open-mouthed kiss. You returned it just as eagerly, maybe asking what he was doing could wait another minute. Price’s back hit the door again, one of his hands scrambling for the lock. He carried you across the empty bathroom, bouncing off the walls and counters as you went.
He managed to open the door to the last stall tucked away in the corner. Slamming against the stall you kissed him like an animal, clawing at his back and rolling your hips into his.
After another minute you pulled away for a breath, panting like you'd just swam up for air. His breath fanned your lips, thick with his taste and your mixed spit. The dingy bathroom was poorly lit, casting everything inside it in a dark light. You swallowed, “What are we doing in here?” You panted.
Price’s hands squeezed your ass, “Making sure nobody else can see what I'm about to do to you.” His voice was heavy and thick, like molasses sugar. The richness of it clouded your senses, making you loopy. Without warning he pulled you off him, setting you down on your feet with a hand tangled in your hair.
“On the ground.” He spoke, more of a command than anything.
You blinked, either it was the round of drinks or just his effect on you but the words barely processed. “What?” You breathed, your eyebrows knitting together.
Price gave your head a sharp yank, a surprised gasp slipping past your lips. His thick digits curled around your hair tighter, pulling your scalp taunt. “I said on the ground, I know you can listen to me.” He said, his voice was rough now, scratching against your eardrums like sandpaper. You knew you were in far too deep to back out now. (Not that you wanted to). So, you obeyed, much like an animal self domesticating itself to survive.
Your knees pressed into the cool, hard tile. Price still held your hair, craning your neck up to look him in the eyes. You saw it, the small restraint he always held, like a second face he wore around everyone else- it was gone. There was pure, unabashed want in his eyes. You felt your lungs deflate, the breath leaving your body. Hands that held his thighs dug into his jeans, an unspoken message that screamed ‘go.’
The adams apple in his throat bobbed, and Price’s other hand migrated to his belt. Gradually he unclasped the silver belt buckle, “You’re a smart girl [Name]. I know you didn't just say all of that before cause’ you wanted to prove a point to me.” He spoke, sliding the leather band open and pushing the top button of his pants through the slit. “-I know you're not that fucking stupid. So tell me…why did you? Just to get under my skin? To rile me up?”
Your throat ran dry, eyes glued to his fingers as they slid down the zipper. Preening to watch the way his boxers spilled out of the narrow opening. Price yanked your head back again with a sharp yelp on your part.
“Look at me. Not my cock, you'll have plenty of time to look at it later.” He breathed, pools of navy boring in your eyes. His pupils dilated, the soft red that colored his cheeks and ears doing little to soothe the roaring flame that burned between your legs.
You were at a loss for words, to be honest, you weren't completely sure why either. A sense of curiosity? It was hard to put into speech, “I…I wanted to see what you'd do.” You answered, making his eyebrow twitch up.
“Thats all? Not because you have a fascination with me? With fucking with my goddamn head. You don't like driving me insane?” He spat, palming a hand over himself. Your eyes flicked down, watching the fabric of his briefs stretch over the bulge.
You swallowed, looking at him tentatively. “I wanted to see the real you. Not the front, not the put-together Captain. You.”
A silence hung in the air, one that casted a thick layer of tension between you. Price’s lips turned upwards, a darkly amused chuckle echoing through the empty bathroom. “You already had me, baby.” He reached his hand into his briefs, pulling out his thick cock. He groaned, rubbing his hand up and down his appendage, “Fucking temptress that's what you are. You want me to not hold back, is that it? To fuck you stupid?”
You couldn't take your eyes off him even if you'd wanted to. No matter how many times you saw his dick it never got old, all you could do was marvel at it. He was big, and more importantly, he was thick. You watched his hand stroke the peachy skin, watching the heaviness of its girth and the reddened mushroom tip that beaded with milky pre-cum.
Price laughed, eyeing the way you looked at him like a starving animal. “This what you wanted? What all the fuss was about?” You couldn't help but nod, wetting your lips just at the sight. “-Tell me you want it. That you want me to fuck your throat raw.” He spoke, Price held himself just out of reach. Like a cat with a feathery toy, you were completely entranced.
You nodded, “Price fuck my throat.” The words sounded so odd coming from your mouth, so raw and crude it almost surprised you.
Price gave your head a small tug, a satisfactory grin on his face. He looked down at you, nodding his head to you as if to say ‘Go ahead.’ You could barely contain yourself as your hands slid around his cock, feeling the burn of hot skin beneath your palms. He was so thick your one hand almost couldn't wrap around his girth, two hands would have to do the job.
The weight of his length felt good, oh yeah, and not to mention that he was harder than a metal pole. Hastily you wrapped your lips around the head of his cock, swirling your tongue over the bulbous tip.
Price’s head fell back against the stall door, his hips twitched forward. A hearty groan fell from his parted lips. The hand in your hair gave you an encouraging squeeze. You hummed, letting the vibrations from your voice reverberate off his dick. He tasted like skin, musky and salty, leaving an earthy kind of aftertaste that clung to your tongue like syrup.
You separated with a lewd ‘pop, watching the muscles in Price’s neck strain. Dipping your head you licked a stripe up his cock, coating the length in a thin layer of spit. One hand stroked him up and down while the other dug into his thigh, leaving small crescents into the fabric of his pants. Beads of pre-cum spilled out from the small slit of his tip, you let your thumb swipe over the head generously lubing up his base.
Price’s hands tightened in your hair, “Fuck- that's it. Just like that pretty girl.” He panted, earning a pleased hum from your lips.
Without warning you took his cock back into your mouth, sinking down the furthest you could without gagging. The gummy walls of your throat tightened around the foreign object, accompanied by a wet gulping noise. You inhaled through your nostrils, trying your best to take him further.
Price cursed loudly, the sound of his voice bouncing across the tile walls. His cock twitched in your mouth. You moved your head down then forward, repeating the motion until you found a steady rhythm of bobbing down on his dick. What your mouth couldn't reach your hand made up for, squeezing and stroking faster and faster. He was so wound up you could practically feel the tension under his skin.
You pulled off of him, your mouth agape as you panted. Spit and other fluid gleamed against your lips like a gloss. Price looked down at you, confusion written across his face with a tad of concern.
“Are you okay?” He said through heavy breaths, to which you nodded. However, you shot him a stern look.
“You're holding back.” You panted, staring at him with a knowing glare. Price looked at you, unsure of how to respond to your accusatory tone. “-I said-Fuck. My. Throat.”
His face hardened, and the same animalistic gleam came back. “Fine. You want me to let go? I can let go.”
That was all it took before his hand wrapped around your hair like a rope. Pushing you down his cock inch by fucking inch. He moaned through his teeth, “Fuck- you know what to do if it gets to be too much.” He said breathlessly. It was true, you did know you always had an out, but this was way more fun.
Your jaw went slack to accommodate him, the stretch of him down your throat sending full-body shivers down your spine. Then he started to move. Your hands found his thighs, digging your nails into his pants.
Price made good on his promise, fucking your throat like it was his life’s goal. The tip of his cock hit the back of your throat making you almost gag, hot tears stung your eyes. It was rough and desperate, he used your throat like he hated your guts. And you couldn't help but love every second of it, you managed to crack him. The hard shell he kept, and the walls he built up, were slowly crumbling down.
Then, as quickly as he pushed you down he pulled you off of him. You sucked in a desperate breath, making a small noise of confusion. You stared at Price with a quizzical look, one that bordered on ‘wtf??’
Price looked wrecked, his hair tussled and cheeks tinged red. Small beads of sweat trickled down his temples, but he smiled. “I'm sorry baby, did you want me to keep going?” He exhaled, an almost pitying aspect to his tone. The hand in your hair slid down to cup your chin, a rough thumb swiping over your puffy bottom lip.
“Why’d you stop?” You frowned up at him, and try as you might the disappointment in your voice was clear as day.
Price cupped your jaw, forcing your head back further. “Because as much as I love your mouth, I would much rather cum in that beautiful cunt of yours.”
You tried not to choke, refusing to give him the satisfaction that his words sent whole body shivers through you. But, it did sound heavenly, so you nodded and let him help you to your feet again. From there he guided you up against the stall, your palms flat on the cool door.
Price’s chest went flush with your back, his face tucked into where your shoulder met your neck. His hot breath fanned against you and the hairs of his scruff tickled your skin. Thick hands found your hips, sliding to your crotch to unzip your pants. You tried not to let your breath hitch as he palmed a hand over your clothed cunt.
“Jesus- this wet for me already? Haven't even touched you yet, but here you are, soaking your panties like a slag.” Price murmured into your nape, and even though you couldn't see it, you could feel his smirk.
You bit down on your cheek, “Big talk from someone who could barely keep it together while getting a simple blowy.” Your pants slid down and a sharp blow was delivered to your behind. You yelped, caught off guard by the harsh slap.
“Careful.” He murmured, his voice reverberating off the shell of your ear. Your eyes stung with tears as the burning sting of his mark cooled into a low ache. “-We don't have a whole day for you to think of a good comeback before someone comes knocking on that door. So I’d try to cooperate unless you want me to leave you high and dry. Which I'm perfectly fine with doing.”
Liar. He was bluffing, but Price was just as stubborn as you were and would most definitely make you wait an unseemly amount of time just to cum. So, for once in your life, you listened.
Trying to bite back your moans, you stood statue-still as Price tugged the offending garment to the side. Two fingers slid along your folds before plunging inside with a wet squelch. “Fuck, you're tight. You sure you can take me?” He breathed, and you threw your head back into his chest. He fingered you slowly, mapping out every crevice and dip with the pads of his fingers.
It wasn't enough. You needed more, “Price if you don't fuck me right now, I swear to god, I will do it myself.” Okay, so maybe that sounded a little bit more desperate than intimidating, but it got the message across.
You felt his breathy chuckle against your ear, and suddenly, his fingers slipped out of you. “Yes ma'am,” he said. However, the empty void left by his fingers was soon replaced by the burning contact of his cock against your swollen folds. Price groaned as he slid himself back and forth, gathering up your slick to use as lube.
A shudder ran down your spine, your palms pressing against the door harder. You pushed your hips back against him, earning another pleased hum from your Captain. You could barely breathe, there was a burning tension that ate away at your core. Like a rope stretched too tight, all you could do was wait for it to snap apart.
His tip slowly slipped inside your hole, the burning stretch of his girth sending the hairs at the back of your neck up. Inch by inch he seethed himself into you, “Price-holy fuck.” You moaned, even with how wet you were, no amount of lube would ever fully prepare you for the sheer mass of him.
Price drew you in, letting your walls stretch and mold to his dick. His hands grabbed at your hip and lower stomach, holding you in place. His beard brushed against your collar as he placed a few nipping kisses on your neck. “I know baby, I know, taking me so fuckin’ well. Shit, this pussy was made for me.” He murmured into your sweaty skin.
Without warning, his hips drew back only to snap forward again. You couldn't help the unseemly moan that fell from your lips, he pounded into your cunt like it was his last day alive. The sloppy sounds of skin echoed through the room.
“Oh my god- Price.” You choked out, the side of your face pressed against the door. “-feels so good.” You panted between wet slaps as his hips drove into your behind. You could barely think over the sound of your moans, each second that his dick plunged back into your sopping pussy felt like sparks being lit inside of you.
He moaned, his voice resounding across the shell of your ear. A hand snaked its way up your stomach and cupped your neck like a choker necklace. His skin burned, thick fingers curling around your scruff. It didn't hurt but it was firm, making you pliant to his body. “That's it. Take my cock, let me fuck you like the slut you are.” He grid out, “-this pussy knows what she wants, and it's me. Nobody else can fuck you like I do. Nobody else can give you what you need, what you deserve.”
Your cunt fluttered around him, causing his hips to stutter before driving back into you with so much force your hips hit the door.
Knock knock knock’
You're body went rigid, and all the air in your lungs seemed to escape your ribs. Fuck! You had totally forgotten that you were in a public bathroom for Christ's sake. Price had locked the door, but that didn't mean people wouldn't try and come in.
Knock knock knock!’
It was louder this time, more impatient. You tried to look back at Price, but his hand on your neck held your head still. He wasn't stopping.
“Not so fast girly, I’d like to finish what I started.” He chuckled, angling his hips as he slammed back into your cunt. The head of his cock nuzzled against the spongy muscle of your g-spot. You were so caught off guard you didn't have time to cover the absolutely shameless moan that slipped from your lips.
Price groaned, and his cock twitched. “Fuuckk that's it, let them hear you. Let everyone know how good I'm making you feel, how good I'm fucking this pussy.” You could barely process his words, everything was starting to build up to the point you were almost seeing stars. “-Come on baby, cum for me. Cum on my cock.” He panted through firm thrusts.
A sharp cry rang through the empty walls, you saw white. Body pulsing as the waves of euphoria washed over your body like the tide. Each thrust sending new shocks down your spine, prolonging every second of your orgasm. Price’s hips stuttered, a loud curse ringing from his lips as he came inside you.
What followed was an extended silence that was filled with heavy pants. You could barely stand, Price’s chest flush with your back, his head leaning against your shoulder.
“Think they got the message?” Price mused, his voice thick with exhaustion. You couldn't help the laugh that rose from your chest, listening in for another knock. When none came you sighed, “Guess so.” You breathed.
After another minute of rest Price pulled off of you, leaving a trail of cum seeping down your thigh. Not to mention your sweaty back and all-around messy appearance. Price simply grinned at you when you shot him a nasty glare, using some toilet paper to clean up the fluids. “Whoops.” He shrugged.
It was a good thing you were on the pill, you might've slapped him if otherwise. He chuckled and pressed a ‘sorry’ kiss to your temple, “Come on soldier, you look like you've been through a war.” He quipped. You didn't even try to laugh at that one.
“Funny.” You said sarcastically, but once he opened the door after redressing you, you froze. The reflection in front of you looked well…like you had just been fucked in a bathroom stall. Small bites and hickeys littered your neck, poking up to where it was obvious to see. You hit his shoulder, “You dumbass, I look like I've been attacked by a swarm of mosquitoes! What the hell is the team going to think Mr. Designated Driver?”
Price looked at your reflection too, scratching the back of his neck. “We’ll find you a coat.” He settled on.
There was a small beat of silence, you looked back at him. “A coat, and I get to skip running drills for next week. Then you're forgiven.”
He looked back at you, “Deal.”
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷
You really shouldn’t have been doing this. It was stupid, completely idiotic. (maybe not as stupid as hooking up with your captain in a pub bathroom.) But alas, John Price could charm you into anything.
The cold night air of autumn nipped at your nose, making your face feel numb. Somehow you still felt the breeze blow through your bones while bundled up in a large coat and scarf. Hands in your pockets, you tried your best to walk inconspicuously through the small town streets next to the base.
It was late, past lights out. Just minutes before you were getting ready for bed. However, when Price called you up out of the blue asking for you to meet him for a night walk, curiosity got the best of you. To say it was odd would be an understatement, but you knew better than to pass up the opportunity. The nightlife in the little town was pretty nice, with Halloween now in full swing and all.
Small pumpkins and candles littered the ground while stores and bars were strung with purple and green lights. For a second you almost forgot you were supposed to be meeting Price. You checked your phone, reading over his message again.
[Captain]: The place is by the park, on 82th Ave. It’s an outdoor pop-up, festive. You can't miss it.
You looked over at one of the street signs, 79th Ave, it said. At least you were getting closer, directions weren't really your strong suit so all you could really do was hope for the best.
If anyone saw you out of base, especially with Price you’d 100% raise a few eyebrows not to mention you'd be in deep trouble. So you dipped your head as low as it could go to conceal your identity. Was this behavior one of a paranoid schizophrenic? It was possible. But after the phesasco at the bar, you were okay with being weary.
You heard a soft crowd of voices coming from a distance away. Walking towards it you saw a playground lit up with small lights, two children with what looked like their parents chasing them across the woodchips. More adults walking around the greener outskirts of the ground, laughing and holding dogs on leashes.
It stirred something good inside you, like a warm feeling that you didn't often get. You stopped walking, just watching the scene play out like a domestic storybook.
“Took you long enough.”
You jumped, whipping around to see the deep voice behind you. Standing there was Price, dressed in a thick coat with worn-out jeans. He held two plastic cups in his hands, steam rising off the mystery substance inside.
“You scared me,” You deadpanned. Your eyes went from the drinks in his hands back to his face. “-What’s with the cups?”
Price rolled his eyes, nodding behind him to the pop-up stand. “It’s cold, so I got you something to warm up.” He handed you one, which you accepted. Raising it to your nose, you sniffed the steam. It was warm, thick with spices, and sweet. You looked back at Price with a quizzical look, to which he smiled. “It’s cider.”
You raised an eyebrow, looking at him skeptically. “Not the spiked kind I hope.” Holding the cup a bit away from you like it was radioactive. Price's eyes crinkled, chuckling as he shook his head.
“No, not spiked. We've got drills in the morning, I wouldn't do that to you.” With his confirmation, you took a sip, pulling your scarf down so you could drink. The hot liquid burned your tongue, but the flavor was worth it as it slid down into your stomach. Your eyes flickered up from the rim of the cup, looking at Price.
His eyes were on you, looking at you with a rare kind of softness. But after the split second of eye contact, he was the first to look away. You wiped your lips of the remaining sweetness, “Price what are we doing here?” You asked.
He cocked an eyebrow, “I thought I told you we were going on a night walk.” He said nonchalantly, earning a half-grunt on your part.
“I know that, but why am I here? I doubt that you're incapable of walking alone.” You pointed out, but Price just shrugged.
“Good company.” He said serrupticously, a wry smile stretched onto his lips. “-Are you really that averse to spending time with me? I'd hope after all this time spent together I wouldn't need a reason to want to be around you.” Price started walking, and out of instinct, you followed behind him until you were shoulder-to-shoulder with him.
“You're a bad lair.” You said, taking another sip of your cider. You watched the calm nightlife and a thought bubbled into your mind. Maybe to an onlooker you and Price probably looked like a couple just going on a stroll. It wasn't rocket science to see that there was a fraction of tension between you. Your cheeks pinked at the thought, but you pushed it away as soon as it came.
Price was also looking at the surrounding people, an odd look on his face. Something akin to yearning or want. He must've felt your stare because he spoke up. “Inquiring minds?”
You averted your eyes, “Sorry.” To which he shook his head, taking a sip of his drink.
“Don't bother, it’s fine.” He said cooly, his eyes fixed on a family standing a few feet away. You looked back at them then back to Price. A dawning washing over you in an instant. Your eyes furrowed in question.
“You uh… have a family?” Jesus that sounded choppy, you cringed at yourself. He looked at you a little surprised but shook his head.
“I mean sure. Everyone does, at least at one point. But if you're asking if I do currently then no.” You nodded, feeling a little bad for asking. It wasn't too uncommon in your field, but it still put a grim mood in the air. You tried thinking of ways you could rectify it.
“So…no crazy ex-wife or estranged children that I need to be worried about?” You said humorously, when Price smiled, a part of you sighed in relief.
He shook his head again, glancing at you. “No ex-wife or estranged children, no.” You smiled and nodded, but that raised another question.
“How come?” you asked simply.
He shot you a pointed look, “You're asking me that like I'm ancient. I'm not that much older than you are,” He breathed. “-But if you have to know I guess I just never had the time. It's a bit testy trying to form long-term connections with people when you're in this line of work.”
You nodded in understanding, he was right. The long deployments, chances of not coming back, weird hours, it all would put a strain on a relationship. It didn't stop some, however, sometimes after not seeing the good in humanity for so long you lose the ability to connect with anyone. Especially ‘normal’ people.
Your mind flashed to an old ex-boyfriend who used to talk at length about how cool it was that you got to “kill people for a living.” You didn't see it that way. Desensitized or not, it was still a human life you were taking, it took a toll, even if you were getting paid for it.
“I get that. It's hard to commit to someone you don't get to see most of the time.” You shrugged, a part of you wanted to ask about every relationship he'd ever had. More importantly how you fared against them. And for some odd reason, you felt uncomfortable knowing that he had been with other women. Maybe it was just basic biology or primitive instinct.
Price nodded, “If I could I would've.” He glanced back at the family, watching as the dad swept up his toddler into a hug. It was bittersweet, the way Price looked at the display, dangerously pulling at your heartstrings.
You gave him a weary smile, “There’s still time. Like you said, you're not ancient. Why not just retire and settle down with someone?”
Price looked back at you for a split second, not saying anything. He looked back out at the dark trees, the leaves rustling in the cold wind, and the lights that wrapped around the park. “Maybe at one point that was an option, but not now. I'm not cut out for it, my life is here. I'm no good at civilian shit, so I best stick to what I know.”
You didn't know what to say to that, it was a tough pill to swallow. It was silent for a few seconds. But, You nudged your shoulder with his, “Well then, I guess you're stuck with me.” Offering a somewhat awkward smile to go along with it.
Price looked down at you as he walked, his blue eyes were dark like the ocean. You didn't want to look away, you wanted to swim in his thoughts, drown yourself in his pools of navy grey. Eyes that housed so much hostility and venom towards you now bore into your own with a warmth that struck you like a match. His lips turned up, “Guess there are worse places to be.”
Your smile came back, and the mood between you ebbed into a lighter, happier atmosphere. Taking a last swig of your cider you shook your head, “You guess? Need I remind you who asked me to be here?”
Price chuckled, doing the same and tossing his empty cup into a nearby garbage. “Alright, you win. I am grateful you came, like I said, all in good company.”
The conversation faded into a comfortable silence, and you and Price walked around the park. You watched as more and more people slowly started to dwindle, leaving it emptier than when you got there. After doing a sort of loop you both agreed to start walking back to base, and so you did. Shoulder to shoulder you walked with him through the small streets and shops.
Once you started coming up on the familiar large building a strong gust of air hit you. Your eyes shut tightly and your nose scrunched. When you did open your eyes back up Price was looking at you, you stared back at him. “What?”
Price snickered, “Wind got you pretty good. There's a leaf in your hair.” He pointed out, to which you blindly started to try and fish out said leaf. He shook his head at your feeble efforts, stopping your hands.
“I’ll get it. You're just messing it up.” He breathed, carefully his large hands combed through your head. Plucking out a pine leaf and a small fuzz, “There.” He said proudly.
He flicked the unwanted objects off to the side, but one of his hands never left your hair. He was almost holding your face in his palm, you blinked up at him. Wondering why he wasn't letting you go, “Is there something else?” You asked.
Price looked at you, licking his lips before pursing them in a line. Slowly he shook his head, “No.” It was silent for another beat, the soft puffs of your breath visible in the cold. You watched his adams apple bob as he swallowed.
“Tell me you don't want me to kiss you.” He breathed.
Without a second thought, you shook your head no, “Price kiss me.” It was almost alarming to you how naturally it came out. You barely even processed your own words.
And as his lips met yours in a chaste, soft kiss, you let yourself melt into him. You let him in.
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷
You had five months until your time with 141 came to an end. In that time you had managed to befriend the whole team, make enemies with your captain, kiss said Captain, go on to have a very explicit no-strings-attached relationship with him, and now…this.
What was ‘this?’ Well, you didn't really quite know yourself. But after that night when he kissed you outside of base without any intention of hooking up with you, your clear-cut relationship with him became a jumbled mess of suppressed emotion. No longer were intimate gestures limited to sexual encounters, in fact, they were frequently more domestic.
Was this all of Price’s doing? No. It was both, both of you were an intimacy-starved mess. But you couldn't help it, his private quarters were so nice and his king-sized bed seemed to fit both of you nicely on the nights you couldn't sleep. And what of it that you helped him with paperwork into the wee hours of the night? He hated being stuck up in his office alone, it was a kind gesture. Now you didn't even have to make your morning tea and coffee because whenever you made your way into the small break room a fresh cup was always sitting on the counter for you in Price’s signature mug.
And on your weekends off? Oh, you bet your sorry (but not really,) ass he was stuck to your hip like glue.
Without knowing it, you and your captain had almost formed a routine together. One that slowly started filling the lonely silence of your day with his body, his voice, his presence.
You knew every scar on his body, you'd mapped them out like constellations. You learned something new about him every day too, it was exciting yet familiar all at once. Unbenoiced to you, 141 and by extension Price, had become home.
All of this had somehow been accumulating without your knowledge until now. To which this realization that you were a little too fond of your captain hit you like a truck. Bringing you to your current position, hunched over a small table that was tucked away in the corner of the break room. It was wayyy past lights out, but laying in your bed left with your thoughts and anxiety sounded nightmarish. A steaming cup of tea sat on the table a few inches away, (in Price’s signature mug of course.)
Just as you were about to finally take a sip, someone walked in. You sat straight up, your heart running a million miles an hour. On top of that, you almost knocked your tea over. Who the hell was coming in at almost one in the morning???
It was Gaz.
You placed a hand over your racing heart, letting out the breath you didn't know you were holding. “Jesus- you scared the shit out of me Garrick.” You said wearily.
Gaz stood at the door in his beat-up grey sweatshirt and plaid pajama pants. He looked a little rough, well, as rough as someone with his looks could be. He scratched the back of his head, “Sorry, didn't think anyone would be up this late.” Dark eyebags colored his smooth brown skin, making him look like he was two steps from passing out.
Your eyebrows furrowed in a slight amount of worry, “rough night?” He nodded, walking into the room, and making a beeline for the refrigerator.
“Pretty much, figured it was better to be awake than sleeping if sleep wasn't doing me any good.” He yawned, grabbing one of those refrigerated protein bars from the fridge. You nodded a silent understanding. Nightmares were commonplace, nobody talked about them, but everyone had a shared understanding of what went on in and after you woke up. Sometimes it was hard to distinguish where the dream ended and reality began.
He looked back at you as he tore the wrapper off, “What about you? You look like shit…so I want to say you're in the same boat?” Gaz took a large bite of his bar.
You groaned, your head falling back down on the wood table. “Gee, thanks. But not really, just sorting out some other business.” You said bitterly.
Gaz hummed in understanding, but when you looked back up he was pulling the opposite end chair out. He sat himself across from you, folding his arms as he ate. “Okay, what's up then?” He said plainly.
You blinked at him, “What? No, I'm not just going to tell you. It's private.” You said shaking your head and putting your hands up as if to block his question. Gaz looked at you unimpressed, raising a single eyebrow.
“Uh-huh, does it have something to do with Price?” He said, staring at you with the intensity of a laser.
You almost choked on your spit, looking at him like he'd just killed your family cat in front of you. Your mouth agape, “Absolutely not. Why would you think it’d be about Price?” You said quickly.
Gaz simply looked at you, raising both his eyebrows at you. A silent communication of ‘Are you serious?’ was said by his stare. After another moment of the staring contest, you gave up, dropping your head back down with a groan. “I'm so fucked.” You said defeated.
He perked up, “Spill.” Was all he said.
You covered your mouth, almost as if to stop yourself from saying anything. This was so breaking every agreement you and Price had talked about. But frankly, you were going insane keeping it to yourself. And maybe Gaz was the best person to tell, as much as you loved Ghost and Soap, they were useless at keeping secrets.
You glanced back up to Gaz, his brown eyes intently staring at you. Your resolve started to crumble, “I think I’m in love with him.” Whispered, the haunting words magnifying the gravity of the situation you found yourself in.
Gaz’s eyes shot wider like he’d just been injected with 1,000g of caffeine. His mouth fell open, and the half-eaten bar in his hands dropped onto the table. You both sat there staring at each other with similar mortified expressions. He shut his mouth, “I-Well that wasn't really what I expected to hear.” He said agast.
You buried your face into your hands, groaning. “Fuck I know- I don't even know where that came from. But we've been like…messing around with each other for a few months, and I thought it was just that.” You sighed, rubbing your face with your palms. “But now everything is like complicated, I just let my feelings take the reins and got ahead of myself. Now I don't know what to do and nobody knows because obviously, I couldn't tell anyone. After all, either of us could get in trouble.”
Gaz sat silent as you rambled on, “-I’m still not sure exactly what I'm feeling. I've never felt this way about anyone else, I've had boyfriends, but not a weird hookup situation. So, I'm not sure how one really goes about this.” You looked down at the table, taking a breath. “So, does that answer your question?” You breathed.
He stared at you, dumbfounded. “So that rumor you got so mad over was true?” He said lamely, to which you groaned and threw your hands up in the air.
“No!” You whisper shouted, “-I mean no but yes. The rumor came first, that night I stormed off Price kissed me. And after that things just kinda… got carried away.” You said sheepishly, feeling a bit guilty.
Gaz let out a deep sigh, leaning back in his chair. “Jesus [Name], I knew something was going on between you but I didn't think it went that deep.” He ran a hand over his chin, scratching his jaw. “-So…you and Price have been secretly fucking, but just recently you realized that this uh, arrangement, has gone to shit because you now have feelings for him. Am I following?”
You pursed your lips into a tight line, “Pretty much.”
He nodded and hummed in concentration, “Okay, but what changed? What made you realize you had feelings? Because to the rest of the team, it still looks like you’re at each other's throats.” Gaz said, crossing his arms.
You thought about it for a moment, trying to pull maybe a specific event from your memory. “I guess it just kinda built up…I mean he just changed. Sure we still fight but it’s more like banter now. He kisses me, and he holds me, he's funny and sweet…it's almost like I get to see an entirely new version of him that I just didn't see before.”
Gaz blinked at you, seemingly surprised. “Actually?” He said, stunned. To which you nodded aggressively.
“Yes- he's totally done a 180. But in a good way, he's still the same asshole but he's loving and caring too. And I feel like I'm pulling my teeth out just staying in a situation where he makes me feel like I mean so much, but then I have to go and pretend I hate him.” (you still sometimes did.)
Gaz listened to you speak, holding his chin while he thought about your words. After you were done, all he could do was sigh, “Well…shit. Half of me wants to pat you on the back while the other half wants to slap you across the face for being stupid.”
You scrunched your nose, holding your hands up in surrender. “Please don't, I have enough problems as it is. I don't need to add a black eye into the mix.”
Gaz breathed an amused laugh, though, it sounded more weary than you would've liked. Even if it was the worst idea in the world to tell him, you felt better now that it was off your chest. You looked down at the table, “So, what do I do now?”
He opened his mouth to respond but all that came out was silence. He was just as lost as you were.
You looked at him hopelessly, “Come on man, give me something.”
Gaz looked down at the table, pursing his lips in a tight line. Obviously, he had an idea, but he just wasn't saying anything. “What if you tried to make it work with him?” He proposed.
Your eyes widened a fraction, your mouth hanging open in what only could be described as ‘gobsmacked.’ “You're kidding right?” You asked, your tone nearly laughable.
He shook his head, crumbling up the wrapper of his protein bar and tossing it into a nearby trashcan. His shoulders rose with a sigh, “No I'm not. I mean… why not just try? It sounds to me like you've got a fighting chance to make things work.” He said encouragingly.
You pinched the bridge of your nose, your eyes squeezing shut. “Two minutes ago you said you wanted to slap me, and now you're telling me that I should go for it?” You said incredulous.
Gaz held his hands up in surrender, “Yes, but that was before I knew everything. I just thought you were fucking the Captain at first, which is still completely idiotic. But it sounds to me like both of you are emotionally invested in each other.” He said putting his hands back down, “-And you're only here for a couple more months right? Just keep it on the down-low then you can do whatever you want. I'm like ninety percent sure that Price likes you too.”
You groaned, your head falling on the table with a clunk. “Only ninety percent?” Peeking up to look at him, his face morphing into one of scrunched wash cloth.
“Maybe like eighty-five. But those are still good odds in my book.” He said guiltily, rubbing the back of his neck.
“You're not helping.” You sighed, resuming your dramatic pity party. Gaz rolled his eyes at your antics, placing a comforting hand on your head and giving it an encouraging pat. “Hey, I'm not saying you have to do some big confession. All I'm doing is suggesting that communicating with him may bring some good. Like Soap said that one time, Price acts differently around you, I think you've got some good chances.”
You finally looked up at him again, his face a pitying smile. “Think about it.” He said finally, leaving you with more on your mind than you originally started with.
“Okay, I'll think about it.”
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷
Four months to go and nothing had happened. Well, not necessarily, the team had continued to train, your sneaking around with Price was still going, and the world kept spinning. Turns out that realizing one's feelings for another doesn't cause the sun to explode. Fascinating stuff.
However, there was still no confession of feelings of any kind. The two of you danced around your ‘relationship’ like it was a ticking time bomb just waiting to explode. Maybe it was for the greater good, some things were just better off unsaid.
In the meantime, your focus had shifted in light of new events that were fast approaching. You still cringed thinking of your first real mission back in Urzik, and while nothing horrible happened, it still left you with a sour taste on your tongue. There were small things 141 had been doing but now a new mission was right around the corner. There was still little to no word about rouge commander Shepard nor an explanation of the abandoned facility you had raided months back.
You still didn't even know if the two were connected, probably not. But it was still possible, maybe best not to think too hard about it. After all, you weren't the brains behind the operations, you were just the pon they sent to die in their place.
The air around 141 had become tense again, much like before Urzik. Everyone was on edge, especially Price. You were happy to take the edge off most of the time, but there were some things that sex just couldn't fix. And this fell into that category.
You were sitting on an office chair in one of the conference rooms around base. The rest of the team stood close to the large wooden table or sat in the other scattered chairs. The tension in the room was thick, nobody said a word. All focus was on Price, who stood a few feet apart from the group, flipping through a manilla folder. His eyebrows furrowed in tension and his lips pulled into a subtle frown.
He set the folder down, “We’re going back to Urzik.”
You could almost feel the shift in the mood from bad to worse. But before you could voice your complaints Soap beat you to it. “We’re going back to that shite hole? After what happened last time I would have assumed someone figured out that we should stay out of the terrorists and the Russians assholes.”
Price sighed, punching the bridge of his nose. “We don't know if they were terrorists back at the compound. And Urzik hasn't been under Russian occupation since 2019.” He said, earning a half laugh from both Soap and Ghost.
“Come on Cap, you don't even believe that crap they're pushing.” Soap chuckled, his arms crossed over his chest. Leaning against the wall behind you.
While it was true that Urzikstan had been liberated from Russian rule, some of the men under General Markov’s command had disappeared after his death. Leaving some loose ends for the CIA and SAS to clean up. There had been some word of Markov’s men teaming up with local militant groups who despised Urzik’s central government. But it wasn't confirmed, nor viable.
Price shook his head, “It doesn't matter if I believe it or not. The point is that we have a job to do and we’re not going to let past affairs get the better of our judgment.” He ran his hand over the scruff of his beard, “-Laswell wouldn't be sending us in again if she didn't have a good reason to. They have reasonable intel that just outside of Riyzabbi there's an abandoned bazaar where all of the goods from the compound were relocated.”
Ghost chimed in, “So they're sending us on the same wild goose chase they did before? Who's to say they don't pull the same shite as last time?”
You nodded along with his words, he had a point. Price grunted, waving him off. “Like I said before, they have better intel. I'm asking you to trust me, if I see anything I don't like we’re out. Whatever is in there, we have the means to put it to an end.”
Everyone fell silent, taking in the information. It was a while before anyone spoke again, Soap sighed. “If I have to eat that awful food back at checkpoint base I’m quitting on the spot.”
For a second the mood shifted, and you laughed, but the reality of the situation was hovering over you like a looming storm cloud.
For a brief moment, you locked eyes with Price, and his stare told you everything you needed to know. He was just as frustrated, if not more so. His gaze shifted again, staring down at the table with an intensity you couldn't fathom. “Everyone’s dismissed. We leave at 0500 in 72 hours.”
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷
As Price said, 72 hours later, you were back in the air, flying to Urzikstan. An ache gnawed at the back of your head, making the already dreary ride more depressing. You were too uncomfortable to sleep and too tired to stay awake. Creating an odd out-of-body experience that you had the “pleasure” of basking in for the whole 5-hour flight.
After you had landed at the checkpoint base you took a moment to reacquaint yourself with the landscape. Not much had changed aside from a few new tents and other minor additions to the camp. You felt a sense of Deja Vu looking at the old dining hall tent and medical area. Memories from your and Price’s first kiss flooded your mind, under different circumstances, it might have been somewhat pleasant recounting the moment. But now, it only made you feel profoundly sad. It was nostalgic-back when everything was simpler between the two of you.
Whatever was bubbling up inside you, you shoved it down as far as it could go. Hating someone was a lot more straightforward than loving them.
You made your way to the ‘barracks,’ setting what little things you had onto the small cot. Everyone else was just as miserable as you were, obviously, this wasn't their first choice for sleeping quarters. A part of you wished it wasn't daytime, it would be easier to sleep away the anxiety and headache.
You had until dark to do as you pleased, when nightfall came, you were going to be loaded up into the trucks again. From there, you'd go to Riyzabbi, and once it was clear to do so, to the bazaar.
Just like the last time you were here, you felt a deep sense of dread. One that you couldn't pinpoint, nor could you explain away with ‘just nerves’. There was too much that you didn't know, and too little payoff. The only advantage 141 had was the element of surprise, and even that wasn't confirmed. A small part of you felt anger towards Laswell, she probably knew that there was something off about this mission, and yet she was sending you and the team directly into the pit of lions.
To quell the sense of impending doom, you started to wander around the checkpoint base. Not sure where you were going or what your end goal was, you continued walking. That was until you heard someone's voice bleeding out from one of the tent walls. Their tone was accusatory, malicious even, it was laced with so much venom you could feel your skin recoil. It didn't sound familiar, but the voice who came after it did.
“You know just as well as I do it's a suicide mission. I’m not sending my team out there to die. All for some fucking game of territory monopoly and protecting Shepard.”
Price.
The other voice spoke up again, seemingly more agitated than the first time if that was possible. “Shepard is gone, and he sure as hell isn't going to be here in Urzik. And It's not a suicide mission. The CIA hired your team to do a job, not back out when things get real. Your opinion on how the government deals with involvement concerning foreign enemy affairs has no merit, Captain. If it were up to me, your team wouldn't even be here, but Kate Laswell keeps you on a tight leash doesn't she?”
You heard a loud bang, akin to a hard fist being slammed onto flat wood. “Watch your mouth. You and your muppets can both go crawl back under the CIA’s boot. As for Laswell, you know just as well as I do she would be more than happy to bring you and rouge commander Shepard's previous associations to the attention of your government.”
There was silence for a beat. Suddenly you could feel your heart beating, pounding in your chest. Your fingers felt numb, and even time seemed to slow. You could say with 100% certainty that you were not supposed to be listening, you weren't even sure if you wanted to keep listening. You heard footsteps coming from the inside, in your peripheral vision, you caught the slight rustle of the tent door. Without thought you jumped out of sight, pressing yourself to the side of the tent just as a man stormed out.
You watched the back of his head as he muttered something, you held your breath. After a good minute, you exhaled, silently creeping out from where you stood. Something in you was telling you to leave, to pretend you had never heard what you did. But there was a magnetic pull that drew you back into Price.
Carefully, you peeked your head through the tent door. A few feet away was Price, his back was turned with his hand over his face, the other on his hip. Before you could speak he turned around to see you, his eyes growing twice the size. Time seemed to freeze for a second time, you watched his eyes go from surprise to anger, and then to exhaustion. By the look on your face, he most likely already knew what you were hiding.
“How much did you hear?” He sighed, rubbing his hand over his cheek.
You walked into the tent, standing awkwardly in front of the door. “Just the last part.” You confessed, swallowing what little bravery you had left.
Price didn't respond, his hand moving over his eyes to rub and smooth over his temples. His cheeks pulled in as he bit the inside of his mouth. “Right… well, I'm sorry you had to hear that.” He breathed, his voice more weary. A stark contrast to the raw anger you heard from him a few moments prior.
You shook your head, “Don't be sorry. At first, I was mad at you and Laswell for going through with this. But… I guess after that, I know you didn't want to either.” You tried your best to form a semblance of hope, giving him a drained smile. “Like you said, this mission is fucking suicide. But if anyone can lead the team and somehow come out alive, it's you.”
There was a flash of something in Price’s eyes, it was the same thing that you saw back on your walk with him months prior. You glanced down at his hands, watching the way they flexed. Like he was aching to hold, to touch something. His throat bobbed as he swallowed, “I’m sorry.” He breathed, “-I’m sorry that I'm putting you and the guys in this situation.”
Price’s hand came back up, dragging it across the side of his face. His eyes shut tight, eyebrows knit together. “It's just…the longer I stay here, doing this, the more it's clear to me none of it was for a greater good. And I don't want that for you.” He sighed, “-I…I want you to know there is a way out [Name]. You don't have to continue to do this.”
This made you draw back, Price had never sounded like this before. He sounded like he was already admitting defeat, and like he was giving you a chance to escape what you chose to do. Your eyebrows furrowed, marching straight up to him with your lips twisted in a frown. You reached up to pull his hand away from his face, your other hand reaching up to cup his cheek with your hand. Your palm pressed against his jaw, feeling the rough bristle of his beard under the pads of your fingers. Forcing him to look at you.
“Don’t do that.” You said sternly, making his eyes snap back. Looking at you with a mixture of surprise and confusion. “-Don’t act like everything is already set in stone, we don't know what's going to happen. It could go bad but it could also be fine. And you're also acting like I didn't choose to be here, I'm willing to do this job Price. Just because I don't like what shady shit someone is doing behind the scenes doesn't mean I'm going to back out.”
Price stared at you, and you stared back. Willing him to understand that you had hope for him, you had hope for the team. Maybe it was stupid to try and be strong, but if you didn't try, you'd be giving up too.
You couldn't leave, not now. Not when you had a reason to stay. As much as you hated the idea of someone sending you into a death trap, the only thing you hated even more would be leaving Price to go into said death trap. You couldn't pry yourself away from him even if you tried. Your hand squeezed his, I love you, the gesture said.
Price squeezed your hand back, “[Name], I-” I love you, his eyes said. You shook your head, staring back at him with the same intensity.
“I know.” You breathed back. You couldn't stand it, you wanted to hear the words from his mouth. You wanted it with everything in you, but this was probably the worst time you could think of to confess. So, you settled for a mutual understanding. A silent promise, that when you came back maybe things could be different.
There was another beat before he leaned in, and like an idiot, you let it happen. Your hand tightened slightly against his cheek, eyes fluttering shut as he kissed you. His lips were warm, and you sighed into his mouth as you got a taste of him. His mouth that tasted like smoke and whiskey, and you yearned for more. His body was charged with an electricity that sent shivers down your spine. Every brush, touch, and groan had you on edge.
Before you knew it, he was pushing you up against the table that sat in the middle of the room. Your hand slid down from his face to fist into his shirt as you were slowly backed against the wood. You should've pushed him off, it was too risky to be doing this now. It was mid-day for fucks sake, not only that but anyone could walk into the tent.
Yet something about the tension, exposed and raw like an open cable wire, held you back from protesting. Hell, if this was the last time you were going to see him outside of the field, mind as well go out with a bang (literally).
Price must've come to the same conclusion by the way he sat you down on the table, standing in between your parted thighs. His breath was heavy and his lips slick, taking you in with his eyes. “Fuckin’ Christ love, you're a vision. I don't say it enough, but you're gorgeous.” He murmured, breathless.
You felt your cheeks go hot, the warmth seeping up into your ears. Taking compliments was never your strong suit. Price pressed a chaste kiss on your forehead, his hands moving from your waist to the belt and zipper of your pants. His lips brushed against the shell of your ear, “Baby lay back for me.”
Well with that voice, you couldn't bear to not comply. You hesitantly lowered your back onto the flat wood of the table. Propping yourself on your elbows, watching as Price slowly pulled your pants down to reveal your undergarments. His eyes flickered to you then back to your covered pussy, an insatiable hunger in those pools of navy blue. He lowered to his knees, hooking your thighs under his biceps. Price pressed a few soft nips and kisses to the burning skin of your inner thighs, earning a few soft gasps on your part.
Your nails scraped against the wood, biting down on your lip to keep your voice down. With one hand, Price hooked his finger against the fabric of your panties, parting it to the side to show your soaked cunt. A small groan left him at the sight of you, he glanced back at you. “You’re gonna be quiet now right?”
Without a thought behind it, you nodded. Desperate to have his mouth on you, he leaned in, flattening his tongue to lick a long stripe up your folds. Your head fell back, eyes fluttering for a moment. When he started to swirl his tongue over your clit, you almost broke. “Price-” You gasped out, your voice a whisper.
He hummed against your cunt, suctioning his mouth against your clit. “No Price here, we’re far past that love. Use my name baby, use my name and I'll listen.” He murmured, the vibrations of his voice making your mind dizzy. One of your hands threaded into his short hair, guiding his face against your pussy.
“Fuck- John, feels good. Feels so good.” You whispered, your voice almost a mewl. His dull nails dug into the meat of your thigh, groaning softly as he lapped at your weeping cunt. Your eyes squeezed shut, all of your concentration honing in on trying not to moan out loud.
His tongue switched between fast flicks of your clit and drawn-out open-mouthed kisses to your mound. When you got more desperate you guided him to where you wanted, and John was happy to oblige.
Your back was now flat on the table, thighs locked around Price’s head like a boa constrictor. Your voice was now silent moans and labored breaths, and with every passing moment, it was harder to stay quiet. Your nails tugged at his hair, gripping onto him like a lifeline. John suddenly pushed his tongue into your hole without warning, pushing the tip of the muscle in and out with vigor. You nearly screamed, slapping a hand over your mouth to bite on your knuckle.
Price was devouring you like a man starving.
Your back arched off the wood of the table, methodically moving your hips in tandem with his tongues movements. The slurry of noises coming from John’s mouth and your cunt was obscene. Wet smacks of his lips mixed with small groans and deep gasps.
It felt like you were floating, your senses muddied beneath the feeling of his mouth. Your body was burning, a coil in your stomach just begging to snap. You bucked your hips into his face, begging him to quell the fires raging in your body. Price seemed to catch on, he held one of your thighs tight while the other slid between your legs. His mouth hovering over your pussy, he slipped a digit into your aching cunt.
You silently cried out, your core tightly gripping his finger as he curled it inside you. Then, he slowly worked in a second, mimicking the ‘come here’ motion with his fingers buried deep in your pussy. “Atta’ girl, little longer for me.” John breathed against you, his breath fanning against your cunt.
Suddenly he was on you again, swirling his tongue over your swollen bud while curling his digits in you. You could have died happy then and there, everything felt so good you couldn't think. Your nails dug into the table, marking it with long stripes.
Between his fingers and his tongue, you were a goner. Your vision went white, trying your hardest not to scream out to the heavens. “John- shit I can’t I'm gonna cum.” You whined through heavy pants, tears pooling in the corner of your iris from the stimulation.
“Come on then, cum for me. Let go love, cum on my mouth.” He murmured against your sopping pussy, flicking his tongue over your clit and speeding the movement of his fingers.
That was all it took before you came, hard. Your back arched and your head fell back, biting down on your hand so hard that it hurt. Your thighs shook as the wave of your orgasm crashed over you, white-hot and mind-blowing. And John fucked you through it, never letting up on his page until you fell limp like a bag of flour. After those precious few moments, he gently slid his fingers from your cunt. Pressing a soft kiss to your thigh before setting it down slowly.
You were gone. Your brain turned to mush, a daze of post-orgasm exhaustion and giddiness. Slowly you blinked your eyes back open, letting John slowly guide you back to a sitting position. He held the small of your back while his other hand held your face.
“You alright?” John murmured, his mouth shiny with your slick. You couldn't help but laugh, your forehead hitting his lightly.
“Yeah, yeah, I'm alright.” You breathed. The after-glow hit you hard, but there was still the looming anxiety of the mission. You knew the moment wouldn't last forever, you just hoped you could bask in it a little longer.
John sensed the shift, knowing it was his turn to be brave, rubbing his thumb over your cheek. His eyes soft, “Hey, like you said, we’re gonna be okay. Nothing is set in stone yet.” He whispered, making you nod.
“Right. We’re going to come out of this.” You said, more for yourself. He nodded, the both of you knew deep down it was wishful thinking. But maybe having something to hope for, something to come back to, would push you to fight even harder to keep it.
And in the end, you were willing to do anything to keep this.
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷
Everything around you was dark, with an air pungent with dust and grime. The walls only grew bigger and shadowed as you passed, ducking behind doors and boxes to remain out of sight. Just like last time everyone was paired in either a group of two or three, you were with Ghost. You had to give him credit where credit was due, as large and burly as he was, he was silent as he moved.
The bazaar was large, with huge openings in the ceilings covered by hanging fabric. Open doors that connected rooms and massive lamps draped from the walls. It might've even been nice had it not been for its years of inactivity, and under the cover of night, it was simply eerie. Wires covered the walls and ceiling, some even hanging down low enough to snag someone if you weren't careful.
You weren't quite sure what exactly you were looking for, after all, you didn't know what this aforementioned ‘bio-chemical lab’ looked like. And if it was easily portable, it wouldn't exactly look like your standard chemistry lab.
“[Name].”
Ghost spoke into your headpiece, standing several feet away. You snapped out of your train of thought, looking back at him.
“Let’s get a move on, the others are on the top floor. I'm guessing it’s near the bottom, or even underground, be on high alert. There's bound to be people this time around.” He said, earning a nod from your end.
With that, you made your way further into the bazaar. Gun at the ready, you weaved through rooms and piles of storage and other junk. When you got to a large room on the north side of the building, tucked away between rubble and containers your body tensed. There wasn't anything unordinary about it, it looked exactly like every other room, but something felt off. A few steps into the space and you had your explanation for the uneasiness you felt.
With an odd thunk’ of your boot on the ground, you looked back at Ghost. He looked back at you, the same expression on his face, it was hollow.
You came off it, brushing your foot over the area again to remove the grime and dust. It was a different color and texture than the ground. “Well I’ll be damned, you were right.” You breathed, “-Think this opens up from the outside?” Ghost kneeled on the ground next to whatever you found. Pushing his hand over it and sending small clouds of dust into the air.
“Doesn't matter if it does.” He said, fishing out a knife from his bullet vest. Finding a dibet with his finger in the ground he wedged the blade in between the surface, pulling up until the ground lifted.
With a grunt, he wrapped his fingers around the edge of the trap door. Pulling until the structure revealed a human-sized rectangular hole in the ground. A latter peeking out from inside the ground pressed into the side of the dirt. You stared down at it, knowing this was it. Clicking your headpiece, you spoke, “Cap, we got something. Northside, ground floor, it’s a trap door in the last room.”
After a moment you got a response, “Copy. See what you can find, we’re coming. If you see anything don't think, just shoot. I want you and Ghost alive.” Price’s voice rang loud and clear in your ear.
With a nod, you looked back down at the hole, even with night vision, it was hard to make out the bottom. Ghost was the first to go down, with you following suit the minute he gave the all-clear to come down. Inside was dark and smelled like mildew, a tunnel leading further into the unknown. The same wires that hung down from up on the surface were strung about the dirt walls. It wasn't spacious in the tunnel, but it didn't make you feel claustrophobic.
Ghost raised his gun, nodding to you to follow as you made your way deeper. It wasn't long until you reached a door, it wasn't impenetrable by any means, but it was going to be a pain to get through. But the thing that caught your attention most was the faint light that peeked from the cracks of the hinges. Ghost looked at you, “Get back, and I’ll break the door, you follow in straight after and shoot at anything you see.”
As said, with a firm kick, Ghost kicked the door down. The metal swung open with a crackle, and with your gun at the ready, you quickly followed him inside. The first thing you heard was voices, panicked and deep. Your eyes met a man in the corner of the room, quickly scrambling up to his feet and reaching the rifle that lay in front of him. Just like you were told, you didn't think, you acted on instinct.
Your gun went off, and his body was forced back by the blow. Blood spattered the wall behind him, his head rolling limp on his shoulders. You heard another shot fired, looking over to Ghost who was in firing position, and then to the direction of his rifle. Another body, this one standing, keeled over onto the floor, pooling red onto the ground. A deafening silence followed after, you waited for more voices but they never came.
“Just two?” You said, looking between the two. “-and they don't look local.” You muttered, focusing on the pale skin and European features. You looked back to Ghost who was standing a few feet away. “-Think they might be Russian like Soap said?”
Ghost shrugged, “It's possible.” He gruffed, looking around the room. It was emptier than you expected, with a table, lamps, flasks, and a few weapons. Another voice rang out from somewhere in the cavern before you could look any further. Coming from another hallway that you had missed when you first saw the room.
You quickly ran against the wall near the hallway entrance, pressing yourself into the hard surface so you wouldn't be seen. Ghost followed suit, and not a second later another man ran out, rifle in hand. And just like before you fired, watching the body hit the ground like a sac of potatoes.
This one looked like he could be from Urzik. You looked back at Ghost, who pushed off the wall, ducking into the hallway. It wasn't long before you entered a much bigger cavern, full of boxes and equipment. Open containers of guns with ammunition, tables covered with cylinder-shaped lab equipment. You could hardly classify this as a lab, more like a glorified basement with makeshift tools. Large computers also lined what little space they could occupy. Florescent overhead lights cast the room in a putrid dimish glow.
Before you had time to react a bullet brushed past your arm. Sending a burning shock through your system. You ducked, trying to avoid what you couldn't see.
“They're shooting!” You yelled out to Ghost, finding refuge in a large container that you hid behind.
You looked around, desperate to see where the firing was coming from. Your eyes caught three at first glance, one person across the room, hiding behind another container. Another fired from a doorway, and the last one hid behind a table. All three aiming for either your box of Ghost. Your hands held your gun with an iron grip, turning your knuckles white.
You peeked out from behind the container, aiming for the second guy in the doorway. Your first shot missed, but your second shot straight through his forehead. Ghost, from wherever he was, took out the third guy from behind the table. Leaving the one behind the other container, peaking back out you felt another bullet fly past you. You scrambled back, your heartbeat hammering in your chest.
You called out to Ghost, “I can't get him! You're gonna have to take the last one!” After another shot to your hiding place, chipping the wood of the contained, Ghost called back.
“Copy! I've got him!” He yelled, a final shot echoing through the cavern before everything fell into an eerie silence. You tentatively rounded the corner of the container, looking back at the first guy's hiding spot. When all you saw was his body flat on the ground, you breathed a sigh of relief.
You heard Ghost call to you again, “[Name], you hurt?” You stood up, looking over in the direction of his voice. He was behind one of the walls of the hallway, pressed against the dirt wall.
“No, I'm all good. You?” You said back, scanning him for any sign of injury. He shook his head, letting his gun fall to his side.
“I'm clear.” He said, walking out from the hallway. You looked back at the three bodies adorning the floor, which made six in total so far. These three also looked like they were locals, you walked over to one. Moving your foot to hover over their hand, you kicked the gun away, staring at the blackened tattoo on his palm. Before, Soap had mentioned that rebel groups in Urzik shared a tattoo on their palms. Much like a gang tattoo, it united them under a common collective.
You looked back at Ghost, “What do Urzik terrorists have to do with us? If this really is a problem with uprisings against their government, why would the SAS and the CIA get involved?”
Your mind flashed to the conversation between Price and the commander back at the checkpoint base. He had said that if it had been up to him, 141 would never have been involved. Laswell had been the one to push for the team's involvement, even with its potholes. Then came Shepard, whose disappearance had led to your involvement with the team in the beginning. The only link to this you had to Shepard was his name being mentioned back at base.
Jesus, your head hurt just trying to think about it.
Ghost walked over to you, “My advice wouldn't be to think too hard about it [Name]. We’re doing a job, thinking about shite like this leads into a bigger rabbit hole than you think.”
You nodded, a frown settling onto your lips. Nothing about this sat right with you, but that was the cost you paid for being here in the first place.
“The important thing is, we located the lab. Now we just make sure there's nobody else so someone else can pick up the mess over here.” He said, making you nod along with him. Price and the other guys would probably be down any minute, that would make clearing everything out a hell of a lot easier.
You looked back at the man on the ground, staring into the fleshy eyes that held no light. You were reminded of the compound, staring into the eyes of the man who had shot Price’s foot. You didn't feel sorry, more hollow.
Ghost turned his back, looking over to the entranceway hall. And the split second for him to turn around was all it took for something to go wrong all over again. With no warning, you felt something burn your side, sharp and hot like lava. A hand yanked you back, snaked around your neck, and held you back to something firm. You could barely choke out a gasp, the thorn in your side sending shocks of pain through your body you didn't even know was possible.
Something cold pressed against your temple, you could barely process what was happening before you heard a click. Ghost whipped around at the noise, immediately holding up his rifle to whatever was behind you.
For a brief moment, time stopped. You were all too familiar with what was happening, you were being held at gunpoint. Nobody moved, Ghost's voice suddenly echoing through the silent room. “Shepard. Let her go.” He said.
You blinked, Shepard? Fuck, you didn't see that coming. You thought maybe he had a small part in the involvement, but you didn't expect him to actually be here. You tried to look at him, but his arm around your throat only tightened, making you squirm. The thing in your side, most likely a knife, only seemed to hurt more the longer it was left sticking out of you.
“Drop your gun, and I will.” His voice was cold, it sounded like sandpaper. His breath made your nostrils recoil in disgust.
Ghost shook his head, his eyes darting between yours and the man holding you. “You and I both know that's not happening.” The barrel of the gun pressed into your skin harder, making you wince. Your hands clawing at his arm to pry him off your neck.
“If you don't drop that gun, I will kill this one. And that's a promise.” He said, your body felt numb, and the lack of oxygen only seemed to make you all the weaker. You heard voices from beyond the hallway, your mind screaming for John. You needed him, you needed him to come and fix the mess you had gotten yourself into. Being a hostage was by far your least favorite activity.
Ghost swallowed, still pointing his gun at Shepard. “Shepherd, it's in your best interest that you let her go. You're not getting out of this, you know that. You shoot her and it’s just another kill added to your list of crimes, let’s not lengthen that sentence.”
Shepard snarled, “I'll be damned if I'm sent to prison, we can do this all-day lieutenant. You pull that trigger, and I fire. If you put the gun down, maybe we can negotiate something.”
You tried gasping for air, your airways closing up. Nails clawing at his shirt, like a caged animal trying to get out of its enclosure. From your squinted eyes you could make out the form of Price, Gaz, and Soap entering the room, guns at the ready. The pain in your side fired back up again as the blade twisted, making you yelp.
“Shepherd put the fucking gun down!” You absentmindedly recognized John's voice, your vision growing fuzzier by the second.
You tried your best to fight, thinking of anything you could to stay conscious. You thought of your friends, family, and John. Between the knife in your side, the gun against your head, and his arms around your throat it was a miracle you could even think. You blinked again, gasping for more air. You saw Ghost and Price, Soap a few feet away, Gaz must've been somewhere in the room as well.
“Get back or she's dead!” Shepard barked, his voice ringing in your ear. You saw blotches of black in your vision, your body slowly losing its feeling.
As you blacked out, you heard a gunshot fire.
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷
A white light flooded your vision, making your face scrunch up in discomfort. It was harsh and almost painful, you tried shutting your eyes as tight as they could go, but it was burned into your retinas.
Your limbs felt sluggish, you couldn't lift your arms. It seemed like you could only move your face, after another minute of trying to shut out the light, you gave up. Blinking your eyes open, you saw said white light hanging down from an even whiter ceiling.
“Holy shit, you're awake.” A female voice said, making you halt. You knew that voice, your eyes darted to the sound. Turing your head from its apparent, laying position to follow your gaze. Your eyes met an older woman, she had bangs and blondish hair.
“Laswell?” You croaked, your voice was shot. It sounded like a frog, making you internally cringe.
Kate Laswell stood at the foot of your bed, her hands grabbed at your arm. “Don’t talk [Name], the nurse said you shouldn't be using your voice for the next couple of days.” She scolded. You grunted, your throat felt as dry as the Sahara.
The pain slowly started to come back, a deep-seated ache that made you wince. “What happened?” You breathed. Your mind was fuzzy, the last thing you remembered was being in the bazaar and being held at gunpoint by Shepherd.
Laswell pursed her lips in a line, obviously not too thrilled about the events that transpired. “Well, John told me after you passed out they managed to disarm Shepard. But by that point, you were already gone, so they got you out. After that, you were transported to the checkpoint base and now you're in the hospital.”
You were following up until the hospital part, last time you checked, the checkpoint base didn't have a full-fledged hospital. “Hospital where?” You croaked, looking at Laswell for an answer.
“D.C,” She said plainly, almost like it was obvious. “It was the easiest place I would be able to keep an eye on you until you woke up.”
You barely had the energy to be surprised, “Oh.” Was what you settled on. “Where is the rest of the team?” You asked.
She sighed, “John is here. Garrick and Ghost are still in Urzik for another day, they have other matters they need to sort out first. Soap also came here with you, though he's not in the hospital.”
You nodded along, a small part of you relaxed when you heard John's name. He was here, which meant he was most likely safe. Your eyes closed, “oh, good then.” You sighed, your voice a whisper. Any louder and it would sound like your vocal cords were being torn to ribbons.
Laswell looked down at you, a sadness in her eyes. Almost guilt, “[Name].” She said, grabbing your attention again, “-I’m pulling you off the team early.”
You froze, your eyes doubling in size. Maybe you misheard her, 141 was your family, she couldn't just pull you off. You still had a few more months with them! “What? Why?” You asked throatily.
She looked at you incredulously, “Because you almost died. Honestly, it was my fault in the beginning, I shouldn't have put you in the situation.” Your eyes narrowed, you tried to sit up but she placed a firm hand on your chest to keep you from doing so.
“Laswell, I’m fine. I don't need to be taken off 141, everyone in the world has probably had a near-death experience.” You protested, “-I want to keep being on the team, I know at first I was only doing this as a favor but I'm not anymore.”
Laswell looked at you, a bit stunned. Her eyes stared into yours, deciphering if you were really telling the truth. “Are you sure? I was only going to do it because I believed that is what’s in your best interest. But are you positive this is what you want? Even after what happened?”
You stared back at her, determined as ever. “I'm positive.”
There was a beat of silence before Laswell sighed, rubbing her face. “Okay,” she breathed. “But you're still not allowed to participate in anything until you're fully healed.” Your demeanor relaxed again, almost sinking into the mattress. It was a win, a small one, but a win nonetheless.
You looked back at her, “You said Price was here right?” You asked, trying your best to hide the eagerness in your tone.
She nodded, “Yes, he's outside. He's been coming with me to check on you.”
You could've run out of bed at that exact moment, from the first minute you'd woken up he was occupying half of your thoughts. “Could I talk to him…?” You asked, trying to disguise your desperation.
Laswell gave you a pointed look, obviously, she knew more than what she was letting on. “You have ten minutes, then I'm pulling him out so you can get more rest.”
You thanked her profusely, waiting in anticipation for John to walk through the door. You shimmied up into a sitting position, trying not to irritate the stitches in your side. After a minute, your captain walked through the door. His hair was a bit tousled, and his beard had been trimmed, but there were large bags under his blue eyes. Clad in an army-green cotton shirt with jeans. He was a sight for sore eyes that was for sure.
After a minute of staring he bolted across the room, enveloping you in a tight embrace. His hand holding the back of your head to his chest and his other arm wrapped around your back. You weakly tried to hug him back, inhaling his scent.
“You have no idea how worried I was.” He breathed, pulling away to get a good look at your face. His hands cupped your jaw like a precious jewel. You smiled, laughing to the best of your ability.
“Well, I'm alive. That's saying something.” You breathed, taking him in. You’d barely spent any time away from him, yet you missed him, you needed his presence like you needed air. “Nobody can kill me that easy, not even Shepard.”
He looked at you, unimpressed by your attitude, “I wouldn't boast your level of confidence for someone in a hospital bed.” He deadpanned. You simply waved him off, but a question popped into your mind before you could say anything.
“Hey, what was Shepherd doing there anyway? I know you mentioned him earlier but I still don't understand why he was involved.” You asked, making him sigh.
John rubbed his neck, leaning back a little from his position. “If I'm being honest? I don't know either, I had a feeling he would be there but I wasn't positive. My best guess would be that he probably got involved with Markov's goons after he went rogue. After they must've teamed with underground gangs to keep tabs on what the CIA was up to.” He looked back at you, “A few people from the inside still had communication with him, that was most likely how we got the tip-off that he was in Urzik.”
You hummed, mostly glad you could put Urzik behind you. It was over and that was all that mattered, “So what happens now?” You asked.
Price raised an eyebrow, “What do you mean?”
“What happens now that you caught him?” You clarified. Staring at him curious.
John shrugged, his thumb brushing against your cheek. “Well Shepherd is dead, he died during the altercation back in Riyzabbi. As for the team, we go back to normal. A few people who had relations with Shepherd are being tried in international court for unauthorized communication with enemies. But that's it, as far as I know.”
You hummed, letting your eyes flutter shut. Basking in the feel of his thumb against your skin, “Mm, and us…?” You asked, feeling a bit brave.
You felt him halt, “Well, you obviously know we can't exactly be public about this.” You opened your eyes back up to him, “-But, I don't think I can really deny what I feel for you.”
Your lips curled into a warm smile, one that seemed to say ‘I love you.’ John traced the pad of his thumb over your bottom lip, ‘I love you’ the gesture said.
“I love you.” You said, unable to hold yourself back from uttering the words any longer.
John smiled, “I love you too.”
Pulling you in for a chaste kiss, you smiled against his lips. Your nose brushed his, his eyelashes tickling your skin.
You were going to be just fine.
.・゜゜・ ・゜゜・..・゜゜・ ・゜゜・.
Hey, don't go!
Okay first things first, I want to say a HUGE thank you to everyone who liked, commented, reposted, or send me kind messages on my last post. I never thought I would reach 1,000 likes but you guys work miracles! It literally means the world to me.
Second, so sorry for the long wait. I know it was awhile but I’m balancing my classes, social life, and my writing so it gets hectic sometimes. But I appreciate you for having patience in me, I want to ask if you would be so kind as to like, repost, or leave a comment! It really helps, more than you know.
Lastly, you definitely haven’t seen the last of me yet. There is more content coming! It might take a bit but I am working hard to please you ;) and with that I hope you enjoyed Captains Girl Part II, I love you all! Toodles ଘ(੭*ˊᵕˋ)੭* ̀ˋ 💕
.・゜゜・ ・゜゜・..・゜゜・ ・゜゜・.
Taglist
@rafaelacallinybbay @nellabear @z03ch4n @evashi @freshlemontea @fanfin-glutton @achbbys000 @glitteryarcadefart @lveegsoi @hippopotamusdreamer @matixity @eternallyvenus @simplyymee98 @pinkfqiry @fraserbraw @gibbsgirl7 @blackhawkfanatic @thecursebreaker @scaryplanetdestroyer @spicyspicyliving @locker-130 @moranguito0 @whos-fran @whisperwispxx @slut-lmao @thriving-n-jiving @nexthyperfix @juliat398 @ninaak @sleepyghxul @ravenmoore14 @angelicccdesire
So sorry if you weren’t tagged and you wanted to be, some of the usernames weren’t showing up!
.・゜゜・ ・゜゜・..・゜゜・ ・゜゜・.
Part I of… Captains Girl: ˏˋ°•*⁀➷
Thank you
.・゜゜・ ・゜゜・..・゜゜・ ・゜゜・.
#call of duty#cod mw2#fictional men#smut#cod smut#enemies to lovers#military#fanfic#ghost call of duty#fandom#captain john price#john price#captain price#john price x reader#slow burn#kyle gaz garrick#simon riley#john soap mactavish#cod fic#cod fanfic#enemies to friends to lovers#part two#konig cod#new post#konig call of duty
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The Archive of Smite
This page belongs to the writer named Smite. He wrote fics starting in September of 2021 up until April 2024. In these 2,5 years, over 8.000 people followed him to read some of the craziest k-pop girl group smut out there. Almost 150 stories of sex in all kinds of positions, for many reasons, all over the world (and in outerspace), with too many kinks to count.
"When I started, I kinda wanted to become the best. I wanted my favorite writers at the time - Levi, Peach, Sins, and many more - to know that I could write as good as they can. I wanted to go wilder and crazier."
Smite, though ambitious, was also stupid and naive. At roughly the same time he started writing, two other community legends began their careers. IZ and Kaede crushed everything in their sight, especially the former becoming an absolute legend.
"Writing was fun. At times, it was escapism from everyday worries. At other times, it was fulfillment of fantasies I could never reach. Mostly though, it was just horny. BFH that just became words. If you go through my Masterlist, you might see which idols had some random heights or were just... Always on my hot list."
Smite never really stopped writing, not for long stretches that is. It didn't really occur to him that there might be a sudden, drastic reason to stop. He considered doing so anyways. Something about writing porn about irl people without them knowing or wanting - needless to say, it is an odd hobby. Nevertheless, he enjoyed it amd the community it brought with it.
"I fucking love these guys. So many hilarious peoplefrom all over the world. One became like my best friend, a rock during my emotional struggles. Another was my boyfriend for a short time. Man, I screwed up with him kekw. There are too many to mention. I've had long talks with some, others just came by and listened to me mald or something. I love you all, some of you I consider true friends - part of my soul - and I feel connected, even if you are thousands of miles away."
2024 started stressful for Smite. The pressure of Uni started to collapse on him. Even the thought of big kpop concerts wasn't enough to cheer him up. Luckily though, there was this girl. Sweet, kind, caring and in the same position. Soon, he had found something that seemed impossible. She was in love with him and he in love with her. And when everything unraveled.
"I stopped writing. I burried my drafts. I finished only one story and released it way later. I'm sorry I didn't announce it properly, but I just felt that this smut writing career was over. I don't regret it - I gained something beautiful I want to keep for the rest of my life. She is at least as pretty as Minju, so I call that the biggest win imaginable lol."
So no more smuts from Smite?
"99% no"
No more fanfictions/girl group stories in general?
"Eh, 80% no. Still some unfinished angst that I would love y'all to read tho"
Will you ever reach those 150 fics?
"We will see. In this count there are fics with less than 1000 words. I might just sneeze and finish it kekw"
Any fic you regret not writing?
"Not really? Maybe a proper ending for Starship: Horizon? Or yet another Minju fic? Futa stuff? Gaeul angst x female reader? Or how about a fic with 69 different idols at once? Who but me would dare to write something so stupid?"
Do you think you reached your initial goal?
"Do I consider myself the GOAT? No. That title belongs to either Peach, Levi or IZ. But I know that of my now 8.700 followers some consider me their favorite writer. I'm flattered and thank you very much for reading amd enjoying my work."
Now for the most important question: does this post mean you are finally leaving the community behind for good? Is this your last hoorah?
"..."
"Never."
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Buck could fill a small bakery with the amount he's baked in the past few weeks. He cleaned out the flour shelf at his local corner market, used a coop's worth of eggs, pushed his mixer to the limit, and had his oven working near constantly. Every neighbor on his floor and everyone he's passed in the lobby has had a loaf of some kind left on their doorstep or politely shoved into their hands. Everyone at the station is begging him not to overload them on anymore sugar - they'll take the carb-loaded meals he makes at work but avoid Buck the moment he enters the bay doors with a basket of saran-wrapped sweet bakes.
The worst part is that it's not even working anymore. It never really distracted him enough to not want to call Tommy, just put his hands and head to use for an hour or two at a time so that he couldn't text or call.
But now there's nothing left to bake with. And Eddie is looking at houses in El Paso. And everyone has family to go home to, except for Buck. And every reason he has for not being the one to reach out first goes out the window.
After a few rings, Tommy answers with a questioning: "-Buck?" and it's a gutpunch he doesn't need today but he's already feeling like shit so the pain just gets absorbed into the rest of it.
"H-hey, Tommy." It feels good to say his name under- well, not better circumstances than addressing his broken heart, but something with a bit of tentative hope at least.
And it's good to hear his voice. The voicemails and audio notes and videos from their time together have soothed him and tormented him at different times, but hearing Tommy respond sends a pang of longing through him.
"Um. I-I, uh."
"Are you okay?"
A bitter sound trips its way out of Buck's mouth. "No. No, I-I'm not okay."
"Are you hurt?"
The urgency in Tommy's voice thrills him; he still cares. But Buck doesn't want to misrepresent himself, doesn't want to trick Tommy into caring about what he's going through.
"Guess that depends."
"On what?"
"What kinda hurt you mean."
There's an inhale across the line. "What can I do?"
Tears prick at the corners of Buck's eyes. "I just- need someone to talk to." He doesn't say: even though we're not together anymore, can we still be friends? because even though he's missed Tommy being in his life, he doesn't know if he could be just friends.
"Okay." Buck hears some rustling in the background, footsteps, background noise receding. "I'm here. Talk to me."
Tommy wants to hear what Buck has to say, he always did. So Buck talks. He tells Tommy about Eddie moving away, and Tommy listens. And when it gets too much he tells Tommy about a new niece or nephew of his on the way, and Tommy offers his sincere congratulations. And then he tells Tommy about his baking coping mechanism and Tommy quiets.
So much so that Buck checks to see if the call dropped.
"I'm on my fifth engine," Tommy admit. "I keep taking them apart and putting them back together until they work better than before. But everytime I was done I had to start again, fix another broken thing, because I couldn't fix.."
Buck takes an unsteady breath. Us. "Me."
"No," Tommy says emphatically. "I couldn't fix me. Too broken to be good enough for you."
It's a heartwrenching confession, but Buck feels a smile beneath the tears sneaking down his face. "You don't think I'm broken? Nobody stays for me, Tommy. At some point I gotta realize I'm just not someone people wanna stick around for in the long run."
"Evan.."
Buck breezes over the sound of his name in Tommy's mouth, can't dwell on how good it feels because it won't last. "Guess neither of us are forever guys, huh." His heart, bruised and battered, bleeds a little more. The tears stream freely now. He sniffles, but manages to steady his voice as he says: "I loved you. That was real."
Tommy's breath hitches. "I was a coward."
Buck nods. Cries some more. They're both fucked up.
Tommy hesitates, but then: "I'm off-shift soon. We could.."
He leaves it hanging. There's so many ways Buck could finish that sentence, most of them unbearably hopeful. He doesn't want to stay in his empty apartment anymore. "Yours?" His voice is a little wet. "Maybe I could help you with that engine."
Tommy's breath of amusement is a balm to Buck's aching heart. "You know something about vintage cars I don't?" It's teasing, and gentle, and Buck has missed this.
"Maybe. Maybe trying to do it alone is the problem."
Another breath of laughter, followed by resignation in Tommy's voice. "Yeah. Maybe you're right."
Buck listens to him breathe for a moment: in, out, in..
"I'll meet you at mine."
Buck's poor heart beats a little stronger.
*
It was more than an hour later, of battling crosstown traffic and then letting himself into Tommy's house because Tommy had explicitly told him to use the spare key. They never gotten to the point of swapping keys. That probably should've been a step they didn't skip over. Buck's too-long legs had skipped too many for Tommy's comfort.
He pushes all thoughts of that aside. He's not perfect, he's too much, but Tommy agreed to see him. Tommy wants.. he's not sure.
Buck stands in the little living room, surveying Tommy's space while his mind spirals, heart yoyo-ing between hope and hopelessness. He doesn't know how much time passes when the front door opens and Tommy appears in the entryway.
He looks good. Tired, if the dark circles under his eyes are anything to go by, but good. His hair is a little longer all over, and it suits him. Buck wants to tell him as much but he can't seem to say anything.
Then Tommy says, "Hey," soft and concerned and fond, a sad smile at the corners of his eyes.
And Buck's tears threaten back into his own. "Hey." His voice is watery and brittle.
Tommy's there in three strides, gathering Buck into his arms, and Buck lets himself be wrapped in an embrace. Winds his arms around Tommy and presses into his solid warmth. Breathes him in as the tears come.
He feels safe. Seen. His heart cradled in care the way his body is cradled in Tommy's arms.
Buck takes a deep, steadying inhale of Tommy's scent and pulls back enough to look him in the face. His hands loose their grip at Tommy's shirt, smoothing to palm him through the cotton.
"About that engine.."
Tommy's smile is wide enough to crinkle his eyes in that way Buck loves, with joy etched in the creases.
"I wanna help you, if you'll let me. We could make it work. Together."
Tommy's eyes glisten. His smile breaks into a grin. "I'd like to try that."
buck probably called tommy every chance he got when they were together. driving home from work and stuck in traffic, it’s time to call tommy and tell him about his shift. late night in bed and he’s struggling to fall asleep without him, tommy’s soft voice will lull him to sleep from the other side of the phone. both on shift and the calls had been particularly slow, he will go and sit on the roof with tommy on loud speaker and they will just talk about anything and everything.
and when buck finds out that eddie is thinking about moving back to texas, tommy is the only person who he wants to talk to about it. so he finally gives in and calls. and of course, tommy will answer.
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hi my friends! hope you're all doing well. just wanted to come on here and share a little updates w you guys (if you're still here lol)
i guess it's been like a month n a half since i formally went on hiatus, and it's been nice! i got kinda sick for a little bit lmfaooo which was tough to manage w school, but i'm better now
although i took time away from my blog, i still delved in writing here n there. i haven't written anything for kickoff since tbh i'm in such a slump w it. but i still have big plans for stuff that happens after ch13, so hopefully i can just push through this next chapter and get to a better place. thanks so much to anyone that is still interested in the story, it means a lot to me. i know i'm so slow w updates and the story has been going on for almost a year now, but the continued support is so sweet! even though i didn't work on writing it these past one n a half months, i still really love it and plan to finish it.
i'm not sure if many people remember that i had this sort of "apocalypse" gojo x reader au about an asteroid being set to hit the earth in three days, and reader n gojo are ex lovers n the impending end of the world makes them break no-contact...yeah i finished writing the first chapter for it and i really love it so far! it's like set in new york which is really fun haha i love stories where new york is kind of its own "character" if that makes sense...it will definitely be a limited series w only 4 chapters or so, but i kinda wanna finish all 4 chapters before i start posting it bc i don't want it to be a drawn out series in terms of posting since i think it'd be best enjoyed in frequent succession if that makes sense
as for ihm, i think i wrote the most for ihm during my hiatus. i finished three chapters for it, but they are shorter chapters (around 3-4k words). i kinda realized one of my biggest reasons for burnout w my fics were the reaaaaallly long chapters...like didn't i have a 22k chapter for kickoff or sumn lol. idk i can't remember. but anyways, yeah the mindset behind the longer chapters was bc i liked each chapter to kinda have its own conflict, build up, tension then resolution in a sense. but it was exhausting to write that way tbh lol. so i think moving forward, for ihm, i will have shorter chapters. i just don't wanna think to much about things anymore, and write from my heart, bc i have a lot of things planned for ihm, and among the criticism i've received for my writing choices vs my own vision for the story, i've realized during my hiatus that the only way i can finish ihm, or any of my storeis for that matter, is if i just.........stop giving a fuck about it. lol idk if that sounds strange to say, but like, i don't want to over-edit anything. i don't want to think too much about redundancy. i don't want to flower things up or cut stuff out. i'm at the point where imma just write a first draft, check for grammarly errors, and then post it. i guess the reason i'm sharing this is because idk if this means that people may enjoy my writing less since i will admittedly be spending much less time on it than i did before, but tbh i realized i find the most joy while i'm writing, and not while i'm editing. so i want to spend as little time on the latter as possible, and if that changes the quality of my work, then so be it.
anyways, hmm as for hiatus. i guess i'm off hiatus now? i really enjoyed being off of tumblr tbh this app has a lot of questionable content at times (esp in jjk community) and it also did wonders for my studying bc i wasn't spending time doomscrolling or shit posting anymore lmfaooo. but as for writing in particular, i think i will start to post ihm again exclusively. i can't say anything about kickoff or my other projects, but i feel comfortable to start posting ihm again.
sorry, i know that i have kept my replies and ask box off for a long time. but i will open them again once i start posting chapters because i really miss interacting with you guys.
anywho, these are my updates lol i'm like not sure how many of my readers are still here or which ones have moved on but that's ok, i'm grateful to anyone n everyone. hope to see you all soon again!
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The Boy Next Door: Chapter Four
MASTERLIST ✨ harmshake's masterlist ✨ msbigredmachine's masterlist
Word Count: 8.1k
Warnings: 18+, NSFW, language, angst, violence, smut
Poster made by me. Credit to the owners of the other pics and gifs.
The first thing Ivy felt as she stirred awake was a dull, satisfying ache between her thighs. Next was the naked, muscular body enveloping her from behind, full lips brushing her shoulder. Twisting her head, she found his handsome face peering down at her, his crinkled eyes soft and his voice softer against her skin.
"Morning, baby girl," Roman murmured, muscular arms tightening around her, “How ya feeling? You sleep good?”
Gingerly, she shifted around to face him, noting how he instinctively moved his body closer to hers, her loins clenching at the feel of his flaccid yet impressive length pressed against her stomach. “I did…after you let me,” she replied, relieved to find that the feeling in her legs had returned and her voice was still intact. “Don’t tell me you’ve been watching me sleep,” she giggled.
“I plead the fifth. You’re too beautiful not to watch, sweetheart,” he chuckled, sliding his hand down her bare back to grip her ass as his face nuzzled the crook of her neck. His touch sparked memories of their wild night; the havoc his hands and mouth and his stunning weapon of a dick wrecked on her body, his voice deep and rough and authoritative as it coaxed her through literal waves of unforgettable pleasure that had him changing his Egyptian cotton bedding afterwards:
“Your pussy feels so good wrapped around my dick…ffuuck, Ivy…”
“I love the way you moan for me, baby girl, you sound so fuckin’ sexy…”
“Haha, look at you shakin’ and leakin’, fucking up my sheets…It feels good when I'm deep like this, right, baby?”
“Relax your throat so you can take more of my dick…yeah, just like that, mmm…”
“C'mon sweetheart, let Daddy make you come on this dick one more time…”
Her eyes fluttered shut, a content sigh leaving her as Roman gently kissed her lips and rubbed his hand up and down her back. “I wanna make you breakfast…whenever we get up, of course,” he said, looking down tenderly at her features. She looked so gorgeous in his arms, her hair tousled from sex and sleep, her body soft and warm. She belonged right here with him and if he had his way, she’d never leave his bed.
As much as she longed to spend her day like this, one glance at the clock on the wall advised otherwise. "Sadly, I gotta go. Zaia and Duchess will be home soon.” Also, she would very much rather not have Gemini find her here and start another lecture like she was her damn mother.
“You can shower here to save time, get cleaned up…We did…a lot, last night,” Roman grinned, mischief dancing in his warm brown eyes.
Blushing, Ivy rubbed her nose on his chest, breathing in his scent, “We did, and my body is feeling all of it right now.”
His brows furrowed with concern. “I wasn’t too rough, was I?”
“Not at all. And either way, I wanted it.” Easing herself upright, she glanced around the room, getting a good look at her surroundings for the first time considering how…occupied they were all night. “My dress is laying somewhere and I know the zipper’s busted, no thanks to a certain someone.”
“My bad. I’ll buy you a new one. I got a spare dress shirt you can wear,” Roman offered, letting her wiggle out of his arms and the cocoon of his bed to head to his bathroom, his gaze fixated on her naked glory all the way.
His shower was spacious, the water was warm and his sandalwood body wash was gentle on her deep brown skin. Yet it still couldn’t compare to the heat that filled her body thinking about their antics last night. The line had finally been crossed. Weeks of sexual tension had given way to giving in to her sexy-as-fuck next door neighbor. Cliché in the best and worst way. The pragmatic side of her was keen to overanalyze her actions, to pass it off as scratching an itch and be done with it to be never revisited again. The other part of her, the grieving, lonely young woman, had never felt this good, never felt as wanted and desired as Roman made her feel, and she wanted more. Needed more. For her pleasure. For her wellbeing. She would deal with the emotions when she was ready to cross that bridge. If ever.
Lost in her thoughts, she did not pick up on Roman joining her in the shower until his arms circled her waist. His long hair tickled her skin as he suckled the base of her neck, his mouth widening over the sensitive spot he'd become acquainted with, big hands roaming her body with purpose. As he turned her around, her eyes naturally fell to the shaft dangling menacingly between his tree trunk-like thighs. Even semi-erect, he was intimidating as hell. But even more intimidating was the predatory look in his eyes as he invaded her space with his big strong body, the swish of his tongue making her pussy quiver as she was reminded of how he’d worked it on her and in her until she saw stars…
The memory made her knees weak, and they just about gave way entirely when he smashed his lips to hers. His chest mashed against her hardened nipples, his fingertips grazing one before curling around her throat, soft groans exhaled in unison as the now familiar heat sizzled between them. They delved into each other’s mouths, lapping and sucking sloppily, heads twisting from side to side as he kicked her feet wider apart and grinded his erection against her mound, sending a fresh flood of wetness that had nothing to do with the running water.
“I’m gonna be late,” Ivy breathed out, an absurd statement considering that her home was literally across the street. Roman thought so too, easily dismissing her half-hearted protest with a laugh as he lifted her up against the marble wall.
“I’ll make it worth your while,” he groaned, silencing her with another heated kiss, keeping her trapped between the solid wall and his equally solid muscles. Her shaky moans were his oxygen as he grasped his dick and pushed it inside her, letting out one of his own as her slick heat welcomed him. He reveled in the stunned look on her face, her jaw dropping as her pussy stretched open for him, compelling him to drive into her with hard yet measured thrusts of his hips. His haughty smirk was wide as she shuddered from pleasure, her nails scraping his broad shoulders, her thighs tightening around his waist pulling him deeper into her.
“Ssshiiit, Roman…”
“That’s right, baby, call out my name while I pound this sweet pussy…”
His arm latched protectively around her waist as he walked her to his front door. As they approached the foyer, Ivy looked up at him, her heart thudding from his smoldering gaze that always seemed to reach the depths of her soul.
“Thank you for last night…for dinner, for the dick…It was amazing,” she whispered, pushing a stray lock of his hair back into his neat ponytail.
As her hand dropped to his chest, Roman realized he couldn't let her leave without one more kiss. Caressing her chin between his long fingers, he molded his lips to hers, savoring the taste of her, ensuring to slip her some tongue before pulling back.
“Baby, you don’t ever have to thank me. I got you. If you or Zaia need anything, let me know. If you need to talk…or fuck…” he added slyly, Ivy gasping into his chest as he squeezed her ass, “Or both…just ask. I don’t care what time it is. Call me and I’ll be there,” he promised.
One of the perks of mutual attraction was the insane chemistry between the two parties. Having lacked this for years had almost made Ivy forget how good it felt to want and be wanted. How it felt for just one look to make her heart pound and set her body on fire. For her senses to be awakened with one touch. The butterflies, the schoolgirl-like giddiness…Roman reignited all of that in her in just a matter of weeks.
Having her all to himself seemed to unleash something in him too. Unearthed a sexual spontaneity and adventure that Ivy hadn’t experienced since her college days. Nowhere was too risky and no position was off limits; Perched on the sink in the tiny restroom of a diner, her moans hushed and his thrusts deep. On a deck chair by his pool, her legs on his shoulders, leaving her a sopping, sobbing mess. On all fours in the backseat of his Range Rover in the hospital’s parking garage, the fear of getting caught evaporating with each luscious plunging stroke inside her. Her pussy was his for the taking. Sex with him was so intense and breathtaking that she couldn’t help but wonder where he’d been her whole life.
“So are y’all dating now?”
Startled, Ivy glanced up from her phone so fast, whiplash was in her near future. She cast a nervous glance around the spa's relaxation lounge. It was empty and quiet save for the serene background music and the soothing trickle of a water fountain nearby. But for all Ivy cared, Gemini had uttered the question with a megaphone. "Do you have to be so loud?" she yell-whispered, quickly putting her phone away.
Picking up her complimentary glass of champagne, Gemini shrugged nonchalantly. "What? I'm just asking a question. You’re going on dates. You’re fucking, and the dick is obviously top tier cuz look how big your smile is from just texting him. And the feeling’s mutual, cuz your pussy got that man paying for your hair, your nails and this spa session.”
“Oh my god,” Ivy groaned, the clay mask on her face preventing her from burying her head in her fluffy white bathrobe from sheer embarrassment.
Ignoring her reaction, Gemini leaned back in her lounge chair to observe her best friend. “Look, Ivy. I’m glad you’re getting your back broke the way you deserve, girl. I really am. But I still can’t help but think you’re moving really fast with Roman.”
On closer introspection, Ivy would agree. From the outside looking in, she was letting another man slot into the vacancy Angelo had opened up with his passing. But no one knew her life, especially not his mother Gloria, who still had nothing nice to say about her or Roman since confronting them at her son’s funeral. If only Ivy gave a shit. The woman turned a blind eye to everything her son put her through, thus, her opinions didn’t matter. No one was going to dictate how she grieved or moved on or how to raise her daughter and that was that.
And it wasn’t like she was moving on with Roman. She just felt so…connected to him. Long before they became two bereaved souls that lost their life partners in tragic circumstances. Plus, it wasn’t even all about the sex. He tapped into her desire for comfort and companionship that had eluded her since her relationship with Angelo collapsed. And unlike her ex, Roman appreciated her, and it was evident in the way he treated her. Making her laugh when she was having a tough day. Checking in on her regularly. Talking with her for hours and listening to her. She liked listening to him too; the stories he shared about growing up in Pensacola, Florida, the way his eyes lit up discussing his family with so much love and adoration. And then there were his other little thoughtful gestures; the care packages with soothing teas, bath salts, scented soaps and candles. The playlist of songs that “remind me of you” as he had named it on Spotify. Bouquets of flowers delivered to her workplace that had her fellow nurses ooh-ing and ahh-ing, not excluding her boss, Lilian.
“Whoever this man is, do not let him go,” the Head Nurse had advised as she admired the soft pink roses perched on Ivy's desk.
She didn’t plan to. Not when he was hitting every sweet spot she owned, literally and figuratively. Maybe Gemini was right. Maybe she was dickmatized. But she couldn’t really be blamed, could she? Roman was a smart, sexy man with a soft side and a protective nature that she found extremely appealing and was drawn to.
“You’ve zoned out on me again.” Gemini’s voice cut into her thoughts. “You are dickmatized, girl. The sex is that fire, huh?”
Yes! Ivy thought, a small smile on her face as she tried to articulate her feelings. “It’s not just that. He’s been…really good to me, Gem,” she confessed, sipping pensively on her mimosa. “I feel like grief has kinda brought us together in a good way. Like it was meant to happen like this. Yeah, he’s…passionate. And I know you’re worried about his temper. But he’s been so gentle with me. He’s attentive. Affectionate. He…cares. And it feels good. Really good,” she went on, her eyes fixed imploringly on her best friend as though trying to plead her case.
Gemini was silent as she took in Ivy’s assessment, the skepticism on her pretty features slowly melting into sympathy. “Well, in your defense, you do look…happy,” she admitted, “Happier than I’ve ever seen you with Angelo or anyone else. But I won’t stop begging you to keep your eyes open, babe. It won’t speak well of me as your friend if I don’t.” She was yet to find anything on Roman other than the fact that he had no social media presence of any kind. Odd as that was, it wasn’t a crime. Gemini truly wanted to believe she was overreacting about him, but her gut pushed her to keep looking just to make sure, for Ivy’s sake at least. And she would. Ivy didn’t need to know. If there was indeed nothing, she would let it go and forget all about it. “Angelo just passed. Your emotions are elevated. It’s okay to take things slow and not rebound so quick.”
Ivy pleaded the fifth on that. He was a welcome distraction from losing Angelo. A reprieve from her other reality of coming home and finding traces of her child’s father around the house. He never got round to taking all of his belongings with him when she kicked him out for good, which meant she was still kicking up the occasional item of his here and there that brought fresh waves of sadness each time.
But no one was taking his death harder than Zaia, who had essentially abandoned her bedroom for her mother’s. More heartbreakingly, she was crying in her sleep almost every night, calling out for her daddy. Ivy was worried and planned to book an appointment with her pediatrician, Dr. Zayn.
Again, Roman came to her rescue, arranging movie nights with her daughter, the two of them cuddling up on her couch and bonding over buttered popcorn and Disney’s iconic characters. As Halloween approached, Roman joined them in decorating not just her yard but his own as well, creating a festive atmosphere that brought joy to their little community. He even took them on an outing to Dave & Buster's, where his playful and attentive interaction with Zaia stood out. It was quite heartwarming how hands-on he was with her little girl; he would make a great father someday.
Ivy knew he was only trying to help; in no way did she expect him to replace Angelo because he never could. No one could. That was Zaia’s daddy, no matter what. And though Ivy acknowledged that she may like Roman a little more than the boundaries of mere physical attraction permitted, she knew better than to let those feelings cloud her judgment when it came to her baby. Angelo would always be a part of her life. She hadn't completely shoved him all the way to the back of her mind, but at least he no longer dominated her every thought. It was getting better, and better was better than worse.
An attendant entered the ladies’ space and set a tray of assorted fruits on their table. Gemini snatched up a strawberry and dropped it into her drink. "Anyway, you're gonna be at my party, right?" she asked, “What are you wearing?”
Gemini’s annual Halloween party was a highlight of the social calendar year, and it made Ivy cringe to know she’d forgotten about it. “Fuck. I’ve been so busy with work and everything else that I haven’t thought about it. I only got Zaia sorted out for her trick-or-treat party. I’ll find something for myself this week.”
“Good. Can’t wait to see what you do this year. Your Storm cosplay last year was fire.” A long, tense beat crawled by before Gemini cleared her throat, her next words tentative and begrudging. “You can bring Loverboy along, if you want,” she grumbled.
Smiling, Ivy raised her champagne flute to her lips. “I’m sure he’d like that. I want you to get along with him. No more tiptoeing around another man in my life.” Sitting upright, she moved in for the kill. “And what about the man in yours anyway, huh? Officer Hayes, hmm? If you don’t focus on that fine ass man and leave me alone…”
Eyes wide, Gemini avoided her friend's teasing gaze. “Ion know whatchu talkin’ about.”
“Sure you don’t,” Ivy smirked.
Nobody threw a party quite like Gemini Beaufort. Her Halloween bashes were the stuff of legend, with an over-the-top grandeur that seemed to escalate with each passing year. By the time October’s final night arrived, the anticipation was palpable. Securing an invitation to her party was almost as difficult as getting into an elite club. Hosted in the grand, sweeping mansion that had been in her family for decades, attending a Beaufort party was a badge of honor in this town, an unspoken acknowledgment that you were now part of Hartford’s elite.
Hand in hand, Roman and Ivy climbed the winding stone steps. The dark silhouette of the house framed the towering trees draped in cobwebs. Skeletons hung from the eaves, their bony hands outstretched in eerie welcome, while carved, glowing pumpkins lined the path like sentinels guarding the front door. Fog rolled across the ground, and a ghostly figure swayed in the breeze, making the mansion feel like something out of a haunted tale.
As they neared the entrance, Ivy noticed Roman fidgeting with his costume. He was dressed as Aquaman, the golden, two-piece spandex clinging to his chiseled body like a second skin, his trident gleaming in his hand. But despite the impressive Jason Momoa-esque look, Roman seemed uncomfortable, adjusting the tight fabric around his torso. “You good, babe?” she questioned.
“I don’t know, Ivy,” he said, his voice tinged with frustration. “This thing is skintight. I feel…exposed. Like it’s showing everything.”
His nerves were a sharp contrast from Ivy’s, looking effortlessly stunning in her Clovers cheerleader uniform from Bring It On, the iconic green, yellow and gold ensemble accentuating her curves. She smiled softly at him, her eyes warming. “Well, it’s showing all the right things,” she joked, biting her lip when he frowned. “Relax. You look great. Like you just stepped off a movie set,” she reassured him.
Roman exhaled sharply, his gaze shifting toward the house where the party raged on inside. “It ain’t the outfit,” he admitted. “It’s more of the people, I think. I’m not…great with crowds.”
Ivy’s smile grew, her heart softening at his vulnerability. She had seen this side of him before—strong but uncertain. Needing assurance. “Remember how you stood by me at Angelo’s funeral? You defended me in a room full of strangers,” she reminded him. “Well, I’m gonna do the same for you tonight.” She stood on her tiptoes and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek. “You look sexy as hell, babe. You’ll be fine, because we’re in this together. And if all else fails, we’ll just drink the night away.”
At that, Roman’s posture relaxed, the tension eased. He smiled at her, his expression grateful. “You right. Thanks, baby.” He paused, the gratitude in his eyes shifting to something else as he looked her over. “You look beautiful, by the way. Really beautiful,” he drawled, licking his lips. “You sure we can’t go back home and have a party of our own?”
“Down, boy,” Ivy giggled, swatting his creeping hand away as she glanced toward the door. The brass knocker had been replaced with a creepy, oversized spider, its legs curled around the handle. With a deep breath, she stepped forward and grabbed it to knock.
The door swung open, the soft creak of the hinges drowned out by the thumping bass of music from inside. A wide smile lit up Gemini’s face as her eyes fell on Ivy, her jaw dropping as she took in her outfit.
“Ivy! Girl, you look incredible!” Gemini’s voice rang out with warmth, her own costume, a curvaceous Lola Bunny from Space Jam, hugging her voluptuous shape enticingly. The white crop top, matching shorts, and knee-high socks paired with her signature bunny ears made her look every bit like the cartoon character. “I’m so glad you made it!” She stepped forward, wrapping her arms around Ivy in a tight hug, the scent of lavender and cinnamon swirling between them.
“I wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Ivy grinned. “You woulda beat my ass anyway if I did.”
Gemini stepped back, eyes flicking over Ivy’s shoulder, her smile faltering at the towering figure behind her, his sharp features and easy smile that seemed just a little too practiced. He was dressed as Aquaman—predictable. Her eyes lowered to his hand on the small of Ivy’s back, possessiveness radiating from the man that the attorney was yet to warm up to. But she was quick to recover, plastering on a welcoming smile.
“Hi, Roman,” she said coolly, stepping aside to let them in.
“Hey, Gemini,” he replied smoothly, his voice cheery as he looked around. “Thanks for inviting me. You have a lovely home.”
“Thanks,” Gemini answered. “I’m glad you both could come. It’s gonna be a fun night.”
The entire space of the mansion’s grand foyer had been transformed, an intricate web of cobwebs draping the walls, bats dangling from the ceiling, and pumpkins carved with jagged smiles glowing from every corner. The scent of mulled cider and spiced pumpkin filled the air, the low hum of conversation and laughter drifting in from the next room. Before they parted ways, Gemini’s eyes met Ivy’s again with that disapproving look that Ivy was starting to tire of. In turn, her eyes narrowed, a subtle, silent warning. Roman, however, seemed oblivious to the tension, scanning the room with that same cautious gaze. Watching them slip further into the crowd, Gemini’s eyes lingered on the big man and suppressed a sigh, deciding to focus on the party. Tonight wasn’t about him. It was about having fun, celebrating with the people she cared about, and being a good host.
The vibrant energy soon took over, the lights, the laughter, and the familiar hum of a good time. Ivy showed Roman around, introducing him to other neighbors and a few other friends of hers, including local cops Officer Gable and Officer Hayes, the latter looking spectacular in his Killmonger armor. Dinner was a vibrant mix of the ordinary and the macabre. Alongside the classic chicken, beef, and vegetarian dishes, the buffet featured quirky options like graveyard chocolate pudding cups, bloody finger hot dogs and cheesy pizza skulls. The bar added a playful twist, serving drinks in boozy blood bags and Jell-O shot syringes, alongside cocktails inspired by iconic horror villains like Freddy Krueger, Michael Myers and Chucky.
At the table, conversation flowed freely, punctuated by the clinking of glasses and the occasional burst of laughter. Ivy sat sandwiched between Roman and Raquel, a paralegal at Gemini’s law firm. The hostess herself claimed the head seat, with Officer Hayes right next to her. Ivy noticed how Carmelo had stuck close to Gemini all evening. It wasn’t subtle, and Ivy was certain they were sleeping together. They were undeniably cute, even if Gemini would never admit it. Ivy smirked to herself, already planning how she’d tease her friend about it later.
She turned her attention to Roman, checking on him. He’d been quiet, not saying much, listening to other people’s chatter as he picked at his food. “How’s your food? Good?” she asked, eyeing up his half-eaten plate of shrimp fried rice and garlic butter salmon.
Roman nodded, leaning close to her, “It is. But I’d rather be eating something else cuz it looks so fucking good.”
Before she could ask him to clarify, he snuck his hand under the table to rest it on her leg, moving it along her inner thigh.
"Roman!" Ivy hissed, shocked at his boldness. Surely he wasn't going to try to do what she thought he wanted to do in the presence of all these people, dimmed lighting or not. Her eyes widened as Roman tugged her panties to the side, teasing her folds with his fingers, gathering the growing wetness.
At that exact moment, Raquel decided to steer the conversation to them, leaning forward on the dining table with a sly grin. “So, Nurse Jones, we see you’ve been scooped up by the handsome new neighbor over here,” she teased, her voice brimming with curiosity. “Tell us all about it. How did this beautiful union happen?”
Ivy opened her mouth to answer, but any attempt at forming a coherent thought was derailed by two thick, long fingers suddenly plunging into her, sending shockwaves all over her body. Grabbing his wrist under the table, she struggled to keep a straight face, a sharp contrast from Roman as he stepped in smoothly. “It’s pretty straightforward, really. I came over to hers, asked to borrow some sugar, and she gave me a cookie recipe along with it. The rest, as they say, is history,” he announced, his voice warm and effortlessly charming.
The table erupted into a mix of laughter and ‘aww’s. Ivy’s flushed features were for a far less innocent reason than his sweet comment as she shot Roman another warning look. He merely raised an eyebrow as if daring her to lose her composure, his signature smirk firmly in place as his fingers pumped inside her, making her squirm in her seat as she fought to suppress her moans.
A clueless Raquel nearly spilled her wine as she clutched her stomach. “A cookie recipe! Classic! That’s so cute,” she exclaimed.
Carmelo chimed in next, his tone gentle but curious. “And Zaia? Has she taken to you?” His eyes flicked to Ivy, aware that her little girl had been the center of her world since day one.
Roman’s countenance shifted then, the playful air giving way to something softer, more sincere. “Zaia is the sweetest little girl,” he said, his voice unwavering. “She’s so smart, and she has her mama’s kind heart. I’m blessed to get to know her. Ivy’s an amazing mother. It’s been a tough year for me, and I’m so glad I’ve met them, and all of you as well. I can tell that this town will be good for me.”
The warmth emanating from him seemed genuine, and even Carmelo appeared won over. There were murmurs of approval around the table, heads nodding in silent agreement.
But not everyone was convinced. Gemini sat quietly, her glass of wine untouched, her sharp eyes flickering between Roman and Ivy. Unlike the others, she wasn’t laughing or nodding. Her arms were crossed loosely over her chest, her face a careful mask that betrayed nothing except a slight tension in her jaw.
As Roman continued to field questions and charm the room, she remained silent. Her piercing eyes took in every word, every gesture, every touch. Something about him just did not sit right with her. His words felt just a little too smooth, too charming, his timing just a little too perfect.
The others were too busy to notice Gemini’s quiet skepticism, but Ivy could feel it, even if she wasn’t looking her way. She could only imagine her indignation if she knew that Roman was currently fingering her under the table. She forced a smile as Raquel launched into another question, fighting the urge to scream as her orgasm loomed. But right as she made it to the brink of euphoria, Roman stopped, pulling his fingers out of her.
“We’ll finish this later,” he growled, kissing her cheek and patting her thigh, refocusing on his food like nothing happened.
Infuriating.
Intoxicating.
After dinner, the guests gathered in the cozy, candlelit den. The fire crackled warmly in the hearth, casting flickering shadows over the room. Lounging on plush armchairs and sprawling rugs, the drinks continued to flow and loosen people up more and more. Someone had started a risqué game of “Truth or Dare,” but Roman seemed uninterested in the group activity, his attention wholly fixed on Ivy.
Her seat was his lap, her laughter chiming through the room as someone recounted a particularly embarrassing dare. Roman’s arm remained draped possessively around her waist, his fingers idly tracing circles on her hip. His gaze, though lighthearted, was sharp and territorial, shooting silent warnings at anyone who dared look at Ivy for more than a fleeting moment. Most irritating of them all was Damian, a mutual friend of Gemini and Ivy’s whom Roman noticed had been eyeing her up all evening, seated next to them in a gaudy vampire rockstar getup as he made conversation with her. Then for some reason, he dared to address Roman himself, nodding in his direction. “Hey, great costume, man,” he complimented.
Plastering a plastic smile on his face, Roman leaned forwards, his tone deceptively casual as he responded loud enough for the entire room to hear, “Thanks man. Ya know, I almost didn’t bother with a costume this year. I considered dressing up as a homicidal maniac.” He paused, letting the room go still for a moment before adding with an airy laugh, “Ya know, cuz they look like anybody?”
The room’s energy froze for a beat, the humor landing awkwardly. A few people exchanged uneasy glances. Damian looked flabbergasted.
Roman clapped his hands together, his grin widening as if to erase the tension. “Come onnnn, relax, people! Lighten up! Anyway, I think I nailed the Aquaman look, right?”
Laughter rippled through the room, hesitant at first, but it grew louder when Roman flashed his megawatt smile and raised his drink. The moment passed, but Gemini wasn’t laughing. From her seat on Carmelo’s lap, she studied Roman with narrowed eyes, her suspicions too great to hold in any longer.
A little while later, as guests migrated to refill their glasses and raid the buffet table for more snacks, Gemini saw her chance. She waited until Roman wandered into the kitchen alone and followed him from a distance.
“Roman,” she said, her voice sharp and deliberate.
He turned, his smile immediate but calculated. “Gemini! What’s up? Great party-”
“What kinda creepy ass comment was that, huh? Homicidal maniac? Really? After everything that’s been going on in this town? Could you show your ass anymore out there?” she accused.
“I was just trying to be funny. Sure, it didn’t hit at first but I think I recovered. If my joke was perceived as offensive then I-”
“Cut the shit,” Gemini snapped, stepping closer. Her voice was low but firm, her eyes boring into his. “I’m a goddamn attorney, Roman. Your passive-aggressive bullshit don’t work on me. I see through it, and I see right through you. You’re not who you pretend you are. I can feel it. You’ve got Ivy and everybody else fooled, but I’m not buying it.”
Roman’s smile didn’t waver, but it shifted into something colder, crueler. He leaned casually against the counter, swirling the drink in his hand. “Ivy is a grown woman, Gem,” he said, his tone almost too calm. “A mother, with her own family. Something you don’t have, and with that attitude, you probably never will.”
Gemini’s composure faltered, just for a second, at the scathing jab. Roman caught the slip-up like a cat catching a canary, and his smile widened, his voice softening mockingly. “I’m sure Ivy can make her own decisions without her lawyer friend hovering around.” He took a step closer, his voice dropping. “I’ve tolerated your hostility long enough. But let me give you some friendly advice, sweetheart. You don’t wanna get on my bad side, ever. I promise you that.”
Before Gemini could retort, the sound of approaching footsteps made them both pause. Ivy appeared in the doorway, her brows furrowed in confusion as she took in the tense scene.
“What’s going on here?” she asked, her gaze darting between the two of them.
Gemini straightened, her tone as lighthearted as possible. “Just having a chat with your boyfriend.”
Roman immediately softened, his expression shifting into one of wounded innocence. “I think I’ve upset her somehow,” he said, his voice laced with regret. “I’m not sure what I did but whatever it is, I’m sorry, Gemini. That wasn’t my intention at all.”
Stunned by his complete 180, Gemini opened her mouth to respond, but Ivy got there first. “Gemini, can I talk to you for a second?” she spoke, more a demand than a request.
Roman stepped back, raising his hands in mock surrender. “I’ll leave you two to it,” he said smoothly, pressing a light kiss to Ivy’s cheek before slipping away.
As soon as he was gone, Ivy turned on Gemini, her eyes blazing. “What the fuck is your problem?!”
“My problem?” Gemini shot back. “I’m trying to protect you, Ivy! I don’t trust him, and you shouldn’t either!”
Ivy’s shoulders sagged slightly, exhaustion and grief creeping into her demeanor. “I don’t need this from you right now, Gem. I’m barely holding it together after Angelo, and Roman…Roman’s been there for me in a way no one else has.”
“Exactly!” Gemini said, her tone urgent. “Don’t you think it’s a little too convenient? He shows up out of nowhere, swoops in while you’re at your most vulnerable, and suddenly he’s everywhere in your life? Doesn’t that raise any red flags for you?”
Ivy’s jaw tightened. “I appreciate your concern, but I’m not Angelo. I’m not a case you need to solve, Gemini. I’m a grown ass woman and I can decide who I want in my life. Roman’s good to me and Zaia. That’s all that matters.”
Gemini stared at her, her frustration mounting. “You’re not seeing the whole picture, Ivy! Please, just—”
“Enough!” Ivy snapped, stamping her foot angrily. “You’re always looking for problems where there aren’t any! Roman’s done nothing but protect me and be there for me! Just cuz you don’t trust anyone doesn’t mean I'm the same!” She trailed off. Reeled her temper back in. Ignoring the hurt in her best friend's eyes, she addressed her with a clipped and cold tone. “I’m only gonna say this one time. Stop trying to interfere in my life. If you don’t, I might have to reevaluate our friendship.”
Gemini’s eyes widened. “And what does that mean?”
“Figure it out. You’re the one who knows everything,” Ivy bit back, her tone dripping with sarcasm.
“Over a nigga you just met?” Gemini shook her head in disbelief. “Wow, Ivy. Wow.”
Ivy stood her ground. “I said what I said. All I know is I can’t go on like this. This constant back and forth with you. I’ve made up my mind about Roman and clearly, so have you.” She shrugged. “The only difference is I don't care what you think anymore.”
Gemini swallowed the lump in her throat as Ivy turned and walked away, leaving her alone in the kitchen. She exhaled shakily, gripping the edge of the counter. Roman’s words kept echoing in her mind, chilling and deliberate.
You don’t wanna get on my bad side, ever.
Gemini wasn’t scared of his threats. But she was more certain than ever: Roman was hiding something. And she wasn’t going to stop until she found out what it was.
Ivy stormed out of the kitchen, her sneakers pounding against the hardwood floor. She pushed her emotions down, forcing herself to breathe evenly, to shake off the lingering sting of her gut-wrenching argument with Gemini. The music from the den grew louder as she approached, but it all felt like static compared to the turmoil in her chest.
Roman spotted her immediately. He was lounging against the wall near the fireplace, sipping from a glass of bourbon, his Aquaman costume catching the firelight. His sharp eyes tracked her as she neared him, his expression shifting into one of concern.
“Hey,” he said softly, setting his drink down. He reached for her hand, pulling her close. “You okay? What happened back there?”
Ivy avoided his questioning stare, her expression tight. “I don’t want to talk about it. I just…I want to leave.”
Roman frowned, tilting his head. “Leave? Why?”
“Because,” she said, her voice faltering, “I’m not in the mood anymore. Gemini…She thinks she knows everything! She’s just trying to protect me, but I can’t deal with it right now. I don’t want to ruin your night, Roman.”
“Ruin my night?” Roman chuckled, the sound low and warm. He cupped her face gently, his thumb brushing over her cheek. “Baby girl, don’t let her ruin your night. This is meant to be fun. You deserve a break…you’ve been through so much.”
“I know, but—”
“No buts,” he interrupted, firmly but kindly. “Stay. Forget about her. I’ll handle her if she steps out of line again, okay?”
Ivy hesitated, her eyes searching his face. Something about the way he looked at her—the unshakable confidence, the way he made her feel grounded—settled the tension in her chest. She nodded slowly. “Fine. Get me a drink. A strong one.”
Roman’s lips curled into a pleased smile. “Comin’ right up,” he said, kissing her softly before heading off to do as she asked.
Deeper into the night, the party reached a fever pitch. The music thumped louder, a sultry beat that made the air feel electric. Ivy, emboldened by her third cocktail, shepherded Roman to a corner, away from the makeshift dance floor in the center of the room. Backing up on him, her movements were fluid and teasing, her body swaying to the rhythm of Chris Brown and Davido’s “Sensational”. Her head tilted back, her laughter loud and uninhibited, her eyes locked seductively on Roman’s. He gripped her hips, pulling her flush against his crotch, biting his lip as she bent at the waist to grind on him, her ass gyrating obscenely against the thick bulge of his erection. A low groan slipped from her lips when he yanked her back upright, brushing her hair out of the way to nuzzle her neck, his mouth hot and greedy on her heated skin.
The other guests watched, some whispering to each other, some pretending not to notice. Ivy was putting on a show and she knew it. Her grief, her frustration, her lingering anger with Gemini—all of it melted away as she lost herself in the music and Roman’s presence. Turning around, she wound her arms around his neck and captured his mouth with hers, absorbing the alcohol lacing his tongue. His hands traveled underneath her little skirt, grabbing and squeezing her ass cheek in large handfuls, his body rocking with hers in time with the music.
Roman leaned in, his breath warm against her ear. “You’re full of surprises tonight, sweetheart,” he murmured, his tone heavy with amusement—and something darker.
Eyeing him through her long lashes, her hand trailed down his chest, her touch deliberate as she stroked his visible hard-on through the stretched fabric of his costume, loving the feel of him throbbing in her hand.
“I need you. Need your dick inside me,” she whispered to him, lust simmering in her brown eyes.
Sucking in a sharp breath, Roman cupped the nape of her neck, his lips brushing her ear. “Where’s Gemini’s bedroom?”
Ivy froze for a half-second, caught off guard by his question. She pulled back slightly to look at him, a curious smirk tugging at her lips. “Why?”
His grin was devilish, his voice low and conspiratorial. “Where better to fuck you than right under her nose? Let her hear just how much you need me.”
Ivy’s heart raced, a mix of exhilaration and nervousness and alcohol twisting in her stomach. She glanced around the room, the other guests oblivious to their conversation, and then back at Roman. He was watching her expectedly, intently, his darkened eyes filled with a dangerous kind of charm.
“You nasty motherfucker,” she slurred, her full lips curved into a wicked, excited grin.
Roman leaned in, crushing his mouth to hers, his kiss laced with carnal, tantalizing promise. “Only for you, baby girl.”
Without further hesitation, she grabbed his hand and dragged him off the dance floor. As they disappeared from view, the music continued to pulse, the party continuing without them.
They stumbled up the staircase, Roman watching her ass sway from side to side as she moved. He made an impatient sound and swiftly scooped her into his arms, carrying her the rest of the way up. Giggling drunkenly, Ivy tucked her face in the thick column of his neck, licking that one protruding vein that made her crazy for him. “You smell so good, handsome,” she purred, latching her mouth to his throat with an almost vampiric hunger, her clit pulsing in anticipation for the naughtiness about to transpire.
“Which door?” asked Roman.
“Last one on the right,” she murmured, wiggling out of his grasp and mildly surprised to find the door open as she turned the knob and dragged him inside. Roman looked around with a raised eyebrow at the spacious master bedroom, sleek and organized and fitting for an uppity bitch like Gemini. His gaze cut back to the sexy little MILF before him, her dark eyes glazed and stormy, her ample chest heaving in shallow breaths. He eagerly closed the gap between them, his hands finding her hips and yanking her to his chest. Cupping his bearded face, Ivy pulled him in, her mouth meeting his with heated eagerness. Roman maneuvered them to the bed and shoved her onto it face-first, his eyes blazing as he ogled her exposed derrière.
“So fucking sexy. The things I wanna do to you in this little ass skirt,” he murmured, his hands all over her ass, smacking the plump cheeks. “Come here, baby, let Daddy give you what you need.”
In what felt like record time, she was on her hands and knees on Gemini’s king bed, her back arched, panties tugged to the side, deep, powerful backshots making her scream Roman’s name into the comforter lest all the guests downstairs would find out exactly they were up to in here.
“You feel that dick, baby girl? You like that?” asked Roman. His body weight damn near had her face disappearing into the bed. Flat on her chest, ass in the air, barely able to keep her eyes open as he dug her out from behind, forcing his dick deeper into her with tantalizing rolls and snaps of his hips.
“Shit…I feel it, oh fuck!” Ivy cried, wanton, breathy pants punched out of her by his dizzying length and girth tunneling in and out of her, nudging against her g-spot, right where she wanted it. Fuck, he was so deep!
He liked that she couldn’t seem to control her noises because she was taking him so fucking well, his pelvis smacking loudly and lewdly against her ass, a mesmerizing sight. He grabbed the soft flesh, using his strong grip to rock her back and forth on his dick, making her meet his deep thrusts. Her pussy was so wet that it lathered the entirety of his cock, dripping down her inner thighs and onto the sheets. “Mm-hmm, make a mess on my big dick, baby. Getting fucked on your bestie’s bed like a nasty slut…You love this shit, don’t you,” he taunted her, wrapping his fist around her pigtails and using them as a steer, controlling her.
“Yes, I love it…unnh, fuck my pussy, baby, don’t stop!” She was definitely under a liquor spell that had her talking and acting reckless tonight. This was one of the few reasons she didn’t drink much. No way in her sober mind would she have agreed to desecrate her best friend’s bedroom like this.
But right now she didn’t want to think about Gemini or anything else except the feel of this hot, big man and his even bigger dick all up in her like it was now.
Sitting up straighter, Roman pulled out and flipped her roughly onto her back. Climbing into the bed, he yanked her closer to him and hoisted her shaky legs up on his shoulders. Ivy tried not to scream at the maddening, deliberately slow wind of his hips as he forged his way back inside her.
"Awww, right there," she whimpered, head thrown back, her mouth falling open in ecstasy, "Oh my god, your dick feels so good..."
Roman grunted, weaving his hands inside her top to massage her breasts. “Been wantin’ to fuck you all damn night.” He groaned as her walls clung to his dick, squeezing every inch as he maintained his pace, keeping up his relentless strokes inside her pussy. So wet, so warm and tight, a wonderful sensation. “Shit, this pussy too good. You’ve put a spell on me, baby girl. I can’t stop thinkin’ about you, day and night.” He bent down to lash his tongue inside her mouth, his eyes filled with a fire that matched the burning in hers.
“You belong to me,” he growled in a dark and possessive whisper, his fingers shifting downward to play with her pussy. “You’re mine. Your pussy is mine. Forever. You understand me?”
“Yes, baby,” Ivy moaned back to him, delirious, her body on fire, the flames fueled by his other hand gripping her throat, applying a little pressure as the bed shook and rattled under the strain of their coupling. Above her, Roman’s eyebrows knitted, his hold on her tightening as for a brief moment, his vision blurred, distorted, and suddenly, it was Gemini lying beneath him instead, her eyes wide and bulging with sheer terror, the light in them slowly fading away as he choked the life out of her.
The image, so vivid and palpable, made him fuck Ivy harder. Squeeze her neck tighter.
She was a moaning, mewling, soaked mess underneath him, her essence smeared all over both their lower regions. Overwhelmed by the thrill, the pleasure, the power of his deadly thrusts absolutely ruining her sweet spot. This was exactly how he wanted her, powerless and compliant to his will, and there was nothing she could do about it, nor did she want to. She looked into his eyes, his gorgeous face twisted in an erotic mix of concentration and pleasure. Her nails dug into his broad back, keeping him close. Body to body, skin on skin. So good; he felt so good on her, in her, and she was on the verge of explosion.
“I’m gonna come,” she whined, her breaths joining his in bursting expulsions of air as he pounded her into Gemini’s mattress. Her eyes rolled in the back of her head as she came apart, her body convulsing from the orgasm to end all orgasms, robbing her of all her senses. She was all nerves and sensation as Roman continued pumping into her at blistering speed, gasping and growling against her sweat-slick skin.
“Let me come in you,” he beseeched her with a sloppy, tongue-laden kiss, groaning at the feel of her rubbing the firm flesh of his backside, amplifying the already intense sensations coursing through his massive frame.
"Come in me, Roman. I want all your cum," she encouraged, her fingers tangling in his long locks to anchor him to her, inhaling his sweat-slick, sweet scent. A feeling like this could never be replicated—this animalistic passion, this wild and primal need for each other. Every touch, every stroke was magic, a fountain of bliss and ecstasy that Ivy was drunk off of and she would be for the foreseeable future.
A jumble of expletives along with Ivy’s name tumbled from Roman’s lips as he came hard, his hips jerking, releasing all he had inside her. He remained on top of her when his orgasm ebbed away, shifting so that her legs slid from his shoulders and settled around his waist. He kissed her softly and relished in her satisfied sighs and the sensual brushes of their lips together. Sitting back on his heels, he studied her with a wipe of his brow, biting his bottom lip cheekily before they both burst into soft laughter as the gravity of their misdeeds sank in.
“Let’s take this party home, beautiful,” he breathed, slapping her backside lightly before helping her out of the bed. “Best believe I ain’t done with your fine ass.”
Thank goodness that Zaia was having a sleepover. “Sounds good to me, babe,” Ivy concurred as they adjusted each other's clothes before sneaking out of the room, not bothering to straighten the rumpled sheets and pillows scattered on the bed.
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☆-txt smut reaction-☆
☆-First time squirting
Warnings/genre:: oral, sex toys, fingering, mentions of porn
Pairing:: ot5!txt x fem!reader
A/N:: I'm trying to post a variety of different groups but man I'm struggling. The parasites in me want to post skz
Soobin
He didn't really have any expectations for what he was doing, all he knew is that everytime he curled his fingers against that spongy spot and flicked your clit with his tongue you'd moan louder and louder. Soobins fingers never haulted their assault as he brought his lips around your clit, sucking on the sensitive bud, when your moans suddenly increased into a darn near scream, but your voice was filled with undeniable pleasure.
You grab his head forcibly and push his head into your slit. You tried to form words to express what you were feeling inside your weak and swollen pussy but you couldn't, the pleasure took control of every aspect of your body all the way through to your throat. "Cumming!" Is all you could cry out before your juices doused Soobins face and neck. Your body then falls limp, completely loose. Soobin pulls back and licks his lips.
"Baby..." he looks up at you, trying to hide his grin of pride. "I think you just squirted," he tells you and you pick your head up. You were so caught up in all the sensations that you didn't notice the waterlike liquid splattered across the floor and Soobins face.
"Oh my god," is all you can manage to say between heavy breaths. "Can you get me some water?" You pant out and Soobin instantly rushes to fulfill your needs after such an intense experience.
Yeonjun
"Cmon, you can take it," Yeonjun grins as he tilts the vibrator inside of you to hit that sweet spot again.
"I can't! I can't!" You cry out as your hands bundle into fists on his shirt. You were currently covered in toys that were at the hands of Yeonjun who had been overstimulating you for way too god damn long. "Yeonjun...I'm serious I can't," you cry out as tears build in your eyes but Yeonjun just kisses them away.
"Just a bit longer baby, I know you can do it. Deep breaths baby," he says as he slowly increases the vibrations as he rubs your clit in tight little circles. He rests his forehead against yours when you suddenly feel something stirring inside you.
"Y-Yeonjun I think-" you begin to warn him but he cuts you off.
"You can do it baby," he kisses you softly before resting his forehead on your again, except yours is covered in sweat and his isn't. That's when it happens. Something inside you bursts and you let out a pathetic cry of pleasure as your bails claw at Yeonjuns back.
"Yeonjun-ah!" You cry out in a symphony of pleasure as you let yourself go. Yeonjun is surprised at first, watching the fluids soak the bed and his thighs. He then quickly grabs the remote to the toys and turns them down slowly, not wanting to take away any extra pleasure that might be lingering. He then grabs you in a hug.
"You did so fucking good baby," he showers you in kisses as you chuckle softly, your chest still heaving. "I'll let you rest now while I clean up. Catch your breath and relax," yeonjun smiles as he stands up off the bed.
Beomgyu
To be honest, he didn't really know what the fuck he was doing but it seemed to be working. A few nights ago when you left beomgyu all by his lonesome like a big meanie he went onto pornhub to help him get off. While he was scrolling he saw a video about how to scientifically make a woman squirt. He was very intrigued and fell into a rabbit hole about the science of woman's bodies and damn was he impressed. Of course, he was up for the challenge though.
So now he had you on the bed, legs spread wide as he flicked his tongue against your clit and used almost a scratching motion against your G-Spot. He was determined to get you to squirt because he wanted to let you feel this intense pleasure. Then he heard you say the words he had been waiting for all night.
"B-Beomgyu..." you say shyly. "I-I feel like I'm gonna...pee," you admit as you hold back your moans.
"Perfect baby," he smirks up at you as he gives your clit a minute without stimulation, but his breath cools your clit, making your pussy tighten. "Just relax and let it out, I promise it's worth it," he begins to thrust his fingers faster and more forcibly. Your mind then started to go blank, all you could think about was his fingers pounding into you.
"G-Gyu-ah!" You grab a fist full of his long hair and tug on it slightly. "I-I feel-" before you can finish your statement Beomgyu has to squint his eyes shut to avoid liquid in his eyes. He opens his mouth to catch some of your arousal and hums in satisfaction at the tangy flavor on his tongue. When your high is over your body turns to jelly and you melt into the bed, feeling completely weak and immobile. Beomgyu felt overwhelmed with success as he watched your chest heave and sweat build up along your hair line, he knew he succeeded in making you feel above the clouds.
"Here have some water," Beomgyu offers you a water bottle from the nightstand that he had prepared earlier and watched in awe as you drank your water. He pets your hair as you chug it down and let out a sigh as your lips part the water bottle cap.
Taehyun
Terry knew he was skilled in the art of sex but he had never gotten a woman to squirt before, which didn't bother him or anything, but it was just something he noticed. That was until recently. Suddenly women squirting was becoming a trend of porn and started to bother him that at the very least he didn't even know how to do it. So he went to Google.
He watched a few tutorials on how to scientifically make a woman squirt and he understood from the videos that it wasn't something easy to achieve. Pressuring you into trying to squirt would only make things worse; so he decided not to tell you about it and simply ask to finger you. When he started he played it off normal and got you to orgasm once, then he switched tactics and focused on the sponge we call the G-spot.
He flicked your clit with his tongue and sucked on your folds as he flicked his finger back and forth on that spot. You could tell this orgasm was different and you had to tell Taehyun.
"T-Tae...I feel like..." as soon as you began to warn him he looked up at you, eager to hear what you'd say next. "I feel like I'm gonna...pee or something," you blush and cover your face slightly as you speak.
"Perfect...let it out baby," he smiles before leaning down to drink up your arousal again and before you knew it liquid was gushing out from between your legs.
Taehyun was honestly very excited to see that he was able to make you squirt but he focused more on making sure you were comfortable after such an intense experience. He had water prepared because he knew that after losing so much liquid your body would be craving fluid.
"Here, drink up," he encouraged as he helped you sit up on the bed. You were panting heavily, sweating, and your head was spinning like crazy. "Take your time," he smiles, "you did so good baby," he kisses your cheek and sits next to you, holding your water.
Kai
As much as Kai will try and deny it he really doesn't know that much about sex. He knows the basic stuff obviously and he's seen a lot of things on porn but there's still a lot he doesn't know the science behind; like squirting.
Conveniently though he knew where your G-spot was and that when he teased it you would lose your mind in pleasure. He used this to his advantage by getting a little internal vibrator that is aimed to go on the lower part of the G-spot, meaning that if he did this right, he could make you squirt. Did he know that? No. But point is he knew it'd make you see stars.
He placed the toy accordingly and turned it on, the buzzing shooting up your body in the most pleasurable way you knew, before beginning to eat you out softly. You lay comfortably against the pillows on the headboard of the bed and moan your little heart out. However, after a few minutes, something started stirring in your stomach, something indescribable.
"Kai..." you brush back some hair out of his face and he looks up at you.
"Yes baby?" He looks up at you attentively.
"Never mind..." You brushed off the feeling and let him continue but that sensation doesn't fade and suddenly you can't hold it. Your back arches off the bed as you tangle your fist in his hair. "I-I'm close!" You cry out, as if it wasn't obvious, and experience squirting for the first time.
Kai was caught off guard, not expecting to be able to achieve this level of pleasure in his performance. He's not really sure what to do but he turns the vibrator off and let's you catch your breath.
"That was..." he chuckles softly. "Amazing, how do you feel?" He crawls up to lay next to you.
"Exhausted," you laugh and kai brushes your hair back with a smile.
#txt smut#txt au#txt imagines#txt post#txt fanfic#txt hard hours#txt x reader#txt soobin#txt taehyun#txt ot5#txt reactions#txt headcanons
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Introducing the Gehenna Devils to Your Plushies - Pt. 1
The Gehenna Devils deciding to show up to your room for sex end up getting met with you deciding to sit down and show them all your plushies!!
I've decided to split Gehenna into two parts for my mental sake.
Notes: mildly sexual content, nothing to crazy. Gender neutral reader! This part includes: Sitri, Amy, Paimon, & Leraye!
Satan and the other Kings found here !
Sitri
Honestly, he'll hold back on sex for as long as you wanna talk for.
He listens intently, hanging on to your every word. He's taking notes in his head, jotting down names, any lore you have if you do.
Your the most important person to him after, so every word you have to say is equally important!
He adores being one of the only ones allowed to see this side of you as well.
He has such a soft, endeared smile on his face as he listens to you talk.
Even if you spend hours talking he doesn't mind! He'll let it happen.
Of course, the fact he was here for sex doesn't change, that's always in the back of his head.
And by the time you're done talking he's practically smothering you in affection anyway because of how adorable you are! So of course that leads exactly how you think it will.
And if you just happen to get flustered by said affection, well then that's even better for him! Your heart rate does increase then, after all.
Amy
He's gonna be kinda blunt about it I think. You start talking about your plushies and he's just like "Okay but I'm here to fuck."
You can give it to him right away, or you could make him wait and keep talking! It's more fun if you go that route.
Tell him he's being too impatient and he can wait a bit!! And then just go on and on and on until he can't take it anymore.
He's annoyed, but most importantly, it's kinda turning him on more.
On the other hand, he also can't deny you're cute like this.
I feel like he's the type to get cuteness aggression.
He's gonna try and start grabbing your cheeks and biting you, once again you could give in. But you could also swat him off and force him to wait longer.
If you really wanna make it worse on him through a little comment his away about how he's acting, a little degrading if you want.
Honestly with the amount of teasing you do to him and how long you make him wait, he's not retaining a single damn piece of information about those plushies.
Be careful your next steps, if you don't stay in control of the situation once you actually allow him to fuck you (which won't be hard if you're trying to dom him), he will take it back. And he's not gonna be the nicest given how frustrated he is lol.
Paimon
Oh my goodness, you're the cutest thing to him right now!!!
He's practically covering you in kisses, all giggly watching you talk!
He's bound to have a few plushies himself, he'll be sure to show them to you later.
Right now though, he's letting you do your thing. You won't succeed on telling him about every single one in one setting, but he'll listen to however many he can.
Unfortunately you won't be able to talk the more he gets worked up.
He's just thinks you're so adorable!! Eventually he's gonna snap and just start squishing and pinching your cheeks!!!
He can't control himself! He's throwing so many compliments at you and not letting go of your face and giving you kisses!!! Your head is gonna start spinning at the rate he's going.
Of course this leads back to the original reason he was here.
I wouldn't be surprised he gets cuteness aggression too lol.
So prepare for that!!! If your covered in bites after don't even be surprised.
Leraye
Hey, he has a lot of plushies too!!!
Well, they're all headless. But it's fine!!!! He cherishes them a lot still!!! Mostly because Satan was involved in the being headless part but still !!!
I think he'd be so interested in listening he'd completely forget the original reason he was here for.
I don't know how much he remembers, but he at least knows their names!!!
Honestly I think he just likes hearing you talk. Doesn't matter about what! If you're happy than he's content!!!
By the time you're done, he's just wrapping you in his arms and giving you kisses!
Like I said, he kinda forgot about sex.
It'll come back to him at some point during him kissing and cuddling you. Probably.
Definitely will if it someone starts thundering at least?
Worst comes to worst just ask him what he was here for then you're back on track! And well, maybe turn your plushies around so they won't have to witness what follows.
#I GOT WAY INTO WRITING AMYS IM NGL APOLOGIES#sorry if the others look shorter compared to is i had thoughts#what in hell is bad#whb#whb x reader#what in hell is bad x reader#whb sitri#whb amy#whb paimon#whb leraye#whb smut
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the sirius watermelon fic was SO CUTE I NEED A PART TWO OF THEM GETTING TOGETHER
watermelon pyjamas pt.2
sirius finally tells you how he feels. (the classic angry confession trope) part 1
words: 1.7k
genre: literally idiots™ to lovers, roommate!sirius, hurt/comfort(?), confession, lil angst, ends with fluff.
a/n: guys this is like my first ask. eeeek! thanks for requesting and reading<3
.....
“I’m an idiot”
“You're gonna have to elaborate."
“James, please."
Sirius wasn't sure if he would classify this as a bad day. Realising he's in love with you wasn't the worst thing that could happen to him, but hearing James gloat about how right he had been was.
He had managed to avoid you that evening, even the next day, internally panicking over what to do. But he was home in the evening, ignoring that stupid warm feeling in his chest when he saw your shoes in front of the door.
He entered the room, and sighed.
I'm fucked.
“Did you buy fruit themed pyjamas?" Sirius asked, his eyes moving over the cherry printed clothing. He was annoyed, not at you, mostly at himself. He couldn't find a single explanation why this affected him so much, but it did.
“I have watermelon, cherry, kiwi and peach.” You counted on your fingers.
“Wear the peach one tomorrow." Sirius grimaced at his too quick of a response, thankfully his face wasn't visible. He wasn't very proud of himself right now.
"I meant like- as a suggestion, that sounds cute, you know." He tries to explain himself, cringing on his own words.
Your eyebrows raise in surprise, amused by his eagerness, “Do you want these? You seem to like them a lot." You asked cheekily.
Yeah, sure. That's exactly why I want you to wear these, Sirius though internally. His thoughts had involved you in his bed with the pants on, maybe off, but he kept that shamefully to himself.
The next couple of days felt torturous. Sirius felt like he had to physically restrain himself from reaching for you. Anytime you touch his shoulder, lean against him, huddle together on the couch, he overthought everything.
Every touch left him breathless, every look made it hard to breath. I need help.
.
You were distraught. For some reason, for the last few days, Sirius was acting weird. He had started pulling away from you, as if watching you from a distance. No ruffling your hair, no forehead kisses, no comfortable touches. It's not as if he owed you any affection, but he had stopped.
He knew.
He knew you had feelings for him. Even if he doesn't, which you desperately hope is the truth, he has a problem. You didn't know what to do. Everytime you thought to ask him something, he'd make up an excuse and leave. He definitely didn't want to talk to you.
Lily had suggested exactly as you predicted, the usual, you should talk to him, maybe he was just busy. And other times, she had been right, but not this time. All of this had led you to the inevitable decision, something you should have done long ago. Maybe if you had, this wouldn't have happened.
……
"I'm gonna move out, Lils.” You say into the phone,"What? Why?” Lily exclaimed, rather dramatically.
You sigh,"I can't live like this. He doesn't owe me anything. I shouldn't be expecting… things from him.”
There's a slight pause before you continue,"And I can't move on if I live with him. It's too painful, and too hard."
“Here's the real reason."
Lily felt like bashing her head against a wall. How can two people be so stupid at the same time? You two were perfect for each other, both too oblivious to see the obvious.
“Listen, I really think you should just tell him, even if you move out. He wouldn't stop being your friend, honey."
You hum as she says, but part of you knows you can't say it. You don't have the guts. You hear the familiar click of the door, Sirius is home.
“Lils, I've gotta go. I'll talk to you later." You hang up the phone, not listening to whatever she said at the end, too nervous to care.
Your hands are sweaty, and your hands are fidgeting constantly. Sirius comes in and can immediately sense your anxious energy,
“What happened, lovely?" He asks, his voice cooing as he moves over to you.
He's used to you busying yourself around the house, sometimes bobbing your head to music as you wash the dishes, or some other silly thing, he could go on.
“Sirius, we need to talk." You say quickly, your words too rushed, dreading this conversation.
Sirius' heart feels like it's going to lurch out.
Oh no.
He thinks that you know, somehow. That he had… he'd stopped saying it at a point. The impossibility of it all was a painful reminder. Now you're going to confront him. He's fucked.
“Okay…” He says, his voice too quiet now.
You rub your hands to pep yourself up, encouraging yourself to not lose track,
“I'm gonna move out."
The silence that takes over is one more overwhelming than any noise. Sirius is sure now, you definitely know. A dangerous dread spreads over his body, like a disease covering itself around him.
“It's not because of you, it's because of me." Sirius has the urge to scoff at the cliched statement, but his body feels too stiff, his eyes stuck on you.
But Sirius needed closure. So, whatever your feelings were, Sirius needed to hear why you're leaving.
“Why?" His voice is void of emotion. It breaks your heart.
A pitiful chuckle escaped you, “Sirius, you've made it clear you don't want me here."
Don't confront him. This wasn't the plan.
It wasn't. It wasn't even the reason you were moving out. But he was still your friend, he had still hurt your feelings. You were still mad at him, even though you had no right to be.
“What the hell do you mean?" Sirius asks, incredulous. How could he ever not want you here?
“We haven't talked properly in days. You answer me in singular words-"
Sirius cuts you off, feeling oddly defensive, even if what you were saying wasn't untrue,
“I've been busy-"
“Oh you've been busy before, Sirius. You never did this," You wave him off, but meeting his eyes, you say, “It's alright, I got the message, if you don't want me here-" Your voice rises despite your efforts as the conversation gets more heated,
"So what then? You're just gonna move out? Am I that terrible?” Sirius asks, sarcastically. Typical, you think. You pinch the bridge of your nose in frustration,
"Sirius, I told you, this isn't about you,”
Right now, he isn't keen on listening to your reasoning. In his mind, it's all his fault. It's his fault that you have to leave. He's scrambling for explanations,
"Look, I'm sorry that I'm in love with you, alright? I couldn't help myself. Hell,” He laughs, pity and amusement lacing his words, “I didn't even know until a few weeks ago.”
Sirius felt like his world was falling apart. His heart has dared to love someone, and it backfired. He doesn't regret that he loves you, he couldn't. He had no control over that, ever. He was always going to be in love with you.
He only regrets that you found out, somehow. But he supposed that was also inevitable, you weren't daft.
“The point is,” His pleading eyes look at you, “It’s my problem to deal with, not yours.” His eyes are watching your face, you don't know what he might find, “Please, don't leave.”
A few moments pass, and it's as if the world is coming back to you. And one sentence rings in your head, distinct from any other sentence he's said.
I'm sorry that I'm in love with you.
“You what??” You ask, your voice full of incredulity. It feels like someone had hit you with a hammer, or pushed you off a cliff.
“I didn't want to be the guy who's your friend and then tells you he's in love with you, you know? I'm sorry that I love you, but you don't have to leave. If it matters, I will. You should stay here.” Sirius stammers out, his voice laced with pain and nervousness.
Your hands are wrapped under his, his hands clutching yours like they could stop you. They probably did stop you.
"You're in love with me?” You ask, your heart in your mouth, as if one word would be enough to tip you over.
“Please don't make me say it again." Sirius pleads, his eyes slightly watery.
Your eyes flick back and forth to both of his, searching for any kind of hesitance on his face, but it's plain. He's said those words like they were casual, as if they didn't just break your brain. There's nothing to say, or there are no words coming to your brain which are enough to convey your emotions.
A smile spreads across your lips and you bite your lips to conceal it undoing your hands from his to cradle his face,
“You’re in love with me.”
Sirius' pleading frown transforms to a confused one, and he nods, even if you hadn't asked it as a question this time.
You laugh, a watery laugh before you meet your lips to his, smiling too hard to kiss him properly.
Sirius feels like his body is on autopilot, his hands immediately cradling the back of your neck, his other one holding your wrist, his lips immediately responding to yours, as if it was all too natural.
In all his ‘foreseen’ outcomes, this hadn't been a possibility.
He smiles too, confusion still evident at the back of his mind, but he could only focus on the feeling of your lips on his, your hands holding his face.
His head tilts as he tries to get a better angle, desperate to know your tells and signs, his hand wrapping around your waist to pull you closer.
You smile again, breaking the kiss but his lips chase you which makes you laugh more, and he hides his face in your shoulder, laughing along with you.
“You're in love with me," You say it quietly, as if you're confirming it to yourself, but he's too close by not to listen.
“And here I was, moving out because I wanted to get over you."
His head whips up, his face dumbstruck,
“What?"
“Mhmm." You bite your lips, and Sirius has half a mind to kiss you again.
“You're also in…." He trails off, his expression confused but you know exactly what he's asking,
“Sirius, I just kissed you."
“Yeah, but what if you just took pity-" You shut him up again, and he melts, exactly as you intended, moulding his body to yours, trying to get as close as he can. If this was your way to shut him up, he could get used to it.
"Wait, so you're not moving out right? Because-" And his words are cut off again, the same way from before.
He smiles against your lips, again, ecstatic. Giddy, even. Sirius could get used to this. Sirius could get used to kissing you as he arrives home.
All this because of fucking watermelon pyjamas.
#sirius black fluff#sirius black drabble#sirius black x y/n#sirius black x you#sirius black x reader#sirius black imagine#sirius black fanfiction#sirius black#sirius black angst#marauders#hp marauders#marauders era#padfoot
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don't smile
pairing: joel x male!reader
summary: joel does his best to relax reader after a terrifying event
warnings: cursing, violence, mention of hallucinat!ons, top!joel, bottom!reader
a/n: saw smile 1 and 2 and i'm obsessed with kyle gallner now he is sooo fine omfg
you knocked on his door waiting for him to open it. you knocked again and again when he finally did. "y/n. what's up? it's almost 1 in the morning." you stayed silent and hugged him as he wrapped his arms around you even tighter. "come in. sit down baby boy." he whispered in your ear as he shut the door. you sat down and massaged your head as he rubbed your back. "im sorry for barging in on you like this. i've just been having a really weird day and i needed someone to talk to. someone i can trust." you tearfully confessed. "i'm here baby i promise. what's been happening though?" joel asked you as he kissed your head. "i've just been noticing a pattern. like everyone is just...smiling at me. i know it sounds weird or like i'm hallucinating but it feels so real. i'm scared joel." you felt your heart beat go up.
"jesus. i'm sorry you're dealing with this shit y/n. what can i do to make you feel better?" joel got even closer held you in his arms as you cried. you laid your head on his chest as you gathered the courage to talk. "i don't know. i was kinda thinking if... i could stay the night with you." you slowly whispered. "of course baby boy. you know i love having you around." you looked up and kissed his soft lips. "god i missed you. feels like we haven't been together in so long." you said. "god i know. feels like we haven't fucked in so long." joel replied as you laughed and looked at him. "it has been a while huh? you missed fucking my ass?" you asked as joel gripped your butt. "haha what do you think pretty boy?" he grinnned. "you know being here is making me feel so much better. kinda feeling like getting fucked right now too." you grinned at joel as he picked you up and laid you down on his bed.
joel took his shirt off and started kissing your neck and unzipped your jeans. you turned over and pulled his pants down and massaged his bulge. "fucking use my dick baby. it's all yours." he moaned as you stopped teasing him and put his thick white cock inside your mouth. he used your head and shoved his dick down your throat. "god i wanna feel you inside me joel." you begged and joel listened as he flipped you around and gripped your waist. he spit on his hand before slowly entering your tight hole. "fuck i love how your hole grips the shit outta my dick baby." he moaned and pushed himself inside you even harder. he smacked your ass cheeks and pulled you by your hair. "fuck right there daddy." joel loved hearing you moan in his ear. "yeah you missed this fucking dick didn't you?" he whispered. "fuck yeah i want it all in me baby." you replied.
"fucking ride me baby." joel said as he stopped and laid on his back placing you on top of him. you massaged his chest as you entered him and rolled your eyes back in pleasure. joel enjoyed watching you moan as you took his dick and jerked you off while you rode him. "fuck joel i fucking love you." you yelled as he sucked your dick while you continued boucning up and down on his cock. "you gon make me cum baby boy." joel moaned. you stopped and thought of another idea. you laid on the edge of the bed and told joel to shove his cock in your mouth. joel moaned as he fucked your face and came inside your mouth. you jerked off and came at the sound of his own moans. "that dick make you feel better about today baby boy?" joel asked as you laid on his bare back. "that dick can do miracles to anyone joel. that's for fucking sure." you replied and joel laughed as you fell asleep in his arms.
#gay love#men#male reader insert#malereader#male reader#gay#gay reader#gay smut#kyle gallner#kyle gallner x reader#joel smile#joel smut
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Thinking about old Worst Wolverine being called by each of the X men individually after they have a falling out because Logan injured a child very badly to the point the only reason they didn't die is because another classmates healing abilities all while he just... walked away.
Well- ran.. away... leaving a child to die. He's tried to explain thousands of times that he blacked out, that he didn't remember doing any of this. He tries to say that maybe it was someone else, that mystique did this shit all the time in his universe.
"Yeah, well!? This isn't your universe! Because the REAL Logan would never do this.." Scott screams at him as Logan leaves the Mansion for the last time. He doesn't come back. He didn't even get to tell his Xkits goodbye. It got to the point where Laura dropped out, taking Gabby with her, wanting nothing to do with the school anymore.
So now, here he is. In Maine, an old fisherman, part-time hunter, and the only people he lets around him have healing factors.
He lives with Wade, who still- by the way- doesn't have any grey hairs (maybe because hes bald but- yk)
One night, while Logan is out, making himself feel useful by feeding the small town they're in, providing for more poor families, feeding their children's hungry mouths and asking nothing in return but respect. (It gets to the point that the children cheer when they see Logan, wanting to hug him, but he growls at them to get off, too afraid of hurting them) Wade finally awnsers the ringing phone.
"What." There's vemon in his tone, but soon his eyes widden, and he frowns.
Walking outside he stands there a moment, knowing Logan can hear him.
He ignores him, looking at the fish, litsening, his breathing slowing as he skewers some with his claws. Its not exactly spear fishing but- close.
"What?" His voice is almost annoyed, as if knowing what his long time Husband was about to ask him.
"Logan.."
"No."
"Logan-"
He shakes his head. "Don't care."
"...She's missing."
He pauses, turning after scraping the dead fish into a bucket. "Who's missing?"
"There's a little girl missing."
"So?"
"Logan!"
"I'm not helping them, Wade. That's final." He growls.
For a moment, Wade frowns, but he didn't learn to obey thy husband like the bible said.
He never did.
"Logan, there's a 6 year old out there. All alone. Cold. Probably going to be eaten by wolves!" He shouts from the back porch, knowing his place enough to stay here and not come near his fish. Even after all these years, Logan was still finicky over his food. "And all because some old fart won't help her!"
The silence thickened as Logan thought about it, the hero side of his brain yelling 'We'll find her!' And the hurt old part of him saying 'That's not my buisness.'
".. You find her then." He compromises.
"I can't! And if anyone knows those Canadian woods, it's you! You said you knew those forests like the back of your hand!" Wade protests. "If I could smell someone through miles of freezing snow, I would. But I can't. So here I am, asking The Wolverine to go do what he does best."
He grunts, glaring. "And that is?"
"Helping a little girl get back to her mommy..." Wade says, knowing that he was sold. He knew he was sold the moment he told him to do it himself. "She doesn't have much time, Logan." He sighs, putting a cherry on top.
The greyed man huffed, grumbling under his breath for a moment. "Who will stay here with the dog?"
"Gabby can! She loves gabs." Gott'em.
"What about Laura? Why can't she find her?"
Shit.
"Logan, Laura has barley been in those woods. You've lived in them for years. So. What will it be. Pull up your panties and go save a little girls life? Or do it anyway when our baby girl gets lost too?"
Logan scoffs, disappointed. "..She wouldn't get lost.."
"She would if the scent kept being blown away.."
Wade adds, seeing the 'god damn it, he's right.' look on the old mans brow.
He lets out a large sigh. "...I don't want any help."
"Oh well too fucking bad bucko, I'm gonna go pack my snow suit!"
"No! I mean... I don’t want any help from THEM.."
"No promises. I'm not letting poor Susie die just because you have a grudge. Now put your fish in the freezer and lets go! They're coming to pick us up-"
"I ain't flying!!" Logan snarls, watching as his lover ran off, having a deep feeling that he would be in the air shortly..
#search and rescue#find her au#old man logan#old man wade#scott summers#what if#deadpool and wolverine#poolverine#logan howlett#wade wilson#deadpool#wolverine#deadpool 3#deadclaws#logan wolverine#worst wolverine
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nothing i don’t have | pjs (1)
pairings! park jongseong x reader, ft. huening kai x reader
summary! it was supposed to be simple, you and jay would fuck whenever either of you felt horny — no feelings. but it was hard not to catch feelings where park jongseong was involved. so you took the easy way out: you ended it.
genre! texts, written fic, college au, love triangle (corner)
word count! 1500
content warnings! swearing, jay is delulu and jealous
author's note! toenze is my new roman empire... i don't think i'll ever shut up about it. also realistically i'm only posting this bc yolo since i have nothing ???
masterlist | next
It didn’t affect Jay anyhow, really. That you ended whatever the two of you had for another guy. Like, this was all just casual. And you still wanted to be friends which was exactly what the two of you were before… so not much had to change between the two of you. Other than, well, the lack of physical intimacy.
He didn’t care, really. It wasn’t like you were the only girl he hooked up with (you were) or that he couldn’t get any other girls, but… you ending the situationship was kind of exactly why he liked you. Because you understood everything was casual and there were no expectations, no feelings. The others, they always got attached.
And, look, Jay understood that maybe he was being too nice or whatever, but it was in his nature to help out when necessary, or to cook for people in the morning — it wasn’t like he made breakfast only for those girls anyway. He had roommates to feed, too.
You ended the deal because you had no feelings for him. Which was exactly what he wanted. So why the fuck did it bother him so much? And for Huening Kai, no less? The tall emo kid that barely spoke and people thought he was being mysterious or whatever.
What could you possibly see in him?
What did he have that Jay didn’t?
Jay let out a frustrated sigh and ran a hand through his hair, eyes still fixated on the conversation between you and him. So Huening Kai asked you out. And you liked him enough to say yes. That was certainly not on his bingo card. Realistically, he thought the type of guys you liked were someone like Sung Hanbin or Choi Soobin or… him. Not Huening Kai.
What the hell?
“What’s up? Someone steal your cat?” Heeseung entered the shared living room with a grin. Jay had to dryly laugh at the irony of his question since, in a way, yes.
“Nah. It’s Y/N,” Jay replied, trying to sound nonchalant. “Wants to be just friends.”
“Damn, got tired of you already?” Heeseung teased, but he knew not to go further when Jay’s scathing glare nearly burned him. “What did she say?”
“Huening Kai asked her out and she said yes.” Jay shook his head. You and Kai weren’t even dating yet, and you already wanted to be exclusive with him? Why? Who even does that?
“Oh, Kai? He’s got music classes with me,” Heeseung said with a grin. “He knows how to play like five instruments. He’s kinda cool. A band kid, too. Pretty sure he has a band.” Jay didn’t need to know any of that. Not yet anyway. And then Heeseung added: “I think he was planning to ask Y/N out for a while. I caught him asking around about her once.”
Jay clenched his jaw. How long had you been talking to Kai before he asked you out? Was it out of nowhere or did you befriend him before? Which gave him another reason to be upset because if you did befriend him before, you didn’t tell Jay anything. In fact, you hadn’t been telling him anything about yourself or your life for a while now.
Which stung.
“Kai’s a good guy. You should be happy for her.” Heeseung made a point, giving Jay a long, meaningful look. There was more he wanted to express, but chose to not push his limits.
Jay huffed.
Thinking about it, maybe he’d have actually preferred it if you were in love with him.
Upon entering the Sanctuary Café, you noticed that it was already packed. But you were instantly recognised by Taehyun, who greeted you with a bright smile and led you toward a table that was empty, save for your reservation. It was in front of the stage set up for live performances, and it occurred to you then that Kai’s surprise was very likely just that. He prepared a performance for you.
Your eyes widened as you stared at the stage. It had a full instrument set up for a band. Drums, bass, keyboard and an electric guitar. The sight of it made you think of Jay for a bit, but you shook your head and got rid of the thought.
This would be your first date with Kai. The boy who actually doesn’t only want to sleep with you, but also wants to do everything else that real relationships include. Like holding hands and hugging in public and being affectionate without being judged. (The things you wished you could’ve had from Jay.)
A group of three guys entered the stage, none of which were Huening Kai. They glanced toward your table every now and then with a knowing smile, though. You watched them set up their instruments — the guitarist, the bassist and keyboardist. But the drums were empty.
Because of course, he knew how to play the drums. He was a genius that never flaunted his skills, and the reality of it hit you just now. Huening Kai was a drummer — which was actually sexy as hell.
“Hello, everyone, welcome to the Sanctuary Café,” the guitarist spoke into the microphone with the largest smile. He had a cute dimple as well, and you thought he perfectly fit Kai — whenever he wasn’t closing in on himself. “I’m Kim Taerae, lead singer and guitarist of our band, Toenze. We’ve prepared a very special performance today because one of our members wants to dedicate it to a special girl.”
A round of awes went through the crowd. You looked around in hopes of catching a glance of Kai, but he was nowhere to be seen. Instead, your eyes locked with a person you did not expect to see today — at all.
Jay stood at the back of the café with Heeseung by his side, and you wished you could unsee him. Your heartbeat raced, and your mind felt like you needed to come up to him and apologise. But what would you even be apologising for?
“On my left is our bassist, Choi Beomgyu, and on the keyboard, you’ve got Han Yujin. And, of course, we’re missing a key member — the drummer,” Taerae spoke lightly, his smile hearable in his voice. “Some of you already know him from our previous performances, but for those who have yet to meet him — please give a round of applause to Huening Kai!”
Kai wasn’t even inside the café. He entered through the main door in a dark grey hoodie, the hood covering his face. The whole shop held its breath as he looked up. And when his eyes met yours, a smile spread across his lips. Taking off his hood, he revealed his face and carefully styled bangs.
From the pocket of his hoodie, he pulled out a bouquet, and when he aimed through the crowd toward you, your heart nearly melted. All thoughts of Jay being here, too, evaporated from your mind. All you could think about was Huening Kai, looking beautiful as ever, heading toward you with a bouquet of flowers.
“For you, my lady.” He knelt down to hand you the flowers, and you stared at him with wide eyes. Grinning, he winked before standing up and heading toward the stage, leaving you absolutely flustered and frozen in place.
“Hello, everyone! This performance is dedicated to the girl that didn’t reject me. It’s for you, Y/N,” he said into the mic jokingly, but there was a hidden meaning behind his words.
The memory of how he asked you out lingered, and you giggled. You could still picture him, approaching you with his hands hidden in the pockets of his jeans. And then he asked you, in the most embarrassing way possible, if you were dating Jay. The smile that spread on his lips when you said that what you had with Jay was only casual was an unforgettable sight, really.
“I can make you forget him,” was Kai’s closing argument, and the confidence with which he had said it sent shivers down your spine. You couldn’t possibly reject him then.
Jay’s glare was palpable. You could feel it at the back of your neck, but you ignored him. Why was he glaring at you anyway? If there were no feelings involved, he shouldn’t care about any of this.
“The first song we prepared for today is called Higher Than Heaven,” Taerae informed the crowd. “And the second song is Kill the Romeo. Hope you guys like them!”
Both songs were amazing, and both conveyed one pretty clear message: I’m better than him. You couldn’t help but laugh and enjoy yourself while Kai’s band performed. They were good — really good. And eventually, you even stopped sensing Jay’s gaze burning through you.
Naturally, you turned around to check on the spot where Jay had previously been. Except he wasn’t there. Instead, you were met with Heeseung, who shrugged when he noticed you looking at him.
“He left,” Heeseung mouthed.
#enhypen#enhypen fic#enhypen ff#enhypen x reader#park jongseong fic#park jongseong x reader#enhypen angst#enhypen fluff#park jongseong#enhypen jay#haia writes
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Interview With the Vampire + Perfumes
i posted about wanting to make this and people were also curious, so here it is :) i absolutely have no qualifications to be making this. i just love perfumes and iwtv and wanted to combine em!! lmk ur thoughts <3 fyi this gets pretty long-winded and analysis heavy at times
louis de pointe du lac (new orleans/paris eras)
very slow world in my mind. i think he'd gravitate to the warm spice of it and the hints of whiskey. this also smells a bit like incense, which i think is fitting for him. louis' religious upbringing will always inform how i approach him. but this scent also reminds me of the clubs in new orleans, cigars and rich drinks, and that transfers over to him exploring new sides of himself in paris with photography and engaging with art and cafe scenes. i question the inclusion of the balsamic top note, it's actually much more tea-aligned! this is also quite masculine to me, which makes sense as, particularly in nola, he had to be a little overly masculine-- older brother, man of the house after the death of his father, business owner, and a black business owner in an extremely racist setting. i like this for him, i'd even go as far as to say maybe it's not quite masculine enough.
runner-ups: full incense by montale, nothing but sea and sky by une nuit nomade (this one is very bergamont heavy, which i also think he'd like) foreshadow by curatrix (this one is in my rotation rn and i am almost out because i use it SO much. musk, tobacco, incense, cypress)
louis de pointe du lac (dubai)
this one isn't similar to the above at all, but i think it sort of stays in line with what we know of louis in dubai. it's a very fresh scent, with residual fruity and cedar/fig accords snuck in there that are more noticeable with longer wear. this feels performative like most of dubai, put-together and appealing to the senses but deceptive at the end of the day. i think it's still something louis genuinely likes, but i see him, when he's happy, wearing something a bit more explicitly sweet-spicy, less wood-spicy. this is an amalgamation of the above scent and other sweeter, floral accords he'd drift to, but not quite leaning into it the way i suspect he'd be were he actually healed, had he actually confronted his past in full and emerged content with his circumstances.
runner-ups: of true minds by liis (this is inspired by shakespeare's sonnet 116, also smells like sooo complex. floral spicy with a bit of suede) angel dust by fugazzi (cashmere, pepper, bergamont)
lestat de lioncourt
i actually took so long to decide for lestat. after consulting @operahouses (thank you for enduring my lengthy perfume character analysis) i'm happy w this. it's very very floral, mostly rose, with jasmine and iris too. there's also the underlying patchouli and according to what i read, a sort of rosewater wine-y feel about it. walks the line of intense and mysterious with an elegant softness that feels very true to lestat coming off of paris and finding his footing (and the love of his life) in new orleans.
runner-ups: l'olympia music hall by histoires de parfums (floral, also the name is very lestat in the vampire lestat to me) baccarat rouge 540 by maison francis kurkdjian
rockstar lestat
this is zoologist, which literally makes perfumes off of animal scents. i think that is so fucking cool. anyway-- this is a very bold scent that takes the sweetness of the initial perfume i shared and expands upon it with some really interesting notes. there's passionfruit, leather, teakwood, and incense. (INCENSE, which i think he'd intentionally wear for the nostalgia it could potentially evoke in louis!!) but, overall, a very impressive and borderline questionable miasma of smells. because of this, it's startlingly unique. verrrry memorable, which is kind of the desired experience of a rockstar trying to get his ex-husband back.
runner-ups: triumph of bacchus by argos (this one has such an insanely diverse array of accords i feel only he could pull off) do not disturb by vilhelm parfumerie (this leans into femininity a bunch, which i am down for with lestat. also has some questionable accords but again i think this era welcomes that)
armand
so i'm not even going to pretend i'm not projecting with my first choice for him because i am-- press gurwitz 0.3 is soooo criminally underrated. it's got the knockout combo of the cinnamon and vanilla but when the smoky spice of it hits... it HITS! it also isn't overly sweet at all. the vanilla subdues the sweet notes and leaves sort of a smoky yet clean spiciness over time. i think also the idea of him wearing a gourmand scent has a lot of interesting character connotations in it-- wanting to be desired, wanting to be almost edible, to attract that sort of temptation. if not a gourmand, i can see him preferring fresh, clean, sharp scents-- hence the choices for him as rashid.
runner-ups: milk by commodity (amber, firewood, tonka bean; ultimately the marshmallow accord felt a bittttt out of line for him but this scent is GOOD. a pinch sharp but in a way that's striking rather than obtrusive) female christ by 19-69 (eucalyptus, woody, with cashmere and cinnamon at the base notes, emerging the longer the scent is worn)
armand as rashid
this one has a lot going on but i NEED you to stay with me and hear me out. first of all-- there's notes of pineapple here, which i feel are soooo good given the 'honey and pineapple' exchange. there's also a lot of sweetness here and while the 'honey' part isn't explicit, i feel like it's still reminiscent of it. also, who's to say rashidmand doesn't wear honey body oil with this? wouldn't put that past him. otherwise, this is also pretty floral, fresh, and long-lasting. my one flaw is it is intense, especially for his playing as rashid. my defense here is this: he's already gone with the slutty shirts and the speaking out of turn, so a memorable scent doesn't seem suddenly too far, at least not to me. also, the bottom notes like the vanilla stabilize the intensity. for the first hour or two after application, i'm sure this lingers in a room (which is what he'd want) but as it fades, you'd have to be in closer proximity to notice it.
runner-ups: honey & crocus by jo malone london (this is the honeyed scent that could replace the pineapple one, with traces of saffron and lavender included too which go nicely) fleur de délice by reminiscence (VERY herbal and fresh)
daniel molloy (1973)
ok i am pretty sure i'm not the first to say this but he's SO jazz club. to me. this on top of probably perpetually smelling like cigarettes. and i've heard it's more masculine-leaning, with the rum, spice, and tobacco staying on the longest. i think in devil's minion canon armand would also be all over this like a bloodhound. not much else to say aside from boozy and kinda sexy. the kind of thing you'd wear to go out and score drugs or a fatal vampire encounter.
runner-ups: none! i stand by this one. possibly book by commodity, which uses cedar and sandalwood to come shockingly close to putting your nose in a book. also accomplishes a sort of smokiness.
daniel molloy
this is kind of like if jazz club matured a bit. from what i read (i haven't smelled this one) it's very leathery and dry with a slight sweetness at the end. it has some pine and dates in the list of accords, which works for me too. it is also a bit sensual and i think daniel would wear this in dubai to see louis for the first time since '73. not too intense, which i think he'd prefer. @operahouses suggested a new car smell and i STRONGLY agree.
runner-ups: ombré leather (2018) by tom ford (this went too herbal for me to attribute to him, but i still think leather is good for him)
claudia in new orleans
getting into headcanon territory. this scent is sweet, light, and rosy. i'm imagining this is a gift from lestat before things soured. also something to wear before she branched out and developed her own preferences. i personally think this one is a bit strong and just a tad like a bath, but then again it's very clean and satisfying when the initial scent sits for a little. the sugarcane there brings it together too. this would also contribute to the infantilization both louis and lestat force upon her, the shared--whether explicit or implicit- idea that she's theirs, only the 'girl' part of daughter and too young and naive to be the 'woman.' i feel like she'd grow to hate this smell eventually the same way she grew to resent what lestat and new orleans meant for her.
runner-ups: rose of no man's land by byredo (i didn't think the spices fit, but could be that's a stepping stone for her)
claudia (paris)
i haven't tried this scent but i do love curatrix. so i think in a similar way to daniel's progression this is an older, sultry, woody-sweet rendition of what a younger claudia would enjoy. knowing curatrix, it's probably a bit intense, but for a woman duelling with the reality she will not ever be properly seen as a woman, i think it's very fitting! the cloves and tobacco lend age to it while the honey and vanilla sweeten it up a bit, dries down into a suggestion of ginger. i think the name would attract her as well. claudia owns being a vampire-- she loves it, wants so badly to be loved by the coven for loving vampirism, so the idea of fatale is definitely something she would gravitate to in my mind.
runner-ups: hypnotic poison by dior (similar wood themes with a bit of floral and fruitiness mixed in, but mostly, the bottle is cute) carmilla by immortal perfumes (the name, naturally-- also has a blood accord!! was my first choice until i remembered fatale exists)
madeline
gets a classic. i wore this for years before i started to present less feminine. it's clean, floral, sweet, a bit powdery, and stays on forever. not too overwhelming but def alluring. one of thee ultimate femme lesbian choices to me!
runner-ups: immortelle by chloé (still white floral with some tonka snuck in. i like the name for her a lot!)
santiago
i really have nothing to say other than this scent doesn't get very good reviews and it kind of pisses me off and that's perfect for him. def wears way too much of this and it pisses off everyone in the coven. the HEIGHT of gay man who is about to infuriate you.
okay i had a lot of fun doing this. so if anybody else matched my freak ab this i would LOVE to do more.
#iwtv#interview with the vampire#louis du pointe du lac#lestat de lioncourt#claudia de pointe du lac#claudia de lioncourt#armand#the vampire armand#daniel molloy#loumand#devils minion#amc iwtv#armandaniel#loustat#lesmand#armandstat#claudeline#madeline eparvier#santiago#theatre des vampires#devil's minion
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later, then | i. rin
✮ tags ; gn!reader, pre-relationship, tooth-rotting fluff, rin in his actor era, assisstant!reader. this is sfw but i am an 18+ blog so minors do not follow me lol.
✮ wc ; 1.4k
✮ a/n ; a comm for @rabbbitseason that i had to rewrite a couple of times. i rlly liked being able to write something like this. i hope u like the direction i ended up going in sdjksdj
✮ synopsis ; on his last day of filming rin tried to keep you out of his thoughts.
"Rin-kun,"
He knows your voice well enough to know it's you before he even opens his eyes. "Hn,"
"We'll be shooting your scenes next," You say, tapping his shoulder lightly. "They told me to wake you up."
It's not like Rin to fall asleep on a set somewhere, no matter how tired he is. He's usually the type to push through it no matter what. It's petty, but it feels like he's lost otherwise.
He was exhausted before hand though. Months of shooting and he still can't get used to his schedule.
He's here from a morning flight from France that he took all the way back home to Japan. After he arrived, he immediately hailed a cab and busted ass to get here on time. He would normally rest on his journey but found he couldn't bring himself to actually fall asleep.
Professor Heartbreak is a Japanese TV drama (airing domestically lived and internationally on Netflix) and Rin's first acting role. The series follows a romance between a graduate student caught in a lot of debt and her relationship to one of her pupils, college student and heir to mega corporation.
Rin has never had any interest in acting, and had even less interest in acting in a romance drama. His manager however urged (read: forced) him to take the offer, emphasizing how good it would be for his public image among other things. Of course, Rin still declined but no matter what he did - he couldn't actually seem to get out of doing it.
He's off-season now though he started filming during. He can say with confidence there's nothing he likes about the job. No matter how much his manager or director insists that all he needs is to have a pretty face - there's still a level of annoying obligation he feels towards doing it.
The reception was more positive then they were expecting. Apparently Rin is a half-decent actor. He's not playing a character he feels is so different from him, if not much more cringe.
Rin plays the love interest Yukio. Not very expressive and rich with a tendency to chase what he wants. Generally aggressive about the female love interest.
It doesn't suit him and he doubts he'll do it again. But a lot went into getting the role. If he's going to do it at all, he might as well do it well.
Rin hates shit that's half-assed after all, lukewarm acting doesn't suit him.
Today is the last day of shooting and happens to be one of the last scenes. Shooting is sometimes chronological, but not always. Regardless, after today it'll be the last time Rin steps foot on this set. No more long nights, or trying to memorize lines, no more out of place press runs. The practice season will start again and he can go back to the busy he's been used to since the debut of his soccer career.
That also means it'll be the last time you and Rin spend time in the same room. It's the first thing he thinks of when you wake him.
Rin sits up and carefully rubs his eye, careful not to disturb the makeup he wears for set.
"When the fuck did I sleep?"
You laugh under your breath, handing him a water bottle like you already knew he would want one. He takes it from you and takes a long drink trying to wake himself up.
"Been a little over an hour. Hour and a half, maybe. Did you sleep okay?"
He scowls, just slightly. "It was fine."
"I'm glad you slept well," You add, voice full of mirth and amusement as you read between the lines said all too easily.
He was moody when he came on set with you, worse then normal and refused to sleep. You suggested he rest his eyes and Rin scoffed at you for thinking he's so stupid. He's not a kid you can trick into going to sleepy.
You conceded easily, made a single sly comment about hoping he's all there when it's his turn. It'd be a shame if he had to keep shooting the same scene and ended up home late after all. Enough of a provocation to submit to your stupid suggestion.
Rin supposes this was why his manager hired you in the first place. You're in a temporary position, your contract to be in place until filming is over and Rin's back on normal scheduling. Rin realized pretty early on that you're more like a glorified babysitter then an assistant which is why he didn't have very pleasant expectations of you at the start.
But you're competent. Push without pushing too far. Clever even when it's annoying. You've known each other for a year and the only thing that binds you is work but you're with him all the time. Maybe it's just the job, but it still feels like you know him better then most.
Not like he cares.
Realizing he was tired enough to sleep and goading him into doing it are two separate things though. But you've managed both pretty easily which he can admit is a feat. You're always like that. You remind him a little of another annoying striker in that way.
A quiet settles between you. Rin gropes around for his phone, checking his messages and the time. Still a few hours until the set wraps and no doubt social obligations afterwards. He groans.
"I'm going home after we're done shooting,"
"You can't," You say, apologetic. "Manager says you have to show your face during the after party."
"That doesn't make any fucking sense."
"You're the main male love interest, you should at least drop in for a little bit. Have a beer, unwind."
"I don't like drinking,"
"A soda then. Don't be so stubborn."
Rin huffs, carefully pushing a hand through his hair careful not to mess up the styling. There's a beat of silence.
"Are you going?"
"To the drinking party?"
Rin looks at you as if to ask isn't it obvious. You just chuckle.
"Why?" You tease. "Will you stay longer if I go?"
Rin pauses. And it's quiet for just a second too long before he realizes. You seem to understand the implication almost instantly.
Even before Rin who catches himself just a second too late.
"...I don't mind staying with you until you've filled your quota. If that's what you're asking." You supply.
Rin frowns, faint warmth creeping his neck. "Then do that."
You fight back a smile. "Sure, sure. What time were you thinking of leaving?"
"As soon as possible," He says bluntly. You laugh that time. Brightly. Sincerely.
"Seems like a waste. You can handle fifteen minutes without me, right? Doesn't feel like I need to go if we're gonna part ways so soon anyhow."
Rin pouts. A petulant, ugly feeling in him. He speaks without thinking. "You're saying it like we're never gonna see each other again,"
You both catch it.
"Are we?" You're grinning at him where you stand next to him, eyes cast down to look at his face. He fights off a blush but fails to keep from turning red. Fuck. "Seeing each other again, I mean."
He doesn't know what it is exactly that makes him answer the way he does.. "No shit."
You grin, beam really - and your fingers brush his hand on the couch. Rin jolts, clearly in deeper than he thought.
"Okay. Then let's go together and get something to eat after," You say, coy. "Since we're seeing each other again,"
Rin rubs a hand on the nape of his neck.
"Shut up. Fine. Whatever,"
You laugh again no longer hiding it. He hands his water bottle to you as he gets called onto set. Standing to his feet, he takes a breather to stretch out all his limbs.
You give him a mischievous smile, staring at him openly when something seems to strike you. Like you've just realized something.
"Rin-kun. Bend down a little. I need to tell you something."
Confused but not concerned, he complies without thinking.
You place your copy of the script strategically to obscure both your faces, and in a single split second - Rin feels something soft and warm press against his cheek followed by another giggle like a bell chime. He flusters, instantly scowling and tomato-faced and nearly cussing as you look so self-satisfied.
(Warm. So warm where you linger on his skin. Hot where you've touched him despite how brief.)
"For good luck. I'll see you later then. Knock 'em dead, okay?"
He curses under his breath before they call him one more time and he watches you disappear to go do the other half of your job. He puts his hand to his cheek and takes a breath.
Stupid. He closes his eyes and buries the explosion of feeling in him as he replies to no one in particular.
"Idiot."
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