#i'm trying to get back on my bullshit harder than before but it's taking time | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

cryptidghostgirl · 10 months ago

Text

Make You Wish Chapter Two -- Where Is She

Pairing: Alastor x Reader

Warnings: really super mild versions of cannon violence.

Word count: 2,072

Previous Part: Make You Wish Chapter One -- Seven Years

Master list link:

Master Lists

Hazbin Hotel Master List

Make You Wish Master List

A/N I accidentally posted this before I was ready tooo ahhhh!!! it's fine. Everything was already written I just had to format it properly and stuff.

Alastor had been at the Hazbin Hotel for only a few days and was already enjoying his time there greatly. It was an entertaining place, to say the least, and now that he had his feet under him, he was intent on making it even more so.

Charlie was pacing around the sitting room, stressed beyond belief. She had gone to speak to Adam the previous day to try and get his support for her plan, only to wind up with the news that the next extermination was coming in six moths, rather than the usual twelve. Alastor watched her duress in amusement as he sauntered into the hotel lobby, side stepping Angel, Charlie, and Vaggie to take a seat at the bar.

"It's nothing we can't handle," Charlie was explaining, trying to convince herself as much as anyone else in the room, "just angels cutting our timetable in half. But who needs a whole year to save souls? Am I right? And next time, when they cut the time in half again and again, we'll just handle it, right?!"

Vaggie got to her feet, grabbing her girlfriend by the shoulders and stopping her from her relentless pacing.

"Yes, we will." she confirmed.

"Oh please," Angel cut in from the couch, his eyes fixed on his phone, "ya had less than half a chance when you started all this salvation bullshit. And now...? Ain' no silver lining this time, toots."

"Sure there is." Charlie turned to him, "We just have to look a little harder for it."

"Well, while you're lookin', the rest of Hell is going nuts."

Angel turned his phone to Charlie, showing all the news headlines of terror he'd pulled up.

"People are already freaking out about the news. Look at what's happening in the Doomsday District."

He scrolled down to a video of a burning town just as a text notification popped up.

"Uh, what is a 'donkey show'?" Charlie asked in confusion, having read the text.

"Ah, heh, nothing." Angel pulled the phone from her line of sigh, trying to come up with a quick lie, "My boss, Val, is just freaked out about the news too. Like I said, everyone's losing their shit."

"Yeah, that is true." Vaggie hummed thoughtfully, a hand to her chin, "Sinners are desperate. Maybe desperate enough to try anything to escape extermination?"

"Speaking of sinners," Alastor said, drawing the attention in the room to him as he turned towards Husk who was busying cleaning glasses, "I think it's time I look up my old partner in crime."

"And what do I have to do with that?" the cat demon gruffly replied, not sparing Alastor a glance.

"Your partner in crime?" Charlie asked, taking a step towards the bar, "I always thought you... you know, worked alone?"

Alastor's grin widened.

"Oh never you mind, dear." he replied, throwing her a glance over his shoulder, "Just a lost soul I'm acquainted with is all."

"Yeah. You've been trying to get her to sell you that soul for what, the past seventy years is it now?" Husk scoffed.

Alastor's eye twitched slightly at the implication of his failure.

"If I wanted it, I would have it." he hummed threateningly, and Husk backed down.

"That's great!" Charlie exclaimed, "So she's a friend of yours? Do you think she'd help with the hotel? Oh! Or maybe that she'd want to be a guest?!"

"Charlie-" Vaggie began but Alastor quickly cut her off.

"I don't see a harm in asking." he cheerily replied.

"And you know her, Husk?" Charlie asked.

He looked up as he placed a clean glass on the shelf, shooting Alastor a glance before nodding.

"Do you think she'd be a good fit?"

He sighed, crossing his arms as Husk turned to face Charlie fully.

"She's a sweetheart, I think you'd get along well." he admitted, "But she's trouble, just like him."

Husk gestured towards Alastor and Charlie's smile widened.

"Well, with all Alastor has done for us so far, I think we could probably use more trouble like him."

"Oh you flatter me." Alastor waved her off, looking away in a false show of humility.

"No really." Charlie insisted, "You-"

"Show yourself, Alastor!" a dramatic call cut Charlie off mid thought.

----

"Um. Alastor?" Charlie hesitantly began, peeking out from behind his shoulder as she watched the havoc he was wreaking on the snake shaped sinner, "I think he's had enough."

Alastor cackled joyfully, not even watching as his shadows destroyed the air ship.

"Nah, he's got a few more hits in 'im." Angle disagreed, enjoying the show immensly.

The shadows tilted the ship forward, dropping Sir Pentious out through the broken windshield. He hit the ground with a thud, right before Alastor's feet. Stopping in his fit of laughter, he looked down at the man, spinning his microphone like a baton.

"Thanks for another forgettable experience." he teased as one of the egg creatures fell from the ship, splattering on the ground beside Charlie who took a step away.

"Thank... you..." Sir Pentious began, his voice pained as he raised his head slowly, "for letting your guard down!"

Almost before Alastor could register what was happening, the snake had grabbed onto his coat with his tail and torn a piece from its hem. Alastor took a menacing step forward, his eyes narrowed.

"Oh shit." Pentious' triumphant laughter died out.

Slowly, Alastor sprouted a pair of shadowy horns. With a snap of his finger, the ground under the snake detonated, throwing him up into the air and far away from the hotel with a scream. He watched as Pentious flew away, retracting his horns and standing with a hand behind his back. Once the snake was out of sight, he at last turned to Charlie and Angel, as well as Husk and Vaggie who had come out to join them.

"Well, it looks as thought I need a visit to the tailor." he hummed, "Husk?"

"Yeah?" Husk grunted.

"Where did you say she was again?"

"I didn't."

Husk crossed his arms defensively and Alastor took a step towards him, his smile a little smaller than normal. There was an odd air between the two of them, a tension every one present could feel biting into their skins.

"Whats that?" Alastor asked lowly, his head cocked slightly to the side.

Husk sighed.

"Last I heard she was working for some imp in Pentagram City." Husk reluctantly admitted, looking away, "As an assassin or something, I don't know the details."

"An imp, you say." Alastor thoughtfully replied, his expression unreadable.

"Look, Alastor." Husk turned back to his master, "Don't fuck this up for her. She seemed pretty happy last time I saw her. You disappearing like that wrecked the poor girl."

"Just means she'll be all the more happy to see me."

Alastor turned, beginning to walk away. At the sound of Husk speaking again, he paused, keeping his back to the quartet.

"Alastor, ju-"

Alastor turned his head, shooting Husk a critical look over his shoulder. It shut the cat demon up almost immedeatly.

"Best of luck, chums!"

"Wait, you're leaving?" Vaggie exclaimed, taking a step forward.

Irritation prickling beneath his skin, Alastor turned back to them once again. It had been seven years, he didn't know how much longer he could wait. Sure, he'd had time in Hell on his own, nearly twenty years of it. He didn't need her per-say, she just made things more interesting, more enjoyable. It just felt odd for them to be parted.

Sure, when they had first met, he had thought she was just an easy steal of a soul. Young, naive, frankly undeserving in his opinion of eternal damnation. But smart, smarter than she looked. Y/n had refused any and all deals with the man and so, he had taken it as a challenge. What had begun as a game: Alastor trying to gain ownership of Y/n's soul ended up as an after-life long friendship.

Alastor would never admit it to anyone but, in his absence, he had even missed Y/n the smallest bit. She kept things interesting, he told himself, that was all. Always causing discreet mischief, always quick with a joke. A true pleasure to have on the show, as he always used to say.

"Alastor, we need your help. We need you to do your job." Vaggie continued.

"We need a wall." Angel finished for her, gesturing to the portion of the hotel Sir Pentious had destroyed in his attack.

"Of course." Alastor replied, keeping an irritated remark at bay, "Can't let my new project fall into disrepair already. What would the papers say?"

With a snap of his fingers, minions made of shadows pulled themselves from the ground at his feet. So as not to give anyone another chance to stall him further, he quickly turned on his heel and walked off.

Alastor was a man of image, he kept his pace slow and firm. Couldn't have any of them getting any ideas in their heads about the nature of his relationship with Y/n. That had always been trouble in the old days. The minute people saw the pair together, they started assuming things. He had already decided he was going to be more careful about that this time around and this was the first step.

There was a slight bounce in his step as he headed into the city's center, an odd anticipation fluttering in his chest. Alastor pushed it to the side. It was simply the thrill of being back in his old stomping ground that was to blame. It didn't matter he'd already been back a few days and it should have worn off by now, he should just feel lucky to still be so entertained by this place he'd known longer than he'd even been alive. Right?

----

Y/n was sitting at Blitzo's desk, reading through paperwork he had neglected to fill out or file correctly. It wasn't like any one in Hell really payed their taxes, but the mess still stressed her out. She let out a sigh, leaning back in her chair and rubbing her eyes in irritation. She had never had to do this type of work before, not since she'd been alive anyways. How the times had changed.

Noise of Blitzo and Moxxie fighting filtered in through the closed door. It wasn't anything special, anything new. The pair were always at one another's throats, she wasn't worried. What would be worrying, was if things were quiet. This was just the way life sounded now: inelegant and brazen. Nothing like it used to.

The buzzing of her phone on the desk beside her pulled Y/n from her reveries and she picked it up. The collar lay heavy around her neck as she read the message. Y/n had made some bad choices along the way, figuring out how to be on her own. She wasn't pleased with them, but it was what she had had to do. Back then, she hadn't had the need to fight for herself in over sixty years. It was the only thing she could think to do.

She double tapped the text, marking it with a thumbs up before shutting her phone off and leaning her head down on the table. There was no point in wishing for things to be different than they were but, it was just that time of year and the text had pushed her over the edge. A few stray tears trickled out of her eyes.

"Goddamnit, Al." she sighed into the empty room, "Where the hell are you."

Silence pressed its hands against her ears, blurring her perception of the world around her. Y/n had a few seconds, a few nearly peaceful moments before, again, her thoughts were interrupted. This time, not by her phone but by Blitzo calling for her from the other room.

"Y/n!" he yelled and she lifted her head off the table.

"Yeah?" she called back through the closed door.

"Get your ass out here!"

"Why? A client? Can't you handle it?"

"Y/n!" he insisted again, a sense of urgency to his voice.

If this was anything less than an absolute emergency, he was never going to hear the end of it. She was not in the mood for his games today.

"Fine." she groaned and pulled herself from the chair, "I'm coming."

----

Next Part -> Chapter Three -- A Reunion

585 notes · View notes

captainsophiestark · 9 days ago

Text

Crib Construction

Cassian x Reader

Masterlist - Join My Taglist!

Written for my personal fic writing challenge for 2024, Sophie's Year of Fic! Featuring a new fic being posted every Friday, all year long :)

Fandom: ACOTAR

Summary: Cassian and his mate have been tasked with putting together Nyx's crib. Unfortunately, it's a harder task than they thought it would be.

Word Count: 1,282

Category: Fluff, Humor

Putting work into an AI program without permission is illegal. You do not have my permission. Do not do it.

"Cass, come here. Does this look right?"

My boyfriend didn't waste a second before joining me on the floor, kneeling behind me and looking over my shoulder. Neither of us spoke for a minute, then I heard a rustling of paper as Cassian sighed.

"Yeah, it looks right. That hasn't stopped it from being wrong before, though."

"Well, let's just hope for the best."

I could feel through the mating bond just how little Cassian wanted to do that, but he knew as well as I did that we didn't have much other choice. I took a deep breath, then gently pressed the two pieces of wood before me together, trying to get them to link like they were supposed to.

Of course, it didn't work. I added slightly more pressure, but still nothing. I put my entire weight and all of my strength into it, and when the damn thing still didn't budge, I let out a scream and shoved both pieces away from me before I could really lose my temper and accidentally break something.

"This is bullshit!" I shouted, whirling around to face Cassian. He had a look of grim resignation, meeting my eyes with sympathy. Our positions had been exactly reversed about ten minutes ago. "Rhys set this up as a way to get back at you for winning the snowball fight last time, and I'm getting caught in the collateral. This sucks."

"Honestly, maybe he did," Cass said, sighing and leaning back on his hands. "Or maybe Az did something to break this one too before he got kicked off the job."

I groaned, flopping over and into Cassian's side to lay against his chest and stare at the ridiculous contraption that had been defeating us all afternoon. Rhys and Feyre had asked us to assemble Nyx's crib, and at first, we'd been honored and happy to help. But hours later, when nothing was going right and none of the pieces were fitting together the way they were supposed to, I was about ready to throw all of it out the window and into the Sidra below.

We'd been given the task in the first place because Az had shattered the same type of crib to pieces after spending a day being stumped by the puzzle. Cassian and I had inherited the task for our ability to keep each other calm, and because we were generally less destructive when continually frustrated by a puzzle. This crib was about to ruin that reputation.

"Okay, maybe we should just start over from the beginning," I said, sitting up and turning to face Cassian after our brief rest. "Like, take everything apart and lay it all out on the floor again, then start back from step one."

Cassian groaned. "Honestly, I hate that idea. But what we're already doing clearing isn't working, so..."

"So let's try it. Deep breaths, and then a total reset. A fresh start."

"...Alright. Let's do it."

With a lot of heavy sighing, Cassian and I took apart what little progress we'd made, separating the crib back into its individual parts, the way it had come. Once we got it all laid out again, I took the instruction manual from Cass and laid that out in front of us, too. With one last deep breath, we started in again at step one on page one.

I wish I could say this attempt went better. But it didn't. Cassian and I almost destroyed the whole thing Az-style in a fit of frustration three times each, one of us barely managing to pull the other back every time. We were just lucky our destructive streaks never lined up, or the pieces of the crib before us would've already become nothing more than a pile of ash.

"Alright, that's it!" Cass finally shouted, standing up abruptly from where we'd been trying to wrestle together the corners of the crib with no luck, despite using both our strength at once. "I'll be right back."

"What?" I flung my arms out to either side of me as Cassian headed for the door. "You're abandoning me? Seriously?"

"Not abandoning! Changing tactics."

Before I could ask for clarification, Cassian was out the door. I stared after him, waiting for him to reappear or say he was kidding or something, but he didn't. I huffed, then shook my head and turned back to the crib, its pieces still mostly laid out on the floor.

I sat there and stared at the pieces for a few long beats, contemplating my next move. Honestly, I'd just about decided to throw them out the window and tell Rhys the thing'd never been here when the door came swinging open again.

I turned to find Cassian striding towards me, the confidence and determination back in his step. I raised an eyebrow at him, but he just grinned.

"I've solved all our problems."

I snorted, but smiled at Cassian all the same as he came to a stop before me. The fact that he'd managed to make me laugh at all in the middle of this nonsense was exactly why we were mates, and it made me love him even more.

"Cass, you know I love you, and you know I trust you, but... I'm having a hard time seeing how that could possibly be true. Unless you convinced Mor to take over for us...?"

"No, but just as good." I raised an eyebrow, and Cassian's grin widened as he dropped down next to me. Slowly, from behind his back, he pulled out a hammer, tape, and a few other supplies.

I just stared at everything for a moment, then snorted and leanded into Cassian. I closed my eyes and shook my head.

"Babe... we can't use that stuff to put this crib together."

"Why not?"

"Because it won't be sturdy enough! We don't want it to give out while the baby's in it. We both know we can't risk that."

Cassian hummed, rocking forward just enough to get a few of the pieces of the crib into his hands. He lined them up like we'd been doing all day, then raised the hammer in his other hand.

"Maybe you're right about the tape," he said. "But all we need to fix this is a little extra power. We can't force it together with our strength alone, so we'll use a hammer."

"Cass-"

Before I could get another word out, Cassian swung the hammer. I could see him putting his full Illyrian strength into it, and sure enough, the pieces whacked together. Unfortunately for us, they also splintered into more pieces than would be fixable, even with tape.

Cassian and I just stared at the wreckage for a moment, neither of us speaking. Cassian was the one to break first.

"Shit."

I laughed, all the stress and ridiculousness of the past few hours disappearing along with our hopes of actually succeeding at our task. I leaned into Cassian, and a moment later, he joined me.

"Well, that didn't go like I was hoping," sighed Cassian. I laughed again.

"Really? That's not what you were going for?"

"Not quite."

We shared a smile, then slumped back together, Cassian's arm around my waist as I leaned into his chest. I sighed, staring at the ruins of the crib before us. Not a single part of me wanted to do something about fixing it.

"So... how about we call Mor and find a way to pass this on to her?"

I laughed, then nodded as I leaned even further into Cassian.

"Baby, I was thinking the same thing. You, me, and Az have had to tear our hair out over this thing already, I think it's her turn."

"And even better, if any of us has to call Amren in, it'll be Mor."

"Exactly."

****************

Everything Taglist: @rosecentury @kmc1989 @space-helen @misshale21

Maasverse Taglist: @lilah-asteria

70 notes · View notes

middlingmay · 3 months ago

Note

Birthday sex? Its Austin's birthday tomorrow so perfect occasion

Anon! I'm sorry this took me so long.

A while ago I asked for ideas for sexy scenes so I could practice writing them. Two of them helped me with an idea I've been kicking around for a while, and well. Here it is.

Bucky wears stockings, and Buck knows exactly how to feel about it.

It follows on several months after my Gale Cleven Never Learned to Flirt fic.

7K words of the spiciest thing I think I've ever written. Enjoy (if you're over 18).

It was March. The nip in the air had lost most of its bite, but it still nibbled at the tips of your fingers and ears and nose. It shot a draft up any nook and cranny it could if you didn’t wrap up tight enough. It was rarely a problem for John. The military get up was top heavy. Always had been. After the Stalag it was one of the few things that kept his feet on the ground, so to speak, when the winter came around.

But the bottom half of a fella? Protected only by wool slacks and some socks and whatever underwear you were able to fit under it? There was a reason the boys on base stamped their legs when they came in from the cold. John knew his own legs had borne the brunt of the bad weather more than once.

But today John felt pretty toasty down there. It was a delightfully unintended side affect of this whole endeavour.

He’d wanted to do this sooner. Ever since last summer when Gale had let it slip. But the logistics were surprisingly difficult, and in the end he’d had to resort to some identity theft and prayed his older sister didn’t ever come to town and need to use that particular store.

Besides, they had something special to celebrate in March, so it all worked out.

Why he’d worn them to work, John still couldn’t quite explain to himself. He’d wanted to try them on, and they had looked so seamless under the bulk of his uniform that he just…hadn’t taken them off.

He wore them as he was hailed and saluted by the junior ranks when he arrived on base. He wore them when he and the other COs had their morning briefing and shared some smokes over their morning coffee. He wore them when arguing with Vickers about the game. He wore them when he reamed out a cadet for trying to take a plane on a joyride—the very same thing he and Buck had done when they were reckless kids.

And it had…done something for him. Maybe it was just because it was taboo, and it always tickled John to push at boundaries and see what he could get away with. Maybe he liked having a secret when everyone called him an open book (he wasn’t; not since coming back state side, not to anyone but Buck). Maybe he liked the duplicity of it. On one hand, the Lieutenant Colonel. On the other, the degenerate.

Or maybe it was none of that psychological bullshit at all. John had never worn silk before today, with the exception of a tie or a handkerchief or a parachute. But fuck if it didn’t feel nice against his skin. Against all of his skin.

He’d requested an early finish today to he could beat Buck home, and it was a good thing, too. The closer it came to finishing time, the harder it was for John to keep his composure.

He and Gale had come a long way since they made that final step in their physical relationship. John had been so frightened of pushing. He had assumed that Gale needed time to acclimatise to wanting a man like that, wanting John like that. But he’d been terrifically, blessedly wrong, and Gale had been wanting for longer than John had ever realised. They never balked at asking each other to try something new, but Gale had never revisited what he’d mentioned that day he mounted John in the living room, taking what he wanted.

But John would give Gale anything. Including this. His Buck might be a little unsure, might be a little hesitant to go for it, shy about his desires, but John would get him there. John would guide Gale’s hands to his thighs so his fingers could tickle at the hems. He’d show Gale how to grip his waist without risking the clasps coming undone. He’d walk him through just how tight he could pull the straps without them breaking. He’d show him how to be gentle so he didn’t rip the silk.

He’d show him everything.

But first, dinner.

Gale was the cook in their household. Through sheer determination John had started to take up baking. He’d only just managed to make barely passable cookies, and that was because he threw a frankly scandalous amount of sugar in there and loaded them up with chunky chocolate chips that hid a multitude of sins. But when it came to making actual meals, he was hopeless. He could boil water, heat soup, peel vegetables and fry bacon in the pan. But anything more complicated than that was Gale’s far more patient, focused, and diligent domain.

But not tonight. Tonight John had the jump on him.

He pulled up outside Jenny’s. They kept in touch with Macon (and Jefferson, though he was more Gale’s pen pal than John’s, pair of know-it-all's), and it turned out he had a friend who’s wife had a restaurant out here. Her husband hadn’t made it back, but before he left he’d promised her that after the war they were going to start the restaurant they’d always dreamed of. So she’d gone and done it for both of them, and she served some of the best food John had ever eaten. It was Gale’s number one choice every time he got to pick where they went out for dinner.

He’d called ahead and placed his order, and Jenny had it waiting for him as he slipped through the door and tried to weave his way through the crush of bodies.

A server waved him down. “Got your food Mr Egan. It’s hot—Jenny just sent it through.”

Louis. A good kid. Sharp kid. John handed him a couple of dollars tip. “I don’t know how she does it, Louis. Woman’s magic.”

“Don’t I know it.”

John beat a hasty retreat and buckled the bag of food into the passenger seat. It was precious cargo, and their night was not going to go the way John wanted if he let anything happen to dinner from Jenny’s.

He got home with fifteen minutes to spare. Plenty of time to change into fresh clothes and plate up.

He was just pouring himself some wine and Gale some cordial when the man himself walked in the door. His satchel looked heavy over his shoulder and his cheeks were pink from the evening chill. John was already smiling like a goddamn idiot just looking at him.

When Gale saw him standing next to a fully laid table complete with one solitary candle and smelled that tell tale aroma, he shucked his coat and his bag with a rarely seen haste.

“Did you get dinner? From Jenny’s?”

“Mhm,” John trilled sing-song and smug. “Your favourite.”

Gale inhaled a lungful and moaned like he could already taste it from the smell alone. His hands floated to John’s waist as he looked longingly at the food, and John managed to quickly set his hands further up his ribs without him noticing the redirection.

“What’s the special occassion?” Gale pulled him close and pressed their foreheads together. “S’nice.”

John grinned wide and toothy. “Happy birthday.”

Gale pulled back, brows furrowed and tick of a smile playing at his lips. “My birthday was in December.”

Didn’t he know it. It had been miserable this year. A couple days before Christmas and right as a cold snap had hit them. It was the coldest the year had been so far, and they’d barely had it in them to celebrate. Instead they’d cooked as much food as they could, piled the fire high and burrowed themselves under blankets and pillows and each other. They’re refused to allow a single pang of hunger or chill of the cold get anywhere near them.

“Gale Cleven’s birthday was in December,” John corrected him. “Buck’s is in March.”

Realisation dawned with eyes sparkling like the sea in broad daylight from the cockpit of a B-17.

“We met in March 19—”

“1940. Happy seventh birthday, Buck.”

Gale wrapped his arms around John’s neck and kissed him slow and sweet. Warm like the glow of the fire they enjoyed in winter evenings. There was the barest, slightest hint of a pull, like Gale had to stop himself from drawing John’s lips into his mouth, into the waiting nip of his teeth.

He pulled back and set his forehead against John’s, his own smile a goofy match. “You’re a sap, John Egan.”

“Your sap.”

John got one more kiss before Gale was pulling away eagerly sitting down to their meal. To this day, watching Gale eat hale and hearty filled John with a joy he couldn’t quite describe.

Their meal passed with pleasant chatter, mostly led by Gale between bites as John tried to keep his focus on the good food and better company. But in his excitement, and a little nervousness, his leg was bouncing. And he could feel the slip of silk against his skin again.

“You haven’t paid attention to a word I said, have you?”

John’s eyes snapped back to Gale’s, who was trying not to laugh at him.

“Am I boring you?”

John licked his lip. “Far from it.”

Draining the last of his drink, Gale got up and stepped around the table to stand before John. John’s legs opened to let Gale slip between them. He tilted his head back as far as it could go as Gale stepped as close as he could get.

“Something else on your mind?” Gale’s voice was low and coy. Playful. John liked him playful.

“I got something else for you.” John tipped forward and kissed the flat of Gale’s stomach through his shirt, softer on account of their meal. “But it’s not for out here.”

That pricked at Gale’s curiosity. John wasn't one of those folks who thought sex was between them, the bedroom, and the Lord. They’d made it in every room in the house. So, for him to confine it to the bedroom tonight. Well, Gale wanted to know. Needed to know.

“Alright then. Take me upstairs.”

John obeyed the one and only command he expected Gale to be able utter tonight. They had an equal amount of give and take when it came to sex. They both liked being in charge and giving it up depending on their mood. But John knew this was going to be so far outside of Gale’s experience that he’d be the one leading tonight. And he liked the thought. Loved it, even, of being the steady hand behind Gale’s pleasure.

Inside their room, John flipped the lock and Gale’s brows kissed his hairline. But before Gale could ask the questions John could see brewing in that big ol’ noggin, he leaned against the door, hands clasped behind his back and pushed his hips out. A summons Gale had never been able to refuse.

And he didn’t now.

Gale's long, supple hands gripped his hips with a strength that always sent John into a tail spin. People saw Gale’s pretty face and often jumped to the wrong conclusions. He was wicked, sharp, fast, and strong, and more than capable of putting John down when he had to. It was a heady thrill to have that type of strength panting for you, whimpering for you. And that was John’s goal by the end of the night.

Gale swept his hands round to cup and grab at John’s ass, but John laced their fingers together before he could get there. “You missed something,” he said, drawing Gale’s hands up towards his waist.

Gale's pout was cute, and John wanted to pull at it with his teeth. But he wouldn't do anything to miss this moment. He didn’t even blink as Gale touched and traced and explored his body until he caught it. There. A deepening crease between his eyes as Gale felt something covering the thick, meaty softness of John’s waist. He watched Gale’s eyes close as he concentrated, following the line as he figured out it went all the way around. He watched Gale look down as he tried to gauge the thickness of it.

Then he watched that gorgeous fuckin’ mouth drop open and heard the sharp hitch of breath as Gale realised what he was touching.

“You didn’t think I forgot, did you?”

Gale’s fingers dug in. A couple of them slipped under the top of the garter belt, taking fingerfulls of John’s shirt with it. Quick puffs of air fell against John’s lips and Gale’s eyes were wide and unfocused as he stared at John’s waist.

“Hey, it’s okay.” John stroked up Gale’s arms until he could cup Gale’s neck and squeezed it in a soothing beat. “I know it’s new. But we don't have to do anything you’re uncomfortable with. And I’ll talk you throu—”

“John.” It was said with a bolt of steel that straightened John’s spine. He hadn’t heard that voice come out of Gale since they’d last disciplined replacements together in England. It had his cock hard and throbbing behind the delicate little panties so quick he near felt dizzy.

“You’ll talk when you’re spoken to. Do you understand?”

The door clacked as John slumped back against it. He felt a fine tremor start to warm and thrum in the muscles of his thighs. He wondered if Gale could see it? The way his eyes were focused on John like Gale was some great prowling beast and John the tasty morsel made him feel like Gale could see right through John's clothes, to the treat that awaited him.

Gale dragged his fingers, still just easing past the eaves of the garter belt, over the fabric on John’s shirt, around to the divots of his waist. He grabbed a better handful and tugged, testing the tautness, the tension, and the pull. Then John was yanked forward by his waist, the belt biting into his skin and straining under the strength of Gale’s hands. The pinch of the fabric had him gasping against Gale’s mouth as he smirked at John.

“I said, do you understand. Doll?”

John’s mouth fell open and a groan fell out. He let it roll out on his tongue as he tried to slip it against the petal-like softness of Gale’s lips. But Gale saw it coming and pulled back, and John tried not to whine like a dog.

Because he didn’t understand. He didn’t understand at all. He was supposed to help Gale fulfill one of his fantasies. He was supposed to lead and guide Gale through the experience and help him discover new realms of pleasure. He was going to watch Gale fall apart because of him.

But that wasn’t the Gale staring down at him now as he leaned into John’s space and had his back arching against the door. This Gale was in charge, in control, and ready to order his subordinate at his will.

How many women had John called doll in his lifetime? How many times had he said it to Gale and watched his cheeks pinken and eyes darken?

But oh, he got it now.

John nodded so hard his head smacked against the door, and Gale chuckled low and syrupy.

“Easy, sweetheart. Need you clear headed for this. For now.”

That’ll be a fuckin’ miracle, John thought.

Gale stepped back and John went to follow until a sharp click in Gale’s throat stopped him dead. Gale retreated backwards to the bed, eyes fixed on John, thumbing open the buttons of his shirt collar until the back of his knees touched the bed.

Slowly, he sank down with his legs spread wide, almost obscene like the way young men do when they have something to prove. But Gale didn’t have to prove a damn thing. He just wanted John’s attention, and he had it. John eyed the endless stretch of Gale’s legs, perfect for wrapping around his waist, or hooking over his shoulder, or driving John were Gale wanted him as he flexed his thighs. John knew their valleys intimately, from the delicate knob of his ankle to the mouth-watering bulge of his cock.

But John didn’t see that bulge now. He stamped down the little flash of disappointment that sparked up. He’d just have to work a little harder. Gale hadn’t seen anything yet, after all.

“You said you got a treat for me?” Gale’s voice was that deep and trembling bass he got that tightened John’s skin and made his insides quiver.

“Yeah,” he barely managed to whisper.

“Show me.”

John had never been one for following orders. But he’d never balk at Gale’s. That particular command gave him some of his Egan charm and bravado rushing back. A natural born showman, he was. And his man wanted a performance.

If he knew tonight was going to go in this direction, he would have found a good station on the radio, or put the record player on loud enough to filter up to the bedroom. But as it was, the only music he had was the warm creak of well-worn, trodden-soft floorboards; the soft shushing slip of his clothes as he ran his fingers down the length of his chest, into the v of his hips, into the flesh of his thighs. His only rhythm was the hammering of his heart, the breaths that hitched and gasped no matter how hard he tried to control them, and Gale’s minute shifts on the bed that sounded deafening tucked away secret in their room.

John traced his fingers back up from his knees to his hips, and he caught Gale’s finger stroking the bedsheets as he watched. John snagged the edges of his shirt and, using the flat of his palm just like he did doing yard work on a hot day, rucked the bottom of his shirt up to show Gale a flash of skin he loved so well. There was barely a day that went by that John didn't have some form of love bite fading on the skin of his belly.

But he showed Gale much more than that. After his rough handling earlier, one side of the garter belt had risen and settle higher on his hip, and now it peeked above the band of John’s slacks. John hadn't liked the belts that looked like a bolt of stretched, shiny fabric. Instead, he’d gotten one with semi-transparent windows against his flesh that let the pale skin peek through the opaque blackness. Stiff, geometric lines ran parallel, and pierced and broke up those glimpses. Gale was going to love it.

Gale’s hands clutched the covers underneath him in bunches as he glimpsed the little peek of the belt jutting over his hip, before John let his shirt fall back.

Gale’s eyes snapped to him and John caught the briefest flash of not-quite-anger, but heat. It was John’s favourite thing: testing that famous Cleven patience until it broke. Because Gale broke good.

“I said show me, John. Don’t make me repeat myself.”

John’s cock had been straining against the lake and silk on his panties for a while now. But the edge in Gale’s voice, the demand tinged with a hint of desperation? It jerked near painfully against its delicate confines, and John felt the sticky drops of his precum leak between flesh and silk, melding them together.

Fuck, he wanted to make Gale repeat himself.

His fingers trembled as he undid his shirt, button by button. He made sure to touch and pet each inch of skin as he slowly peeled his shirt open down the middle. He toyed on the last button a little, fingered the curve of it, rubbed it against his belly, until Gale leaned forward and opened his mouth to tell John off. But John didn’t let him get there. With a flick he undid the last button, but caught the edges of his shirt before they could fall away and it stole up Gale’s breath just like it snatched away what the younger man really wanted.

Holding the bottom corners of his shirt in one hand, John teasingly drew them down his torso and dipped them into the top of his slacks. He held his hand there a second, and pulled the shirt down tighter, stretching the fabric against the width of his shoulders and the expanse of his chest which he knew Gale loved. But the temptation was too much. He’d been achingly hard since Gale got the drop on him and it was right there. John pushed his hand down further before Gale could tell him to stop and almost sobbed as he pressed into the coil of his cock stuffed into too-small panties.

“Stop, John.”

John’s laugh was breathy and high. No fuckin’ way was he going to stop at the barest hint of relief. If he didn’t give himself something, he was going to blow untouched like some green kid.

But Gale wasn’t playing, and his next words were laden heavy with warning. “I said. Stop.”

John did, but didn’t remove his hand. Gale’s eyes were dark and hard and glinting with a side he didn’t trust anyone but John with. But God, John was desperate. It was no secret that he loved attention, but being under Gale’s scrutiny like this was almost too much. Almost.

“Please, Buck,” he sighed, shameless in his need. “I can’t… I just need a little…” He trailed off into a groan as his hand cupped and caressed his cock again.

He managed to open his eyes and Gale was half way to him from the bed. He was glowering, disappointed in John, and his jaw was tight.

Christ. He was in trouble, now.

Without a word, without looking away from John’s eyes, Gale pulled on John’s wrist and yanked his hand out of his pants. The fabric of his slacks roughed up John’s hand a little and he hummed at the pleasant burn. He went to rub it gently with his other, but Gale snatched that one up too and held them tight and unforgiving.

He gently knocked his forehead into John’s and let the tips of their noses brush.

“I know you can listen better than that, John. You wanna be good for me, don’t you?”

John grit his teeth. He did. He did want to be good. He always wanted to make it good for his Buck. But he wasn’t sure he could, he was so worked up. It had been building all day, bubbling and simmering and ready to boil over with just the slightest crank in the heat.

And Gale hadn’t even kissed him yet. Not since they came into the bedroom. Had barely touched him. John dared to pant into Gale’s mouth, but no further.

“Please, Buck.”

Gale tutted, the clack of his tongue like lead shot in his belly. “Poor baby. You just need a little help, right sugar?”

God, yes. He just needed Gale to touch him, just enough. Just until his head stopped swimming and he could do for Gale what he’d been planning all day.

Gently, like he might if John were a woman, Gale kissed him. Short, sweet, feather light kisses at first. And when John pushed harder, he allowed it. He pushed John’s hands behind his back and squeezed his wrists; a silent command to keep them there. But he would. He could be good now Gale was giving him something.

Gale let the very tips of their tongues touch in the barest hint of a caress before he gentled the kiss again. John keened but drank up every taste of Gale’s lips he could get, all sweet with cordial. Gale’s hands slid up his chest and over his shoulders and dragged John’s shirt down and down. John sighed into Gale’s mouth with relief. He’d foregone an undershirt when he changed after coming home from work, and was grateful for it now. The air of the room was cool against his heated skin, and he felt it tighten with goosebumps and shivered pleasantly.

Gale kissed his way from the corner of John’s mouth along the square jut of his jaw and down the thick column of his neck. John bared it all until he felt the skin stretch across the base of his throat with a tightness that told you that was enough. Gale suckled and nibbled on John’s skin just, just, below where his shirt collars sat. He tugged and tugged and John’s shirt, and John wriggled and helped him get it down to his wrists.

And he felt the pearly hardness of Gale’s teeth against his neck as he grinned.

“Atta boy, Johnny.”

Gale grabbed John’s shirt tight and yanked and pulled and twisted. John couldn’t see what he was doing, but when he was finished, wearing a pleased, satisfied smile as he took John’s face in his hands and kissed him sweet and full, John went to draw up his own hands so he could touched the beautiful planes of Gale’s face. But they were stuck fast.

Gale pulled back and his smirk was a small and wicked thing.

“You needed help,” he said and John tugged fruitlessly at the bond Gale had made of his shirt around his wrists. “That should help you behave.”

The groan that kicked out of John’s chest was bestial. He bit down hard on his lip and slumped into Gale, who laughed at him and petted his hair.

“It’s not too tight,” he asked, kissing the shell of John’s ear.

John shook his head dumbly against Gale’s shoulder.

“Mm. Good.”

John’s stomach swooped, that pleasant, almost arousing way it did on your first flight, as Gale ducked suddenly and John was left swaying there, trying to keep himself steady. But seeing Gale Cleven on his knees in front of you, smiling like the devil incarnate with fingertips plucking at the teeth and tongue of your belt, was as far from steady as a man could get.

Gale made mercifully short work of John’s belt. His button was yanked open so hard John thought it might pop, and his zipper was thurst harshly down. Gale shoved John’s slacks over his hips, and—

And stopped.

Gale could see the garter belt now. He traced those pretty black geometric lines with his fingers. He scratched along where it met the skin of John’s torso. He thumbed the opaque segments like he was testing to see if he could really feel John’s skin through them.

Then he unwrapped John like he was the birthday present he’d been waiting for all day. Gale carefully tugged John’s slacks down so he could see the ties properly. Strips of silk with tiny delicate bows stitched on. Gale tumbled forward on his knees like he was drunk, and nosed the line they ran from the garter belt down into spaces still hidden by John’s clothing. Gale nuzzled so close that the ties pressed into his skin.

John felt his panting breaths in the crook where his belly met his groin. He felt wet heat pulse from his cock and thanked God his hands were tied, because otherwise he may have grabbed a handful of Gale’s hair and put him to work.

“S’pretty, John,” Gale whispered, reverent and adoring. John felt it like the zap of a live wire. His whole body flushed, and there was very little left on him to hide it. He’d never been called pretty a day in his life.

Gale eased John’s slacks over the sizeable curve of his ass and down his thighs, until finally John’s panties were revealed and the very tips of the stockings. And that seemed all Gale could take. He fell face first onto John’s silk covered cock with a pained, eager sound. His hands scrabbled to pull John’s trousers off the rest of the way, shoving them down to John’s ankles and cursing when he had to pull away to tear Bucky’s socks off, too.

Until finally, John stood before a worshipful Gale, garter belt tight around his waist, ties good and tight, panties straining and wet, and stockings encasing his thick thighs and strong, long legs.

Suddenly, Gale’s eyes were large and wide and shiny wet. His lips pouty and half open. Like he might cry. “I don’t…” He shook his head as he gazed at John. “I don’t know how to deserve you, John Egan. I don’t know how…”

Gale’s hands grasped desperately at John’s legs, stroking and slipping all over the silk stockings. He was untethered, unmoored, and John had the passing thought that it was good neither of the joined the navy since they both needed anchoring so bad.

John gave Gale a slow crooked smile. “Just breathe, baby. That’s all.”

Gale closed his eyes and something wild tore out of John when Gale bit at the edge of his panties and pulled at them with his teeth until they snapped back into place with a sting.

Then John was in the air. Gale grabbed John’s thighs and bolted upright, hauling John over his shoulder. John yelped at the display of strength, positive Gale could feel the way his cock throbbed against his shoulder. He felt Gale’s hands worry at the panty line on his ass and land a hard, solid smack on the exposed flesh around the triangle of silk that hardly covered his ass. Then his world was tilting and Gale threw him on the bed. When John looked up at him, bouncing on the mattress, arms still behind his back, Gale’s eyes were raw and wild.

“Just breathe,” he repeated John’s words back at him as he petted the top of the stockings. “You best remember that.”

He slipped his hands underneath John’s arms and sat him up. A few rearrangements later and John was being pushed against a soft wall of pillows so he could look comfortably down to where Gale sat between his sprawling legs.

“Comfy?”

John tugged at his bindings. They were tight but not painful. And he had enough movement that his shoulders and elbows didn’t bear the strain.

“Like a kitten on a cloud.”

Gale gave him his favourite smile, apple-cheeked and from under lowered lashes. It made John want to grab and squeeze and bite him. But he couldn’t do any of that right now and had to lie there under Gale’s weighty, considering gaze and take whatever he was about to be given.

Gale's hands smoothed over John’s chest. His fingers traced under the ridge of his collar bones. The heel of his hands pressed into the bud of John’s nipples, dragging against them in their exploration and John arched his back and pushed into it. Gale dragged his nails down John’s ribs and it made him squirm and wiggle, but with the way Gale had him boxed in and trapped on the bed he had no where to go. So he had to writhe and tremble and take it, the slight scratch of pain the only thing keeping him from losing his mind.

Gale's hands finally came to rest at John’s hips, and his thumbs rubbed soothing circles into his hipbones. And John knew what came next. If he knew anything, he knew what came next.

Gale swooped down and mouthed over soft, giving skin of John’s stomach. John moaned his relief loud and unrepentant, gratified there was at least one thing he’d been able to predict about tonight.

The bite of Gale’s teeth rained down with his mouthing kisses. A shiny, slick trail dotted Gale’s path around the proof of their recovery over the past couple of years. He sucked in mouthfuls of John’s flesh until the skin tingled and throbbed and red and purpling patches staked his claim.

“You know," Gale murmured between tastes. "Some of the guys at college brag about how tight their girls can cinch their waists. I couldn’t help but find that strange.” He wrapped his long hands around John’s waist, something pleasant rumbling in his chest when they came nowhere close to touching. “Why would you brag about your girl going hungry? Hm? Wanna keep you full, John. Want my girl’s waist nice and thick and strong. So I know I’m sating her good.”

In more ways than one, John hoped. “Please,” he hissed and Gale’s hand’s dug tighter into his waist. “You do. You do. So good, Buck. Take such good care of me. Please—”

Gale cut him off with a kiss, a good and real kiss, and John felt the wet roll of moisture falling from the corner of his eyes that he hadn’t realised had been building. He wanted to wrap his arms around Gale, to bury his fingers in his hair and trace the sharpness of his jaw, but his hands were still tied uselessly behind him. So he could only sit there as Gale tilted his head back and pressed him as far into the pillows as he could get and kissed him deeper. The tip of his tongue dragged all the way down to the crest of John’s, right at that ridge that took the plunge down into John’s throat. Gale licked the underside of his tongue on his way back, sucking it into his mouth, then nipping on John’s lips, before plundering him all over again.

John could scarce breathe. He didn’t want to, if this was how he was going to go. It wasn’t until one of Gale’s hands pushed hard down on John’s hips that he realised he’d been rutting like an animal, fruitlessly trying to get some friction against Gale but meeting air.

Gale pulled back with one last tug on John's lip and said, “I think I’d like my present now.”

John fell back with a flump. His eyes followed Gale’s hands. They moved up first to tug and yank on the garter belt a little and see how far he could lift John with it. The muscles in Gale’s forearm flexed as he tested it, and finally dropped John back down with a satisfied smile. Then his hands smoothed over the dotted mess he’d made of John’s belly. And just when John thought Gale was finally going to touch him, was finally going to bring him some kind of relief he needed so badly, Gale swerved his hands around the triangle of John’s panties to scrape down his thighs instead.

John swore and lifted his leg to kick at Gale, but he caught him easy.

“Be nice,” he drawled and pressed his thumb into the arch of John’s foot.

“You be nice! I’m dying, here.” Gale looked down to where John’s cock had made a valiant effort to escape his underwear. The flushed, red head peeked out from the bottom, pressed between his thigh, the silk, and John’s balls which had drawn tight, below.

“I can see that. But this was for me, wasn’t it?”

John bit his tongue and groaned harsh and grumbling.

“Wasn’t it?”

John sulked. “Yes.”

“Yes what?”

Another splatter of moisture fell from him and dropped onto the hairs on his thigh. “Yes, sir.”

Gale grinned sharp and toothy, and raised the leg he still held to his shoulder.

Heedless of John’s predicament, Gale turned his face, now lax and blissful, to rub his cheek against John’s ankle. Gently he kissed the bone and mouthed the silk of the stockings, catching that little piece of extra fabric that stretched between the peak of the ankle bone and the flat of his leg between the blunt edges of his front teeth. Just a bite then he let it go, before chasing it with his tongue, swirling around the bony mound and feeling the texture of the stockings.

John had never noticed before with how Gale was so appreciative of every part of him. But he was starting to get the suspicion that his fella might, might, be a leg man.

Gale’s fingers traced down the line of the seam, humming in approval at the military precision of its straightness. Resting John’s leg on his shoulder, he thumbed at the crook of John’s knee with one hand, and with the other kneaded the tense, hard muscles of John’s calf.

The noise John let out was wounded and obscene. “Holy—fuck, Buck. Oh…God that’s good.”

Gale continued to take John apart, teasing the tension out of his muscles and pushing mercilessly down on any knots he found. John was dragging air in through his teeth, whimpering and yelling when Gale locked on a particularly tender knot. And the whole time a constant trickle of viscous, warm pre dropped from his cock and collected in valley of his panties. It had built to the point that every time he shifted, he felt the sticky, squidgy mess against his balls and his taint. He was wet like a woman and Gale hadn’t even touched him there yet.

Gale pressed those lush, plump lips of his in an adoring trail up the inside of John’s leg. He licked and bit, careful not to snag the stockings. When he reached the hem, where black silk gave away to the creamy paleness of John’s thigh dotted with glossy black coils of hair, Gale moaned low in his throat and pushed his face into the crook between thigh and groin. John desperately snatched Gale up in the vice of his thighs and tried to drag him closer to his cock. And for one glorious moment, Gale allowed it. He tipped open-mouthed onto John’s satin covered cock until he could feel the lapping of Gale's tongue against the panties.

“Fuck, Gale, please. That’s it—right there.”

Gale moaned against him and the vibrations kicked John's belly to quivering and his thighs starting shaking, too. God he was going to embarrass himself but it’s be worth it. So fuckin’ worth it—

Gale tore his face away, breathing heavy and climbed back up the length of John's body. No mean feat as John, furious and choking on his own arousal, tried to drag him back down with the power of his legs alone.

But the kiss Gale gave him soothed him some, filthy and wet and slick, and with none of the finesse they’d learned over the years.

“John,” he rumbled into the underside of his jaw. “God, the things you do to me.” He rolled his hips hard against John’s, and his belly dropped so sharp he was sure he was about to come.

“Gale. I—I—”

A piercing sting nipped at the lobe of John’s ear then Gale’s voice was murmuring against him, sending tremors down his body. “You’re right there, aren’t you, John? Right fucking there. Me too, baby. Know how good you look? Fuck, me too.”

But just as John teetered on that precipice, as his eyes blurred with tears of pleasure, Gale stopped and pulled away, and John let out an embarrassing squeal.

“No! No, no, Gale, I was—I was—”

“Shh, shh, shh,” Gale soothed him, petting hair damp with sweat. “I know.” He rained kisses along his forehead. “Just a little longer, yeah. Wanna get a good look at you.”

He dropped a final kiss to John's nose and leaned back, kneeling between John’s thighs high on his waist, thumbing the sides of the panties.

“I’ll be sorry to lose, ‘em.” Gale eyed the thick band at the top of John’s stockings, lingering on where the clips bit into the fabric and pulled at them, keeping them up. They’d performed a valiant service this evening, but their time had come. “But I think you’ve been patient enough.”

With a fierce yank, the render of ripping fabric pierced the room as Gale yanked the clips out of the stockings, ripping the delicate silk. It tore another groan out of John and seemed to finally unseat Gale’s patience. He shoved the garter belt higher up John’s waist, and tore his stockings down, deepening the rips. The way Gale’s hands tightened over the split fabric, John came to the heady realisation that Gale had done it on purpose.

And then finally, finally, Gale tucked his fingers into John’s panties and pulled them down.

The air hitting his cock had John gasping and thrusting into nothing. He heard Gale choke on his own breath before he pushed John’s hips down with his palm, soothing him like he would an animal.

When John could focus enough to look at him, Gale was gazing at him with nothing short of wonder.

“Shit, look at you John.” Gale marvelled over the mess he’d made of himself. “You look like you’ve come already.” God, he might have. This whole time leaking in a steady stream of unbearable heat, maybe he’d been coming the whole time.

“Gale for God—fuckin’ please. I can’t take this. I can’t take this anymore. I’m begging ya. I’ll do anything.”

And Gale, eyes wide and brimming with something heady, something he kept banked and rarely let blaze out like this, and looking fucking ruined for it, shoved the blunt of his knee up into John’s crotch. The perfect mixture of blinding pressure and the tiniest pinch of skin, and John was writhing and thrashing, getting every ounce of friction he could take. He didn't even know what sounds were coming out of his mouth—babbling, whining, shrieking, it didn’t matter so long as Gale didn’t stop.

And thank God this time he wasn’t going to. Gale’s own crotch was mercy to John’s frantic, frenzied movement. He trembled down the length of his spine and the slender curve of his legs. His arms shook where he held himself over John. He felt his lips quiver as the heat bubbling in his gut frothed and spat and he felt the tingling at the base of his spine that told him his end was coming. But God, he’d see John there first. He would.

He weaved a hand into John’s hair and yanked his ear up to his mouth. “You’re so goddamn beautiful baby. My woman, getting all pretty for me? I nearly came at the damn sight of you. While all the fellas at college are complaining about their girls, I get to tell them how mine fed my favourite meal and served it in silk.”

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ, Buck.”

He felt the solid lines of John’s body start to lock. His back arched in a deep valley. All tell tale signs Gale knew like a bedtime story.

“That’s it, sweetheart. That’s it, sugar. Y’look so pretty when you come. Lemme see. Let me—”

For all John’s loudness, Gale had worked him past words. His mouth opened in a silent scream, his lungs ceased to draw in air, and his eyes rolled up past thick lashes as he finally came. Hot spurts of seed lashed over his belly, and Gale drooled at the thought of cleaning him up, a line of spit pooling down into the mess. As Gale kept rocking and pressing into him, John kept coming. When finally dragged in ragged gasping breaths, there wasn’t a bit of him that wasn’t shaking. Gale didn’t want to miss a bit of it, but he was barely able to undo John's bonds with one hand, so he could feel John's touch on him, before his own orgasm hit him. It felt as violent as being torn from a plane. His vision whitened and he used John's body, his jerking, twitching, vulnerable spent body to ride out and milk every last drop from himself, until he mewling, pathetic and sensitive.

John was petting his hair and whispering in his ear when he came back to himself.

“It’s okay. That’s it. I’ve got you. You did so good, Buck. That’s it. You back with me?”

Gale nodded into the crook of John's neck and snuggled closer. He powered through the flinch that rocked both of them as the sensitive skin of their cocks brushed. But nothing could pull him away from John at this moment.

John kissed Gale’s hair and without even looking, Gale could feel the grin against his scalp.

“Happy birthday, Buck.”

“Mm.” Gale felt the loose, hazy drag of sleep put weight in his limbs and on his eyelids. He let them droop shut, but before he let sleep and the warm cradle of John's arms take him, he managed: “John?”

“Mhm?”

“We’re going to need more stockings.”

#clegan #buck x bucky #john egan #gale cleven #mota fanfic #masters of the air fanfic #erm I don't really know what to say here lads #hope you like it??

68 notes · View notes

angelstate · 2 years ago

Text

(Don't) Say You're Sorry, Please.

Pairing: Peter Parker x fem! reader

Genre: Angst, Fluff, Happy Ending!

Warnings: harsh argument, cursing, mention of alcohol and reader getting drunk, explicit emotions, symptoms of mental illness.

Summary: you and peter were no longer happy, it took a big fight, harsh words and some time apart to realize how much love you felt for one another.

Words: 3k!

you didn't know how it got to this point, when the calmness of a silly discussion turned into a heated argument and a silent competition of who could scream harder horrible things to the other.

It got to the point where you had been crying for so long it was hard to breath and your eyes sting every time you blinked, it felt as if your stuck in the middle of a panic attack and couldn't get out of it no matter what you tried to do.

You didn't even remember when everything went wrong and you ended up here, it was like all your memories had been swept away and now there was a recognizable emptiness that the both of you shared.

you knew everything but could remember nothing.

you didn't had what it took to fight like this with Peter. You didn't have the voice, the feelings or the calculated thoughts to defend yourself.

You threw weak attempts of calming the situation but nothing worked so you let the venom that was boiling in your chest spill over and make you say things you would regret.

The love was long forgotten.

"just shut the fuck up, peter! for once in your fucking life shut the fuck up. You aren't the voice of truth all the fucking time, sometimes you are in the wrong, get over it for fucks sake!" You screamed at him and pulled your hair in an attempt to let out some of the anger you felt.

"i should shut up?! You're the one who acts like a fucking bitch all the goddamn time. You are fucking insufferable, i swear to god sometimes i can't fucking understand why i even put up with your shit!" peter screamed back at you, he was pointing at you the entire time. blaming you for this.

"you put up with my shit?! I'm the one who has a fucking super hero for a boyfriend. If anyone is putting up with shit is fucking me!! You always get hurt and put yourself in danger. you run to saves stranger from small fucking crimes, but who takes care of me?! You love playing hero but always end up getting hurt, What is going to take for you to realize that you are not prepared to save anyone!!" You screamed as loud as you could everything that came to your mind.

You were so done with this shit, with the argument, with the super hero bullshit. It was draining, being there to help peter get healthy every time he got hurt stopped being out of love but obligation.

While he took care of the city you were left to take care of him, but who was making the time to take care of you? Nobody. Nobody was taking care of you.

"i'm not prepared?! I have saved the world more than once! I've gone through hell trying to keep everyone save!! Im more than capable of saving people from small shitty crimes!" peter said trough gritted teeth.

"then why, tell why the fuck you can never help me?! Why you can never save me?! Am i not worth your stupid help!!?" you felt tears starting to leave your eyes harder than ever.

You knew that there was no way you could ever recover from this fight and be like you were before; this was a breaking point that was long time coming in the relationship.

"i don't help you?! every second that I'm not being spiderman im by your side fucking teaching you to not fuck up like you always do!" Peter screamed and raised his hand, closed his fist before letting his arm fall back down.

"you are so full of shit" this time you didn't shouted, your voice was trembling and soft, your throat wasn't prepared for any more screaming.

"you are so full of shit, Parker. we are never together, if you're not being spiderman you're busy doing shit to get better at being a super hero. You are never here for me. Im sorry that when i see you after a long time i want to tell you how my life has been. Im so fucking sorry i want you to be here for me." Your eyes filled with tears again your vision was blurry because of it but you didn't let any more tears fall. This wasn't worth the pain.

"im full of shit for being a super hero? Im so sorry if I'm not here because im saving people's life. I have so much shit going on that the last thing i wanna hear is more problems you want me to fix. I am so fucking sorry i can't fix your fucking life, you won't believe how much bigger problems i have to deal with outside of this fucking room" peter spoke his voice was stern.

In that moment, you realized something. You weren't his first priority. You weren't even on the list of things he worried about.

Why were you still here with him? Why haven't you walked away from a place you clearly weren't wanted in?

You loved peter so much to the point you forgot that he should love you too to be together.

"i think we need a break from each other" you whispered and rubbed your eyes to get rid of the tears.

Silence.

Peter didn't said nothing, just stood in the middle of your room looking completely lost. his eyes for the first time tonight filled with tears and his lower lip quivered in what you could only describe as pure sorrow.

"you don't mean that" peter said and tried to get close to you but you took a step back and embraced yourself.

"it's for the best, peter." you reassured him. it was really for the best. This time it had gotten too far to not notice the two of you needed space.

"no no no, I'm sorry, ok? Im really sorry. Please don't break up with me" peter pleaded.

"don't say you're sorry, please. we just need some time alone." you hugged peter one last time.

"we'll fix this, right?" Peter whispered in your ear and tighten his hold on you. It was so hard to let go.

you couldn't respond, no didn't knew if this could be fixed.

peter just took in your silence and kissed you for the last time, just way to promise to not let the relationship die tonight.

___________

Three weeks had passed since the fight.

thinking back to that night felt like a dream, you could feel the guilt of everything you said weight heavier and heavier every day.

You regretted everything you said, every word you let out that night. you may have ruined one of the only good things in your life out of pure selfishness.

peter and you rarely talked, there was nothing to say, no. There was too much to say and that scared the both of you. what if one you had realized the relationship was going to be fixable?

The fear was ingrained in the both of your minds, both of you suffering because of the same fear.

"how is she?" Peter asked mj, who was concentrated eating her lunch.

"your ex girlfriend?" Mj said sarcastically and looked at peter with boredom.

"we didn't broke up" peter said quickly, the title of ex girlfriend made his heart clench in pain.

"she's sad and doesn't look good at all, Parker" she said honestly and looked at her food before continuing.

"if your dumbass checked on her you would know that" she said and took a bite of a mini carrot.

"we are taking some time apart" peter defend himself, it was true but that wasn't the reason he checked up on you. He was scared of seeing what the decision made to you.

He had shattered since that night, crying anytime he was left alone with his thoughts. He feared to see you in a worst condition than he was. Scared to see how his words bruised you.

"yeah? maybe try spend a life time apart because you don't want to see how you left her, Parker." Mj said in bitterness, you were her best friend and seeing you in pain because of him didn't sat right with her. She understood the situation but would always make the people that hurt you hurt too.

Peter just sat there, looking worried and sad.

You were feeling like shit, every inch of your mind was filled with sadness and your body reflected your state of mind so clearly it was embarrassing to go out looking like the human version of sadness.

right now, you were in one of the stalls of the girls bathroom, trying to eat your lunch but you had no appetite, you stopped feeling hungry two weeks ago.

You couldn't eat, so you took supplements like candy, trying to keep your body healthy but it didn't worked. You lost weight and looked pale.

But it didn't really mattered, nothing felt like it mattered. In your mind, you had no reason whatsoever to care about yourself or anything at all.

_____________

It was Friday night and you were drunk as fuck. not in a party, just in the solitude of your living room, lit cigarette in hand and a tall glass filled all the way with pure vodka.

the tv was on, the movie 'The perks of being a Wallflower' playing but the sound acting as a background noise because all your attention was on your phone, waiting for a message from him to pop up.

How much you wished you had the courage to message him first.

You took a big sip from the glass and felt the familiar warm spread in your chest, your empty stomach had been suffering all day and now was experiment the harshest treatment you had ever put it through.

Not even in your high school years you were careless enough to not eat anything before drinking strong alcohol.

"say you're sorry, please?" you whispered to yourself, trying to force yourself to call him, to admit your mistakes and beg for forgiveness.

You spend two hours staring at your phone, all the vodka in you glass had already disappeared and the entire bottle followed soon after; before you even realize it

"I'll say I'm sorry, please forgive me..." you whispered and pressed to call peter. you put the call on speaker and held your phone close to your mouth.

You had your knees to your chest and had wrapped a blanket around yourself, trying to stay calm and collected.

"hello?" Peter answered the call.

"hi...pete" you said, voice dripping evidence of your drunken state.

"how are you, y/n?" he asked and you heard how he sat on his bed from the way the springs made a uncomfortable sound.

"i'm.. I'm drunk" you admitted and laughed a little.

"I, I really wanted to talk to you, pete." you're voice broke, and your eyes glossed over with tears.

"I wanted to talk to you too, flower" the pet name made your heart clench.

"really?" you asked, your tone filled with the warm that the pet name created in your soul.

"yeah, i was thinking about you, i used my telepathic powers and you called" he joked and you giggled.

"thanks for using your powers, pete" you took a deep breath.

"i called because i want to tell you something" you said and heard how peter took a deep breath.

"tell me, flower. Im all ears" he spoke sweetly, so sweetly you felt your heart clench again.

"i just, i wanted to tell you that i'm sorry, i'm really sorry about everything i said when we were fighting." you took a pause and to stop the tears from falling.

"i don't 'up with you', i honestly don't even know why i said that. you are amazing to be around and i was wrong for saying differently. you're a great super hero and the fact that you put yourself in danger and get hurt just to save other people is admirable. You're more than prepared to be the biggest super hero the world has known" you let out a shaky breath, your eyes betrayed you and multiple tears fell from your eyes.

"and you're right, you do help me to not do stupid things. I just...i just feel like i'm not worth it enough of more attention than the one you give me to save me from my stupidity."

"and lastly, you're not full of shit. That's me, not you. I know you have bigger problems than giving me attention just because i feel like im entitled to your time. I feel really guilty for everything i said. Forgive me, please?" You finished speaking.

Peter was speechless, and his heart already broken heart, ended breaking completely when you bed for his forgiveness.

You beg him for forgiveness? how could you feel sorry for saying the things he needed to hear to wake up and realize he wasn't a good boyfriend? You opened his eyes when you spoke up about how abandoned you felt because of him never being there for you.

If anyone should apologize was him.

"flower..." Peter sighed.

"yes?" You responded, voice shaky and anxious.

"I'm sorry for everything i said too. I shouldn't have called you a bitch. You're not insufferable, your the sweetest and loveliest person i have ever met. i'm grateful that i have you in my life."

"and you're right about me never being there to give you anything other than help, i love you and i thought that just because you knew that i didn't have to remind you every day. you have all the right to tell me how you feel or what you're going through and i should always be there to hear you. I know that you don't want me to fix your life or your problems. You only wanted to be heard but i didn't care to listen at the time."

"thanks for believing I'm a great super hero and I'm sorry that I've been saving people without thinking about how me getting hurt so much and running to you to heal me affected you. I've been selfish in our relationship just because i wanted to be selfless and save people. Forgive me, please"

Peter asked and you took a deep breath.

"if i forgive you will you forgive me too?" you asked back, you also wanted to be forgiven.

"of course, flower" peter answered and your heart skipped a beat.

"then, i forgive you, pete." you said and felt a smile forming on your face.

"i forgive you too, flower." Peter smiled too.

All the weight you have been carrying on your shoulders was lifted just like the light on your soul, you could finally live again. No more sorrow and pain.

"I'll see you tomorrow, right?" You asked with hope.

"yeah, we'll see each other tomorrow" peter made the plan of showing up at your apartment tomorrow, make everything right and give you all the affection and time you deserved.

______________

(a few months later)

you were sleeping peacefully in your bed, wrapped up in blankets and softly breathing. It was spring break and you have spent all day cleaning so you were having your well deserved rest.

that was until you starting hearing something hitting your window, being a light sleeper you woke up almost immediately, you checked the time on you phone '01:23am'

Still being half asleep you didn't even thought about what who hitting against your window because it was obvious, you stood up, walked over to the window, opened it and turned around to lie down again in your bed.

"hi baby" you said when you were back in your bed, this time your back against the wall to give peter space to lay down with you.

"hi flower" peter pressed the spider in the middle of his suit making loose and fall of his body.

He picked up the hoodie that was on your desk and put it on before laying down beside you, almost instantly he hugged you and you wrapped one of your legs around his waist to bring him closer to you while one of your arms wrapped around his next. Your free hand started caressing his hair sofly.

"how was night patrol?" you asked, your eyelids already closing in tiredness.

"it was calm, i just helped a few drunk guys get home" peter said and rubbing your back, drawing random shapes with his fingers.

"that's good" you whispered.

"go to sleep, flower." peter whispered against your ear and tighten his hold on your waist making you be totally pressed against him, your face in the crook of his neck.

"goodnight spidey" was the last thing you said before falling asleep.

"goodnight flower, i love you" peter kissed the top of your head before falling asleep too.

The both of you finally being the happy couple you deserved to be. The love you felt for each other was no longer forgotten in the pain of misunderstood emotions, now it was more alive than ever, burning and keeping you warm and safe from all the sorrow you had to go through to be happy with peter again.

Everything was fixed and was better than the first time you started to love each other.

There was no longer pain, just peace and the comfortable bed of love the both of you slept in for the rest of your life.

How beautiful it was to love Peter, forever save in his arms.

#peter parker #peter parker fic #peter parker x fem!reader #peter parker x reader #spiderman #tom holland spiderman #spiderman fic #peter parker angst #peter parker fluff

1K notes · View notes

footballfanficwriter · 1 year ago

Text

The Break up

Summary: I love you but, you hurt me and I can't take it anymore

A/n: requests are open

"Where were you?" I ask getting up from the sofa that I've been sitting on for the past 3 hours

"Out" he says

"Are you drunk?"

"No" he says trying to stand up straight indicating that he is in fact drunk

"Is that a hikey on your neck"

"No...w-w-what are you even doing up at this time" he asks

"Waiting for you to come home so we can go on our date that you promised me we'd go on" I say

"Shit that was today, i forgot"

"Ofcourse you did, like you always do"

"You look very beautiful in that dress by the way"

"Stop, manipulating me"

" I'm not, I'm just complimenting you"

"Oh cut the bullshit Jude, you don't care about me, if you did you'd remember our date and that hickey wouldn't be on your stupid neck"

"Babe I love you, you are my world, I can't live without you"

"I love you too Jude, but how many times have we been down this road?, you Fuck up, you promise not to do it again, I forgive you and you do it all over again"

"Ok fine I promise this is the last, the very last time"

"That's what you said last time"

"Babe please"

"No, if I continue like this, you are literally going to drive me to my death"

"Y/n, please don't do this, I love you"

"I love you too Jude, but you hurt me and I can't take it anymore" I say

I walk to my room and start packing all my clothes in suitcases

"Y/n, you're being dramatic, your blowing things out of proportion"

"I'm blowing things out of proportion?, you know how many times I've cried because of you, how you've made me feel like I can't live without your love, making me feel emotionally dependent on you?, I guess that's my fault cause of how fast I fell for you, how I based my whole life on you"

"Y/n, please darling, I'm begging you, please don't to this".

"It's ok Jude, I understand you've lost feelings for me"

"No I haven't"

"If you haven't like you claim, then you wouldn't have cheated"

He's silent like he's trying to think, that's when he grabs his phone out of her pocket and makes a call, the line connects after a few rings and hear my mother's voice

"Hello?, Mom Y/n is at it again, I can't get her to stop, she's threatening to leave in fact she's packing her clothes right now"

"Give her the phone, darling" she says

He hands me the phone

"Hello"

"What are you doing?" She ask

"Leaving" I say

"But why hunny?"

"Jude has been cheating for more than a year now, and quiet frankly I've reached my breathing point"

"Were you giving him some?"

"Mom, that's private"

"Well judging by your answer, I'm gonna assume it's a no, no wonder why he's cheating on you"

"You're justifying his actions?"

"Just stay darling, a women never leaves her mess, fix your relationship, try harder if you must, do everything in your power to make him happy"

"I can't believe you, you're taking his side?"

"He's very reasonable"

"I can't do this with you mom,I'm coming home"

"No, you're not, if you step foot outside that house, and drive here I will kick you off my property" she says

"You're disowning me"

"If that's what I have to do then yes"

I hang up the phone and toss it onto the bed and continue packing.

I'm leaving, even if it means I'll be living in my car then so be it

"What are you doing"

"Leaving"

"But your mom just sai-

"Get away from me Jude"

"Where are you going to go if you leave the house then"

"That's none of your concern"

I finish packing my things and make my way downstairs, but Jude stops as I'm about to leave the front door

"Get out of my way"

"I love you"

"Get out of my way Jude"

"Darling I love you"

"Don't lie to me, I said get out of my way" i give him a look and he steps aside

And I make it out for the door, but not before and turning back

"So this is really the end?"

"Yeah, it is" I say

"I'm sorry for how I treated you"

"I'm sorry, I wasn't enough for you"

"I love you"

"I love you too" I say and close the door and head to my car

I sit there for a while and and the tears start running down my face eventually I'm a sobbing mess

After slightly composing myself I start the car and leave.

187 notes · View notes

lincolndjarin · 1 year ago

Text

Good Manners

main masterlist ✧ kinktober masterlist ✦

kinktober : day one - afab!agent!reader x dieter bravo

prompt : cock warming [ 18+ mdni ]

word count : 0.8k words

summary : dieter is a brat.

warnings, etc. : cock warming (obvi, but also like barely any LMAO), male masturbation, reader is described as wearing glasses and having manicured nails, sort of sub!dieter

a/n : happy first of october!! can't believe it's finally here!! so uhh if you saw that is was originally day two no you didn't lmao, i'm still editing a lot of them so they're likely to change in order lmao

“You whine too much.” You stare at him over the rim of your glasses that have slipped down your nose.

“If I have to read one more fucking script I’m gonna lose it.” He throws the binder in his hands across the couch.

Not a great sign considering he’s two scripts deep into a pile of well over a dozen.

“Just a few more, then we can order food and take a break.” You’re shuffling through papers trying to sort out his contracts.

Not like he cared about the money.

He only did a movie if he liked the script.

Which he hated reading.

“Can you at least sit closer to me?” His voice shifts up a bit, he gets so nasally when he whines.

There’s a reason you’re on the other couch.

“If I sit closer you won’t get anything done.” You push your glasses up the bridge of your nose, shooting him a warning glare.

“I’m already not getting anything done.” He throws his head back, spreading out on the couch.

“And who’s fault is that?”

“Just come sit with me.” He’s practically throwing a tantrum with the way he stomps his foot and crosses his arms in front of him.

“Use your words Dieter, I know that’s not what you really want, I’m not giving it to you unless you ask properly.” You’ve told him this a hundred times already.

“Come sit on my cock.” He grumbles almost petulantly. You tilt your head down staring at him over your glasses with your eyebrows raised expectantly, when you clear your throat he sits up a little straighter. “Please?”

“You need to work on your manners.” You look down at the spreadsheet you’re struggling to fill out. “Touch yourself, when I’m done with this I’ll deal with you.” You begin chewing the end of your pen as he lets out an obscenely loud moan. “What do we say, Dieter?”

“Thank you.” He’s already shoved his sweatpants halfway down his thighs.

“Thank you, what?”

“Thank you ma’am.” You watch as he enthusiastically spits in his palm.

“Mhmm.” You try your best to return to your work but he isn’t making it easy on you.

Dieter Bravo, the actor that he is, always putting on a show.

You know he’s trying to speed you up and you’d be lying if you said it wasn’t working. Letting his head fall back with a moan straight out of a porno as he spits on his hand, reaching down to cup his balls before stroking himself languidly.

After a few minutes of listening to him whine, you finally look up, watching him with an uninterested look as he thrusts his hips upwards, fucking his fist as he stares at you with wide pleading eyes. He fucking loves this. It’s his favorite game, over the years you were shocked to learn that Dieter Bravo, alleged lover of attention, got off on being ignored by you. Nothing made him harder than when you disregarded him.

He lets out a familiar keen as you watch him, you bullshit your way through the rest of the form you’re working on, not looking up as you speak.

“If you come I won’t touch you for a month.” It’s an empty threat but you know he’ll take it seriously. He squeezes the base of his cock with a groan, his chin falling forward to rest on his chest as he lets out a breathy whimper.

You collect all of your papers, making your way across the room, and setting them down on the couch next to him.

“I expect you to read every single one of those Dieter, I mean it.” You slide your panties down your legs, stepping out of them before hiking up your pencil skirt and straddling his lap.

“Yeah, of course-“ His voice trails off into a strangled cry as you waste no time and sink down onto his length. You close your eyes for a moment, relishing in the feeling of fullness as he squirms a bit beneath you, adjusting himself.

“I mean it.” You compose yourself quickly, frowning as he rolls his eyes.

“Yeah, I know-” You grab him by the jaw, your manicured nails leaving little crescent marks on his chin. Once his attitude dwindles you release him.

“You will sit still and you will read your scripts, you will not speak unless it is to tell me you are done and you will not touch me without permission. If you’re good I might let you come.” You click your pen to accentuate your point, already getting back to work as you start filling out another form against his shoulder. “Is that understood?” You don’t bother looking at him, you already know what expression you’ll see plastered on his face.

“Yes.” He sounds awfully satisfied with himself. Now you turn to face him, setting the tip of the pen underneath his chin to make him meet your gaze.

“Yes, what?” Just as you suspected, he’s grinning from ear to ear, his eyes half closed as he leans back with a pleased look on his face, picking up one of the unread binders.

“Yes, ma’am.” His cock twitches eagerly inside of you the moment he says those words.

“Good boy, now read your scripts Dieter.”

a/n : this had basically no cock warming in it bc i'm feeling silly w these prompts but whatever lmaoo. happy first of october !!

#lincolndjarin #kinktober 2023 #kinktober #dieter bravo #dieter x reader #dieter bravo x reader #dieter bravo fanfiction #dieter bravo x you #dieter bravo fic

226 notes · View notes

shoukiko · 10 months ago

Text

A small gift for my friend, @octiism <3

Proofread by @puff0o0

A/N: My first time writing about Graves! Please let me know if it's too OOC or if you like it!

"Phil?….Phil! Goddammit, Talk to me!"

You've been in a relationship with your commander for the past 6 months, which you kept a secret until last week. Some didn't take it well, suggesting you're only with him for special treatment, but he knows better.

Phil has been ignoring you for the past 3 days, you have no idea why. Things were going so well between the two of you and it was as if you were back to square one with him.

You stand outside his office constantly knocking, tired of these games. After another 5 minutes of knocking he finally opens the door, he looks…..sad?

You've never seen him so distraught.

"Phil..? Wh-What's.."

"I'm sorry." He cuts you off, looks into your eyes with such sincerity.

"Huh? What's going on, you haven't spoken to me at all in like 3 days?! I thought you hated me!" You snap back, upset, but worried.

"I know, I should not have done that to ya, it was wrong of me, Dove. I was just- just- dammit.." He puts his head in his hands and runs his fingers through his hair before meeting your eyes once again. "You deserve better than me, someone who is able to give you what you want, someone who can-"

You cut him off before he can finish, your tone holds a sense of offense.

"Excuse me? Is that what this is about?" You try to make sense of what he's saying.

Someone better? How could you possibly find someone better than THE Phillip Graves?

"I heard what some of those recruits said-- I know you aren't with me for those reasons, but I can't bear the thought of having all these people speak about you like this." He seems genuinely worried about you, not like usual when he calls you empty headed for bumping your knee or when he tells you he knows you're strong and to shake it off.

He seems scared.

"You don't want that. I know you don't… Phil.. Phil please look at me." Your voice becomes soft and gentle as you place a hand on his scarred cheek, turning him towards you.

"You are who I want, you are who I need in life. Since when do you care what other people say?" You sighed before beginning to rub his cheek with your thumb.

"Phil I love you, you are what I deserve in life and I made a promise to you that I plan to keep." Your thumb begins to caress him.

"It's gonna get harder." He rolls his eyes slightly.

"Gonna have to deal with a lot of bullshit if you're with me."

"I know, but I knew what I was signing up for when I told you I wanted to be with you."

"What did I ever do to deserve you, Darlin'?"

"Just keep bein' you and you'll see soon enough"

105 notes · View notes

drtanner · 6 months ago

Text

God. I'm pissed off again and you're all going to hear about it.

Some of you may know that I'm finally in a position to get my top surgery done on the NHS. I've been on their waitlist for a full year and it's finally my turn! But god, they're being asses about my BMI.

Some context: If you're trans, you can get top and bottom surgery on the NHS, but they have some really strict rules about BMI. Most top surgeons and all surgeons who perform bottom surgery require your BMI to be below 30. A few top surgeons will take you if your BMI is below 40, but you'll have to travel to see them and appointments are limited and hard to get. Over 40 BMI and you've got no options. The stated reason for this is that it's supposedly harder to get good results if they have to excise too much fat during the surgery. I'll let you decide how plausible that really is.

My BMI is a little over 40, by about 3.5kg, so not a huge amount. My fat percentage is a bit under 34, so it's not that I'm terribly fat, I just have a lot of muscle and very heavy bones! The surgeon himself - as well as every other medical professional who sees me - was surprised at how heavy I am given my size when he examined me last year and took Before pictures. My upper body is actually very lean and they know this because they've seen me! However, they're still being shits about my BMI, because BMI doesn't discriminate between muscle and fat, or how broad someone is, or how heavy their bones are or anything else, and apparently that's the only metric they go by. I've always had difficulty losing weight, probably because there really isn't that much to lose, so being told that I've now got to find a way to lose at least 3.5kg by October or have my surgery date pushed back isn't ideal and I'm getting really strung out about it. I've spent most of the last 15 years trying to get my BMI down without losing the muscle I worked so hard to build up or cut my leg off with fuck all success. I've been stable at my current weight for most of the last decade but now I have to figure out how to drop down to 121.5kg within three months.

The amount of hoops one has to jump through to get access to any kind of trans healthcare is absolutely ridiculous, a direct result of all the stupid handwringing about "permanent, irreversible surgeries!!!" and so on, as if I can't make choices about my own body.

Only, all of this bullshit about my weight and my BMI reminded me of something else: About ten years ago, when I was also getting shit about my weight (again, despite not being terribly fat, just heavy!), I got referred to a weight clinic. After seeing dieticians and being put on a drastically restricted calorie intake to no avail, I got shuffled off to the weight clinic, where they did the same blood tests that my GP had done before she referred me, saw that they came back normal again, unsurprisingly, and then promptly offered me bariatric surgery.

This was presented as the only treatment they were able to give to help me with my weight loss, to cut out part of my stomach and staple it back together to make it much, much smaller, because they didn't believe me when I told them I was controlling my diet. Like, oh yes, you say you aren't overeating all the time, but just to make sure you can't eat too much, we're going to make your stomach tiny so that you physically cannot fit food into it anymore. I've never heard anything good about bariatric surgery from anyone who had it. Every story is a horror story, from people who can't eat without stomach pain anymore, or keep down anything heavier than soup anymore, or who suffered through all of this only for what little weight they lost to come back in a few years' time. That was the only help they were willing to offer me.

I got up and left, and didn't go back again after that.

So, contrast these two situations. On one hand, I'm grappling with the NHS over my top surgery for entirely stupid reasons because it's ludicrously difficult to access any kind of trans healthcare, but especially surgeries, because they're "permanent and irreversible!!!" and "you might regret it!!!!" or whatever. Meanwhile, they couldn't throw bariatric surgery at me hard enough, just because my BMI was high. Is cutting out a huge piece of my stomach to make it smaller not "permanent or irreversible"? Might I not regret that? Especially when there's no guarantee that it would achieve the desired result at all? I know what I'm likely to get from the top surgery, but somehow that's the one nobody wants me to have.

Anyway, sorry about the long post. It's a fucking dogshit situation and I'm fucking sick of it.

#Tanner talks #long post

27 notes · View notes

saltofmercury · 2 years ago

Text

Secrets

Pairing: Soap x f!reader

Author's note: a little bit of angst with Johnny, remember he's loyal to his job before anything else.

"Secrets"

Things with Johnny had been going good. He had come back into your life, settled in there and was attempting to make it permanent. Waking up to his pout, him coming to your work to drop off lunch, lingering by the entrance of your office as he kissed you goodbye, small attempts to remind you he was here.

Johnny had enjoyed it too. He liked waiting for you to come home, make dinner for you, and watch you be you. He enjoyed planning the weekend, taking trips together, being snuggled on the couch with you and your many blankets and decorative pillows all over.

It was a small bubble you two had formed, willing to step on eggshells around one another as not pop it.

Things were going great—

—But there was the lingering tension between you two. As much as you wanted to ignore it and continue being with one another…There had always been this string of commotion between you, the chaos of his world, his reputation that he never talked about with you. You were both at fault, not wanting to crack the safe cocoon of domestic bliss you had been creating with one another.

So when it came to him leaving so suddenly, you cracked the bubble between you two.

“I don’t want you to go.” You had said one morning watching him take the duffle bag out of your closet.

“Dinnae say that to me, yeah? This is my job.”

“This is my job” a bit of “Soap” had come out when he spoke to you. Cold, heartless, and prideful.

It was childish but you pushed harder, for some hope of information.

“How long?”

“Not sure hen, but I’m positive for at least three months.”

Three months.

“Are you going to keep in contact with me?”

He had turned to you, seeing how hurt you were. You were met with his cold gaze, that had softened a bit. Johnny never expected to get hooked on someone so fast. He never expected someone other than his family to worry about him.

“You know I can’t pet,” he said, he had to keep a distance with his home life and work life.

“Johnny” didn’t exist out there, “Soap” did. And you knew nothing about Soap.

“This is unfucking stupid!” You had pulled your hair from your head and went to your living room leaving him alone to pack. In about four days he would be gone, no communication or trace of him for three months.

You put your show on, trying to distract yourself. Mentally repeating to yourself that you would not cry about this. Over a man who didn’t want to open up to you emotionally or be honest with you.

About two episodes in, he had come out, leaning against the wall, staring at you.

Flashbacks of talking to Gaz had flooded his brain. The things he told him after a mission, Gaz had mumbled about,

“You’re falling in love.”

He had brushed off Gaz’s comment. Laughing at him for being so stupid, but also for calling it how it is. How on the nose he was. Gaz was probably one of the only ones on the team who could read through Soap’s bullshit.

Johnny spoke softly, willing to negotiate with you.

"This is all new to me, I'm sorry."

You still didn’t turn, hurt that he wouldn’t open up about his job.

“Come on hen…” he walked over to where you were.

“Cannae have you poking around my job, it’s serious.”

You looked over at him, taken back that he would assume you wanted such a thing.

“All I’m asking for is a phone call, an email would suffice Johnny.”

He felt it in his stomach, he felt it in his heart, but he could not give that to you. Not after Ghost’s past.

“I’ll let you drop me off hen. But you’d got to give me time.”

He was serious again, the base would surely be safe enough for you to know about it, but he could not let anything happen to you because of his job.

It was a small small start.

Four days later it was quiet in the car. The navigation of your phone adding to the dull atmosphere that had settled between you two.

Johnny had been staring out the passenger window, with no attempt to hold your hand or to talk to you. He was nervous. Was it in the best interest even having you know where his base was? It was a different country, but people lurked everywhere. Paranoia had swarmed his thoughts.

He asked you to park further away to where people were actually dropping off family members and friends.

You followed his orders, kind of surprised that his side of him was coming out.

He got out first before you could turn the car off. He had stomped over to the driver's side, opening the door and enveloping you with his hands.

His mouth had found yours, feverishly and hungrily opened it. He had held your face with his hands, tucked it under your hair, and caressed the other side of your face.

“Come on, get out.”

You got out of the car, and he proceeded to kiss you even more, pushing you against the car to show you how much at this moment he had regret not saying goodbye properly last night for not being honest, not being more open about his job, and leaving you behind.

He had pulled away from the kiss, his lips lingering on yours, his hand rubbing your chin.

“You know I’m sorry right?” He whispered. You nodded silently.

“This is as far as you can come.”

He looked down at your eyes, placing soft kisses on your lips.

“I think I love you, hen and I’m sorry.”

He didn’t let you speak, he didn’t really care if you said it back right now. He grabbed his bag from the backseat and walked up to the base, not looking back.

You had been out with friends grabbing a coffee. You watched the milk swirl into your second cup, trying to focus on the conversation. You excused yourself to go to the bathroom.

Your phone rang in your bag from an unknown number. You didn’t have the chance to answer it or wonder who it was, due to a blocked number.

Johnny grabbed the hour of leisure to lock himself up in his office. He grabbed the phone he had been supplied, blocking his number so that you wouldn’t be tempted to call or text the phone number. He entered your phone number memorized in his head, then hesitated pressing the call button.

It rang and rang, no answer. Your voicemail had greeted him;

“sorry I can’t come to the phone, but leave a name and number and I can call you right back! Byeeeeee!”

He smiled at your voicemail, realizing he’s never heard it before.

“Hiya pet. It’s me, but you won’t be able to call me back. Thought I’d surprise ya, but guess I got ya at the wrong time. Miss and love you, see ya in about a month.”

He drummed his fingers on the desk, then decided against trying you again. He deleted the number from its history and locked the phone up in the desk. He had about a month left and everything was going bad. Everything was being resorted to plan B, C, and D. He just hoped that for one hour of his job he could hear about you for a change.

He dragged himself up again, ready to finish the mission.

The month passed by and you had filled your car with balloons you had blown up yourself. You got the snacks he enjoyed, and filled a small cooler with the chocolate milk he drank. You had taken the initiative to go pick him up. You had just hoped that he would be arriving exactly a month after you had received the voicemail.

How annoyed you were with yourself for going to the bathroom to cry, when seconds before he could reach out to you. You swear it was like you two communicated through telepathy.

To your surprise, and true to his word, by the time you pulled up to the parking spot there were other people waiting as well.

Nerves struck your stomach and you began to fidget. You were crossing a boundary here.

You had waited about half an hour before you saw him, walking side by side with someone else.

The other man – had his height, a serious face, and curls on his head. The man had eyed you down, recognizing you, but didn’t say a word. He gently nudged Johnny, poking his head towards you. You had started to fidget with your knuckles.

Because at that moment, there was no relief to see you. You were embraced with confusion, like his brain had tried to piece together why you were here, and his face never dropped the confused look and it erupted into looking furious. He walked towards you.

“Why are you here?”

You had become disoriented, wounded by how he was speaking to you.

“Go in the car, i’ll be with you in about five minutes.”

He couldn’t believe what was happening. He needed to take a few minutes to calm down so that he didn't explode.

You couldn’t believe what was going on. Was the voicemail you had received for someone else? Did he not mean what he said? You got in the driver's seat and turned the car on, chewing on your lip to evade any tears piercing your eyes.

He had gotten into the car without a word. He didn’t even realize the small balloons everywhere, or the effort you had put into throwing small confetti in your car. Just stayed quiet, still in the passenger seat.

By the time you merged onto the freeway, you decide to take the first exit. You weren’t going to continue in silence.

Swerving into a pharmacy parking lot and setting the car in park, you turned to him,

“What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“Do you just plan on ignoring me the entire ride? You could’ve easily taken the ride with your friend.”

He had continued watching outside the window, his mouth being bumped by his hand.

“Can you at least fucking look at me?”

He turned to you slowly, still serious as ever.

“Nobody asked ya to come get me.”

You were livid. You had been just playing house with this asshole a couple months ago.

“Look i’m sorry I crossed a boundary here, but I thought this meant I could come see you, you practically gave me the location!”

Soap kicked himself mentally for this. Yes, he did give the location to the military base he left from. But he never called you to come get him. He knew he was being an asshole but there was so much to him that he did not want to reveal, and Gaz being the first to see you was already strike one.

“Hen, if I didn’t give you permission to come get me, please don’t do it.” He grabbed your face, pleading with his eyes.

“Look, I know I was a proper bampot back there, but you can’t surprise me like this.”

“You know you’re such an asshole, you still climbed into the car with me knowing that — actually just forget it I’m sorry I even came.”

You were hurt. It seemed like he could do everything in the relationship except show any sort of emotional reciprocation towards you. He didn’t even give you a good explanation as to why.

You drove home in silence.

You had arrived back to your apartment, locking yourself in your room. Johnny had gone to take a shower. Tears that had been lingering for three months came out. You sobbed and cried into your pillow, upset that you had been given someone so special as Johnny, but clearly with no room to be available to you.

He had knocked on the door, before realizing it was locked. He unlocked it with some hair clip laying around, then came in.

“Can we please talk?”

“Don’t ignore me hen, come on” He creeped up behind you in bed, whispering i’m sorry to your neck and back, cradling you and hoping he didn’t fuck this up.

You turned to your side, feeling the regret of the decision you came up with.

“I don’t think I can be with you Johnny,”

There’s a sharp pain that drops in his stomach.

“Come on, don't say that.”

“I.. I don't think you want a relationship, because this isn’t what a relationship is.”

He stands up now, clenching one of his fists, because he’s stupid, he’s overreacted, he does want this.

“Hen, please, I –I'll give you more. We were on a mission in Africa and –”

“It’s not fair Johnny, it’s not even you ignoring me, but shoving me aside that’s not how it works.”

He had got down on his knees, grabbing your hands in his.

“I told you to give me some time hen, I don’t want you to …”

He had replayed several instances like this late at night wondering what you would think of him once he did tell you about his job. What he did.

“Can you just sleep on the couch tonight? I want some space.”

And Johnny obeyed, a dull pain surrounded his body because he was willing to spill the secrets he kept safe just to have you by his side.

#john soap mactavish #john mactavish #soap x reader #soap x y/n #johnny mactavish x you #john soap mctavish x reader #soap mactavish #johnny soap mactavish #soap mw2

348 notes · View notes

mayisgoingnuts · 6 months ago

Text

“ Healthy way to calm down “

-> ROSIE TICKLE FIC

Summary: Roy's solution to relieve stress is... quite aggressive, to say the bare minimum. But now that he got a conscious girlfriend, he's practically forced to let go of such habit and find a better one, seeing that it only causes MORE damage. In the end, Susie's idea can be pretty "dumb"... but works surprisingly well.

———————

Disclaimers: Angry Roy (duh), Brief "Teenagers of opposite sex alone in a room" kind of talk/vent, fluffy tickles, A LOT OF TEASES /silly ;; nothing else :]

Author's Note: Holy shit it's been so long since I've written a tickle fic kwhdjshdw LET'S SEE HOW IT GOES!!! Hope you guys enjoy!!

Tagging my dearest pookies for criticism/silly /hj @clownazon @merwynsartblog

“ What the hell are you doing?! ”

Susie yelled, pulling Roy back almost as instinct. He leaved for a moment, A MOMENT to go talk to his parents because they called... and he's already like this. Pissed, almost throwing a glass (that is inside his bedroom for God-knows-how-long) on the floor.

The boy just groaned, holding the glass tight and turning his head towards her with a louder tone.

“ Let go of me!! ”

“ Then answer my question, dammit! ”

Roy scowled, rolling his eyes and finally letting his grasp loose slightly. “ TRYING to calm myself down! Are you blind?! ”

Susie just stood there for less than ten seconds, sighing and taking the cup out of his hand, now showing more worry than before, although not letting it too explicit. She placed it on the bedside table again.

They just stayed quiet, Roy with his arms crossed as he looked away. Susie fidgeted her fingers, giving him some time before speaking up.

“ ..they said some messed up bullshit, didn't they? ”

She asked. Roy just looked down, frowning even harder.

“ It's not even that damn serious.. my dad just complained again about staying alone with you and all that... old people talk. ” He huffed. “ That's getting fucking annoying. ”

In a way, she's glad that it's not anything too deep... but if it's enough to get him like this, then looks like reason enough to not just laugh it off.

“ Yeah, that really sucks. Kinda makes me feel like some sort of wild animal or something. ”

“ Hmph. I can control myself... actually, it's not like I even want anything! ” Despite being glad that he's being understood, the anger is slowly building again. “ Just because those old ass people didn't had TV and had kids like if it was a sport, it doesn't mean I will! ”

“ Mhm! ”

“ Just... UGH!! I can't do ONE thing without them complaining about it! Letting you come by was already a pain, now I got another whole ass problem! ”

“ Mhm... ” She's slowly noticing his voice getting stronger.

“ What's next? Making me stay with you in the living room? Because THEY WOULD! ”

“ Mm..? Roy? ”

“ Can't have one fucking thing inside this damn house, never fucking ever! ”

“ Roy. ”

“ I'M NOT EVEN SURE HOW THEY LET ME HAVE A GIRLFRIEND STILL-! ”

As Roy began to pull his own hair, Susie stopped decided not to just agree with a nod anymore, grabbing his wrists and approaching his face to hers.

“ ROY! ”

The boy finally woke up to reality, having his eyes widened for a few seconds before frowning again.

“ You have to calm down, at this rate you'll try to break something else- ”

“ That's how I calm down, dammit. ”

The comment caught her off-guard, raising an eyebrow. “ ..by breaking things? ”

“ Meh. Or like, hitting my pillow until my hands get tired or start to hurt. Whatever shit that works. ”

This is definitely not a good sign, and now just more than ever she's up to change that. She looks around, trying to find something that could help.

“ Maybe we can play some games? ”

“ I'll lose. And then I'll just get even more pissed. ”

“ Uh... then what about watching TV? ”

“ No. ”

She thinks a little more, visibly struggling. All the options she gave didn't received any positive reactions, but giving up is definitely not happening either. Tired, Susie decided to just jump to the old, clingy options.

“ ..cuddles? ” She muttered, not used to saying it outloud just yet. They're not the type of being explicitly lovely.

Roy's eyes finally show any interest, but hiding it right afterwards. “ What, are you that desperate to make me shut up? ”

“ Yes or no, idiot. ”

He just stared in silence for some more seconds, now blushing lightly. “ ..yeah, dumbass. ”

The both of them just quietly moved to the bed, laying down as Susie decides to be the big spoon this time, hugging Roy with his back turned at her. However, despite being comfortable, she could still see some annoyance on his face. Not that it was bad, but his mind is still thinking about it regardless.

“ Can't stop thinking about them? ”

Roy clenched his fists. “ Mhm. ”

The girl sighed, squeezing him once as an attempt to be more affectionate. This isn't working... sure, he's not aggressive anymore, but that's just not enough. She wanted him in a good mood, not just... quiet. If she just wanted him to stay quiet, she would've just told him to shut up or smacked his head, which is definitely not the case.

This is all too complicated... nothing comes to her mind, at all. All she can do to express support is leave a soft kiss on the back of his neck, pulling down the collar of his sweater to do so.

For some odd reason, his head went back slightly along with a low hum, trying to intervene her peck.

“ Hm? ”

Roy slowly returned to the old position, resting his arms on Susie's once again, not paying much attention to it. Which is the opposite of Susie's case.

Just to check it again, her lips once again touched his skin. It sent a shiver down his spine, and his knees discreetly moved up, already prepared to just curl up onto a ball.

“ Quit it. It tickles. ”

He finally revealed, not even looking back at her. Those words sounded like a click to her brain. Of course! That's the same technique she uses with Pump when he's upset! Well, kinda... either way, she could easily try that!

If he doesn't get annoyed with tickling, that is...

And once again, Susie repeated the same movement as before, this time not letting go immediately, but still not doing it so consecutively. It can be considered a test.

“ H-Hey, I said it tickles. ”

Susie simply hugged him tighter, and it was enough for him to get the message: she's more than aware of such fact. Roy bends his neck backwards once again, trying to frown even harder to contain the reactions she's trying to force out of him.

“ Are you serious? I thought y-you... wanted to help me- ”

“ And I do. ”

“ Well, t-this is not helping! ”

And for his own unluck, his body decided to betray him. Roy's words were contradicted as soon as that same smile slowly revealed itself, along with a quick 'pfft' noise.

“ What? I didn't got it. ”

Roy innocently tried to repeat. “ I said- ”

Before the realization could even hit, he's already feeling her kisses back to his neck, this time a bit quicker than before.

“ Motherfuhucker! ”

Is the first thing that comes out, now hearing his own chuckles starting to be more and more frequent.

“ Don't be so whiny, I'm calming you down! ” The girl teased, now having to keep him closer to not let him escape.

There's nothing he could do but giggle, trying to push his body away and failing miserably in the process. But it's not like he's actually trying.

“ Lehehet go of mehehe! ”

“ Mwah! ”

“ Dohon't 'm-mwah' me, yohou jerk! ”

Susie gave a brief pause on her little talk for the dramatic purposes, only to say it outloud again. “ Mmmwah! ”

His breathing hitched for a moment, finally managing to atleast turn his body towards her. It made it easier for him to push her ticklish kisses away, putting his hands on her mouth to get that pause he's been craving for (?) ever since she started.

“ Hehehe.. you suck... ”

Now that he's finally facing her, the smile glued on Roy's expression is way more visible. How did he expected her to let go or stop so quickly while looking like this? So adorable and, specially, happy? Yeah, definitely not happening.

“ Ooh, I do? ” Asked, her voice slightly muffled because of the palms covering her own mouth.

He smirked cockily. “ Y-Yeah, you d- EEK! ”

If the boy was planning to return to his previous state, he can already give up on it. A hand suddenly crawled to under his shirt, making him arch his back as the same mentioned spot now had Susie's fingers taking care of it.

“ Suhuhusie!! ”

“ You're too ungrateful. I help you, and then you say that I suck! You're an ass! ”

He tried to pay attention to her playful words, but her nails softly going up and down made it way more difficult than it should be. “ Shuhuhut up! ”

“ AND tells me to shut up! ”

“ You're sohoho lucky thahat you're my girlfriehehend, you fuhu- ” Any words afterwards just turned into a bunch of gibberish, covering his face as an awful attempt to hide.

It just made him notice how hot his own cheeks were getting, what not only didn't helped with the embarassment, but also worsened it.

“ Uh-huh... it's more like the opposite. You are lucky that you're my boyfriend. ”

“ And whahat being yohohour boyfriend hehehelps here?? ”

Susie's fake composture broke slightly, but she kept trying to look angry or unbothered. It's still pretty obvious what her true intentions are, but this is way funnier regardless.

“ I mean, if you weren't, I would've just done... this! ”

For demonstration, Susie's fingers suddenly jumped from his back to his ribs. It was more than enough to get him to absolutely lose it, laughing and wiggling his legs around as they sometimes kick the air out of instinct.

“ NOHOHO!! SUHUHUSIEEE! ”

“ See? Then I would be a bastard. ”

A few snorts began to escape Roy's lips. Should he be muffling his own laughter to not let it get too loud? Trying to stop her? Pushing her? Keeping her close? At the same time that he had a lot of options and thoughts, he also didn't had anything going on there. Just... tickles, and laughter. And Susie's face.

“ I GET IT, I GEHEHET IT! ”

“ And I would also say stuff like- ”

“ DOHON'T YOU DARE! ” Susie did nothing but giggle and keeping on.

“ Wow, you're so ticklish! Or: Wow, you can't even take a few kisses on your neck! ”

Gosh, it only worsened his situation. His face soon is turning crimson red, she can hear his stupid ass laugh loud and clear, and probably anyone close to the door could too. Roy just continued to hug himself, trying to lessen the sensations.

“ STOHOP TALKIHIHING! ”

“ Oor maybeeee... wow, how stupidly cute your laugh is right now! ”

Without even thinking, Roy covered his mouth, now being nothing but a bunch of muffled noises. This only turned into more fuel to Susie's teasing.

“ How red your face iiis... ”

And just like expected, Roy buried his hot face onto Susie's chest. Her fingers didn't got any slower, her body didn't got any more distant, the damn tickling didn't got any less effective.

And if you think that returning her fingers to his back would solve the last 'problem'... it didn't. He may be back to the giggling and weak kicks, but it still had the exact same impact.

“ I- hmphh- hehehehe- ”

Roy had to wait a little before finally speaking again, unable to not hold anything. He wanted to squirm, but it'd end up pushing her away. As a solution, he just grabbed the collar of his sweater and pulled it up, hiding most part his mouth still and with his grasp so tight that he already felt his own nails through the clothing.

“ I hate yohohou so damn much..! ”

Said the same boy who willingly stayed on her arms, not doing anything about it while his precious girlfriend continued to tickle and help her boyfriend in need.

#spooky month #spooky month roy #spooky month susie #roy x susie #susie x roy #rosie #sfw tickle community #tickle fanfic #tickle fic

25 notes · View notes

nrdmssgs · 7 months ago

Text

Serpent tongue

Masterlist Genre: Angst with a happy ending. Characters: Sebastian Krueger, Phayvanh "Nak" Sotsvahn belongs to @vasyandii, Olga 'Zhar" Samoilova TWs: strong language, description of military operation, canon typical violence AN: this is set somwhere arond the begining of Nak and Kruegers interactions, so they are a bit silly around each other. But I promise, they will be in love soon-ish.

“phai bo non maew, si kad kaem.*” Words roll down Phayvanh`s tongue and echoe in the empty, dark hall.

Even if there are any other soldiers around at this late hour - they'll know better than to bother her. Because she's deep inside her thoughts - she's humming and mumbling the words, obscure to their ears. Her very own cantrips to keep others away, her mnemonic spells to help her with the routine. So what if it's just a lullaby? As long as it helps her shut her brain off and run the preparations mechanically…

“phai bo aem, kai noi tod taa.*” On this verse she always checks the flashlights before attaching them to her vest.

Click. The strobe flashlight works perfectly.

“phai bo aem…”

Click. The spare flashlight Illuminates Krueger's face in the semi-darkness.

Phayvanh doesn't flinch nor shriek from the suddenness of him appearing just a few meters behind. She turns off the light and watches Sebastian face.

Pathetic fucker had his own share of humiliation today, much to Nak's enjoyment. Oh, how cocky he was all the way to Zhar's office. Only to get dismissed at the very beginning of a debrief. “I'm not coming, but the baby is?” - Krueger's outburst was so loud, it seemed like the whole base would hear that: “What is that she can, and I don't?!”. Zhar didn't even raise her gaze from the documents, she was checking before the meeting start. But when she answered, Nak had to bite her cheeks to not grin victoriously. “The list would be long, Sebastian, but it would start with the fact, that Nak can obviously read the list of soldiers, I called for this debriefing. The list that contained her, and didn't contain you. Now stand up.” That was the first time she looked up since they gathered around her desk. “And leave my office. I have soldiers to prepare for the mission.”

And just like that the notorious ‘golden boy’, ‘Zhars favorite’, ‘the faceless Chimera’ was shown his place. So it was only natural for him to come mock Phayvanh later, when the audience is not that big.

“Serpent tongue!” His idiotic smile doesn't bode well.

“Going straight for racism this time, moron?” Nak feels almost disappointed about how plain Krueger's attack is. Even calling her little baby hit harder than this bullshit.

“No, I… Wait-wait!” He jumps closer to the table, where she prepares her tactical vest to not get lost from her gaze. “I meant it in a good way! Like these Lao letters, they look like little snakes! I looked it up and there is that one like a confused snake, another one like a happy snake, a bunch of letters with a snake that looks at its own tail. They are lovely.”

Since when this idiot has an interest for Lao alphabet?

“What you're gonna say, I'm seeing shit? C`mon, admit it, your letters are beautiful, but it's easy to memorize them when you think of them as little snakes. Serpent tongue.” He looks so proud, as if he just solved one of Landaus problems, not invented some nonsense.

“Gonna say, that a confused snake, watching his own tail, has more brainpower than you.” Phayvanh goes back to preparation routine, trying to ignore Krueger, who seems to not be in a hurry to leave her alone.

They spend a few long minutes in silence, which is a good thing for Nak. She's not ready for questions like ‘why don't you sleep before the important mission?’, ‘is it really just a preparation, or are nervously fidgeting your own equipment?’, ‘are you afraid to turn out worse than me?’. Krueger takes a step to the desk and start helping her arrange all the essentials. She tolerates it, but everything has its limits. Phayvanhs patience cracks when Sebastian reaches out to one of her push daggers. Her hand is quicker, her smooth movements are more precise, and the blade freezes only in mere centimeters away from a vein pulsing on Kruegers neck. A bold hint, but quite a clear one.

“I just wanted to help.” He raises hands in a surrendering gesture. “Olga likely threw a ton of timings, plans, routes and whatsoever at you. The first time with her is overwhelming, I know. There must be a few ‘tiers’ of action plans for each of you, right?”

Nak doesn't lower her dagger, but nods. There were, indeed, different plans for each step of her part in the mission. She didn't quite catch, why would she need a plan B, С and so on. She either does her job or dies trying - that was always how it went.

“Listen, if anything goes south - just don't hesitate and go straight to the plan B, ok? Forget commander's bullshit about top-tier goals and minimum goals. She always gets what she needs in the end and that is her ‘least satisfied’ plan. Always. So you worry about yourself, ok? Not the goal or plan A.”

Phayvanh doesn't believe her ears. So the golden boy doesn't always hit the top goal? That spoiled brat that dares calling her a baby, turns into a loser, once he's given freedom to operate on any level besides perfect? Oh, he didn't actually hear the real Serpents tongue. The one that pushes her to the limits, demands no less than perfection, accepts no excuses. Krueger wouldn't last a week with that voice ringing in his ears.

“There are either perfect results or no results.” Nak is kind enough to tell this in English, so Krueger understands one of the basis principles, that the Serpent once taught her.

***

The mission under Zhars command feels different from what is going on, when Nikolai is around. With him It's always about what you do in the end. But with his second in command, it's about how you do it.

Naks route is planned to the last meter, her timing has limits of steel - not only can't she fall behind - she will ruin everything, should she appear at her next point too soon. She gets a good reminder, when the street, she is supposed to enter 10 minutes later is being turned into a bloodbath with a drone squadron just before her eyes. Phayvanh hides around the corner of a building and swears while checking her watch.

“Perfect result or no result.” A too familiar voice sounds in her head. But she ignores it.

It works for some time. Nak follows the path of fire, the path paved by other Chimeras and brings death to her objectives. Plan A works so well - they are never prepared to meet her.

It almost feels too easy, until it doesn't. One of them turns out too massive, too full of life, too stubborn. One second Phayvanh has him in her hands, the other she's drowning in a muddy puddle with his hands pushing her deeper. She knows, this is not the end of her: Nak had a fair share of similar situations, both on the field and at the training. It takes just a little patience and dexterity to turn the fight upside down. After all, it's him trying to balance in a sloppy mud. She tries to wiggle her way out of his clasp… and fails. Her body freezes struck by a terrifying flashback.

“Perfect result or no result!” Nagas voice. She was here already. Face pushed deep in filthy water, subtle teenage body struggling to break free from old man's grip.

He was shouting at her. Every time she dared to deliver anything but the perfect result - there was a punishment to come. And there were screams. Not her - Naga made sure, she couldn't even breathe. He was the one screaming.

“Perfect result or no result!”

She hates this voice for keeping her awake before the mission, for destroying her every time anyone refers to her as a child, for drowning her mind in terror. The reals Serpents tongue is made of pain, humiliation and endless requirements, that she doesn't fulfill. Not of ‘funny snaky letters’, Sebastian was babbling about.

Nak gathers all her strength, every part of her body feels like a coiled spring waiting to set loose. And she snaps. The poor fucker believed, he had her. Well his mistake. Because now Phayvanh is on top, and she doesn't even need a knife to end his pathetic life.

Strangling him with her bare hands, she shouts “shut up” on and on. As if the voice taunting her doesn't echo just in her mind. It feels like forever before he stops struggling. But when she lets go of him - a barely audible breath leaves his chest.

It drives her mad. After all she's done - he has an audacity to live on? So she hits face. Hard. And then again. And again.

She snaps out of it only, when a familiar voice appears behind her. “Nak? You're hurt?” Phayvanh turns back and meets Zhars gaze.

“Komandir? Ya seichas… Ya. Ya s nim razberus`!*” For some reason Nak answered in Russian despite Olga rarely using it.

“He's long gone, soldier.” Zhar glances at the guy lying on the ground under Nak and Phayvanh follows her gaze.

Her enemy has no recognizable face anymore, the puddle of mud, he's buried in turns red. His body gave up a long time ago, but Nak was too blinded by painful memories to recognize it.

An unsettling thought appears in Naks head. How long has she spent here over the dead body? She checks her watches and frowns. Too long. She's supposed to be elsewhere a long time ago.

“Go, Nak. Skip your next point, you're on route B now.” Zhar doesn't raise her voice - she never does. But this time Phayvanh wishes she would.

“Perfect result or no result.”

That only means one thing - she failed. And she deserves to be screamed at. She desperately tries to fight the numbness off, but can't even make herself get up.

Better shout at her. She's used to it.

Olga touches her shoulder and Nak flinches. She remembers only Zhars eyes moving closer and a few words in a low voice.

“Get up and go. Now.”

She stands up and doesn't go away - she flies as far as she can. Phayvanh runs as fast as she can, as if that can help her escape the guilt building up. Her body accomplishes the plan B automatically. Point after point, objective after objective.

She is restless on their way back, she barely reacts to her squadmates questions and commentaries. Even at the Chimera base, Nak can't seem to slow down and keeps herself occupied until late night.

***

“phai bo non maew, si kad kaem.*” Words roll down Phayvanh`s tongue and echo in the empty, dark hall. A wet mop draws intricate wet patterns on the floor.

It was nobody's order - Phayvanh just couldn't calm down. So she rearranged all her stuff. Twice. And then she tidied up their armory room. And another one. And then she mopped.

It's a good thing, Nikolai's base is so huge - lots to do in the middle of the night, while others sleep.

“phai bo aem, kai noi tod taa.*” On this verse she usually enters ladies locker room, when she mops.

Click. The light turns on, illuminating the seemingly clean floor. Well, an extra cleaning never hurt nobody…

“Potushi svet, ya tebya umolyaiu.*” Olgas voice. Only it sounds husky and tired, as if she was crying or coughing for a long time.

Nak turns and sees her, sitting on the floor. The ever so serious, busy, on-her-way-somewhere-else commander curled up against a wall like a lost child. Zhars face is red, closed eyes swollen, cheeks wet.

Phayvanh rushes on her knees, pushing the mop away and proceeds straight to inspecting Olgas body, searching for a wound. But her commander only smiles.

“Phay, it's only the tear gas.”

“But… It's been-”

“You live to my age - you'll wonder, how could your body come back to normal so fast back when you were 20. Now please turn out that light.”

Nak does as she told and comes back to sit before Olga. She doesn't care if by doing so she'll provoke her executive to get angry at her.

“I'm not leaving you here, commander. Let's get you to the medbay.” She takes Zhars hand and tries to pull her, but Olga doesn't move.

“I am fine. Just need to sit here for a bit, let my eyes rest.” Zhar stretches her back and reaches out into the void before her, blindlessly searching for Nak. “Stay with me for a bit, ok?”

“I don't understand.” Phayvanh moves closer and catches Olgas hand, letting her know, shes not leaving. “What are you doing here? You have your office.”

“And you have your room, soldier.” Smile never leaves Zhars face. “Yet here we are.”

They sit next to each other in silence for some time. Naks eyes get used to a dim emergency exit light that barely illuminates a small part of the locker room. And then Olga speaks again, as if there was no pause.

“I come here for them.” She points at an old dusty mirror, taken from the wall long before Nak joined the Chimera. One can barely recognize their reflection in the mirror - it is too dirty. “If you find just the right angle and look long enough - you will see your legs, your chest and arms, but not your face. When you sit right - yours hidden in the shadow. I like to imagine - I'm seeing everything, that's wrong with me in these moments. Everybody, who wronged me. And then we talk.”

Nak tries to catch a glimpse of any reflection in the mirror, but barely sees anything. So she leans closer and cranes his neck.

“See a familiar face?” Zhars hand rests on Phayvanhs back. Usually Nak would avoid any informal physical contact, but this time it feels right, to let Olga know, she isn't alone.

“...nope, I see nobody, ma`am.”

“Nobody punished you for aiming anywhere but the ideal?” Now that's a sucker punch. A deserved one, as Naks confusion was painfully obvious to her commander today. But it still hits hard. So she nods.

“I'll do better next-”

“No. After what they have done to you - this is what you're telling them?”

“Commander, I'm telling that you.”

“Fuck me, Phay. I'm a hired soldier, just like you. One word from Nikolai and I won’t be here tomorrow. Krueger will throw a tantrum, but…” Zhar chuckles. “Talk to them. This isn't about me.”

Naks looks in the darkening void of the mirror and sighs. She doesnt even know, where to start, to not sound immature and lose her job right away.

“Let me put the other way: think of what the would tell you right now.”

That Nak knows for sure. Even if Naga is nowhere around - she always knows what exactly would he say.

“Hed ask me if im going to cry.”

“We can cry, Phay. Ive been doing it for past few hours. Well, because of dry eyes, but that still counts.”

“Oh, I won't cry. Not for him. Never.” Nak can't take her eyes of the mirror. The view is somehow mesmerizing: she sees her body, but her face remains in the shadow.

For a split second she thinks, if she should speak in Lao. Nobody in Chimera talks it. She is safe to say whatever, she wants. But then she thinks, that this is exactly what Naga would want: her keeping her pain all to herself. So that his serpent tongue can torture her soul unbothered.

She takes a deep breath and begins to speak.

“Well maybe I should be thanking you. You prepared me for all this shit at a young age. Comrades selling me lies, people betraying me, friends seeing me as just a kid. The next time id pour some love out - ill never get back a single drop of it. You prepared me for that. And for always being not enough. You did it out of the best intentions, I know. You prepared me for the worst in my life. By being it.”

The silence, that falls on her after that, is deafening. But for some reason, Nak feels better for the first time since she came back to senses on the battlefield.

Then she feels hands, someones hands hugging her shoulders. There are no words left for this room or this mirror today. But this wordlessness is a happy thing.

*phai bo non maew, si kad kaem. - (Lao phonetic) If you don't sleep, ghost cats will bite your cheeks.

*phai bo aem, kai noi tod taa - (Lao phonetic) If you don't shut your eyes, tiny chicks will peck them.

*Komandir? Ya seichas… Ya. Ya s nim razberus`! - (Russian phonetic) Commander? I'm going to… I. I'm going to deal with him!

*Potushi svet, ya tebya umolyaiu. - (Russian phonetic) turn off the light, I beg you.

21 notes · View notes