#and wondering if people really liked people based on their sex?? that's so weird?? until i realised that sounded kinda gay so postponed | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

stupidlittlespirit · 4 months

Text

Good Boy

Rating: NSFW (very!), mdni Type: Longform Tags: webcam show, voyeurism, sex work, masturbation, female body described, one use of gendered language ('ma'am'), virgin!Reigen, pathetic!Reigen, Word count: 5797 My other works: here on tumblr and here on Ao3! Reigen finds your webcam show and proceeds to be a pervert.

“Should I send my boss a video of what I'm busy doing?” You ask, rocking your ass back and forth. The skirt lifts when you bend down and Reigen catches a peek of your underwear when you lean over a little more. You turn until your back is to the camera and then begin to lift the skirt higher and higher as you dance, tantalisingly slow.

Reigen squeezes the base of his cock and smirks to himself. “I wouldn't bother.”

He finds the video by complete accident.

Reigen is scrolling aimlessly through the feed of his favourite porn sites, rows upon rows of explicit content at his fingertips as he trolls through videos he's seen so many times before he has them practically memorised. They don't do anything for him anymore.

He's bored of the repetitive scenarios and over the top acting, and if he has to watch another shitty, stilted skit again he's going to stop jerking off for the rest of his life in protest.

Well. Maybe he won't go that far, but he's certainly fed up with the lack of excitement.

It's closing in on one 1AM on a Friday night and Reigen is spending yet another weekend all on his own. Serizawa is busy with school friends, Dimple isn't in the mood to find a host body for a night out and Mob is likely fast asleep. If he's honest, even Reigen knows how pathetic he'd look if he asked a kid to spend his afterschool time with him.

The only other person he has to ask out is you. You're the newest member of the team and even though you've been out with all of them a fair few times, tonight you'd dismissed his suggestions with the simple excuse of being busy.

You hadn't specified what you were going to be busy with, but Reigen supposes it isn't really any of his business. He can't deny his disappointment, though.

He'd hoped you might jump at the chance for one on one time with him, and whilst he stares at the screen of his computer, desperate for something to make him feel less lonesome, the sting of your rejection is only softened slightly by the alcohol he's had for dinner.

At his feet, there are several cans of chuhai. Every time he drinks alone in his apartment, he finds that he only has two options when no one wants to be around him. One: get so wasted that he passes out before he can think too much about his misery or two: jerk off to prevent himself from thinking about his misery.

Right now, Reigen is reasonably drunk, he's totally lonely, and most of all, he's horny. He supposes he may as well achieve both outcomes at once tonight. He isn't looking for anything in particular right now, just something that might take the edge off and help him sleep a little better. His expectations of finding anything particularly exciting are very low.

However, perched at his PC, shirtless and in his sweatpants, Reigen is starting to think it might be a waste of time. Nothing seems of interest to him. It's either too weird or too boring, and he wonders if he might be better off just calling it a night.

In a last ditch attempt, he switches from his typical porn site to a newer one. One he hasn't tried before. Usually he'd watch something pre-recorded, but he faintly remembers reading something on a forum somewhere about the newest trend of cam girls.

The post had detailed how viewers could make requests for a performer to do whatever they wanted, all live and in real-time, and he has to admit it sounds a lot more interesting than viewing the same video over and over.

He clicks the first link that pops up from his search.

The website is simplistic and once he's clicked through his verifications, Reigen begins to scan the rows of people on offer. There are women and men and everything in between, but every time he selects one, the performer seems bored and uninspired. Sometimes, they're not even there.

Reigen tries the second page. He's halfway down it, not really paying full attention anymore, when abruptly one of the little preview windows looks vaguely familiar.

Squinting, he leans in to get a better view to try and place where he's seen that room before. The decor in the thumbnail looks like a place he's seen before, but he can't quite put his finger on where.

Reigen clicks it and at first, he doesn't quite believe what he's seeing. That decor, the colour of the walls, the furniture…. It's your apartment. He knows because he's been there; he's crashed on that very floor after several messy nights out, right beside the cushy bed that the camera is centered on.

He's absolutely, definitely, a hundred percent sure that that's your room.

For a second, he worries that someone might have snuck into your apartment and hidden a spy camera amongst your things without your knowledge. It's not unheard of for creeps to conceal webcams in places to catch footage of unsuspecting victims and although Reigen likes his fair share of voyeuristic content, he would never watch something that wasn't clearly a purposely set up scenario.

He reaches for his cell phone where it rests besides his keyboard, fully intending to call you and make you aware, when suddenly you're walking into frame and sitting on the bed, dressed only in your underwear, some sheer stockings and a ridiculously tiny little skirt.

You shoot the camera a coy smile and offer a little wave. “Welcome back, everyone.”

Reigen's jaw drops open.

You're on his fucking porn site.

You. Of all people.

Stunned, he watches you shift so that you can lie down on your bed, lounging leisurely on top of a thick, comfy looking blanket that covers your bedspread.

The lighting is low and moody, but there's a clearly a softer source of light emanating from somewhere behind the camera to ensure your half naked body can be seen properly.

Music is playing gently in the background, and beside the bed is a small table, on which rests a small selection of intimidating looking sex toys. There are a couple of interesting looking dildos, a chunky vibrator, and a few bottles of oil or something similar.

He watches you lean forward slightly to apparently read something on screen, your eyes scanning back and forth. Your tits press against the fabric of your bra as you shuffle up where you're resting, leaning forward to fiddle with what he assumes is your computer.

Reigen’s throat suddenly feels very dry.

Barely five hours ago, you'd been wishing him a nice weekend as you'd left the office, heading off for home to spend the weekend doing something that didn't include him. When you'd told him that you'd been too busy to go for a drink with them, he hadn't thought much of it.

Perhaps you'd been lying. Perhaps the real reason you'd said no had been to go and do this....

Briefly, he wonders if he's seeing things. Perhaps the room is simply similar to yours and you're not really you at all. Just another person who looks exceptionally similar.

He decides he needs to make sure that what he's stumbled across is the truth and not an unbelievably accurate illusion.

Reigen reaches for his phone again. Your face is just out of frame now and he can't be 100% sure that it's really you, but he's certain that he needs to find out. To test his theory, he types out a simple text, something casual to ensure that you'll have no idea that he's watching, and waits to see what happens.

[Reigen] - Hey, are you busy?

On screen there's a buzzing sound. You twist into a kneeling position to reach behind you and his blood runs cold. There's no way that it's a coincidence your phone is going off right now.

As he watches you shuffle back up to sit closer to the camera again, your pretty face comes into view and so does your cell phone, head aloft like a trophy. No doubt about it: this is no look alike.

You study your phone, reading the text and then glancing over to look at your audience. "Oh," You say, holding your phone up with a cheeky grin. “It's my boss.”

Underneath the video screen, there's a chatbox that's scrolling along, ticking upwards with each new message that pings through, and you look away from your phone to check it.

Several new chats pop up at your announcement and Reigen somehow manages to tear his eyes away from you to see what's being said.

What does he want? asks one viewer.

You laugh, soft and amused. “He wants to know if I'm busy.”

Your voice is softer than Reigen used to hearing it; teasing and intimate in a way that does something funny to his insides. A few more messages spin up in the chat:

is he cute?

Do you like him?

Would you fuck him?

Reigen swallows hard.

It's not like he hasn't thought about it. He's considered it several times, actually. In great, vivid detail. When he can't find any decent porn to get off too, he often finds thoughts of you wandering into his mind. Reigen knows it’s weird and unethical, but if no one else is aware then it's not like anyone can be hurt by it.

He's harboured a crush on you since the moment you'd walked into the office to drop off your CV and he hasn't known peace since. Every time you bend over to pick up files, he sneaks a peek at your ass. Whenever you brush up against him in passing, he prays he doesn't get hard. It's a nightmare.

When he's alone and he's given up on finding an ethical source of arousal for the evening, he’ll think about you in your office wear, or your underwear, or sometimes in nothing at all.

He's always had to imagine what you might look like naked and for some reason, he's never been able to get the vision to seem quite right. With nothing to reference, it's hard to know beyond the silhouette hidden by your clothes.

Until now, anyway.

You're leaning in close to look at the chat messages again, your tits pressed up against the thin fabric of your bra. They jiggle nicely as you move and Reigen feels his cock stir in his sweatpants. He reaches for the half-empty can of chuhai beside his PC and takes a swig to soothe his dry mouth.

“Oh yeah,” you say, biting down your lower lip. “Very cute. I'd fuck him anytime.”

Reigen almost chokes on his mouthful of fruity alcohol, spluttering awkwardly.

You begin to run your fingers up between the valley of your breasts, reaching over to toy with the lace cups of your bra and dipping your fingertips underneath the material to brush against your nipples.

“He's got such a great ass,” you whisper to the camera, biting down on your lip to stifle a smile. “I check him out all the time but he never catches me. What do you think he'd do if he did?”

Reigen's breath hitches. His face feels red hot at your confession and he knows that he's probably bright red, but can't believe what he's hearing.

The chat bumps up several rows, filled with suggestions and fantasies:

He'd punish you.

Probably promote you lol.

I bet he'd fuck you in the office.

“He would,” Reigen groans out loud to his empty room. “You have no idea how much he would.”

He's had plenty of daydreams about that exact scenario; bending you over his desk when everyone else has gone home for the day or letting you ride him while he sits in his office chair, slow and sweet until he fills you up. The thought drives him insane.

Almost of its own accord, his hand slips down to palm at his dick. There's a steadily growing wet patch on the front of his pants as pre cum begins to gather at the head and the slick friction of the fabric there only arouses him more.

“Ah,” you gasp happily as you pinch one of your nipples. “I wish.”

After a few seconds of touching your tits, you trace your hand up towards your collarbone and run your fingertips along them, back and forth slowly. It's teasing, erotic almost, and Reigen imagines your delicate fingers on his own skin, tickling along the soft flesh of his thighs or clutching at his back.

He's still reeling at your admitted attraction to him. He knows there's a chance that you're only playing things up for the camera, but he's so hard and so turned on by the notion that you might be into him that he doesn't care how true it is right now.

Rather than worry too much about the legitimacy, he hooks his thumb into the waistband of his sweats without looking away from the screen and shuffles in his seat so that he can expose his cock fully.

He knows he shouldn't really be watching this. He isn't even sure why you're on this website; he pays much more than he used to and there's no way you're short for cash, so you're not moonlighting to make ends meet. Maybe you just enjoy it?

The idea thrills him and so does the knowledge that what he's doing is forbidden. Again, he supposes that if you have no clue that he's watching you right now then he can excuse his actions…. Right?

“It's so unprofessional,” You're almost whispering now, talking softly as your touch travels to different parts of your body. “But I think about it all the time.”

Reigen reaches for the small bottle of lube that sits in the corner of his desk while you talk, squeezing some out onto the fingers of one hand. He trails it around his dick slowly, ignoring the chill and covering himself until the skin is slick and wet.

The chat pings again, except this time there's the sound of coins dropping. A pink message appears:

[400 coins] Ass shake/Dance

Briefly, Reigen is confused. He has no idea what that means and his hand pauses to check the message. Next to it is a little cartoon coin, and he realises that you've been tipped money to do an activity.

You smile brightly, however, clearly pleased by the strange sound, and slowly you get up from your seat. “Thank you so much!” You giggle, blowing a kiss to the camera.

He watches you stand and fiddle with something that looks like a TV remote, and then the quiet music in the background becomes a little louder. You begin to sway your hips in time with the beat of the music, turning on the spot slowly.

“Should I send my boss a video of what I'm busy doing?” You ask, rocking your ass back and forth.

The skirt lifts when you bend down and Reigen catches a peek of your underwear when you lean over a little more. You turn until your back is to the camera and then begin to lift the skirt higher and higher as you dance, tantalisingly slow.

Reigen squeezes the base of his cock and smirks to himself. “I wouldn't bother.”

Your skirt recedes to reveal the bare skin of your ass. You're wearing lacy underwear that barely covers your pussy and Reigen groans at the sight, watching closely as you wiggle your hips until the fat of your ass wobbles deliciously.

He barely gets ten seconds worth of a look before you're moving back to sit on your bed, and he can't help the disappointment that rises in him.

With his free hand, Reigen takes a chance and bravely types out a message in chat:

[anon] - keep going

“Ah ahh,” you chastise, clearly reading the command he's sent through. “Tip to make requests, boys, you know the rules.”

Reigen isn’t sure what he's more turned on by; the business sense or your bossy attitude.

One handed, he swiftly clicks through on the link that auto generates in chat to make an account. He spares a thanks that modern technology allows him to keep his credit card info saved online and as soon as everything has gone through, he comes right back to your room.

The chat spits out a menu, triggered by the forbidden request, that clearly states an extensive menu of services. There are lots of options, and Reigen's mouth begins to salivate as he scrolls down the list. Whilst he's busy reading, another tip comes in from a different user:

[800 coins] - topless

“Oh,” you say, grinning as you reach for your bra straps. “Stepping things up, huh?”

Your comment makes Reigen look up again and his stomach flips when he realises what's about to happen.

Teasing, you thumb down each strap, letting them fall down to your sides. You reach behind yourself to undo the clasp and very gradually, you lower the pretty lingerie until finally, the lace falls away to expose your chest to the camera.

Reigen stares at the screen, mouth open, and his hand begins to stroke his cock. He's imagined seeing your naked chest more times than he can recall but his mind's eye is nothing in comparison to the real (or rather, virtual) thing. They're gorgeous. Perfect, in fact. He's not sure that he's ever seen anything better.

Embarrassed as he is to admit, Reigen has never actually seen anyone naked in real life. He's never even fucked another person, but he's seen his fair share of porn and none of those videos compare to you.

Every fantasy he's ever had has been completely imaginary and he doesn't dare make a move to find sex in real life; being an adult virgin is horribly embarrassing and he doesn't want to risk being laughed at. For now, he'll stick to his usual viewing habits.

“Fuck.” Reigen mutters, breath hitching. His hand works the length of his cock, fist tight and slick with lube, and on screen you're reaching up to play with your nipples again.

Enraptured by your image, he tightens his grip on the bottom of his dick every time you pinch yourself gently.

You take both tits in hand and squeeze them together, biting your lower lip and grinning as chat messages pour through. It's evident that you're enjoying yourself and it makes Reigen feel slightly less guilty for being a pervert.

The languid strokes of his cock become even slower while he types out the message he'd intended to send before, heart pounding in anticipation:

[950 coins] - remove skirt/underwear

The jingle of the tip plays and your eyes light up. “Oh,” you say, leaning forward to check the request. “You're new here.”

Momentarily, Reigen's hand pauses. His username is just a randomly generated set of numbers. There's no way you'd be able to tell his true identity from, yet he briefly panics that you might have rumbled him. He holds his breath for a second.

You nibble your lower lip and smile, but his cover isn't blown. “You guys are excited today, hm?” You laugh, getting up again and shifting the camera to ensure everyone can see what you're doing.

Carefully, you make a show of lifting up your skirt and undoing the side clasp before letting it fall to the floor with a soft thump. The panties you're wearing are tiny, yet they cover you well enough that it's hard to see much just yet. You give your ass a little shake again and bend over, spreading your legs.

Relieved, Reigen's hand begins to move again and without looking away, he shirks his sweatpants completely. His body feels hot all over and being constrained by his clothing feels unbearably uncomfortable. He kicks the trousers away from him and grins at your excited laughter.

“How's the view?” You ask, squeezing your ass gently.

“Perfect,” Reigen grunts, as though you can hear him.

You're reaching between your legs now, stroking your covered pussy up and down, and Reigen moans quietly. Chat messages are stacking up below your video screen, but he only has eyes for you right now.

Deliberately unhurried, you drag your hand back through your legs and take hold of the waistband of your panties. You pull the fabric down, down, down, slipping it over your round ass until finally you're baring yourself to the world in the most intimate way.

Wetness clings to your underwear when you tug it away and you're visibly aroused by the movement, making a soft sound of pleasure.

Reigen almost cums immediately. He grits his teeth and exhales sharply, letting go of his cock and willing himself not to finish early. It would be a shame to spend himself so soon and he wants nothing more than to spend all night staring into you.

“Like that?” You ask your audience, voice a little muffled now that you're turned away.

Several messages affirm that they do, in fact, like what they're seeing.

Reigen breathes heavily through his nose and rolls his chair closer to the monitor again. He takes a second to calm himself down, though he doesn't stop watching you wiggle your backside, and once he feels capable, he types out another request:

[1000 coins] - touch yourself

This time, he follows it up with a ‘please’ and you turn slightly to see what's happening.

You smirk and move back toward the bed, choosing to sit down and spread your legs this time. The view is still perfectly clear and Reigen finds that he likes this much better; he can see your pretty face, your tits and your wet pussy all at once. Hand firm on his dick, he starts to jerk off again.

“Do you like what you see?” You giggle, hand wandering southwards.

“Fuck, yeah I do.” Reigen groans, swiping his thumb over the head. The motion sends a shiver through his body and he fumbles with his free hand and keyboard to type out an affirmative answer.

You smile, coy, and stop your fingers just above your clit. “And what do we say when we want something?”

Reigen swears under his breath. He likes this; being forced to ask nicely and hope that he's given what he wants. He doesn't know why he enjoys it, but the idea of having to plead for your attention and his own release does something undeniable to his body, and he loves every second.

The flush on his face travels down his neck and burns the tips of his ears, spurred on by his myriad of emotions.

With one sweaty hand he types out:

please

touch yourself, please

The smile that comes to your face when you notice his message is positively wicked and your hand drops lower, gathering wetness. “I think you can ask even more nicely than that, can't you?”

He doesn't care that he's paid for a simple act. What he's getting right now is more arousing than anything he could have ever dreamt of receiving. The way his cock twitches in his hand suggests his body agrees. “Please.” Reigen whispers to his empty room, voice breaking. “Fuck, please, touch your fucking pussy for me.”

Panting and moaning with every stroke of his fist, Reigen shakily taps out another desperate response.

plsaase

pls

im begging u

It's obviously the right response because you do exactly as he asks: your fingers begin to brush over your clit and you gasp at the contact. Gently, you rub yourself in tiny circles. Your skin glistens in the light and even with the music playing, he can hear your moans and sighs when your touches speed up.

Reigen jerks himself off in time with your movements. His apartment fills with the wet, oily noises of his lubed up palm on his dick and his heavy breathing, broken only by his pathetic begging for more. “Oh god,” he whines, leaning forward in his seat to grip the edge of his desk. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

He wants to ask for more, to see you get even more explicit, however he worries that if he lets go of his desk he might keel over. Fortunately for Reigen, another request pings in. This one goes even further.

The anonymous user tips a significant amount and much to Reigen's horny delight, asks you to use one of the larger sex toys on the table next to your bed.

A few minutes pass in which you continue to touch your clit and Reigen realises that you're getting caught up in this yourself. You're so lost in your own pleasure that you're too busy to see what your audience want.

It turns him on no end.

Eventually, you force yourself to pause and glance at the chat. There are a few annoyed messages about you ignoring them, but you pay them no mind, instead saying a breathless thank you to the new requester and reaching for a sizable, pink dildo. It's thick and decently long, and you hold it out for him to see properly.

“Should I use this one?” Your voice is fraying at the edges, strained from all your noise.

Oh yeah

Fuck yeah use it

Do it

You don't appear to need much encouragement and you sit back on your elbows, legs spreading even wider as you rub the head of the fake cock over your pussy.

Reigen imagines that instead of cool, false plastic, it's his dick that you're grinding your hips into. He pictures himself between your legs, gently slapping the swollen tip of his cock against the soft, wet folds of your cunt whilst you squirm and groan in pleasure. His moans are getting louder now, unrestrained and wrecked, and he knows he sounds like a girl but he can't find it in himself to give a fuck.

Again, he almost cums, but rather than let it happen he allows himself to get as close as he dares and then stops touching completely. He has plenty of time to draw this out; you haven't even put the dildo in yet.

You're still circling it around your hole slowly, grinning and chewing on your lip in anticipation of what's to, rather ironically, come.

Sweat trickles down Reigen's neck. He's over stimulated and unbearably turned on, body red hot and flushed. He reaches for his drink again and takes a quick gulp before picking right up where he left off.

“Wanna see me fuck myself?” You tease, peering at the message box.

Reigen is the only one who responds. He knows it's likely because every other person in here is too busy getting off to answer, yet he seizes the chance to catch your attention.

yes please

Your warm smile returns and he finds himself smiling too, enjoying the way your expression softens. “You're a sweetheart, aren't you?” You say fondly, sitting up a bit more.

Reigen grins and nods, even though he knows you can't see him. He dials up his politeness, practically gagging for your attention, and moves his hand down to stroke along the sides of his dick, teasing himself as he type:.

yes ma'am

Something changes in your gaze at his message, hot and intense, and you start to circle your clit again. “Ask me again.” You sigh happily. “Be a good boy.”

Reigen's brain almost short circuits at your comment. He moans again and tips his head back, hand working hard between his legs. “Oh, my god.” He chokes out, scrambling to answer via his keyboard. “Fuck, that's- say that again.”

please ma'am

pls fuck urself

ill do anything i swear

just call me that again

You're clearly entertained by his request. Even more so, you appear to be turned on by it. Slow and steady, you ease the dildo into yourself, keening loudly at the sensation yet still managing to fulfill Reigen's request.

“Good boy,” you breathe, smiling wide. “You're such a good boy for me.”

Reigen makes a humiliating noise. It's a mix of a moan and a sob, and he stops jerking his cock in favour of fucking his own hand instead. His hips buck forward wildly, uncontrollable and desperate, and he attempts to match the tempo in which you fuck yourself.

He watches in awe as you drive the dildo into your cunt, arousal dripping down the length of it and leaving it shiny and slick.

“Oh, fuck,” Reigen chokes out breathlessly, grinding into his fist like he's fucking you himself. “Don't stop, fuck, don't stop.”

His moans mix with yours on screen and if he could bear to close his eyes, he might imagine that this is what it feels like to be inside you. As it is, he can't bear to look anywhere but at you.

Your hand is moving quickly now, pumping the toy in and out while you rub your clit just as fast, crying out in pleasure.

Reigen's girly moans pick up in pitch and he begs you with everything he has: “Keep going, please, I-ha! You feel so good, so good, fuck!”

As though you can hear his pleas, you don't relent your movements. Your tits bounce with the force that you're fucking yourself with and you groan every time you hit a good spot.

It's obvious that you're no longer playing along with whatever your audience wants; You're lost in the sensation and Reigen is completely beside himself, right there with you.

His chair rocks and creaks underneath his moving weight and he scrunches up his bare toes against the wooden flooring to stay put, listening to you as you continue to encourage him.

“You're my good boy, aren't you?” You pant, eyes closed. “Touching yourself just like I asked….”

“Yeah,” Reigen whimpers. “I swear, just for you, whatever you want.”

“Fuck,” you sigh on screen, angling the toy. “Fuck.”

Reigen can barely breathe. He's sweating profusely, rivulets trickling down his brow and blurring his vision, and he can feel something tight and white hot coiling in his lower belly.

The pressure is building slowly, growing with every pass of his fist and every moan you make on his monitor, and his ability to speak unravels. He's babbling about anything and everything, eyes darting from your pussy to your face, and the feeling in his belly spikes.

“Oh, god, oh fuck,” he whines, long and low. “I'm gonna cum, I'm- please, let me cum!” His pathetic moans hitch and in their lull, he hears you speak a single word that sends him crashing over the edge:

“Reigen!”

You cry his name quietly, sweeter than a prayer, and shudder as you climax with him.

Unable to stop it, Reigen's orgasm hits him so hard he almost blacks out for a moment. He cums hard, spilling all over his fist and stomach, his toes curling and body convulsing with intense pleasure. He ducks his head and shouts something unintelligible, drool dripping down from his open mouth to mix with the mess on his hand.

The aftershock of his orgasm has him spasming in its wake, muscles twitching and cramping as he heaves for breath. Reigen releases his cock and slumps back in his chair, panting hard like he's run a marathon.

He's fairly confident that it might be the best orgasm he's ever had.

On screen, the music has stopped and there's only the sound of your laboured breathing filling the silence. You're panting hard, pussy spread by your toy, and you look wrecked. Your hair is a mess, your eyes are half-lidded, and underneath you the blanket is soaked.

Reigen wipes the sweat from his forehead with his clean hand and takes a few minutes to gather his bearings. He sees you remove the toy slowly and place it back on the bedside table before you sit back down, cross legged, on the bed. You avoid the wet patch, wrinkling your nose and flipping the blanket over to prevent yourself from sitting on it, and you pause to catch your breath. Your chest rises and falls rapidly for a minute, and he watches you catch your breath.

Clearly you're a seasoned professional however, because you go back to checking your chat messages only minutes later. Every user in the room is overjoyed with your performance and Reigen has to agree. He's never seen a porno anywhere near as sexy as what he just witnessed and he's not sure he ever will.

Reigen reaches over for the box of tissues next to his computer and carefully wipes up the mess on his hand. There's cum on the floor too and when he's confident that his jelly-like legs won't let him fall off the chair, he leans down to clean it up.

Once everything is less sticky, Reigen checks the chat. There are a good few messages pinging up and they make him smile, big and stupid, and more than a little smug:

Who is Reigen?

Fuck, he's a lucky guy

Wish I was him

Listening to you moan his name, watching your face whilst you'd fucked yourself silly, it's all imprinted on his brain forever.

He's still reeling over the fact that it was his name on your lips as you came. You've never shown interest in him like that, at least not to his knowledge, and if you've been getting yourself off to the thought of him anywhere near as much as he has to you, Reigen wonders if it might be worth catching a few more of these streams until he can find the courage to see if you might want to to go out sometime.

You're putting your lingerie back on when he looks back up to you again. There's a glow to you that only appears after a good fucking and Reigen's stomach summersaults. He knows that the small crush he has on you is going to snowball dramatically now.

He won't be able to look you in the eye again without thinking of the sounds you've made tonight. That being said, he’ll worry about how to deal with the awkwardness and the shame of spying on his subordinate once he's sober tomorrow morning. For now, he’ll enjoy the rest of his evening watching you.

You don't acknowledge the chat’s questions about who you're thinking of in your intimate throes, instead choosing to finish getting dressed and then grabbing your phone from where it sits at the end of your bed.

“Now I really should reply to my boss,” you tell the chat, leaning across the gap to click something with your mouse. “One second.”

The stream mutes and your fingers move back and forth over the phone keypad quickly. There's silence, and then Reigen's cell vibrates loudly. It scares the shit out of him and he snatches it up, staring at the screen.

Sorry. I was playing online. Maybe we can hang out tomorrow?

Reigen grins and fires back the smartest reply he can think of.

[Reigen] - Don't wear yourself out ;)

On his monitor, he sees you laugh silently, head tipped back and smiling wide, and his heart skips a beat.

Tomorrow it is.

#reigen arataka #mp100 #mob psycho 100 #reigen arataka x reader #reigen smut #MP100 #mp100 reigen #reigen/reader #reigen x reader #reigen arataka/reader #reigen fluff #mp 100 reigen #mob psycho reigen #my fics #reigen x you #reigen arataka x you

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freedomfireflies · 5 months

Note

I dont know if you have any teasers for what youre working on next but …if you have any for the open relationship one, I would love some crumbs 👀

And now here you are, wondering if you really are about to go through with it.

“You…you want to help?” you ask him again, and he nods.

“If you want me to.” Another squeeze to your knee. “Kitten, there’s no pressure here. It’s just a conversation. And if we decide no, then we won’t, and it’ll be all right.”

“But it’s…I mean, won’t it be like cheating?” Your hands begin to twist together on your lap. “What if you regret it? Or what if she regrets it?”

“We won’t. We agreed to this,” he says, and he’s still so calm. “This only works if she and I are honest. We know that. And we want to try new things, new people. Plus, she adores you. I do, too. But if you think it feels like cheating, then we don’t have to. We can end the conversation right now.”

A beat. He lets this settle.

“But if you want to try,” he continues softly, “then we’ll ease into it. We’ll go at a pace you’re comfortable. Yeah? This is all up to you.”

You feel your cheeks growing warm. He’s so good. “What if I’m not any good? And you’ve wasted your time? And I made this weird for no reason?”

He smiles, and his eyes are like meadows. Soft and serene. He straightens up just enough to brush his thumb along your chin and relax you.

“There is no possible world where you aren’t good,” he murmurs, and somehow…you believe him. “But if you’re nervous, we’ll plan for that, too. We’ll communicate. I can help you find what makes you feel good.”

You walked into his apartment—into their apartment—sure you wouldn’t be doing it. Sure that there was no way you’d ever believe this to be a good idea.

But here you are, seriously considering it. Teetering on the edge of agreement, ready to fall into his arms.

“Are you sure you want to?” you ask him again. “Are you sure you don’t just feel bad for me?”

His brows pinch together, and he seems confused. But he’s still smiling. “Kitten, believe me. There is nothing I have ever wanted to do more. Sex is intimate and it’s tricky and it’s confusing. And you should only ever be with someone that makes you feel good. Feel safe. And if I can be that person for you, then I want to be. As long as you want me to be, too.”

And you do. You do. You aren’t sure if you even realized how badly until now.

You nod, and his touch lowers. “Okay,” you decide. “Okay, I want to.”

~~~

I know we can't really tell from the preview, but it's just gonna be reader and Harry! There won't be a third party! 💞

Based on this request!

#harry #harry styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles x you #harry styles x reader #harry styles blurb #harry styles teaser #new sneak peek

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ingravinoveritas · 3 months

Note

(Note that @angelsadvocate96 also included a screenshot of AL's post, which I am omitting here since we have two already.)

I did see this Insta story yesterday, and again...wow. Before I go any further, I want to be clear that my issue with this has nothing to do with it being "inappropriate" (depending on your definition, of course). I am by no means a prude, and it is not and should not be shocking that Michael and AL have had sex. We know this, and we have proof of this, so that is not a big thing. I do, however, think it is interesting that just a few days ago, we had Michael being David's "boyfriend" and now here's AL seemingly marking her territory again. So that makes me wonder what has suddenly changed.

Also, as angelsadvocate96 mentioned, this does indeed seem to be a Georgia-style brag...but it falls flat. It doesn't help that "sleep next to" is just a really weird turn of phrase, and could as easily mean AL and Michael's beds are next to each other (a la every 1950s TV sitcom) as it does that they're sleeping in the same bed. It also stops short of being overtly sexual (because she didn't say "sleep with"), and so ends up in that weird place of trying to be scandalous, yet also not. But when you have Georgia out here five years ago talking about how much she and David enjoy anal sex and possibly her pegging him, Anna's "innuendos" just seem completely tepid in comparison.

The other thing that stood out to me is the mention of Ian McKellen, the #lifegoals hashtag, and Anna seemingly bragging about the fact that one of the most important parts of her relationship with Michael is meeting celebrities. We knew this already from the Dolittle premiere and the now-infamous picture of her meeting Rami Malek, as well as the fact that she follows many of Michael's co-stars and other famous figures connected to him on social media, and has had a history of replying primarily to comments from those people, to the exclusion of most everyone else. But I'm genuinely confused as to why you would ever want to give that impression of your relationship, especially on a post that's supposed to be promoting a TV appearance of his.

Her post also made me wonder how aware Anna really is of Sir Ian or his work, as I wasn't sure I could see her being a big fan of his...until I realized she shared this post from her and Michael's PR person (@dobbscld). The OP mentioned Sir Ian specifically, and knowing that, it suddenly all made sense. But it also struck me that, rather than make a post or story of her own to promote Michael, AL shared a post from PR...and once again made a post about Michael into a post about herself. Just as we've seen before.

Honestly, I don't think I would even mind this post or similar posts AL has made that much if it felt like Michael was even remotely a part of it. But it's the very fact that he never talks about her or their relationship (and not in a "he's a private person" kind of way) that makes it so awkward. And here he was going on Graham Norton to promote his directorial debut--a project that is hugely important to him--and Anna just brings it down to the most base level, making it seem like she does not take Michael or his work seriously. And I can't think of anything more embarrassing than that.

So yes, that was my reaction to AL's Insta story yesterday. Again, this is just my perspective, and I'm glad to hear from folks in the comments on this post with their thoughts. Thanks for writing in! x

#moriarty-sisters #kime11e #angelsadvocate96 #reply post #michael sheen #welsh seduction machine #the graham norton show #it's like the more she tries to make people think there is something to be jealous of #the more it seems like there is nothing to be jealous of #and the more she tries to look like she owns him the more obvious it is she doesn't #because how in the world can you take a relationship like this seriously #i'm genuinely asking #choices #not all of them good #but i will leave it to my followers to make up their own minds #anna lundberg #discourse

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xomakara · 3 months

Text

Crash Landing

SUMMARY | You meet Jungwoo in a space station and you both instantly hit it off. PAIRING | Jungwoo/Reader GENRE | space theme au, smut with little (?) plot, unprotected sex (wrap it up everyone!), oral sex (both male/female receiving/giving), general perversion RATING | Mature LENGTH | 6,466 words AUTHOR’S NOTE | Debating on making a part 2 or like a space theme series or something. Like I don’t think I’ve delved deep enough into the space lore haha. Was it weird to have that space/alien fight in the middle of the chapter? No idea. I’ve played to much Mass Effect lately so I was kind of, sort of, inspired to write this.

What do ya’ll think? A part 2 or like a series? Maybe a different pairing? IDK lol.

You open your eyes and stared at the white interior of the suite you inhabited. All white with no colors...how boring. You let out a sigh and swung your feet over the bed, not having slept for nearly two days straight. Even after a nap of a few hours, you were still very tired.

You walked towards the door of your room, the automatic door opening when you reached it. As you stepped out of your suite, you peered down the halls of the space station that you were residing in until your next mission could be scheduled. Nothing interesting ever happened on board this station; people came and went, making it their home base while they completed various missions all over the galaxy, but most didn't even spend more than a week here before they were off again. It was just an orbital station that housed different ships when they weren't traveling around.

However, when people came here, they usually came to be seen by many other space travelers and scientists as well as rich merchants who wanted to conduct business deals in private areas and who had lots of money to do so. For these reasons, it was quite crowded.

"Maybe I'll go stop by the bar and see if there's any exciting events happening." You thought aloud to yourself as you made your way through the corridors towards the main lobby.

You continued walking until you entered the main room where the bar stood. Although you hadn't been able to spot anything remotely interesting, you hoped that maybe you'd find something tonight. You walked up to the counter and ordered a drink, the bartender knowing exactly what you wanted since he had served you before and already knew your preferences. He soon handed you your drink, leaning against the counter as his co-worker manned the bar.

"Anything interesting happened? Do you know?" You asked the bartender, noticing his gaze shift from you to the wall behind him, likely looking for news. The bartender chuckled lightly and shook his head.

"Nothing really. We have a couple of freighter pilots from one of the smaller colonies arriving later today to sign paperwork, but other than that, nothing much is going on here."

You nodded in understanding, sitting down at a nearby table as you began sipping on your drink. A feeling of boredom consumed you once again as you sat there, your thoughts drifting away into a distant land. After a short time, the bartender placed another drink in front of you.

"Thanks." You said, smiling slightly at the bartender as you took another sip of your drink. You began wondering about something and looked around the room. Not seeing anyone that might help, you spoke out loud. "Hey..."

The bartender immediately turned his attention back to you and smiled. "Yeah?"

"I'm wondering...do you have any other information that might be useful? I came for adventure and just being stuck in Neo Station for too long is making me a little stir crazy."

"Hmm, what kind of adventures are you wanting to get into?" The bartender curiously asked.

"Oh, just some sort of excitement. Anything would do, really." You said cheerfully. "Do you happen to know of anyone that might have a job for me? I am an experienced fighter and strategist. I can pretty much take on any mission if it comes to it."

"Not that I know. But maybe one of the merchants might know." The bartender said. "Oh, Neo Security might have some jobs if you're inclined to get into those sorts of things. They don't pay much, though."

"I'm not so worried about the pay," you laughed as you made your way out of the bar. "It's all about the adventure and experience!"

You quickly made your way outside, stepping onto the walkway towards the large window of the station. Before you got to the window however, you stopped, gazing out into space for a moment, admiring how beautiful it truly was. All of the stars, planets, nebulas and countless other galaxies stretched far out beyond the reaches of human sight, each individual one unique in its own way. It was amazing to think that each star system contained life forms, from tiny single cell organisms to the huge, multi-planeted species like yourselves.

The possibilities seemed endless.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?" A male voice said next to you.

You looked up to see a very handsome male looking out the large window with you. You blushed softly as you gazed upon him, instantly becoming more attracted to him than you were to most others, although you tried your best to hide it. You smiled at him and spoke. "Yes, it is beautiful. So vast. I feel like I've only scratched the surface of everything that's out there."

He smiled at you, nodding. "Indeed. Humans will never fully understand how large our universe actually is, and I don't believe we'll ever reach it. But I guess that's why we should appreciate it as much as we can now."

You both stared out into space, listening to the noises coming from the station filled with human and alien species alike. After a minute or two, you turned back to face him. "I'm Y/N, by the way."

"Jungwoo. Nice to meet you, Y/N." Jungwoo said, extending his hand towards you.

You smiled at him and took his hand in yours. "Likewise, Jungwoo."

"So, what are you doing out here alone, Y/N?" Jungwoo questioned.

You shrugged and sighed, not meeting Jungwoo's eyes. "I'm bored and haven't done anything interesting lately."

"Really? What kinds of things do you normally do?" Jungwoo inquired.

"Well, normally I would go exploring a new planet and look for animals and plant life that humans have yet to discover. All the while, making sure humanity is safe and keeping the peace. Unfortunately, since my ship is in maintenance right now, there aren't many places to go." You replied sadly. "And I have no idea where my crew went."

Jungwoo nodded in understanding, a smile on his face. "I understand completely. My crew always has trouble finding places to explore whenever we visit a new planet, either because we're restricted or we just simply run out of places to look."

"That's why I love exploration. You just never know what you're going to find, do you?" You grinned widely.

Jungwoo grinned back at you and shook his head. "No, you don't. That's what makes it fun!"

After exchanging pleasantries, you and Jungwoo spent the rest of the night talking about your hobbies and interests, trying to make conversation and pass the time until your ship was repaired. At the end of the evening, Jungwoo gave you his number in case you needed a companion or company on future excursions.

"Thank you for talking with me tonight, Jungwoo. It really helped pass the time." You said happily, giving him a kiss on the cheek.

He grabbed your wrist gently, stopping you from leaving. "Let me ask you something first." He stated firmly.

You frowned and furrowed your eyebrows. "Okay. What is it?"

Jungwoo ran his thumb along the inside of your wrist. "Are you just as attracted to me as I am to you? Because if you are, then maybe this night doesn't have to end right here."

Your heart skipped a beat and your breath caught in your throat. Your mind began racing with a million different possibilities, many of them leading to unspeakable sexual encounters between the two of you. You felt the heat rise in your cheeks and Jungwoo noticed.

"Y/N?" He inquired, giving you a warm smile.

You nodded slowly, unable to speak. Jungwoo leaned closer, closing the gap between your lips. With a soft moan escaping your mouth, your lips parted slightly and Jungwoo slid his tongue across your lips, gently stroking it before you slowly opened your mouth. His tongue darted into your mouth, exploring every inch, as you kissed him back eagerly.

Jungwoo pulled away, grinning widely. "So? Are you just as attracted to me as I am to you?"

You looked at him, a coy grin forming on your face. "I think you know the answer to that question, Jungwoo."

"Good." He whispered softly. "Because you are extremely attractive."

A blush appeared on your face, making you become flushed as Jungwoo slowly backed away, running his fingers through his hair as he looked at you with lustful eyes. No one else was around but you grabbed his hand and led him towards your suite.

"Where are we going?" Jungwoo whispered as he followed you closely, still clutching your hand tightly.

"You'll see in a minute." You replied as you led him towards your suite.

When you got inside, you pushed Jungwoo against the nearest wall, kissing him passionately as you unbuttoned his shirt and pulled it off of him. Once you got it removed, you glanced at his chest and gasped softly.

"What is it?" He breathed softly, looking down at you.

You gazed up at him and whispered, "I love your body."

Jungwoo smirked and bit down gently on your bottom lip. "Has it been awhile since you had someone?"

"A long ass while," You moaned as his fingers trailed down your sides. "My squadmates not included. They never satisfied me sexually, which is a big part of what drives me to seek companionship elsewhere."

Jungwoo chuckled as he bent down to kiss you. "If you want, I could make sure you were completely satisfied. In fact, I guarantee it."

You smiled seductively at him, sliding your hands up his arms. "Can you?"

"You bet I can. Just give me permission." Jungwoo gazed down at you.

You smiled, leaning forward and pressing your lips against his, softly kissing him back. You pulled back after a few moments and nibbled on his lower lip. Jungwoo growled softly, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you closer. You melted into him as he wrapped his arms around you tightly, guiding you backwards until your knees hit the bed.

You looked into his dark brown eyes and moved your lips over his. His kisses were gentle at first, but as they grew deeper, his kisses became passionate and urgent, wanting to devour your entire body. You responded, running your hands up and down his chest as he explored your body with his. You moaned softly as his hands slid underneath your shirt and caressed your bare skin. You looked into his eyes as he continued touching you, watching the passion growing within them. As his touches became bolder, your breathing became heavier. When he finally pulled your shirt off, you groaned loudly, your hands going to the buttons of his pants.

Once you had them undone, you reached inside and found his hardened member. He moaned in pleasure as you stroked him slowly, gently squeezing and moving his shaft around. Jungwoo closed his eyes, enjoying the sensations you were giving him. When he opened his eyes again, he saw that you were staring into his eyes intently. You lowered your head, pressing your lips against his erect penis, licking the tip of it gently. He moaned deeply as you did this. He grabbed your head and brought you closer, encouraging you to continue.

As you licked and sucked on him more aggressively, he let out a small whimper, tugging on your hair roughly. You moaned, continuing to work his penis with your hand, sucking harder on him. His moans grew louder and more intense as he pressed himself even harder into your mouth. Finally, when he couldn't take anymore, he pulled away, painting your face with his cum.

You licked his cum off of your lips, grinning as you watched his facial expressions. "Did I satisfy you?" You asked slyly.

"Oh god yes," He gasped, moving down your body to help discard the rest of your clothes. "And now it's your turn to be satisfied..."

"How was your rest, captain?" Haechan, your engineer, asked as he checked the equipment around you.

"Fine, thanks." You replied. "I finally managed to sleep after those two grueling days of not sleeping at all. How about you?"

Haechan shrugged. "I slept alright, I suppose. I was still tossing and turning a bit, but I managed to fall asleep eventually."

"At least you managed to sleep!" Renjun, your pilot and navigator, called from the cockpit. "Me, I was just laying there staring at the ceiling and trying to count sheep. Tried to stay awake all day yesterday, but I failed miserably. There's nothing worse than being extremely exhausted and then not being able to sleep at all!"

"Tell me about it." Winwin, your medic, added as he tried to stifle a yawn. "As soon as I try to sleep, my mind starts racing with ideas and worries and I can't get rid of them. I've been waking up every hour or so and laying awake for awhile, only to finally drift off to sleep again after a few hours."

Everyone paused in their work for a brief moment to discuss how they all slept. It was nice to hear that everyone else was struggling with similar issues. At least you weren't alone. You let out a small chuckle, watching as Haechan and Renjun bickered quietly.

"Where's the rest of the team?" You inquired, looking around. Everyone else seemed busy with their duties and you couldn't see anyone else.

"They went to collect some cargo." Winwin replied, reading off a holographic screen that displayed the list of supplies that they needed to gather. "I think Mark and Jaehyun went to get some weapons and armor while Doyoung and Taeyong went to collect medical supplies. Johnny went to stock up on food."

"And Jaemin? Where is he?" You asked.

Haechan chuckled, shaking his head. "Weird kid doesn't seem interested in helping us gather supplies. Seems like he wants to go take care of something else first. Maybe he found a cute little animal he wants to bring back."

Everyone chuckled at this.

"If that's the case, then I hope it isn't a rat or something." Renjun said, pointing his finger at Haechan. "I'm tired of him always bringing back rodents and bugs as pets."

You let out a sigh. "Hey, as long as he doesn't shoot me and his squadmates in the back, I don't care. Let the weird kids do whatever they want, as long as they're helpful. Don't worry, we won't hold it against them."

Everyone slowly nodded their heads and resumed their tasks, which included cleaning and setting up various supplies in preparation for the upcoming expedition. You let out a sigh of relief as you worked alongside your crewmates. At least everything was getting done. As you finished organizing the rest of the supplies, you sent a message to everyone.

"Alright guys, we're almost ready. Everything seems to be set up and in order. Should be going out soon. Crew, keep an eye out for anything suspicious or unusual, okay? Squad, arm yourself with your weaponry and be prepared for battle."

You heard a series of responses throughout the ship, everyone agreeing to your instructions and telling you they were ready for the task ahead.

Finally, you heard your squadmate and science officer, Doyoung, reply. "We're ready, captain! Weapons are loaded and all equipment is operational. We're waiting on everyone else to finish gathering supplies before we leave."

With everyone on board, you gave the signal to launch the vessel, and it began floating upwards into space. Once it had cleared the station, you gave the command to accelerate and left the station behind.

You were mindlessly walking around your ship, performing maintenance and such when you heard someone call your name. Looking up, you saw Johnny, one of your squadmates and your second-in-command, standing at the door to the bridge, wearing a wide grin on his face. "So I heard that you met someone new yesterday. Any details?"

You chuckled at his teasing and shook your head. "Who's asking?"

"You met someone?" Mark, another squadmate and everythingman, asked as he joined Johnny in the doorway. "I thought you were staying in your suite all day?"

"I stopped by the bar last night and met this guy." You explained, walking into the bridge. "Why are you all suddenly curious about who I met? Scared that I might run off with him or something?"

"And leave this wonderful crew behind? No way." Taeyong, the cook and cultural advisor, chimed in. "Come on, tell us about this mysterious man. Did ya'll fuck?"

"Oh come on, none of you will even admit to being jealous that I may have met someone else?" You said, rolling your eyes.

Jaehyun, a squadmate and quartermaster, immediately shook his head and held up his hands in protest. "Not me! Honest! Of course I'd be happy for you if you met someone."

Renjun glared at Jaehyun. "Says the guy that always wants to fuck Y/N after a mission."

Haechan raised an eyebrow and smiled at Renjun. "And you know this because..."

"I have eyes and ears." Renjun scoffed. "Jaehyun's always sniffing around Y/N after missions, so naturally I've seen and heard quite a bit."

You rubbed your temples. You were the only female amongst a crew and squad of horny males. It was a wonder any of you could maintain a level head at all times. Fortunately, you hadn't encountered too many difficulties with your relationships. Sure, you've slept with some of your squadmates, but you've never gotten emotionally attached to anyone.

Not yet, anyway.

You looked around the bridge, watching your crew and squadmates interact with each other. They were all so friendly and caring, despite their varying backgrounds and personalities. You had originally been afraid of interacting with the rest of your crew, considering your coveted status as a Neo operative and the constant scrutiny that came along with it. However, it seemed like none of that mattered to the others. They welcomed you with open arms, accepting you for who you were. And you were glad for that. You didn't need any special treatment. Just to be treated as an equal, and you felt like they did just that. You wouldn't trade these people for anything.

"Hey," you said softly, causing everyone to turn and look at you. "You guys are the best crew and squad that I could ever ask for. I wouldn't trade you guys or run off with any other team for the world. We've been through a lot of shit together, and I couldn't imagine doing this without you."

A smile broke across all of their faces, their smiles growing wider as they watched you continue speaking.

"And even though we haven't known each other very long, you've become family to me. And I'm thankful that you're willing to put up with me and my bullshit."

"The amount of trouble you put us through," Jaemin, another squadmate and technician, laughed, holding his stomach. "But hey, we're used to it by now."

Johnny punched Jaemin in the shoulder playfully. "And you love every second of it."

Everyone continued laughing and joking with each other as you made your way over to the main console to start checking on all the systems on the ship. The others joined you as you inspected and ran tests on various components, making sure everything was working properly. While you were focused on monitoring the systems, a notification appeared on the holographic display next to you.

"Captain, one of our sensors detected something out of the ordinary coming from the surface of the planet below." Haechan called out. "It looks like the coordinates for a shuttle bay. Something strange is definitely going on."

You stood up and walked towards the viewport. All the other members of your crew gathered around you, curiously watching as you peered down onto the planet below.

"There's no doubt about it." You muttered. "Something's wrong down there."

You watched intently as you saw the faint outline of a spaceship hovering above the shuttle bay. You could barely make out what the thing was; it was far away and it was hard to distinguish. But you knew exactly what it was. You were intimately familiar with every spaceship design that existed within the Alliance.

This wasn't one of the Alliance ships. It wasn't even close. You had no idea where this thing had come from, but there was no doubt that it wasn't friendly. A shiver passed through your body, causing you to lean closer to the viewing window.

"Renjun, take us closer to the shuttle bay." You ordered. "Get us as close as possible without getting shot down."

"Copy that, captain." He responded.

"Doyoung and Taeyong, initiate the ships defense. Make sure we aren't caught off guard." You added.

"On it." Doyoung confirmed.

"Haechan, begin a scan on the area. Find out what we're dealing with."

"Got it." Haechan responded.

"Winwin, standby unless needed." You instructed your medic. You turned back to the rest of your crew. "The rest of you, loadout all weapons and equipment. Arm yourselves and get ready for battle. Squad, let's go find ourselves some answers."

Your orders were quickly carried out, and you and your team silently headed out of the room and down the hallway to the hangar deck. When you reached the bottom floor, you opened the large doors and stepped outside, followed by the rest of your squad. You and your squadmates took up defensive positions as you scanned the area with your visors.

It was then that you spotted several black dots moving around in the distance. They seemed to be approaching the shuttle bay and were probably heading inside.

"Scans indicate that there are four lifeforms nearby." Doyoung reported. "Two of them appear to be armed with standard rifles and pistols, the other two are carrying automatic assault rifles. No idea what they are."

You glanced over at your squad. Their expressions were grim. Not only were you uncertain about whether these beings would be friendly, but you weren't even entirely sure how dangerous they were.

"Alright everyone," you began. "Standby and be alert. We'll figure this out as fast as we can. In the meantime, just stay quiet and wait for my commands."

They all nodded their heads in understanding and stood perfectly still, waiting for further instruction.

As the black dots approached, you began taking careful steps backwards. They seemed harmless enough, but you were not taking any chances. One wrong move and it could lead to disaster. Fortunately, the other members of your squad stayed alert and were able to act accordingly. When the black dots were close enough, a series of bullets zipped past you, narrowly missing you. Without hesitation, the aliens fired back, riddling the surface of your ship with blaster bolts.

"Fuck!" Mark cursed loudly. "These things aren't fucking around!"

"Mark, Jaehyun! To the left! Johnny, Jaemin! To the right! Come on, move!" You yelled. Your squad instantly complied and moved swiftly, ducking and weaving between the different sets of walls, leaving the invaders exposed. A few more shots rang out, tearing apart pieces of the hull and a couple of windows. You were lucky that your shields absorbed most of the damage, otherwise it could have been catastrophic.

"Okay, let's move. Squad, split up and cover all sides. We don't want these guys sneaking up on us while we're spread out."

"On it, captain!" Both Jaemin and Jaehyun acknowledged. As the squad split up, you moved towards the closest wall and crouched down, allowing your bulk to shield you from any stray blaster bolts. After listening closely, you determined that the enemy was on the other side of the building, trying to figure out where you and your crew were hiding.

You grabbed a grenade launcher and waited for your comrades to return to their posts before setting off towards the closest wall. You slowly peeked over the top of the building, your eyes trained on the other side. Several of the black dots were crouching behind the outer walls, apparently looking for you. However, the rest of them were either huddled together or stood alone in small groups, watching the building, almost as if they expected you to come out of hiding.

Taking careful aim, you lobbed the grenade towards the building where the majority of the black dots were located. You threw it as hard as you could and prayed that it would do some damage. When the grenade exploded, all hell broke loose. Dozens of blasts rang out, and several of the black dots went flying into the air. Before you could even react, the others dropped their guns and tried to flee, but were intercepted by your teammates. You witnessed some fierce hand-to-hand combat, with everyone involved using every weapon at their disposal.

Several aliens got thrown around and pinned to the ground, but soon enough, you and your team managed to hold the line and stop the attack. When it was all over, you breathed a sigh of relief and gazed around, assessing the damage. You were surprised that your squad managed to defeat so many enemies so easily. You guessed that these aliens were only the tip of the iceberg, and that it would be impossible to hold off such a large number of foes without help.

After collecting your thoughts, you radioed Renjun and the rest of your squad. "Alright guys, the fight is over. Everyone get some rest and reload your weapons. Let's keep a low profile until the coast is clear."

All of your orders were immediately obeyed, and your entire crew headed back inside to get some much needed rest. You checked your gun again, ensuring that it was fully loaded and that your grenade launcher was still operational. Despite the fact that your squad held the enemy off easily, you were certain that it was only a matter of time before they regrouped and tried to attack again. At least this time they won't have the element of surprise.

Hopefully.

“Finally back in Neo Station!” Mark called out as he walked off the ship. “I’m gonna take a long ass nap in the barracks until the next mission.”

After hours of killing aliens and avoiding being killed by alien weaponry, your squad was finally back on Neo Station. You were eager to check on the status of your ship, and see if any of the damages made on the ship could be repaired. It seemed like a good idea to have an experienced mechanic inspect the ship once the adrenaline wore off. Luckily, Haechan and Jaemin were able to examine your ship and give you a report on what repairs might be necessary.

Renjun groaned, stretching his limbs. “Same. I’m gonna try to get some sleep.”

“You’ve been cranky man.” Haechan laughed as he joined the two. “Sleep will do us good.”

“I’m heading to med bay to stock up on supplies.” Winwin muttered and turned to Doyoung. “Care to join me? The science wards are near there.”

“Sure.” Doyoung replied and headed in the same direction as Winwin.

“I’m gonna go hang out in the mess hall.” Taeyong ran off, leaving you with Jaehyun and Johnny. Jaemin seemed to have run off somewhere else.

“Weird guy.” Johnny commented as he watched the younger guy’s fading back.

“Leave the weird kids alone,” you playfully smacked Johnny’s arm. You looked at both him and Jaehyun. “What have you guys got planned?”

“Actually, we were hoping you might want to join us.” Jaehyun said with a smile.

“Really?” you questioned.

“Yeah.” Jaehyun smiled. “Let’s go have some fun, captain.”

"Lead the way."

You followed Jaehyun and Johnny towards a club that was filled with men and exotic female dancers of humans and alien species. There was a long bar at the front of the club that was decorated with dozens of drink bottles, and was surrounded by several seating areas, including couches and chairs. Some men sat alone in one of the booths, drinking themselves silly.

“A gentleman’s club?” You gave Jaehyun a look. “Really?”

“Of course it is! This is Neo Station after all. What did you expect?” Jaehyun teased.

“Some people prefer more subtle entertainment.”

Jaehyun rolled his eyes. “Subtle entertainment? Like the night you met someone new?”

You rolled your eyes. “I meant drinking in a lounge or at the bar. Not a gentleman’s club.”

“Where’s the fun in that?” Johnny asked. “This place is amazing!”

“If you say so.” You shrugged. “I should’ve gone with Taeyong to the mess hall…”

“Come on! I’ll buy you drinks all night!” Jaehyun insisted. “And girls! Lots and lots of girls!”

“You two can have the girls.” You looked around the club. “But I see some eye candy calling my name.”

Johnny looked in the same direction you were looking, a smirk on his face. “Ahhhh, so that’s your new friend? He’s handsome but not as handsome as me.”

Jaehyun raised an eyebrow before letting out a laugh. “We’re not going to see you in the next few days, are we?”

“Nope!” You nodded. “I’m gonna have fun tonight.”

Both Jaehyun and Johnny smirked at each other. “Have fun and use protection, captain.”

The two of them waved goodbye as you made your way through the crowd. When you finally found him, you noticed that he had already settled himself into a seat. The sight of you drew his attention, and he grinned widely when he saw you approach.

“Y/N,” Jungwoo greeted you as you sat beside him. He placed his hand on yours. “Weird place for you to show up at.”

You nodded over to your squad mates as they were watching a sexy alien woman dance seductively for the crowd. “My squadmates dragged me out here.”

“Not exactly your scene, is it?” Jungwoo asked as he slid a finger along the palm of your hand.

“As hot as the dancers are, they’re not my cup of tea.” You placed a hand on his knee. “You’re more my type.”

He smiled mischievously. “Had to come back for more, huh?”

You let out a laugh, slowly moving in closer to him. “It looks like it.”

He leaned in and gently kissed you. His lips were warm and inviting, which caused goosebumps to rise all over your body. You could feel yourself getting lost in the kiss, forgetting about everything else around you. He pulled away slightly and whispered in your ear. “Wanna get out of here?”

Your breath caught in your throat. “Oh god, yes.”

You led Jungwoo out of the club and into a nearby alleyway. It took several minutes to get there, and during that time, you continued kissing him fervently, enjoying every second of his embrace. When you reached the alleyway, you wrapped your arms around him tightly, causing him to chuckle.

“Don’t worry, no one’s coming.” He told you.

You paused for a moment. “Are you sure?”

“Absolutely.” He replied with a grin.

Before you knew it, Jungwoo pushed you against the wall and pressed his lips against yours. You could taste his minty breath as he started to explore your mouth, slipping his tongue inside of your mouth to stroke against yours. You felt him push his hands under your shirt, running them up and down your bare stomach.

“Fuck, Y/N.” He moaned softly as he continued exploring your mouth. “You’re so beautiful.”

You couldn’t help but shiver at his words. Jungwoo was definitely a very handsome man, but hearing those words from him was making you weak in the knees. He stopped kissing you momentarily and looked deep into your eyes. “Let's head back to my place so that I can take care of you."

His tone left no room for argument. You simply nodded and allowed him to guide you out of the alley. You enjoyed the walk to his suite, mostly because it gave you time to calm your racing heart and regain your composure. Once you arrived at his suite, Jungwoo grabbed your hand and led you inside.

"You have a nice suite." You looked around the living area. It wasn't as luxurious as some of the places you've seen on Earth, but it was decent enough for an officer.

"Thanks." He smiled as he moved forward to wrap his arms around you. "It's nothing compared to your suite though. Nothing but the best for one of the best captains I know."

"I never told you that I was a captain...”

“Of course you never told me…” He leaned in close and kissed you again. “Didn't need to. I just know how great of a person you are.”

You melted at his words. The sexual tension between you and Jungwoo was practically combustible, and it wasn't hard to tell that he was just as attracted to you.

“How great?” You asked softly as he pushed you against the wall.

“Beyond great.” He nipped at your lower lip, causing you to whimper.

“Then prove it.” You whispered as he slipped his hand under your bra.

Jungwoo's lips traveled down your neck as he slowly unclasped your bra. Your skin felt like fire as he gently caressed your nipples.

“Fuck.” Jungwoo whispered. “I love these tits of yours.”

He ran his hands down your breasts, squeezing them softly. You moaned softly, allowing him to continue playing with your breasts.

He lifted your top up, exposing your bare stomach. His eyes lit up at the sight of your toned abs. With quick movements, he slipped off your top, sending your lacy black bra flying across the room. Jungwoo gazed down at your naked chest. His fingers traced their way down to your stomach, where he traced your abdomen with his fingertips. His touch sent chills throughout your entire body.

He lifted you to the countertop and slowly lowered his lips to your belly button. His tongue flicked against your sensitive skin, causing you to moan even louder. Jungwoo didn't stop there. He continued trailing kisses down your stomach, his hands at the band of your pants. With light tugging motions, he managed to pull them off of you. They fell onto the floor with a thud, leaving you sitting in only your panties. Jungwoo stood up straight and gave you another admiring look.

“Like what you see?” You questioned playfully.

“God damn, you're fucking gorgeous.” He growled as he ripped off his own clothes before dropping to his knees in front of you.

With quick movements, he spread your legs open and positioned himself between them. He tugged on your panties, pulling them down until they were pooled at your ankles.

“Now taste me,” You ordered as you grabbed hold of his hair and guided his face to your pussy.

He quickly obliged. His tongue snaked its way into your dripping pussy, causing you to let out a loud moan. His tongue moved in circles, swirling around your clit and flicking lightly against it. He paid extra attention to your sensitive spot, pleasuring you to the fullest.

When he felt that you were ready to cum, he brought his face back up to your clit. Using his fingers, he circled it lightly while rubbing it against your clit. You began to thrash your head back and forth, unable to contain your orgasm any longer. You screamed loudly as you came, sending vibrations through Jungwoo's head. He buried his face into your pussy as you cried out in pleasure.

After a few moments, he pulled his head from your pussy and quickly wiped his face with a napkin. “Fuck, I need to be inside you right now.”

He positioned himself between your legs and pushed himself inside of you. You groaned as you adjusted to his size.

“You’re so tight.” He panted as he held himself up by bracing his hands on the countertop underneath you. “Fucking tight.”

He continued thrusting slowly inside of you. You closed your eyes and concentrated on feeling every inch of his dick move within you.

“Does it feel good?” He asked after a minute of continuous thrusting.

“Oh my god, yes!” You moaned. “Keep doing that. Fuck, don’t stop.”

Jungwoo let out a small laugh. “There will be plenty more if you keep begging like that.”

He slowly increased his pace, allowing you to enjoy every second of his large cock penetrating your tight pussy. Soon enough, he picked up the pace again, increasing his speed.

“Do you feel good, Jungwoo?” You asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Feelings mutual.” He gasped as he pounded harder and faster inside of you.

You bit your lip as he pounded his dick into you. It felt so good having his cock slide in and out of your pussy. His hips moved forcefully, driving his cock deeper inside of you. You bit your lip again, trying to fight off your impending orgasm.

“Cum for me, Y/N. Cum on my dick.” He grunted.

You obeyed his command without hesitation. “Fuck! Jungwoo!”

Your body shook violently as your orgasm swept through you. Your entire body tightened, causing you to scream out in ecstasy. Jungwoo moaned as he drove himself even deeper into you, continuing his powerful thrusts.

As you recovered from your orgasm, you opened your eyes and saw Jungwoo looking back at you with lust filled eyes. He began licking his lips as his gaze shifted from your eyes to your lips.

“Want to go again?” You whispered, knowing that you had more energy than before.

He smirked and nodded his head. “Why not?”

He lifted you from the countertop and carried you into the bedroom. Once he laid you down on the bed, he crawled on top of you.

“You’re looking at me funny. What? Did I do something wrong?” You asked innocently.

“Would your squad mates kill me if I said that I wanted to join you on your adventures?” He asked.

“What makes you think that?” You asked back, wrapping your arms around his neck.

“I really like you, Y/N and I want to keep seeing you. But it’s hard when we’re different missions and all that. That means no contact for weeks or months at a time.”

“So, what do you say? Will you let me tag along with you?” He wrapped his arms around you and pressed his lips against yours.

“I would really love that.” You returned the kiss and closed your eyes. “But I have one condition.”

“Name it.” He grinned.

“That you fuck me in every position you possibly can.”

He laughed. “Let’s crash land on the nearest inhabitable planet. I’m ready to make your dreams come true.”

#nct #nct 127 #nct stories #nct fanfic #nct imagines #nct smut #nct jungwoo #jungwoo smut #kim jungwoo #jungwoo #jungwoo x reader #space exploration #outer space #space theme au #nct and space

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ftmtftm · 9 months

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I'm having a lot of feelings tonight about the ways in which I was very explicitly raised in (radfem-y) feminist spaces and told "you can be whatever you want to be"... until I was a man. Until I saw beauty in masculinity. Until I thought being hairy and sweaty and having a low voice was something wonderful and desirable not just in a partner but in myself. Until I changed my pronouns and became a gender traitor despite nothing else about who I am as a person changing.

There's a weird kind of hurt growing up in a "progressive" home where it feels like your mother is gunning for you to be a lesbian like your butch cousin before you came out as a gender traitor but the second your sister comes out and says she's a dyke there's a problem because having two queer children can't be possible.

There's an awful kind of hurt continuing to pursue activism because I grew up on protest music I don't think my parents ever actually internalized. I think it's an autism thing for myself, really. Because it's something that feels hypocritical to me in a way I feel boils down to the way I conceptualize justice and morality, which I view very autistically. It lead me to wanting to pursue academic studies in sociology, to learn how systems of oppression work, to learn the language used to help people describe their experiences in the world and in turn learn about them. And then? I was shoved out. Because a gender traitor can't understand and if "he" does then she's really just doing this all for attention and she should really just admit she's actually still a young woman. She's just one of the girls and she should accept that. If "he" wants to be a "real man" why does "he" care so much? That's so... predatory. That's so unsafe to be around.

It's just. Sad. And I'm sad. My body didn't go away when I came out. My history didn't go away when I came out. I know that some people experience gender in a very separated way but fuck. I was a girl, and I was a man, and now they live together inside of me and I am both my past and my present. I know how I am most comfortable but my bones hold years of mistreatment based on the ways others forcibly gendered me on the basis of my physical sex. I am not cis passing in any capacity and I hold the ways I am still harmed by the forcible gendering of my body close to my chest. And I don't expect everyone else to feel that way about their own identity, that's just how I feel about my own sense of self. And I know some other people do feel similarly. And I just. Want To Have The Words For It.

I just want to have language that's been denied to me and others like myself. That's why I care about the term transandrophobia. Only those who seek to harm marginalized groups benefit from those groups not being able to speak for themselves by having a lack of language for their experiences.

#transandrophobia #original post #this is really rambly and personal please don't take it the same way as my more serious discourse posts #i'm just feeling very sad and lamenting the ways in which i feel i am a part of the world tonight

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taki118 · 4 months

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Some tips for Ace/Aro characters in fandom

I've been seeing this discourse again and I dunno I kinda wanna scream my opinions into the void as an older asexual who just tired of this.

There's this weird thought that if a character is Ace/Aro its like you can't ship the character or do sexy things with them and thats not really true, its entirely dependent on the character and you just need to offer them some more thought/care than you would an Allo character/relationship.

(Also you people saying you can't ship this cause one character is ace/aro and totally not cause it directly competes with your preferred ship I see you you ain't sneaky, trying to act holier than thou nonsense)

So you got an Ace/Aro cannon character and are wondering if it's ok to ship them, well here's a question has the character expressed a strong desire to NOT be in a relationship? If yes then yeah don't ship them. IF however their opinion has not been revealed or if they just seem passive then go right ahead you aren't going against the character and plenty of Ace/Aro people do want partnerships.

Now you might be thinking "Oh so I can just do what I normally do with my ships right?" Mhhmmmmm maybe there are aspects to Ace/Aro relationships that don't differ from Allo relationships but there are more that do. You need to really look at your character and how they approach things much more carefully than you would an Allo if you don't want to erase their Ace/Aro-ness. Example say the character is rather touch adverse you shouldn't then depict them clinging to another character instead show affection in tinier ways or show that they are doing this despite their discomfort for the other character.

Another thing to avoid is focusing too much on the relationship, if you go too hard on the not having an interest before this person it can come off like they "Fixed" their ace/aro-ness and kinda borderlines a fetishy area. Avoid statements like "I never felt this way until you" and go for something more casual like "It doesn't matter to me but you do"

And here's the part people really care about ughhhhh sex. Yes Ace/Aro people can have sex some even want sex so depicting an Ace/Aro character doing sexy things isn't necessarily erasure again so long as you depict it with CARE. Again if the character in question has directly stated they are sex repulsed for all that is holy do NOT have them have sex unless you put in a LOT of work into (aka not for those new to this) But if the character is more disinterested then you can have them do sexy things so long as it doesn't cause like a seismic shift in how they view sex, don't make it "Wow this is amazing I never knew" and lean more towards "It wasn't so bad with you" Again it all comes down to the character themselves so like pay attention.

Also try to avoid the who innocent bean thing like they aren't interested therefor they know NOTHING about sex, like yes it depends on the character but if you do this too much and too like cutesy it can come off like a virgin fetish or infantilizing.

Finally yes you can depict Ace/Aro characters in sexy ways (this is more for Ace characters but I wanna cover my bases with people) but again it depends on the character some aces like to look and feel sexy they just don't like sex and others don't want to be sexualized at all, for others its a case by case bases, again if it is something the character would do or hasn't said anything its fair game.

There's no way this covers everything really what important is just learning about Ace/Aro people and putting just a little more effort in when handling them. You can still have fun with them, still ship them, being Ace/Aro is not the death sentence some in fandom make it out to be, it can even lead to different and fun dynamics you hadn't considered or explored before.

#ace #aro #ace/aro #asexual #aromantic #fandom #shipping #writing advice

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thegreencanary · 2 years

Text

Let’s play a game…

Based on this request!

Okay so this request gave me ‘Scream’ vibes so hard so it’s basically gonna be that but Billy comes in to fuck up the bad guy. I’m not using Ghost Face specifically but you get the picture.

Summary: Someone is in your house, you don’t feel a safe so you call your safety net.

TW: Fighting, Stalking, Stabbing, Cursing, Crying, mentions of Smut but no actual smut. MINORS DNI SHOO. SHOOOOOOO

A/N: This is my work and I don’t give anyone the permission to post it anywhere claiming to be someone else’s. I worked hard on this, if you enjoy it please interact. Requests are open.

Slowly working through my requests! I have a few to get to still but I’m okay with taking on more! It’s just gonna be a few days until I finish them all.

“They’re hereeeee…”

Why you decided to stay home and watch a horror movie by yourself on a Saturday night instead of going to Tina’s party was beyond you. Billy really wanted you to go but you just had a bad feeling so you decided to stay home. That was the first dumb idea, Poltergeist was the second. The third was telling your parents to spend the weekend in Tahoe instead of coming home that night. So, count them; home alone, scared shitless and no one was coming back. The phone rang and you jumped slightly, mentally smacking yourself for being such a scaredy cat.

“Y/L/N residence.”

“Hey baby.”

“Billy! How’s the party?? Did you sneak off into someone’s room? It sounds quiet.”

He didn’t usually call you during parties if you weren’t there. You trusted him, despite what everyone tried to make you think. The stories of girls hanging on him while you were gone didn’t upset you. You knew Billy, really knew him. You knew the real reason he was in the hospital for so long after the mall burned down. You knew the fights he got in weren’t usually at school, but at home. You knew how deep his blue eyes went when he cried, so yeah; you trusted Billy Hargrove.

“Cops crashed the party. I’m home now, but maybe I should listen to your gut feelings a bit more.”

You smiled softly, he was home safe. That was always a worry if you two were apart and you knew he was going out drinking.

“Ehhh I don’t know. I still feel like something is wrong so maybe I’m just paranoid.”

“You and me both baby. Want me to come over and calm you down?”

You blushed. He wasn’t being innocent and you knew that.

“Billy I can barely walk from yesterday. Plus if you give me anymore hickies people will think I have a rare skin disease.”

You heard his deep snicker on the other line.

“What can I say, people need to know you’re mine. I love marking that perfect skin with my—“

“GOODBYE BILLY!”

You hung up before he could get descriptive. He had a way of talking you into phone sex which would turn into him driving the 10 minute drive to your house in 3 minutes; only to absolutely destroy you when he burst through the door.

His phone call did calm you down though, enough for torture yourself with the rest of the movie. Grabbing some chips and a water you sat and refocused on the movie. You were a lot further into it when the phone rang again, it was late enough that Billy was really the only one who should be calling.

“Billy?”

“Not this time.”

“Oh! I’m so sorry. This is the Y/L/N residence. How can I help?”

“Just wondering why you weren’t at Tina’s tonight?”

That was odd. No one really noticed if people didn’t show up to parties. The voice sounded weird over the phone and something wasn’t sitting right in your mind.

“Just didn’t feel well…who is this?”

“A friend.”

“All of my friends do tend to have names sooooo….”

“Do all of them get to see you in those skimpy blue pajamas?”

Dread. Absolute dread, whoever was calling you could see you. Immediately you mentally checked if you’d locked all the doors, and you did…right?

“Come on, let’s play a fun game. If you can find me, I’ll give you a 10 second head start before I kill you.”

You immediately hung up the phone. This wasn’t funny if someone was pulling a prank. The Upside Down caused enough trauma… luckily Steve had become a close friend and he left his special baseball bat with nails in your house. You grabbed the phone and dialed one number before you went to go find it.

The phone rang…and rang…and rang…

“Y/N it better be you and you better have a good re-“

“Someone is in or around my house and they’re going to try and kill me.”

Billy was quiet for a few moments. That would definitely fall under a good reason. You two had promises to each other that you’d never joke about something like this. Any life or death situation was too familiar to be pranked about.

“Find a place to hide, I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

“Baby no. Just call the police. Please. Honestly I should have first but I’m so scared I just needed to hear your voice. I’ll call them after this. Please don’t do anything Stu—hello? Billy?”

The line went dead. You knew he was going to come now, he was probably freaking out in his room. You just prayed he called the cops first. You mentally hit yourself for not doing that first. Slowly you made your way to the garage, maybe you could just run out. The baseball bat was in there too, if you couldn’t. Gently opening the door you didn’t want to turn the light on so you slowly scuffled around the garage. The bat was close, you remember your dad being extremely confused why Steve left it with you and setting it by the door so it didn’t pop any of the cars tires on accident. You felt the hilt but that’s when someone else turned on the light.

“So you did want to play after all.”

You tried to grip the bat but you were squatted and the freak was standing, they kicked you back and grabbed the bat you were going for.

“Handy little tool for me, but a promise is a promise. You have 10 seconds.”

“Why are you doing this?”

“I told you, I think you’re just my type, bitch. Now you have 5 seconds.”

Fuck. You took off into the house. Running outside seemed dumb. You didn’t know what kind of weapons the killer had and you had to know your own house better than them.

You opened and shut a few doors trying to throw off the killer.

You tried to quietly sprint up the stairs

Under the bed was too obvious

So was the closet

Fuck

—————-

Billy killed his engine a few houses down from yours. The last thing he wanted was for you to think it was safe and run to meet him, only for the sick bastard to kill you. He wore as much black as he could, trying to blend in with the night so he wouldn’t be spotted immediately. Stealth was his only option. He called the police but you both lived far enough away it would still take 15 - 30 minutes that you might not have had.

Billy tried to calm himself on the walk up, you were smart and resourceful, he’d seen you survive the craziest shit. You were gonna be okay when he got there. He approached your house, all the outside lights were off which helped him but also worried him. The sight he was greeted with washed over him with a wave of relief, with an ounce of worry coming back. The killer must have been inside or you were just fucking crazy.

————————————

You clung to the side of your house for dear life. Billy had alway bitched about how he couldn’t climb into your window because there was nowhere to hold onto. Having trouble finding a hiding spot from the psycho you jumped out your window and closed it before he could find you. But now you were putting your weight on a gutter that was probably going to fall at any moment. Dropping from a second story didn’t seem like a great option, but neither did dying.

You almost cried out in relief when you saw a dark figure approaching your house. Normally it would scare the shit out of you because it looked like a burglar but when he removed his black hood, the blonde mullet brought a tear to your eye. He quietly walked over to you and stood under you. He wanted to catch you.

“No! I’ll break us both. Did you call the cops??”

You were whisper shouting at him. He just nodded and motioned for you to come down. Billy was strong, really strong, and he was a lot smarter than he lead on; but you still didn’t want to drop a whole story into his arms.

“No! I’ll just—“

“Gotcha”

The killer pulled you inside and threw you against the wall. The scream died in your throat and You hit your head pretty hard, and it shut you up pretty quickly.

———————-

The psycho grabbed your arm and you screamed as he pulled you back inside. Billy ran to the front door, of course it was locked. He kicked the flower pot that had your spare key and grabbed it. Opening it up, the house was eerily quiet. He’d hoped to had heard you screaming for help but it was just…nothing.

Going to the kitchen he grabbed a knife in one hand and had brass knuckles on the other. Billy slowly and quietly stalked up the stairs, he heard muffled noises coming from your room, and he waited for the right moment.

———————-

“What the hell do you want?”

You groaned from the floor. Running your hand through your hair there was no blood which was good. You probably had a concussion because you felt nauseous but you kept it in.

The killer was wearing a hockey mask which was super original. Now that you had to sit and look you rolled your eyes. You survived demon bats, dogs and demigorgons just to die by a cliché dumbass.

“You need to be put in your place.”

He removed his mask and a different level of fear gripped your. Adam Murray. You’d visited him, and a few more convicted serial killers in Michigan City, Indiana. Your college psych class visited the mental institution and Adam took a special liking to you. You remember calling Billy about it and how uncomfortable it made you, but that was almost a year ago.

“…Mr. Murray… please.”

Adam smirked and swung the bat. You dodged it and thanked God for Steve putting so main nails in it. The bat stuck to the wall and it gave you enough time to move. Touching the door you thought you’d get out but a body tackled you to the floor. You felt a pinch in your arm but there was too much adrenaline for you to focus on it. Adam was on you but in the next second he wasn’t.

————-

Billy threw open the door when he heard a thud. He saw some older guy on you and everything went black. You’d helped him with his anger blackouts a lot. He’d even gotten close with Max because he was just doing better as a person; but this brought out the old Billy. He could see what he was doing, but it was as if he was outside of his body. Kicking the man off you, Billy kept him on the floor by kicking his face again. Dropping to his knees, he discarded the knife and started punching with the brass knuckles. Blood was covering his hands and he laid into the man’s face. Your scream brought him back. You were a lot closer than he thought you would be.

Billy stopped his assault to feel you wrapping him in a tight embrace. He originally thought it was to stop him from killing the man, but when he shifted he saw that the guy had grabbed the knife Billy brought in. He was going to stab Billy but you took the blown. The knife was sticking out of your forearm. It had gone all the way through, and it almost got to Billy too. He gave one more strong ass punch which rendered the man unconscious. You fell down, trying not to move the knife. Past experiences made both you and him aware that you needed to leave the knife in until paramedics arrived.

Gently picking you up, Billy carried you outside to the steps. He sat down with you in his lap and he gently pet your hair.

“Thank you for calling me.”

You chuckled weakly.

“I think my shoulder is broken too, but you saved my fucking life.”

You tried to lean up to kiss him, but graciously he met you 1/2 way.

“I’ll always be here when you call.”

The lights and sirens of the police cars came in to view. The sound got louder as you clung tighter to your boyfriend.

“I….I love you Billy. I know we said we’d wait until all the stuff from the Upside Down was done and there was no drama in our lives. I know this is drama and you probably think I’m high in adrenaline but I-“

Billy cut you off with another kiss. This one was much deeper. His tongue explored your mouth like he had all the time in the world. He finally pulled away when he heard cars pull into your driveway.

“I love you too.”

He stood, with you in his arms, and carried you to the ambulance. Filling in the cops on what happened, a few went in to re-arrest the escaped mental patient. Billy stayed with you the whole way to the hospital, it was his turn to help you recover; and he was going to show you just how much he loved you while doing it.

————————

A/N: The end! Thanks for reading! Again, this is my work and I don’t allow anyone to copy or use this as their own writing. Feel free to submit some requests! Please interact! ❤️🖤❤️

#billy could have been saved #billy hargove imagine #billy hargrove x you #billy x reader #billy x you #billy deserved better #billy hargrove x reader #billy stranger things #stranger things

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thebreakfastgenie · 4 months

Note

for the ships thing: the last 3 different ships you read fic for

I'm honestly not sure what exactly these were so I'm kinda guessing but I think it was punnihawk (@onekisstotakewithme's Close to the Heart), piercentyre (it hasn't actually happened in this fic yet but it's in the tags, Ben by escapismthingy) and Josh/Donna (my wonderful gift fic I haven't had the chance to finish reading yet but I can't wait, Paper Thin by @librarianmouse).

Punnihawk

It was hard to accurately describe my feelings using a bingo card because they're kinda complicated! I don't think punnihawk is a spicy ship but that's okay, I'm not always in the mood for spice. It can get a little spicy, or at least messy though, and that's when I like it the most. I'm basically into punnihawk sometimes and if I like the story enough. But I still really struggle to see any romantic chemistry between Hawkeye and BJ, so I'm mostly interested in the BJ/Peg and Hawkeye/Peg sides and Hawkeye/BJ is kind of just along for the ride! At the end of the day I still prefer BJ and Peg as a couple having a platonic friendship with Hawkeye (although post-war Hawkeye-BJ friendship isn't my bread and butter either, I have written it). I do mostly still hc BJ as straight, because the BJ in the show reads maximally heterosexual to me, but I can make bi BJ work for the sake of a good fic, so the sexuality sort of clashes but not exactly.

Piercentyre

drives me crazy! (affectionate)

This is a weird case for fandom ruined the ship for me and then it got unruined. See, when I first joined the fandom, I encountered one consistent narrative for piercentyre, and I absolutely could not stand that narrative. I still can't. So I thought I just didn't like the ship until much later I met some people who who doing it in a different way and I was like oh, duh. I still think I prefer them as best friends rather than a couple, if only because when it comes to MASH I prefer canon over fanon always (Larry Gelbart and Alan Alda are better writers than anyone here including me). But I've also started to really enjoy them as a couple and just really enjoy funny silly sex situations for them. At the end of the day they're best friends who love each other and whether they're fucking or not is kind of just the icing on the cake.

Josh/Donna

drives me crazy! (affectionate), Where's the spice?! (affectionate). They're just two people who really enjoy each other's company and that's what makes it so good! Fandom didn't ruin it per se, but I do periodically get tired of it from overexposure in fandom, and I disagree with a lot of popular headcanons and fanfic tropes for them. I do also wish the fandom was a tad less Josh/Donna focused. But then I watch 17 People or Holy Night or Guns Not Butter and I remember I'm obsessed with them. The therapy has nothing to do with their relationship they both just need it for other reasons. I also chose "besties" because I think their romantic relationship is based on a strong friendship and they're basically best friends for the first 5 seasons, and it bothers me that both some fics and the last 2 seasons of the show itself sometimes forget that. I don't actually entirely believe Josh and Donna as purely platonic besties which is a problem for me in Sam/Josh universes, haha.

#ty!!!

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starsofmilos · 2 years

Text

Partners (Adrian Chase x reader)

Request: love love LOVE your fics and I was wondering if you could possibly do an adrian chase x fem!reader who just so happens to be a bit child-like and kinda crazy in a way. basically, her and adrian already have an established relationship however some tend to think it's weird that the known vigilante is with someone who's a bit on the wild side and has a tendency to become reckless, also has some child-like quirks (not like immature or anything). the team and her ending up doing a mission and reader has to make her her way into the one of the areas and plant her reckless bombs...while also causing some trouble. while everyone's worried she'll make things worse, adrian is there to keep things in check for as he's the only one who can calm her her down (to a certain degree at least).

Request: also, kinda wanted to preface a few things about the chaotic/childish reader fic: 1, the reader is kinda based off jinx from arcane in some ways. 2, her childish and chaotic behavior I think would come from some form of trauma...and 3! I think, because adrian is kinda the one to comfort reader whenever she gets a bit too wild, I think there should be a little scene where some voices in her head cause her to act to hard and she almost hurts someone on the team but adrian helps her through keeping her calm.

So I love the idea!! I’m all for it, but unfortunately I’ve never seen the show arcane! I’m sorry I saw your other anon saying how she was supposed to based off if it, so I did the best I could and hope you like what I’ve come up with.

Masterlist

Warnings: cursing, mentions of sex, violence, chaotic energy, mentions of troubled past, trauma

Adrian had been lonely. Well he didn’t want to admit that he was, because according to him he had no emotions like normal people. But he was.

Peacemaker had already been in prison for a long time and as much as Adrian didn’t like to admit it. He didn’t have many friends.

Well more like no friends. He was fine with it though. Being Vigilante was time consuming along with juggling his job. He didn’t mind the quiet nights.

Not one bit.

Things changed though the second he found a drug operation he had been after for a while.

He shot his gun left and right humming a small tune as he looked around for any more of the gang members. This was a bit more boring than he thought it would be.

That until he stumbled across their hidden basement.

“Hello!! Anyone else down here waiting to die?” He groaned hearing no commotion.

“I guess this is what I do now inspect creepy dark basements of gang leaders.” He grumbled a bit finding a switch. Adrian looked in confusion seeing a door with multiple locks on it.

He hummed approaching it cautiously “Whatever is in here they obviously wanna hide it really well..”

“How could they afford good locks like this?”

“They’re drug dealers how else would they afford it.” Adrian jumped a bit hearing a voice. The small crack in the door opened up a bit showing your eyes.

“Hello..Oh wow you’re the one they’ve been talking about! They kept laughing saying how there was no way you would find him. I guess don’t underestimate the man in the teal suit!”

You laughed as Adrian stared in shock. “Sorry didn’t mean to scare you.”

Adrian chuckled a bit, “Pshh..You didn’t scare me!”

“Really?” You sarcastically called out as he nodded.

“You jumped.”

“Did not.”

“Did too!”

“Fine! Whatever do you know where they went?” You hummed.

“I’ll tell you if you let me out.” Adrian laughed again as you pouted.

“Uh yeah not happening for all I know you’re a criminal like them as a matter of fact.” Adrian cocked his gun pointing it towards the small hole.

Your eyes widened as you cried out, “Wait! Wait! I’m not a criminal! I promise! They have a getaway through the sewers! They told me they would come back for me later, but I was hoping to escape by then okay!”

He nodded putting his gun away turning to take off. “Alright thanks for the info help will come for you eventually.”

“Wait you’re gonna leave me here!?”

“The police will deal with you. You’re not my problem.” You hit the door angrily trying to think of a way for him to come back.

Adrian hummed as he began to walk back up the stairs. “I can help you! If you let me! I know where they’re going! I can show you the sewer tunnel myself!!”

“I’ll find it just fine-”

“No you won’t! It’s hidden really well! They have it hidden really well and there’s a code! I know a way to go around the code!”

“Do you know the password?”

“Well no-”

“Then you have no use.”

“I can get it down! I swear to you! Just please! Let me out?” You pouted hoping he would listen. Adrian sighed.

Who knows how long you’ve been locked here?..

“The second you act out-”

“You can shoot me! Scouts honor!” He smiled a bit under his mask pulling out his lock picking set.

“Alright sit tight.” You jumped in excitement hearing the locks fall off. Adrian tensed up hearing you squeal the second the door opened.

You ran out excitedly enveloping him in a tight hug. “Thank you thank you!!”

“Welcome?..” He was confused as you gave him a huge grin jumping up and down in excitement.

“Oh right! Come on!” You grabbed his hand leading him to the far corner of the basement. Adrian’s eyes widened as you threw a huge cover down showing him a huge door.

“See passcode!” Adrian nodded humming.

“And how do you plan on getting the door off?” He asked you a bit amused. You smirked softly grabbing some cleaning supplies.

“I need one of your bullets.”

“What?”

“Just one! Promise!” He sighed but handed you one willingly. You hummed a small tune grabbing some duck tape ripping a piece with your mouth.

“I just realized I never got your name.”

“Oh my name?..”

“Yeah your name. You do have one right?”

“Oh yeah of course I do..No one has asked for my name in a long time..My name is Y/N! Nice to meet you teal suit guy!”

“You can call me Vigilante.”

“Okay Vig.”

“No it’s vigilante.”

“You say tomato I say to mah to.

He laughed a bit annoyed as you stood up attaching something to the door.

“What is that?”

You grabbed his hand dragging him across the room using the door from where you were locked as a cover.

“It’s a bomb.”

“WHAT?!”

An explosion rung out destroying the door completely. Adrian laughed in shock as you excitedly smiled.

“Is this why they kept you?”

“No I’m a chemist. I’ve been studying chemistry since I was six. I know what to mix to make the certain drugs they wanna sell.”

Adrian was a bit in shock from how nonchalantly you admitted that to him. Well he was also conerned.

“Did they make you?” You nodded with a small smile.

“Yeah, but it’s alright now. You let me out!” He smiled a bit under his mask as you grabbed some more cleaning supplies to set up gases. His eyes widened in confusion seeing you grab an empty bag putting it all away.

“Alright let’s go!” You moved forward yelping when Adrian pulled you back by your forearm.

“Where do you think you’re going? I just asked you to show me the tunnel.”

“Well you wanted to stop them right?”

“Yeah, but you can go now. Go find the police to help you. You’re free now dude.”

“I don’t want too though. Why go to some boring place like the police station when I can stick around with the cool teal suit armor guy who’s a hero and stop some drug dealers?”

“Wait you think I’m a hero?..I literally threatened to kill you.”

“But you didn’t and I’ve heard of you. You kill bad guys. Isn’t that what a hero does? Stop the bad guys. Besides the voices say I can trust you.”

“Well when you put it like that..fine but stick by me. I don’t want you slowing me down or getting hurt and keep your voices in check.”

“Please if anything you’ll be slowing me down.” You jabbed his rib laughing as he swatted your hand.

That was roughly two years ago. Adrian assumed that the two of you would part ways after, but you didn’t. You didn’t quite let him.

You ended up getting injured, but refused going to the hospital so Adrian allowed you to stay with him.

Once you left after being fully healed, Adrian had already kinda grew attached to you beginning to reach out to you to hang out and eventually you ended living with him.

You were different to say the least. Adrian had gotten attached to you way quicker than he wanted too, but that was okay. You got attached to him in the same amount of time probably even less.

It was obvious before him you didn’t really have anyone who genuinely cared about your well being. It surprised him considering how incredibly smart you were.

He would assume you had a family or something, but you didn’t really like to talk about your past and Adrian wasn’t one to push.

So he let you stay with him and one thing led to another.

Now you were currently sat on the couch whisking a bowl humming a small tune while waiting for Adrian to get home.

“Hey.”

“HEY!” You cheered seeing him trudge his way in. “Rough day?”

Adrian nodded sitting next to you, “Whatcha makin?”

You handed him a gas mask waiting for him to put it on to continue. Adrian was used to this by now so he put it on no questions ask.

“Just a new liquid to melt for gas for you or me to use eventually.”

“Don’t you have like a whole closet full of this already and which one are you making this time.”

“I do and each one is different! This one right here is phosgene. It was a chemical used in World War I.”

“Oh what’s is used for?”

“Well nowadays it’s a chemical used to make plastics and pesticides, but if you have it a room temperature of 70 then it can be a toxic gas. Kinda like a poison.”

Adrian nodded amazed by how effortlessly you knew all of this. “Do you know how to make mustard gas?”

“You know I’m kinda offended you even asked. I have three shelves worth put away.”

You smiled seeing the crinkles in the corner of his eyes showing you he was smiling.He looked cute in his gas mask.

“Being cute isn’t gonna change the fact that you offended me.” You made a small noise turning away while pouring the liquid in a cold storage can to put away.

“If me being cute isn’t enough to apologize then you being hot isn’t enough for me to forgive you.”

“Forgive me for what?”

“We talked about this.” He gave you a small look while pointing down the hallway.

“Oh right...I promise I’ll start making the stuff in the spare room..I just wanted to wait for you to come home on the couch..” You pouted under your mask as Adrian stood up opening the window to air out the room.

“You’re lucky you’re cute and that’s not what I was talking about. We agreed you’d start wearing a face mask!” He slapped your ass as you walked to put away the chemicals. You hissed playfully at him.

“I’m use to all the smells though! I’m immune doesn’t affect me!”

“Doesn’t matter! Man before you I thought I was reckless.” You pouted as Adrian removed his mask kissing you once you came back from putting the stuff away.

“So I’m gonna go out in a bit.”

“Isn’t a bit early for patrol?”

“Well yeah, but there’s a mission I’m gonna go with the team soon. I’ll probably be back tomorrow morning. You gonna be okay by yourself for a bit?”

“Yeah why wouldn’t I be?” Adrian nodded pulling you into a side hug. You giggled as he jabbed your ribs.

“I trust you. I just don’t want..”

“I’ll be fine. I’m always fine. You know that?” Adrian sighed giving you a big kiss.

“Do you guys need any help on this mission?”

“Nah we got it. The day we do though. I’ll come get you.” You smiled excitedly.

“I hope that day is soon! I’ve been getting an itch to go out..” You began to ramble for a bit not noticing how Adrian was giving you an lovestruck look.

“Anyways it’ll help me use all those canisters I’ve been saving, but since you’re gonna do the mission. I will be taking patrol tonight.”

Adrian cleared his throat, “I thought we agreed-”

“I know, but someone has to watch Evergreen I’ll leave all my things here and only take your knives!”

“Deal, but if anything-”

“I call you if anything happens.” You grinned already knowing what he would say. Adrian tended to worry over you and he had every right too.

You were one of the most dangerous people he knew and also one the most unstable, but god damn it he was in love with you.

Adrian and you shared another kiss before he took off. You stopped him before he closed the door putting a small sticker on his arm for good luck before he left.

You hummed a small tune grabbing your leather vest and goggles before heading out for your patrol.

Adrian and the team had been going over the plan once more before hearing Emilia curse. She walked into the room with an angry look on her face.

“We gotta get a new plan. Things changed.”

“What happened?” Chris asked her worriedly.

“There’s more than we thought and I don’t know how, but they know we’re coming in so they tightened security.”

“Well what can we do then?”

Emilia shrugged at John, “Unless we have someone who can sneak in and help us take out multiple people at a time then no. This is way too many people even for us.”

Adrian hummed before raising his hand, “I know someone who can help?”

“Be serious here. There’s no one we know who’d be able to sneak through groups of people.”

Emilia nodded, “Yeah we don’t need jokes right now-”

“But I’m not joking. I really do know someone who can help.”

“Who then?” Chris laughed a bit.

“My girlfriend. She’s been wanting me to invite her on a mission anyways. She’s different to say the least a bit weird-”

“Wait you think she’s weird?” Adebayo asked a bit shocked.

“Well yeah she’s not normal like me, but she’s really great and cool.”

“Wait let’s just go back in general. You have a girlfriend?” Adrian nodded confused by John’s statement.

“Yeah why is that hard to believe?”

“It’s just cause it’s you.”

“And you’re saying she’s weirder than you?!”

“Yeah, but in a good way.”

“What’s a good way?”

“She’s capable of doing what we need.”

You had just gotten home from patrol making a grilled cheese when Adrian opened the door coming through with the team behind him.

Emilia gagged a bit covering her mouth. “What’s that smell?!”

Adrian grinned seeing you flipping your sandwich. “Oh that smell is mercaptan. It’s used in gas that’s common in households. Suppose to warn people that there’s a possible leak in the house. Oh! But don’t worry there’s not one here!”

The team looked at you in shock as you tossed gas masks to all of them. “I swear I did it in the other room. The smell is just really strong.”

Adrian sighed as you pouted. “So this is your girlfriend?”

Chris asked him a bit puzzled. You seemed different than Adrian.

“You guys want some grilled cheese? I can cut this in like eight pieces? Oh wait the gas masks will make it hard to eat it huh? Welp more from me-NO!”

You screamed out as it fell to the floor once you picked it up. It slipped out of your hand.

Adrian laughed as you whined growing teary eyed.

Really different than Adrian.

“So Chase you’re saying she’ll help us?” You perked up hearing Emilia.

“Wait help?! You guys need help!!” You jumped excitedly already reaching for your bag. Adrian stopped you.

“We gotta talk about it first hun.”

“Aww...”

Emilia sighed as you aired out the house helping them sit to talk it out. She explained to you their problem all of them watching you still slightly confused that someone like you was with Adrian.

You twiddled with a lighter playing with it as you listened before nodding.

“I can get in. If anything I think I can clear it out for you guys.” Chris scoffed a bit.

“Sorry but we just need help to get in-”

“I know. I can make bombs. That’s what all those chemicals are for. I can any type of bomb you need. You need one that expels gas? I got you. Or just an average one, I can do that too.”

Adrian smiled as you moved sitting on his lap getting comfortable. “And it’ll be good. I promise I won’t go overboard! Adrian helps me not too!”

Adebayo smiled nervously, “We didn’t say anything about that...”

“Oh..that was me then haha! But I can help! Please!”

Emilia sighed pondering before agreeing. What more can they lose?

“Okay, but Chase you’re keeping an eye on her the last thing I want is for her to go overboard like she was warning us about.”

“Aye Aye Captain.” You saluted Harcourt grinning excitedly. They all left as John glanced at you one more time. You seemed familiar to him.

Adrian couldn’t help but grin as you cheered once they left. “This is gonna be so awesome!!”

You had spent the next night prepping everything you deemed necessary for the mission. Adrian helping of course mostly to make sure you didn’t go overboard.

“So your girlfriend mentioned how you can make sure she doesn’t go overboard. What did she mean by that?” John asked Adrian carefully as he and Chris filled up the van.

“Oh Y/N has a small tendency to kinda I don’t wanna say lose control, but she just kinda becomes not herself in a way.”

“Huh. I looked her up she seemed familiar.”

“Oh and what did you find?” Adrian asked him curious now. He didn’t know you had a record of any sorts. Quite honestly though considering how unhinged you were before you met him, it didn’t surprise him.

“She’s literally considered one of the most dangerous people in the world. She’s broken so many laws like it’s not even funny.”

“Well I knew about that, but everything she did on those records she never wanted to do. She’s was always forced. It’s kinda why I originally took her in wanted to make sure she stood out of trouble the next thing I know a couple months in I kissed her.”

Chris snorted a bit surprised, “Wow of course you’d get the crazy girlfriend Vig.”

“I wouldn’t say she’s crazy!” Adrian laughed as you walked out pulling your goggles down.

“I’m ready!” Adrian grinned as you approached him excitedly.

“Alright let’s head out.” Everyone piled in the van as you hummed along to the music leaning on Adrian.

“So let’s go over the plan one more time. Y/N makes the way in for us while also being our distraction. Vigilante will pull her out when we have what we need.”

You nodded making sure you had the right items in your satchel.

“Oh here I brought gas masks so you guys don’t breathe in the smoke of fumes.”

“Thanks...” Adebayo nervously slipped hers on.

“Don’t let us down.” Emilia nervously grabbed it from you. You nodded.

“I promise I won’t.”

You stood up placing your headphones on playing some tunes stretching. Chris stopped you still a bit confused.

“Wait how will we know when to go in.”

“Adrian knows the signal! Alright you guys be safe.”

“Be careful Y/N at the end of the day you are a civilian so your life matter more at any moment it becomes too much you let us know.” Emilia reminded you still wary.

“That’s very sweet but trust me I can handle myself.”

You stepped out yelping as you fell before getting up shooting them a thumbs up slipping your goggles on running inside of the building.

“She sure is something else.” Adebayo chuckled a bit as you scoped the building looking for an opening.

“So Vigilante what’s the signal?” John asked him curious on how they would know.

Adrian was about to respond before an explosion cut them off.

“That’s the signal. We have a good ten minute window to get what we need.” Emilia grabbed the van steadying herself as another explosion set off shaking the van.

“Make that fifteen!” He yelled out jumping out with Chris. The two of them ran ahead with Harcourt leading them. Adebayo followed close behind as John closed the van waiting for your signal that you were done.

You were running laughing as the men chased you around the facility. It had been a while since you got to fully let loose.

Seeing a pole up ahead, you grabbed it using it as leverage to heave yourself up swinging to knock one of them chasing you down sticking one of your smoke bombs on his chest.

He panicked trying to get it off before seeing it was quite literally stuck on him. His comrades struggled to pull it off running thinking it would explode on him.

You smiled taunting them, “Aww boo hoo aliens can’t figure out how to detach a simple bomb!”

They hissed at you before looking in shock as smoke spread throughout the room. They looked around searching for you as you stealthily snuck around taking one out at a time.

Wrapping your arms around of their necks, you moved to snap it stopping when you felt a helmet.

It was Adrian.

“Sorry hun.” He nodded a bit in relief you recognized him before he’d have to apprehend you.

“You’re doing great keep up the good work.” He praised you softly using the smoke with the rest of the team to sneak by. You grinned at his praise.

“But calm it down a bit we still need the building up so we could get out.”

“Okay.” You kissed his helmet sneaking away. Using the smoke you moved away from them going through your bag to see what to use next.

The butterflies coughed making their way out of the smoke groaning when they saw you. “You pathetic human! You’re gonna regret this!”

“Am I? I don’t know about that. Bugs never really scared me.” One of them grunted out beginning to chase you.

The team had used the smoke continuing their way through. “Man this place is practically empty..” Chris muttered out once they made it to the floor above.

Emilia nodded in agreement. “They made it an all hands on deck just to catch her so we should be good to quickly move but everyone keep your guard up in case.”

They coughed as you dropped a toxic gas bomb. “Stupid human poison doesn’t effect us like you!!”

You grinned as they smirked thinking they had the upper hand. “You wanna know something really interesting!”

They looked around trying to find you as you played with your lighter.

“What I just threw wasn’t a poison. it’s a gas that us humans use in certain things! Called ammonia. You know what that is?”

“Stupid girl just come out here!!”

“I mean should’ve guessed you idiots wouldn’t know. I mean I thought you would considering that you’re supposed to be a smarter being than us humans as you say. Ammonia is a colorless gas. It’s compounds consists of nitrogen and hydrogen with the formula NH₃. What you’re smelling is a strong pungent smell.”

“There she is above us.”

“When we get you you’re gonna wish you were dead!”

“If you survive I guess, oh right I forgot to mention the most important thing about ammonia! It’s highly flammable!” You grinned showing them the lit match in your hand as you dropped it down below them.

Adrian grabbed Emilia stopping her from falling as the building shook.

“Chase your girlfriend might be going overboard!” Adebayo yelled out grabbing the wall. He nodded.

“I can see that! I’m gonna start heading to extract her!” Emilia nodded.

“Yeah! We already have what we need! We’ll meet you at the van!” Adrian nodded running to go look for you.

You smiled as they burned putting each other out. There was only a good thirty of them left.

“We have to fall back!” One of them yelled out.

“No! Not until we get this stupid girl! She has to have run out of these stupid bombs!” You hummed picking up a nearby fire extinguisher putting out the fire.

“Oof man ammonia smells like shit.” They looked in shock. You didn’t seem scared at all of them.

“We need to find out who sent her! Grab her!” You grabbed the extinguisher smacking the one who came running to you in the head hard. He fell to the floor as you lifted it above your head crushing his skull in.

You panted grimacing at the blood on your face. “Man I haven’t felt so alive in so long..You guys are fun!”

You dropped the extinguisher running ahead letting them chase you. They were pissed.

You ran to the fourth floor looking behind yourself not noticing a door ahead opening up.

Adrian appeared grabbing you hiding you in a nearby room with him as they ran past it not knowing.

“Oh hey!” You whispered smiling at him. Adrian smiled back under his mask. “Someone went a bit overboard.”

You pouted a bit, “Sorry..it’s been a while. If it makes you feel better the voices are quiet.”

“That does we gotta get out of here now though.” You nodded looking for an exit walking to a nearby window with Adrian.

“I think we can climb out.” He nodded helping you push it open.

“Okay you go first.” Adrian shook his head.

“No you.” You sighed climbing out grabbing on to the wall beginning your descent down. Adrian jumped hearing the door being kicked in.

“We gotta go now!” He moved out the window right as they made it through.

Adrian and you tried to hurriedly climb down but stopped as one of them shot a pistol grazing Adrian’s shoulder.

He groaned losing balance and letting go.

“VIGILANTE!” You yelled out catching him as he fell down. You glared up feeling a spark you hadn’t felt in a long time as Adrian groaned. You were managing to hold you both up with one hand.

It was like a switch flipped inside of you. You hadn’t felt this type of anger in so long. The last time you felt like this was when you had barely turned thirteen.

Adrian usually managed to calm you before you got like this, but right now you couldn’t even hear him. It was like static playing in your head.

“You gotta let me go!” He yelled out. You shook your head.

“No. I’m gonna swing you to that open window down there and you’re gonna get out of here.”

“What about you?”

“I have some unsettled business.” His eyes widened hearing you.

“No! No! Y/N I know that tone of voice! It’s okay I’m not even that hurt.” You ignored him swinging him to the window climbing back up to the butterflies.

“No! Y/N!!” Adrian yelled out for you worriedly as you made it right as they shot again. You moved in time before it could hit you.

Pulling out a simple grenade you pulled the ring throwing it in the center of the room. They panicked as you used the opportunity to run out of the room.

Emilia and the team watched in shock as the room exploded. “What the hell is going on up there..”

John asked as Chris stood with a shocked but also impressed look.

“We have to go back in.” Emilia called out trying to contact you or Adrian.

“Don’t come back in!!” Adrian yelled out trying to warn them. His ear piece broke. He could hear them but they couldn’t hear him. “Shit” he cursed

He made it to you watching in awe as you grabbed a bomb stuffing it into one of the butterflies mouth as she grabbed you.

You stole her gun pushing her back to the group not even flinching when she exploded guts landing on your face.

Adrian was in awe but also worried seeing you act so reckless but also calculated. You were moving with grace as you shot the sprinklers setting them off.

They hissed at you trying to surround you. You pulled out an acid bomb throwing it on the water. The acid caused the water to boil splashing them viciously.

You waved your hand taunting them into following you. Adrian called out for you as you ran ahead dropping down to the third floor as they were on your tail.

“Y/N!!!” He caught you once you made it to the first floor trying to calm you.

“You’re going too far! Calm down!” You struggled in his hold as he carried you to the door. The butterflies catching up.

Adrian groaned as you slipped out face and body wet from the water. He pulled his gun shooting at them trying to keep them away.

“We gotta get out of here!” You shook your head.

“Not until I have their heads for hurting you.” Adrian watched in shock as you pulled out more bombs from your bag.

The team made it through as you pulled threw more acid bombs. “Get out of here!”

“Not without you both Vigilante!”

“No you don’t understand she’s not herself right now she can hurt you! Get out of here!!” Chris looked in shock seeing only about twenty of the butterflies left.

Adrian yelled at them trying to grab you once more. You shook him gasping as he threw you to the floor harshly.

“You’re being reckless and are gonna get yourself killed.” You froze as he took off his mask staring down at you.

“Adrian...”

“Yeah it’s me. Calm down.” You flinched at his tone feeling tears well up in your eyes seeing the damage done around the room.

“I-..I’m sorry..” He nodded helping you up.

“I know we can talk more later. For now let’s go!” You nodded letting him guide you out. Chris covered you both before running to the van.

“Drive!!” Emilia shouted at John. They were all panting as you stood quiet disappointed for losing control like that and for almost getting yourself and everyone injured.

Adrian grabbed your hand not wanting you to spiral. “You’re okay..”

“I gotta admit Y/N when you came I was a bit hesitant worrying you were gonna make things worse.” Emilia spoke up. You flinched waiting for her to continue.

“You may have almost gotten us killed, but I can respect that you went on a rampage cause they injured Adrian. We’re all a team so one of us is hurt that means we all are hurt, but next time try not to go overboard.”

You nodded before perking up, “Next time?” She nodded.

Chris scoffed turning to you, “Uh duh of course next time. That was all insanely cool. I can see why Vig likes you. You’re awesome. I totally wanna know how you made all of those.”

“It’s basic chemistry.”

“Hold up chemistry?”

“I’m a chemist. Graduated at the age of eighteen and got my degree.”

“Holy shit. Dude that’s cool.” Adrian grinned seeing the team getting along with you.

John sighed in relief playing soft music yelling back, “Welcome to the team.”

Emilia nodded, “But we cannot have Chase apart from you unless we genuinely need something destroyed. Honestly I’m surprised that building is still standing.”

Adebayo laughed nodding in agreement. “I’m with you there.”

Adrian smiled as you leaned into him still coming down from the adrenaline rush. “Sorry Adrian..”

He shook his head at your whisper, “You’re good honestly was kinda hot, but also really worried.”

You laughed, “You gave me like a panic boner.”

Adrian kissed your forehead at your laugh. “I know why you got upset too. You’re good.”

“Thanks..”

Truth was you couldn’t stand seeing anyone you cared for getting hurt. On your thirteenth birthday you lost your dad to drug dealers who wanted you to join knowing you were a chemist.

He died protecting you, but because of him you got to finish school and lead a good life. Of course that good life didn’t last long because later on you were kidnapped.

Thing is the day your was shot in front of you it caused you to go on a rampage. Adrian was the only one who knew this story.

It’s why you were chaotic and as much as you hated to admit it a bit childish at times.A part of you disappeared. The day your dad died you quite literally lost your mind.

Adrian didn’t mind though. He was just as crazy as you and he had no problem becoming the person you needed to make sure you were in check.

He chuckled as you bit his arm feeling happy. Chris grimaced turning away from you both.

“They’re perfect for each other.”

You both really were.

#adrian chase #fanfiction #adrian chase x reader #vigilante fanfiction #adrian chase x you #vigilante x reader #fanfic #vigilante peacemaker #peacemaker #adrian chase peacemaker

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angelaiswriting · 8 months

Text

Escape | Sergei (Daredevil)

[credits for the base video]

✏️ Pairing: Sergei x fem!reader

✏️ Summary: in the aftermath of the Hell's Kitchen bombings, you find yourself on the run to safety with Sergei and Vladimir.

✏️ A/N: I haven't written a word since last December. I also did not rewatch Daredevil, I just wanted to get out of my slump, so I hope the vague (lol why tf do I even worry) details about what happened to Vlad and the Russians aren't that far off. This is just some self-indulgent porn with plot while I try to decide whether this is my last fic on here or not. If this side of the fandom still exists... enjoy! 💌

✏️ Warnings: pre-established relationship, Vlad and Sergei being bffs, fluff (imo), kind of an angsty (?) ending for Vlad but he's alive and physically fine! 18+ ONLY (mentions of violence, death, blood, injuries, feeling stalked/observed/tailed; oral sex (f and m receiving), handjob?, p in v sex, coming inside, brief cockwarming, mentions of people hearing you have sex and of voyeurism)

✏️ Word-count: 16,982

ESCAPE

It’s like an out-of-body experience, and you feel like you are the only fixed point in this whirlwind of details.

The smell of smoke and blood that sticks to your lover like some ugly sticker.

The rain drizzling outside.

Hushed Russian in and out of the bedroom, the utility-closet-turned-into-vault room, the living room.

The stench of your own fear.

He’s shoving random essentials into a duffel bag, Sergei. Underwear from your side of the drawer. Your toothbrush and toothpaste from the bathroom, while their glass holder shatters on the floor. Your laptop. Your gun―the one he taught you how to shoot but that you never really had to use before. Money from the safe. Your documents―the real and the counterfeit ones.

Yours yours yours.

It takes you forever to realize everything he’s shoving into that bag belongs to you. That’s when the panic kicks in, and suddenly you’re back inside your body, standing half-dressed in the middle of the living room, barely registering anything Sergei is saying.

The apartment stops spinning when he shakes you by the shoulders and grabs a hold of your face.

He’s bleeding from his left eyebrow, and you can see where he tried to clean himself without success. There’s a spot on his right cheek where the skin is simply no more.

“Listen to me!” He’s not really screaming, but it still feels like he is, and you flinch. The raw desperation in his voice, in the tremor of his hands almost makes you gag. “Milaya, please.”

“What the hell happened to you?” you manage to ask through the thick stupor paralyzing your mind.

Your heart is so loud in your chest, so unbelievably heavy, it’s so hard to hear what he’s saying; to give meaning to his words, his actions.

Why’s he kneeling on the floor, helping you put on your pants like you were a child?

Why’s he so dirty? Blood on his skin and clothes alike. You have the nagging feeling that it’s all his, this time―

“You need to leave.”

―that tonight’s not one of his usual ones. It doesn’t feel like he’s just come back from a fight one bit. For a moment you wonder if this had been caused by some misunderstanding between him and Vladimir, after―

“Take the car and go as far as you can.”

―after Anatoly died―got killed―his murder still feels so surreal, an open, gaping wound.

“You have to leave the country―”

Why is it you you you? Why’s he only talking about you?

What the fuck is going on?

It’s weird, to be stuck in a body much slower than your mind. Your grasp on reality becomes looser, until―

He’s not coming with you.

It’s like holding on to curtains, too frail to withstand the full body weight of a person.

“I’m not leaving you.”

The mere thought of doing so has you nauseous. Your stomach twists and turns, and you feel the exact moment you start breaking out in cold sweat.

This isn’t how an eventual escape plan was ever supposed to go. You were supposed to leave together, to remain together through thick and thin. Swim or drown, whatever that would be, but do it together.

“Take this.” He’s not listening to you. Instead, he shoves that duffel bag in your hands as he kneels down again, already grabbing you by the ankle to slide your right foot into your shoe.

The sight of him on his knees in front of you, dressing you, getting you ready to get out of here, chills you to the bone. There’s this freezing, sticky fear spreading everywhere inside you―bones, flesh, soul. Like you’re never going to see him ever again if you let him go now. Like it’s always going to be you―singular―if you walk out of the door without him by your side.

“Find a way out of the country.”

You think you’re not strong enough to fight off this nausea, this dread.

He’s still not listening. You barely are, too, in his defense.

“I’m not going into hiding without you!”

You’re immobile as he rushes around. He fetches weapons, ammo cartridges, the receiver unit you’ve been using to check their GPS beacons after Anatoly got killed.

“There’s no time for this!” The desperation in his voice thickens, but it’s the look in his eyes that freezes you for a moment longer. There’s a light in them you have never seen before. If you were already suspicious about the situation before, you are even more now. This man is a thousand light years from the Sergei you know.

He’s shoving you backward before you can fully recover from your stupor, but then you’re fighting back against his hands for the first time in your life.

“No!” And you’re so loud, and trembling so hard, that for a heartbeat he stumbles. There’s actual terror in his eyes when you sandwich his cheeks between your hands. “Don’t send me away,” you beg. There’s no time for any of this―you might know nothing about the situation you’re in right now, but you know the urgency behind Sergei’s words and actions must have a reason. “Come with me,” you continue, but he’s quick at cutting you off.

You read it in his eyes, in the way his expression hardens―he’s going to hurt you so that he can successfully drive you away unless you manage to stop him first.

“I don’t have time for your stubbornness!” He pushes past you and you feel yourself move the way you’d watch someone else do it. Your hand is wrapped around his elbow before he can make his way out of the door.

“Whatever this is, we can face it together,” you plead.

You made each other that promise when you made your relationship official. It’s supposed to be you and he together against the world, and not… whatever card he is trying to pull. And if it’s scary, then the better: you would protect him and he would protect you. If it’s some issue between him and the guy, then they already know that you’re a package deal.

“Everyone else is dead.” He turns around but he still doesn’t look at you. He looks past you, at that empty spot on the cupboard where you’ve always wanted to place a framed picture of the two of you together. “The garage is gone, they bombed us. Vova…” He swallows. It’s like it physically pains him, to voice these things out loud, and you’re sure it does. He’s spent such a long time with them… Hell, even your blood freezes in your veins―it thickens, it makes you sick. “I can’t have you die as well. Fuck, I can’t.”

That’s when his gaze meets yours, and that’s also when you get the final confirmation that he’s deadly serious. Not that you had doubts before―Sergei has never been a hurricane in your life, let alone in your apartment, always so eerily calm instead―it cements the fear in your body, and locks your muscles up.

“So what? You stay behind and die by yourself?” You scoff, doing your best to swallow your fear for his own sake. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

He tries to retort―you see how his lips part, how the look in his eyes darkens. You’ve never seen him this pale, almost gray, and you were there, when he almost bled his way into the grave three years ago.

“There’s no bloody time for this!” He’s stern, running out of time more than you even know. More than you could even guess. There’s still blood trickling down his face―down his eyebrow, where it’s finally starting to coagulate, and down his cheek, where it definitely must hurt like hell.

“We have thirty seconds,” you insist, pulling him into your arms and locking your hold around him.

He hisses. You take that as a sign he must be injured somewhere underneath his clothes.

You think you can feel his heartbeat against your chest more than you do hear your own in your ears with how this is making you.

The gun in his shoulder holster is pressed up against the inside of your arm, freezing cold.

Twenty-five more seconds.

You wonder how much more it’s going to hurt when he finally slows down and his mind has the time to catch up with the situation, with what happened tonight. You can barely even wrap your head around what Sergei said earlier, about how everyone’s gone―

seventeen seconds

―and so close after Anatoly’s death. No one took it well, but especially Vladimir has been another kind of angry, a whole new breed of caged animal.

“Stay by my side,” you whisper against the dirty skin of his uninjured cheek. “I’ll stay by yours.”

“Milaya…” His voice trembles and then cracks, and you know he still has enough energy to fight you on this.

Those thirty seconds ran out five seconds ago.

“We can fight this together.” You hug him tighter for a second, two at most―you’re losing your ability to keep track of time.

A series of beeps comes from the tracking device in the back pocket of Sergei’s jeans, then. He freezes in your arms for another second, almost burned by the unexpected sound. You see it on his face when he pulls back―how he had already lost hope and how it’s back now, all of a sudden, punching him in the stomach and twisting.

Vladimir.

Who else would be so obnoxiously loud and annoying while pressing the emergency button on his GPS beacon?

You’d kiss every inch of his stupid face―if not for your own relief, then for that you see wash over your lover’s features. Something lights up in his eyes, and you can almost feel his new determination to survive when he meets your gaze.

You smile. “Grab your bag, I’ll get the keys.”

You don’t stop driving for the next three days, you and Sergei taking turns behind the wheel while Vladimir moans at every hole in the road from the backseat.

You’re no nurse, but you gave it your best when you stopped at dawn, after leaving New York behind, the first and last time you stopped for more than five minutes.

“I’m so sorry,” you grimace, looking into the rearview mirror when the car bumps yet again on the uneven road.

He swims in and out of consciousness, Vladimir, while Sergei tries to get some sleep in the passenger’s seat. You were supposed to switch one hour ago, but you didn’t have the heart to wake him up. You can drive a bit longer, you know you can.

“It’s alright, Kukolka.” Vladimir’s hushed Russian unsettles you more than his failed attempt at a reassuring smile.

“As soon as we’re out of the country, I’ll find someone to check you out,” but you’re not even sure he’s heard you.

It’s right there in the back of your throat―the bile, the nausea this situation causes you. Out of worry, that is―after seeing Anatoly’s corpse, the way he was killed, you’re not sure the sight of anything else could get you as sick as that did. But Vladimir has lost more blood and it makes you comfortable to calculate, and you’re not sure how much longer he can hold on before absolutely having to get actual medical help.

Sergei stirs in his seat then, and this time he’s the one groaning. You worry about him, too, of course. You’ve done your best to patch him up, to clean his wounds, but you worry there might be more inside his body, where you can’t physically see.

You hand him your bottle of water when he moves―purposefully, this time―and you realize he’s awake.

“Why didn’t you wake me up?” He’s looking at you, you see it from the corner of your eye, and then he turns in his seat to check on Vladimir.

You don’t answer him. “I’m stopping at the next gas station for food,” you announce instead. Sergei packed this car with meds months ago, but food was never a priority. You thought you’d have a long life in Hell’s Kitchen, after all. “We’ll be at the meeting point by tomorrow night.”

Next to you, he hums. You see his arm move from your peripheral vision before you feel the wrapped-up palm of his hand on the left side of your neck. The movement of his thumb as he caresses your skin soothes you, and suddenly you’re not as tense anymore. You didn’t even know how much you needed the reassurance of his physical touch until you finally had it.

“That’s not what I asked.” His lips are so close to your ear that the unexpected caress of his tired voice makes you shiver in your seat. Then, he’s pulling your sun visor down. “How long has it been since you should’ve woken me up?” he asks again.

He’s sitting back in his seat now, but his hand is still on the side of your neck. It almost makes you cry, how absolutely normal and domestic this feels, if you don’t focus on how wounded he is or on the man on the backseat, fighting to stay on this side of consciousness.

Then, it hits you. You and Sergei have never gone on a car trip before, despite it being on your wish list of things to do as a couple.

“Not that long,” you lie, but it takes you a second too long, and he reads you way better than he’s ever read his best friend in the back of the car. Still, he doesn’t outright call you out on it. Instead, he says, “Pull over.” The tone of his voice doesn’t leave room for discussions, but you’re nothing if not stubborn.

“You’ll take over after I stop.”

“Yes, and I’m saying you’re stopping the car now.”

You don’t reply this time, nor do you slow down. You simply turn your head for a moment, the road ahead of you empty for miles, and fix him with a glance.

“Stop bothering her, Yurchenko,” comes a voice from the back.

You quickly glance up at the rearview mirror and find Vladimir trying to sit up straight, still as pale as he was this morning, but not as much as he had been when you dragged him out of the tunnels of the New York City sewage system.

“God, you’re annoying.”

“Jesus Christ, not again,” Sergei mutters under his breath. You almost physically feel him roll his eyes, and for a moment, his fingertips press a little harder into the side of your neck. “Fuck, you’re annoying even with a foot in your grave.”

“Yeah? And you drive over all the bad parts of the road,” rebukes Vladimir. “Do you do that on purpose? At least she is nice, and she apologizes.”

That last addition earns you an unamused look from Sergei. You catch glimpses of it the few times in a row you quickly glance in his direction.

You shrug. “What? He’s in pain.”

“I am, too. Never heard you do the same to me.”

Vladimir opens his mouth before you can reply yourself. “That’s because you’re always asleep when you’re not driving.”

A chuckle escapes your lips. It all feels normal, for a moment. This is just your usual Friday night out, sitting in a booth, sandwiched between Sergei and Vladimir to act as a shield to their (almost) constant bickering. Anatoly would joke about you being the third wheel in their relationship, back when you and Sergei had first started dating, five years ago. They always bicker so childishly, but then they’d also go into the deepest pit of hell for each other.

You wonder if this is their way to cope with what happened, with what brought you to drive away towards an abandoned hangar to leave the country.

“Maybe you should drive then!”

Vladimir is already trying to sit up right between both of your seats when you slap Sergei’s thigh.

“Just so he can drive us into a ditch?” You scoff. “Over my dead body. Now be quiet, the both of you, until we get to that gas station or I’ll drop you both off here in buttfuck nowhere.”

They both know you wouldn’t actually follow through with your threat, but they still have enough decency to do as you say.

The next two hours are spent in peace, or as peaceful as that silence can feel. You’re not even sure your idea of turning on the radio was a good one, because it makes the otherwise lack of conversation incredibly surreal. You barely have the guts to glance to your right, even when Sergei places his left hand on your thigh. You dare not ask what he’s thinking about, or where his mind is compared to his body, not even when a quick glance in the rearview mirror confirms that Vladimir has fallen asleep once again.

You pull up in the eerily empty parking lot of a gas station less than two hours later, not long after dusk.

“I’ll take care of the food,” you say, fetching some of the cash Sergei hid in the armrest between the front seats. “You drag Vlad to the restroom.”

“Grab chips?” It’s so weirdly normal, again, the way he asks it, the way he looks at you when you turn toward him. If it weren’t for the band-aids and faint bruises on his face, you would even fall for this illusion of normalcy.

You nod with a smile on your face. And before you can push the door open, you feel him lean over to your side and then he’s kissing you. Every thought, every worry in your brain gets obliterated in less than a heartbeat. His hands on each side of your neck pull you closer into him―and to a time and place that don’t belong to the here-and-now.

He’s pulling away before you can even fully recover from the unexpected kiss. There’s a smirk on his face that is just so absolutely Sergei, in a way, that you chuckle.

“Be careful.” His words are a warning, but there’s a look in his eyes and a tone to his voice that have you under the impression that he’s pleading you.

Sergei rarely ever begs.

You nod, and then you lean forward to peck his lips. “You, too.”

“Feels a bit like I’m third-wheeling you two lovebirds.”

The car is back to being silent when both you and Sergei turn to look at your friend. That devil sure is hard to die, you gotta give him that.

“Let me know if you need help burying his corpse when I’m back,” you throw in while looking at your man before getting out of the car.

The night air is chilly, but the light of the full moon in a black sky full of twinkling stars doesn’t make it feel as scary as your first night in hiding felt.

Even the small convenience store is quiet when you step inside―unsurprisingly so. That does feel a little like you’re in a movie, with some robber just waiting to walk in, gun in hand. The weight of your own weapon against your ribcage is comforting enough, however, and after pulling your scarf a little higher over your mouth and nose, you pick up a shopping basket.

You get some sandwich bread and pickled vegetables, some beef jerky to shut Vladimir up with when he gets a little more sour and annoying, some food to last you for a couple of days more in case things don’t go according to plan, and, obviously, Sergei’s favorite chips.

At the counter, when you pay for the food and the gas to pull from the pump in front of which you parked, the farthest away from the mini-mart, the clerk tries to make small talk. He looks young, like he might still be in his first years of college if the books on the stool next to him are anything to go by, but there’s something in the way he looks at you that unsettles you. Even on a bad day (and today isn’t exactly a great day), you’re sure you would be able to take him down barehanded, but there’s something today… You feel it in the air, smell it like a bloodhound, and it makes you stand on edge, pulled as tight as a bowstring.

“Cold, isn’t it?” smiles the boy. The neon light above him catches on his lip piercing and it drags a shiver down your spine.

You do your best not to turn around in case this isn’t just inside your head. Instead, you smile back politely, replying with a single, emphasized, “Freezing.”

In the second he looks away to ring up the three jugs of water you put on the counter, you quickly glance to your left, where a display with sunglasses stands. You don’t see any movement on the mirror lenses of one of the pairs on display.

“Are you getting one of those as well?”

You wonder if it’s just something in your head, this feeling. Some play of your mind, after having spent so much time keeping an eye on the rearview mirror to make sure no one was tailing you. You wonder whether no one really has. Whether it’s normal. Whether whoever organized that attack really thinks every target has died, whether now you’re just being paranoid.

“No, thanks. Just looking.”

Why’s this dude so fucking slow at putting your stuff into the plastic bag? Why’s he staring at you the way he is?

“Crazy, huh?” he asks, smiling again. For the second time, he gives you goosebumps.

Hurry the fuck up, you beg in your mind.

“What is?”

“Those bombings in Hell’s Kitchen.” The dude nods toward the television, mounted on the wall to your right. There’s still a service covering the attack you’re running away from. “New York’s really going crazy, man. I wonder what happened.”

You nod. “Crazy indeed.”

Your fingers itch to touch your gun and make sure it’s still there―it is, you know it without looking, but it’s still an urge that you can’t really shake off.

You shift your weight onto your other leg.

“You not from ‘round here, are you?”

The beef jerky is finally in the bag. Only the chips have remained now.

You shake your head. “I’m from further south,” you lie. “Going north to visit family.”

You’d kiss his forehead when he finally puts those fucking chips inside the bag.

He nods and smiles like you’re saying the most interesting shit he’s ever heard in his lifetime. “Say, need a hand carrying this stuff to the car?” he asks when he’s finally giving you the rest of your money after you pay for both groceries and gas. “I can help you pump.”

The look in his eyes when he says that, when he smirks at his own choice of words, makes your stomach turn upside down.

You’re positive you can carry everything yourself―two jugs of water in one hand, the third and the bag of food in the other. You’ve had to carry far heavier things in your life than groceries for two days.

“Nah, I’m fine.” You hope he catches the drift by the tone of your voice―pleasant but still blistering nonetheless―but he’s already pulling up the reclinable part of the counter to step out.

“It’s fine, it’s a chill evening anyway. Got nothing else to do.”

You’re too scared to make a scene. What if you do and the people who wanted your people dead find you? You might have told Sergei you’d die with him, but not now. There are still quite a few years of your life you want to spend by his side.

The boy tries to get a hold of your shopping bag when some movement from the corner of your eye catches your attention. Your heartbeat skyrockets, and your brain threatens to go into survival mode. You’re mentally mapping possible ways out and obstacles on your path before you can even consciously realize you’re doing it.

The bell above the door jingles when the door opens, and you’re this close to dropping everything to grab your gun and take shelter behind one of the shelves.

“Babe?” Sergei’s voice crashes everything to a halt. He’s standing there like some fucking Prince Charming, face hidden behind a combo of black scarf and beanie―his best attempt at hiding just what a bad shape his face has been reduced to. “Got everything?”

It’s just when you reply, “Yes,” and start making your way toward him, all the while holding back that sigh of relief, that you realize what he’s just called you. He never calls you “baby” or any variation of it―neither in English nor in Russian―and you never do the same. Over time, it has become a code word of yours.

Better get the hell outta here.

He’s right behind you when you leave after saying the weirdest goodbye to the cashier boy. Sergei takes the jugs of water from your grasp and doesn’t question you when you speedwalk to the car.

“I have this really weird feeling about this place,” you say, shoving everything on the backseat next to a confused, but highly alert Vladimir.

“D’you think they’re looking for us?” Sergei asks as he starts pumping gas. You notice how he’s keeping an eye on the store you just left, and when you glance in that direction, you notice the boy has left the confines of the counter and is now standing outside, by the double doors, idly smoking a cigarette.

Why would anyone here even know you?

And why would anyone back in Hell’s Kitchen have pictures of Sergei and Vladimir for an eventual manhunt?

How would they even know someone survived the attack? Would they really look for the corpses?

The boy waves at you. You awkwardly wave back. It’s something straight out of a movie, almost like you’re surrounded beyond the borders of this light island of a gas station.

The hairs on the back of your neck are standing straight, and you hug yourself against the chill of the evening breeze―although you’re actually touching your gun, finally making sure it’s still where you put it.

You haven’t forgotten how Sergei hasn’t told you the reason why he called you ‘babe’ earlier. You haven’t forgotten about that. Just like you haven’t forgotten you also need to pee, but you’re sure you can hold it in a little longer. You’d honestly rather bite your own hand off than walk out to where the toilets are here, especially with how that boy is still staring at you.

Neither you nor Sergei say a word for the next half an hour, not even when Vladimir complains about “fucking stupid American bread” and your “poor choices for food” (when he’d really been surviving off of vodka, cigarettes, and fast-food take-outs before you entered the picture and he became an almost constant fixed addition at your kitchen table.)

“Saw anything weird in that shop?” Sergei’s jaw is clenched tight when you turn to look at him, and his hold on the steering wheel is white-knuckled. It’s enough to shut Vladimir up.

You wonder what he means by that.

“Not really, but I had the weirdest feeling. I kept on checking my back on some sunglasses on the counter.” You recall how much that unsettled you back there, but you don’t tell him that. “That dude almost insisted on taking me back to the car and ‘helping me pump’.”

He clenches his teeth that tad bit harder, and you almost worry he’s going to grind them to the gums.

“Serzh?” you call, lightly touching the stubble on his cheek, tracing the edge of the band-aid on his wound.

“There were four bikes on the back, a few feet from the toilets.” He glances in your direction first and then in the rearview mirror. As you turn to check the empty road behind you, shrouded in darkness, he continues, “I didn’t see anyone in that store with you and that dude, though.”

“Bikes were well taken care of, too,” adds Vladimir.

It makes your stomach sink, but at least now you know you weren’t just being paranoid.

“We heard some noises outside while we were pissing, like someone trying to be quiet.”

“Do you think they’re already after you?” you wonder out loud, and then more to yourself, “and this far away?”

“I doubt it.” Sergei shakes his head. His right hand leaves the steering wheel and grabs a hold of your left thigh, giving it what feels like his attempt at a reassuring squeeze. “But I think there were people there that were up to no good. I found someone’s golden necklace on the floor by the trash.”

Vladimir mutters something against ‘pieces of shit preying on women,’ but then he’s digging into the sandwich he’s managed to make with food he despises so much and he shuts up.

Sergei briefly glances at him through the rearview mirror before giving your thigh another gentle squeeze. “You still remember how to shoot that gun, da?”

“We went to the shooting range just two weeks ago!” you complain. “Of course, I do.”

“It’s different when you’re shooting real people.”

Vladimir interjects. “I’ve always told you to let her come along to our business stuff.”

Sergei curses behind gritted teeth, nerves ready to go off. “I’m not punching you just because you’re still my boss but if you were anyone else right now, I’d be taking you out of your misery.”

“Don’t fight, you two,” you sigh, turning back and pinching Vlad’s inner thigh until he winces in pain. “I’d fight to survive,” you then reassure Sergei. “Either with a gun, a knife, or my hands.”

You see him visibly relax. It’s almost like he’s finally breathing normally now. The knuckles of his left hand aren’t white anymore on the steering wheel, and the hand on your thigh is more like a comforting weight now than him trying to anchor himself.

“And you were there,” you add, after taking the two sandwiches Vladimir’s handing you. One for you, one for Sergei. “I always trust you to get to me on time.”

He looks at you for a moment longer, the road ahead of you straight and completely empty, before he takes a bite of his dinner.

There’s a lot more behind your words than you do say out loud. Like when he got back home to you, a few nights ago, ready to send you―and only you―to safety. Or like tonight, when he opened the door of that store and looked and felt just like a savior to you, Ariadne’s thread leading you to safety.

Thirty hours later, you’re in Cuba.

The flight from the meeting point to a remote location on the outskirts of Cuban civilization was relatively calm, even with the delay that caused the pilots to show up six hours later than agreed upon. The drive to the house of the man who’s helping you, however, ends up being a bit more tense. Between Vladimir’s constant moaning and grunting and Sergei fighting to stay awake, you were on high alert, all your nerves pulled almost to their limits.

The guy’s villa is nice, though. Surrounded by thick, tall walls. Entrances guarded by his men. The perimeter of the whole property is studded with security cameras―you have no doubt every square foot inside the house is constantly filmed as well. It’s what reassures you for the first time ever since Sergei woke you up at such an ungodly hour five days ago. It’s not even because of your own safety that you feel yourself finally breathe and your tense muscles loosen up―it’s for the reassurance Sergei is safe, here, finally. Vladimir as well, but truth be told, after all the complaining he’s done after getting rescued, you’d kick him in his shins yourself if you had the chance to.

“I knew I’d see you again,” Homer smiles, kissing the back of your hand as Sergei shoots daggers from his eyes―he’s still not over the fact that this sleazy man tried to court you while you were already taken.

Homer is not the guy’s real name, of course. Not even the Ranskahov brothers ever knew it, no one does. He would have told you if you had slept with him, and you’re still pissed at how annoyed Vlad had been when he found out you had, in fact, turned down the offer―you also haven’t forgotten how Sergei had almost raised hell in the face of both offenses.

Still, Homer was your best bet at a last-minute alliance―Vladimir and his men still did help him get out of the Stated unscathed, so there’s always been this favor card Homer had to pay back. The fact that you make him hard in his pants is just a precious added bonus that gives you brighter hope at the prospect of also leaving the American continent alive.

“Thank you for having our back.” Seeing Vladimir openly struggle to keep his balance as he moves forward to stand in front of his unexpected ally surprises you.

“You helped me when no one else did. It’s just fair I pay back your generosity,” comes the reply.

You let Sergei pull you back by one of your hips until you are standing side by side with him.

Homer chuckles at that and sends a wink in your direction. “I got the message three years ago,” he reassures Sergei. “The princess is taken. I won’t make a move unless she does first.”

“She won’t.”

There are not many instances you’ve witnessed where Sergei has been possessive of you, but this guy has always been an exception. You can only hope neither your man’s possessiveness nor Homer’s fascination with you will pose a threat to your survival.

Things seem to go well, however. The man of the house lends you his personal medical team to have a look at both Sergei and Vladimir while you get to enjoy a stroll in Homer’s greenhouse after being denied access to the rooms of the house dedicated to the clinic.

It unsettles you a bit and robs you of the chance to enjoy your own private botanical tour among colorful flowers of every kind. If anything, Homer keeps his hands and comments to himself―although you’re not so sure about where his gaze wanders when you’re not looking at him―and he limits himself to a retelling of what each flower is called and what their characteristics are.

Two of his armed men follow you close by, but whether it’s because you’re seen as a possible threat or that’s just another day in this house for them, you cannot tell. Still, you feel watched―every single one of your moves is being recorded, and you can’t quite tell how comfortable you are with that.

Honestly speaking, you feel quite safe here, but you wouldn’t step into the fire and guarantee the same for the two men you’ve come here with. Homer might still want you, after all, and now that Vladimir’s group has pretty much been exterminated, two Russians don’t pose that much of a threat anymore. The fact that they used to be far more powerful than Homer himself doesn’t even matter because they’re not that powerful now. They’re closer to defeat than they are to victory, and a smart person thirsty for power would definitely take advantage of that.

With that realization, the humid air of the greenhouse thickens. You feel it weigh down on your shoulders as Homer shows you some hibiscus plants, apparently his pride and joy.

“Ah, here are my favorites!” he exclaims. “What do you think? I import special fertilizer just for them.”

You smile, but inside your body, a million and one thoughts are eating away at your stomach, each worse than the last. “They’re quite the beauty,” you find yourself honestly agreeing.

This had better be your paranoia getting the best of you. Because while Homer would get nothing by killing what’s left of your friends, he would also get nothing by helping them. And in a world where letting them live could potentially get him something back in the future, you prefer to try and give him the benefit of the doubt.

“Still, they don’t quite compare to your beauty.” He places a flower behind your ear, one he cut with the shiny scissors he managed to fetch while you were lost in thought, and smiles at you.

“We’re finally in agreement.” It’s the second time in less than forty-eight hours that Sergei’s voice reaches you like a beacon of light.

Homer turns in his direction as well and you don’t miss that flash of disappointment speed across the look in his eyes.

Your anxieties find some peace. He’s still alive, there’s nothing to worry about―for the time being, at least. The band-aid on his right cheek has been changed, and the appearance of his face looks much cleaner now, including the cut on his eyebrow you stitched up after leaving New York City.

“However, she’s much more than just a pretty face,” he continues, sternly. If Vlad were here now, he would chew his head off, but you welcome his words.

Your fingers entwine with his when he finally reaches your side, and he gives your hand a reassuring squeeze. You feel a bit too exposed without your gun, so it’s great to finally be reunited with the man you love.

“How’s Vlad?” you ask, looking up into his eyes and exploiting the excuse to finally lock Homer out of your mind for a minute.

“Getting treated and stitched up. He has a couple of broken bones, too. Maybe that’s why he was crankier than usual,” he smirks, his Russian ringing amused.

You slap his arm, and from the corner of your eye, you notice the way Homer is looking at the two of you. Trying to decipher what that might mean is something you’d rather not do, at least not in front of him, so you allow Sergei to be the first to speak up again.

“We’d really better get going now, if it’s okay with you,” he says, eyeing what he realizes to be a new nuisance in the life he shares with you. “Neither of us has had a chance to shower since last week.”

You don’t really reek yet, but now that you’re reminded of the fact, you do start to feel uncomfortable in your own clothes.

Homer doesn’t complain, nor does he try to hold you back. Instead, he smiles understandingly and makes chit-chat as he leads you to your rooms. Plural. Separate rooms, that’s what you’re given. Granted, they’re next to each other, but they’re two separate rooms nonetheless. It rubs Sergei the wrong way.

You’d also really not sleep alone in this mansion, especially when it belongs to a man who seems to still be set on pursuing you if not romantically, at least physically.

“No need for all these rooms, we wouldn’t want to overstay our welcome.” You know Sergei’s more than good at lying. He’s an expert at what he does―no wonder why, after Anatoly, he’s always been Vladimir’s right hand. Still, it surprises you, how calm he is right now, his way with words when you’re sure the boxer in him is itching to come out and fight. “One for Vlad and one for the two of us―” he continues, raising your joined hands― “will be more than enough.”

Sergei almost starts talking shit about your host when you make your way inside the room, after fetching your bags. However, having known him and his antics for so long, you’re much quicker than he has the time to be, and you silence him with a kiss.

God.

Fuck.

Maybe this is it.

This is the moment you realize you can finally catch your breath for a while. Slow down, stop glancing into the rearview mirror.

It feels like you haven’t kissed in forever. Like you’ve been apart for so long, even despite the extremely long car drive you’ve been on. Without your endless worries and the fear of someone tailing you, it’s almost like you can finally get close again. Vladimir Ranskahov out of the picture―love him to pieces on a good day as you may―definitely helps.

Sergei kisses you back with the same intensity, like he’s parched and trying to drink you in, and when he pulls you in closer to him by your butt cheeks, you take the opportunity to wrap your arms around his neck.

“I saw cameras everywhere in this house,” you whisper into the band-aid on his cheek when he moves his kisses from your lips to your neck. “Are you sure we can trust him?” Your voice remains low, barely above a whisper; you wonder whether the guest rooms have been bugged as well.

Sergei sighs into your skin, and his fingertips dig into your hips for a moment. “I don’t,” he says, hushed Russian into your cheek when he kisses it. “I want you a billion kilometers away from him.”

He picks up the hibiscus flower Homer placed behind your ear and, being careful not to pull on your hair, pulls it off of you.

“I’m going to fucking kill him if he dares to touch you again.” He doesn’t whisper―maybe fear isn’t tickling his stomach as it does yours―and you can only hope neither Homer nor his men know the Russian language beyond a da, privet, spasibo. Do svidaniya, too, if we want to be generous.

Still, you don’t think openly insulting the man in his own lair is a smart idea.

“Nothing happened,” you try to reassure him instead of voicing your concerns, cupping his good cheek as he crushes that flower in his fist. “You know he’s not the one I want.”

“I trust you, I just don’t trust him,” he insists. He closes his eyes with a sigh. “I think he’s made it clear enough that he just. doesn’t. care.” He enunciates the last three words slowly, emphatically, with petulance in his voice that’s usually so very characteristic of Vladimir when he complains. Lie down with dogs, wake up with fleas, you guess.

“We can simply ignore him,” you press on, bunching up the hem of his shirt in your fists. “We’ll leave as soon as Vlad’s fit to do it safely.”

A groan. “Fuck Vova.”

“I’d rather fuck you,” you bite back, tongue in cheek, a finger tracing the skin of his abdomen above the hem of his jeans. “After we take a shower,” you add when he gives you his best oh-I-will-fuck-you-alright face. “And then, you’ll tell me exactly what happened that night.”

You figure it’s a good compromise: you both get to have some fun, take your mind off of things, and then you’ll finally get your answers.

Why you had to leave.

Who attacked Vladimir and his men.

If everyone really is dead.

What the fuck is going on.

And what the fuck will happen now.

The shower is far bigger than any other you’ve ever seen in person, least of all used. You step in first while Sergei undresses, and you let the water cascade down your face.

A contented sigh leaves your lips.

You already know you will write down this shower in your book as the best so far.

The gentle stream of water is a much-needed, warm caress on your face and shoulders, even down your back, after it started aching one day into your desperate drive to safety. The tension in your muscles starts trickling down toward the drain, and the sensation of being absolutely filthy eases up a bit. You feel like you could even postpone lunch―all you’re in the mood for right now is this shower, some Sergei, a side dish of the answers you’ve been waiting for, and then a long nap as sweet as dessert.

Behind you, Sergei whistles appreciatively, no doubt enjoying the view of your naked body.

It makes you chuckle. How normal this feels now doesn’t weigh down on you the way that same feeling did back in the car.

You grin as you turn around, hands rubbing up your face to flick away the water raining down on you. Your cheeky comeback withers on your tongue and turns into a gasp when your eyes land on him. It’s not because he’s already hardening between his legs, but rather because he is absolutely covered in bruises.

He never mentioned being that hurt before. You’ve seen him numerous times after his fights, and his body has never looked like that―so hurt, so bruised with a pain that must run much deeper than skin level. You have heard him groan here and there―at this point probably when he couldn’t stand it anymore―but never would you have thought him to be this hurt.

“Oh, my god, Serzh…”

You can barely understand how he’s moving without flinching.

“I’m alright,” he reassures you softly when he reaches you. He grabs you by your hands and places them on his chest. His heartbeat is right beneath your fingertips and his bruises. Your right thumb caresses up and down his skin as you take in the sight before you.

You try not to let your lip quiver.

His strength and abilities are no secret to you but seeing him hurt is always a pang in your guts. Today the sensation cuts deeper, it twists and turns, stings even.

“I’m alright,” he repeats, taking your face in his hands and kissing you.

It serves as a good distraction, if anything. When you close your eyes, the mental photocopy of his marred body slowly fades away, until all you feel is his body flush against your front.

He takes one extra step forward with you in his arms and then he turns the shower off.

Your heads tilt when the kiss deepens and now you can feel how your heart picks up its rhythm for a different reason than you being worried for him. His hands move from your neck, down your shoulders and sides. When they reach your waist, your heart skips a beat, and your breath catches in your throat.

“I’ll heal so quick, milaya…” he whispers into the crook of your neck before kissing you there. “Promise you I’m fine now.”

A graze of his teeth, a swipe of his tongue, and you can feel yourself throb in a place that’s not your chest.

Still, “You should’ve told me,” you complain meekly.

You’re so pliant in his hands, practically boneless. Your knees don’t give out on you just because he has you so close against him.

He feels rock hard against your abdomen, almost a reminder of how deep he’s going to be inside you in not that long. It makes your head spin. He makes your head spin.

Your hands come up to his hair, then. They’re wet against his body untouched by water. Every part of him is.

“You’re the remedy to all my ailments,” he professes into your skin.

You chuckle. Maybe it’s because of his words, or the way he teasingly gives your ass a squeeze. Maybe it’s both.

“Let me shower you first,” he continues before you can tell him to stop with the jokes. “Then, when we’re done, we’ll show that douche how fucking taken you are. I bet that peeper has cameras in bathrooms as well.”

He pecks your lips and then pulls on your lower lip with his teeth. He doesn’t make a move, though. He waits for your green light. You know he’d limit himself to a simple shower if you said no, no matter how hard he could be.

You’re way past the embarrassment, however. After Anatoly caught the two of you fucking in the garage when you thought everyone had left, you stopped caring.

So, you grin. “Let’s show him,” you giggle.

Sergei is incredibly gentle as he showers you, lathers you in the scent of this new soap you’re being lent. His words, however, are anything but. “Bet he wishes you’d smell like him,” he whispers into your ear from behind.

You chuckle at his jealousy, even when his hands get to massaging your breasts and his erection nestles itself between your butt cheeks. “What’s gotten into you?” you giggle. He knows he’s your ride-or-die, after all.

“I’d say you, but it’s been so long since we've done that.” The pout in his voice is as clear as day.

He seems to have an idea, then, and he spins the two of you around.

“Look at you,” he grins. His soapy hands trail down your sides and then back up. His teeth nip at the crook of your neck the moment his hands give your boobs another squeeze. A bit rougher, this time.

But you’re not looking at your own reflection in the mirror. You’re looking at him, most of his bruises now hidden by your body standing in front of his.

He notices that, picks up on your line of thought the second your gazes meet in the mirror. He says something about you thinking way too much, about how it’s so new, the fact that you’re not running your mouth as much as usual instead. When he turns you back around, he distracts you by shampooing your hair.

“I don’t know how you managed to act as if you weren’t hurt.” You hope the reason is not a dumb I didn’t want you to worry.

“It looks worse than it really is, I promise.” He smiles at you as he massages your scalp and it’s like just any other day, when you’d choose to shower together because your jobs kept you apart long enough during the day.

You decide to bypass the sight of his stitched brow and bandaged cheek. You focus on the light freckles on his face instead, on the way they must have shaved his stubble before, during, or after his visit with Homer’s doctor.

“Let me shower you as well,” you smile softly when he’s done rinsing the suds out of your hair. Then, you turn the shower off. He laughs when you add a whispered stinky under your breath.

There’s half a plan quickly forming in your mind, and it has nothing to do with running away from this house and not even with your (maybe paranoid) worries.

You gently scrub his chest with a soapy loofah, careful to be as light as you can when going over all the sore spots on his body. His hands are firmly planted on your hips, squeezing lightly every now and then, like a cat. He’s also looking at you and you mirror his smile with a mischievous smirk of your own.

His cock is still hard between your bodies.

You don’t give him time to suspect anything. One second your left hand is holding onto his bicep, the next it’s wrapped around the base of his erection.

He hisses in surprise, a sound that lasts a fraction of a second, but it’s the look in his eyes that makes your toes curl against the tiled floor.

“Milaya…” he warns, voice dripping the same desire that’s making him heavy between his legs.

Some would say you’re playing a dangerous game, poking the bear while it’s chilling. But you want him to prove it to you―that he’s fine, that he’s not really hurt. (Frankly, you also want him to fuck this nightmare of an adventure out of your system. It doesn’t matter whether Homer hears. Hell, it doesn’t even matter whether he watches!)

“What?” You bat your eyelashes at him, badly hiding your mischief behind a broken innocence mask.

You move your hand up, tease the underside of his glans with your thumb, then move your hand back down.

He moans under his breath, never once breaking eye contact. It makes you throb between your legs. You don’t even know if it’s the water still on your skin, or if you’re actually dripping.

“’tis what you wanted, no?”

The loofah is somewhere on the floor by now. Your left hand lazily, without rhythm, strokes him while your right hand moves up his chest. Then, it’s resting behind his neck.

“Know what?” you whisper millimeters from his parted lips. His breathing has become labored. “’think I’ll make you come like this first.”

You’re beaming. His breathing is shivering slightly. Is he trying to stay quiet?

“Fuck, you’re a minx,” he breathes, his hands pulling you in closer by your hips, until your hand barely has room to move.

He kisses the grin off of your lips. There’s a certain insistence behind the action, and he pulls on your lower lip, then adds his tongue to the mix.

You moan first, and then he follows suit when your hand reaches the head of his cock and twists.

His fingertips dig into the plush of your ass, forcing you closer. The kiss distracts you, so his slap on one of your butt cheeks catches you by surprise, makes you whimper right into his mouth.

The movement of your left hand on his cock quickens in response while the fingers of your right hand slip into his hair, at the base of his neck.

You tug on the strands.

He groans.

In your hold, his cock twitches.

His impatience becomes your own then, and you’re barely aware of the way your thighs are pressing together―trying to relieve or chase a sensation, you don’t know, you’re a little too busy to give it actual thought.

In the middle of the two of you kissing, of your hand pumping him, he finds himself with his back against the wall. The cold tiles against his skin make him hiss―or maybe it’s his bruises. Again, maybe a bit of both.

He ruts into your hand.

When your thumb teases at his head, the sound he lets out is a bit of a moan, a bit of a groan, a bit of a broken chuckle. He calls your name against your lips and when you look up at him, you notice he has his eyes squeezed shut in pleasure.

You try not to whimper, but your breathing still does falter. Your heart in your chest is a deafening machine, and your mind, the weakest will to ever exist.

You’re on your knees before you can take the conscious decision to, thighs tightly squeezed shut together. There are still remains of body wash drying on your chest from when you hugged him instead of rinsing him.

It takes Sergei your tongue licking up the length of his erection to realize the change in your position. Eyelids heady, lips parted, the look he fixes you with is enough to make you beam with pride, like you’re the sexiest being to ever walk the Earth.

You give him a grin, and then you’re taking him all the way to the back of your mouth. His hands are in your hair the second the head of his cock hits the back of your throat. Suddenly, there are Ukrainian curses slipping out of his lips, here and there, a sign that he’s losing control in favor of the pleasure you’re bringing him.

It doesn’t take him long to come. It never really does―he’s always had a thing for your mouth, whether you use it for words or to suck the living soul out of him.

He always swears he’s in love with you, and this time isn’t an exception. He’s groaning it right now, voice quivering. His hands are keeping you in place, your nose touching his pelvis, ropes of cum shooting down your throat. Under these conditions, your only response to his declaration can obviously be a moan. It heightens the sensations for him, his cock still in your mouth, and he’s quick to pull out.

When you look up, his chest is flushed, the tips of his ears red, and he’s out of breath.

The smirk you send his way makes him chuckle breathlessly, your head still in his grasp.

“Fuck, I missed that mouth.”

One of his thumbs moves towards the corner of your lips, where some of his cum has slipped out.

“You barely even gag anymore.”

The muscles in his thighs contract when he watches you suck the pad of his thumb clean.

“Keep that up and I’ll get hard again,” he warns, cradling your face like you’re worth more than this whole damned mansion. You are―he doesn’t really, explicitly tell you so, but it’s clear in the way he acts, like he worships the very ground you walk on.

“Isn’t that the point?” you smile, standing up. Your lips automatically meet his, and his hands automatically find their place on your hips. “I want you so bad, Serzh…” you whisper against him, one hand blindingly going for the shower head.

It’s hard to rinse the dried body wash off of his body when he’s so insistently kissing your neck, so close to him you could almost feel his heartbeat against your own. Giggling ensues when you force him back and you wipe his front clean with one hand while doing your best not to spray water on his injured face.

The look on his face as he watches your every move is worth a thousand words, if not more. It makes blood rush to your face, and your gaze moves to his chest, his eyes too expressive for your own sanity. Like he wants to devour you, drink you in, and it’s not even because of the competition he wants to ward off.

“My turn now,” he suddenly says, grabbing that damned shower head from your hand and hanging it back in its place. Then, you’re the one against the wall and he’s the one on his knees.

Fuck, do you love this sight!

“’been thinking about this sweet pussy for so long…” He makes a sound in the back of his throat, like he can’t believe he’s finally being served dessert―despite it definitely being his favorite.

You let him maneuver you until your left leg is on his shoulder, your hands in his hair, but when he inches closer, you pull at his strands―

―not quick enough: he’s already licking a stripe up your pussy, until he places a kiss on your clit. Your mind clouds over, and it’s like having cotton in your mouth. “Not with that cheek,” you manage to complain through the haze brought on by him going to town on your core. You don’t want to somehow, accidentally, mess up his freshly bandaged wound.

“’s fine, I don’t need it to eat you out, do I?” He kisses your inner thigh, the one resting on his shoulder, and when you look down, he’s already looking up at you.

There’s a gleam in his eyes, like he’s promising you heaven on Earth. Like by the time he’s done with you, you won’t even be able to tell what day it is.

And who are you to say no? Oral with Sergei is a glorious experience, unlike any other you’ve lived through, maybe only surpassed by the actual sex―with him, of course.

It starts off toe-curling, with the tip of his tongue teasing your clit and one of his fingers pushing into the heat of your pussy.

You barely hear what he groans―so fucking wet already―your mind is simply too hazy. It’s spinning right after, when he starts suckling, and that one finger turns into two.

You hear yourself then, underneath his moans and your own. The sound of your slick, of how wet you are as the movements of his hand change rhythm and angle. When he starts hitting that spot, ravaging you like a man starved, you fear your knee giving out.

“God,” you moan out, pulling on his hair subconsciously―and maybe a bit too hard. Whether you believe in God, or in many, or none altogether, he eats you out in such a way that he does feel like one. Like he could make you see stars or even the entire universe without really making you leave the room or lift a finger.

The pitch of your moans heightens when he adds a third finger, stretching you to make you take him, and you feel yourself clenching impossibly tight around his digits.

Oh, fuck, how much did you miss this! You didn’t really think about this part of your relationship while on the run, but now you never want to leave this bathroom.

When you gather the strength to peek at the mirror, you’re met with the sight of your hair, wet and messy against the tiled wall. Your left calf is hiding part of a nasty bruise on his back. Even in his current state, however, he doesn’t show signs of hurt or discomfort.

Then he does something. Either with his mouth or his fingers―you’re honestly too lost in the pleasure he’s giving you to even rationally realize what’s rubbing you the right way. All you know is that your breathing deepens, your moans turn into whines, and your eyes cross behind closed eyelids.

“God, like that, don’t stop,” you beg, only half coherent, as one of your hands moves up to grab a hold of your boob. It’s like you’re looking for support, even despite knowing he’d never let you fall, never let you get hurt.

Your brain doesn’t even fully register what he’s saying to you above the deafening galloping of your heartbeat.

You just need to come so badly… Maybe you even tell him so, and maybe he adds a little more vigor behind his actions. His fingers curl just right inside you, and he doesn’t get up for air one second. Mouth suctioned to your clit, he gives you all he’s capable of.

Maybe he even looks up at the way you’re playing with your breasts. Maybe he even makes a comment―you definitely feel the vibrations of it against your core the same way you feel those of his moans. All you know is that you’re coming, pulled under the surface of coherence by the wave of this sudden orgasm. It blinds you, even when your eyelids are already closed, and you swear your heart skips quite a few beats.

Maybe you even do see god this time (maybe in the shape of your lover), as you give in to the pleasure, surrender to its onslaught, and spill your orgasm on Sergei’s face―if you weren’t soaring so far high up the heavens, you’d definitely force him to pull back and not mess up his injuries. But you don’t even think you’re part of this world anymore.

It takes you quite a while to come back to your senses. Slowly, the fixture lights in the ceiling come back into focus and your blood stops roaring in your ears. Your breathing is still quick, and you barely register the way your legs are quivering―

fuck, you want to do it again

―both feet on the ground.

It takes you a moment more to realize Sergei is standing right in front of you, his hands on your hips, one of his legs between yours to help you keep your balance.

His dick feels impossibly hard again, pressed against your thigh by your close proximity.

“You were so fucking loud,” he beams, looking prouder than he’s ever looked. You match him on that intensity, but in your case, it’s just because of how fucked out you are. “Squirted and all.” He’s so smug about him―you want to kiss him until he’s as breathless as you are. “I bet everyone in this house heard you.”

You don’t even have the energy to let yourself be embarrassed by that possibility. Sergei always has this effect on you: he obliterates everything else, until he’s the only focus of your attention.

“Serzh…” It comes out as an airy whine, your call of his name. You’ve barely touched the ground that you already want to float up again.

He hums, and then, “What?” right against your lips. He peppers them in kisses as light as feathers until he’s pulling breathless chuckles out of you.

“Please.”

You’re throbbing again, tingling all over.

On your thigh, you feel how his cock is already leaking.

“Please what?”

He’s on your neck, adding to his own work of art of hickeys. His hands are cupping your breasts, testing their weight, then teasing your hardened nipples.

Your hands shoot up to his biceps when he twists one of your nipples between deft fingers, a drawn-out moan diving from your lips.

You swear you could drown in him.

“Please, fuck me.” You look into his eyes as you say it. His pupils are blown and the lower part of his face is still glistening in your juices.

You taste yourself on his tongue when you kiss him. You should be looking for Vladimir, joining Homer for lunch, but you can’t even move yourself from this spot in the shower.

Before you can start pleading with him again, you’re taking matters into your own hands―his cock in your left hand, to be precise―and you’re turning around to face the wall. The cold tiles against your sensitive nipples pull a whine from the very center of your being.

From behind you, Sergei chuckles into your neck, entertaining the way you swipe the head of his cock along your dripping entrance but refraining from even slipping just the tip in.

“You want it from the back?” he murmurs, kissing your skin where he’s just stopped teasing you with his tongue.

So, what if you’re already delirious?

“Yesss.” The sound of that s stretches for a second too long, until the air is caught in your throat when he grants you with the tiniest thrust, enough to taunt your heat with his head.

“How bad?” he asks, one hand at the base of your throat and the fingers of the other inching down your front, your abdom― oh, fuck.

The moan that escapes you when he circles your clit once is so loud, it rings in your own ears.

All you can muster up after that is a questioning hum, his burning-hot presence behind you―against you―is enough to make your toes curl.

“How bad do you want it?”

Your eyes roll to the back of your head when he touches your clit again at the same time his cock breaches your entrance to give you just the bare minimum.

“So bad.” Your voice is reduced to a whisper. As you anticipate what’s to come, your lungs struggle to take in enough air. “I’ll go crazy if you don’t take me right now,” you manage to breathe out when a hand on your hip stops your attempts at fucking yourself back onto his dick.

You hear the vibrations of his chuckle in your back and then, when you least expect it, he’s abruptly thrusting up into your pussy. It catches you off guard, and you’re so worked up you almost fear you’re going to come on the spot.

You don’t.

Instead, you find yourself wrapped up in his arms, his hips unmoving. You can’t distinguish whether it’s his cock pulsing inside your pussy or whether it’s all just you.

“I almost fucked you in that car with Vova in the back,” he confesses, voice strained and breath labored. “I needed to feel you so bad to know everything was fine.”

Are you even still breathing?

Are you choking on his dick or is it still in your pussy?

Your hips writhe, walls clenching down around him.

“You still with me?”

You manage to nod against his shoulder, barely aware of all the small moans that are slipping past your lips.

He smiles into your temple, and then he’s taking a step back. Two. Three. You feel each movement deep in your core, where he’s still safely lodged, and you’re on your tiptoes, doing your best to keep up with him.

When he turns the both of you around and makes you lean forward, you realize he’s brought you to stand between the twin sinks on the counter, right in front of the wall-long mirror. You catch his eye in your reflection, his body curled over yours so that he can press kisses to the crook of your neck. His cock pushes the tiniest bit deeper this way and it makes you moan, eyelids so heavied down by pleasure that it’s hard to keep them open.

“Wouldn’t want to crack either of our skulls in the shower,” he explains, finally―finally―pulling his hips back just to then thrust the air out of you the next second.

“Fuck.” How are you still even capable of forming words?

Your shoulders sink down for a moment as your weight rests on your forearms. Sergei’s hands on your hips luckily hold you up.

You call his name, pleadingly. The head of his cock is bullying this spot inside you that makes your eyes almost cross, fuck, you really need to come.

Maybe he’s even in your chest. Honestly who knows at this point. You feel him everywhere.

“You’re always so tight,” he pants, fucking into you so hard your breath hitches in your throat. You find it impossible to believe he’s just got out of the worst physical and mental scare of your lives. “So… wet― shit―”

His hips stutter when his right hand finds its rightful place between your legs, on your cunt. You clench around him so hard when he starts playing with your clit again that he swears he can see stars even with his eyes open.

“Fuck, you’re the death of me,” he groans, meeting your blurring gaze in the mirror that’s starting to fog up. He gives one of your boobs a squeeze with his free hand before he starts playing with your sensitive nipple― “And what a sweet death that’d be.”

―to be fair, every part of you is. Sensitive, that is, and overstimulated. All your nerve endings are alight, fired up by the way he’s fucking into you, like it’s a sport he’s fucking elite at.

It empties your mind completely as your body is full of him. Your mind is, too, and your chant of his name rises in volume.

Fuck, you’re so close. His movements on your overstimulated clit almost make you sob.

If this is how you die, you’ll honestly welcome it with a full heart. There’s no part of you that doesn’t feel full to the brim anyway right now, for that matter.

You tell him in between moans, how close you are, how good he’s fucking you. Even if you’re covered in sweat, you’ve probably never felt so good as you do now. Is it because you’re surrounded by the illusion of safety in this house? Fuck, you don’t know.

“I’m so close, too,” echoes Sergei’s voice.

With the last of his strength, he pulls you up. His right hand is still stubbornly playing with your poor clit; his left arm keeps you upright, your back against his chest, and his hand under your chin keeps your head facing forward.

The sight in the mirror almost does you in. There are drops of sweat rolling down the side of his face. His skin is flushed in exertion, but it’s the hunger in his eyes that makes you moan out loud, loudly. Then your breasts, bouncing with each thrust into your heat. Then the smallest glimpse of his cock, rock hard, a pearly ring of your juices at the base.

“Shit, where do you want me?” he groans―“Inside?”―in a broken voice.

“Please,” you sob back. “Yes.”

You’re holding onto his left arm for dear life, unable to hold back your orgasm any longer. It hits you with the force of a freight train when Sergei simultaneously gives your throat a gentle squeeze while his right fingers flick your clit one last time. Everything goes white behind your closed eyelids, and you can’t hear anything above the ringing in your ears.

Your walls spasming around his dick trigger his own release and you both fall forward, almost boneless. You do hear his moans right next to your ear and he’s also not holding them back. His whole weight is on you, his left arm trapped between your chest and the countertop, while his hips still haphazardly rut into yours as your pussy milks him to the last drop.

He doesn’t pull out for the longest time, nor does he straighten himself up. You don’t complain, though―even with this whole man on top of you, it’s like you’ve never breathed better. To your chagrin, the time eventually comes for him to move, however. You lift your head a bit to watch his reflection in the mirror and you chuckle when you feel him tap his cock a few times against your entrance, after he pulls out.

“You’re already leaking.”

“Oh, no!” Your voice drips with sarcasm, and suddenly you’re being lifted up and turned around.

“Still running that mouth of yours?” There’s a touch of amused disbelief in his voice when he asks that, and you giggle against his lips before you kiss him.

“Maybe you should put something in it to fill it up,” you tease.

He does put something into you to fill you up, then. Just, it’s not in your mouth. The three middle fingers of his right hand breach your entrance―they make you gasp―effectively stopping his cum from dripping down your legs even more and to the floor.

“That can be arranged,” he smirks, satisfied by your reaction.

He walks you back into the room like that, three fingers up your cunt and his tongue in your mouth, his lips against yours.

“That porn performance―” comes a voice as soon as you make it out of the bathroom― “for free? Damn, you’re nasty!”

If looks could kill, Sergei’s would have Vladimir dead and buried already.

“What are you doing here?” You don’t know why, but Sergei’s Russian makes you flutter around his fingers. Your reaction earns you a glance from him, and then he moves his fingers in a beckoning motion a couple of times.

There’s no holding back the moan that rips up your throat, it doesn’t even matter that Vladimir has a first-row ticket for the view of your ass, the drops of sticky white semen that dripped down your inner thigh no more than two minutes ago; hell, even that of his best buddy’s fingers nestled deep in your heat!

Your hands give Sergei’s biceps a squeeze, and then out of your lips comes the gentle call for, “Serzh.”

“Came to fetch you for lunch, stayed for the show.” You don’t need to turn around to be able to envision Vladimir’s shit-eating grin. “Hurry up getting dressed, we’re already late.”

You get seated right opposite Homer at the dining table. Try as you might, however, you can’t refrain from squirming in your seat. His gaze is fixed on you, and it doesn’t take a genius to guess he’s also been an indirect witness to your escapade in the bathroom of his guest room. Not that you owe him an explanation about anything, but still…

Whether it pissed him off or he found it amusing, though, he doesn’t bring it up. He says absolutely nothing on the topic, and luckily so. You’re not sure you’d be able to keep in the fact that you’re dripping someone’s cum in your by-now ruined panties anymore otherwise.

If anything, your meal goes on smoothly, which means that the discomfort is only yours to bear. Maybe you’ll pull on Vladimir’s ears for not calling you as soon as he walked into your bedroom. Maybe the ground will open up like a hungry mouth and swallow you before you can be done with your tomato salad.

You don’t even follow the conversation the men are having until Vlad says something odd. Your hospitality feels like being home, in Russia―which, for as long as you can remember, has always been code for guys, shit’s about to hit the fan.

You can semi-freely talk about it only a few hours later, when you’re granted permission to take a walk into town, posing as semi-normal tourists.

Vladimir keeps his comments about you and Sergei going at it like rabbits for himself. Instead, he picks an ice cream place in the noisiest part of town and drops down a plastic chair with a lemon-strawberry cup in his hand.

It’s good to see him do so much better already after a check-up and IVs, but it’s a bit unsettling that he’s also picked up on the weird air at Homer’s estate.

“We gotta leave as soon as possible,” he says in Russian, unhurried, even if you can almost see the cogs turn in his head. “I got in touch with the cousin of one of the guys,” he doesn’t say which, however. Does he feel stalked?

You look around, trying to be as inconspicuous as possible, mentally registering all the faces you manage to lay your gaze on as you eat your own ice cream. Sergei catches your eye and when you tiredly smile at him, he gives your knee a squeeze.

He hasn’t managed to tell you anything about that night, yet.

“He’ll make us disappear in Costa Rica,” he continues, leaning closer across the table and lowering his voice. “We’ll continue from there.”

“You sure we can trust him?” That question is out of your mouth before you can rein it in. After all, Homer was supposed to be a trusted man as well―not that he’s explicitly done anything against any of you (if his flirting doesn’t count), but there’s still something unexplainably off when he’s around.

Someone at the edge of the plaza catches your eye then. It’s a man you have never seen, but he’s staring right at you. During this trip your paranoia has been proved well-justified so far, so you don’t dismiss it this time: you lean across the table with the flirtiest smile you can muster for a man who’s not the one you love and you steal some of Vladimir’s ice cream with your own plastic spoon. At the same time, so close to his face you could even count the freckles on the bridge of his nose if you wanted, you quickly glance to the side without moving your head an inch.

Far from being stupid, Vladimir picks up the message immediately and pretends to be flirting back. “You’d better give me a repeat of your show tomorrow,” he says in the end, wincing a bit when he sits back against his chair. “Maybe we can have a three-way on the beach after dark.”

Luckily, Sergei plays along.

In your mind, ‘tomorrow’ echoes a thousand times. How did he manage to organize another escape so quickly when he had had a whole foot in his grave this morning?

You hope this time, your escape will end well.

Quickly enough, the topic of conversation changes and it’s just two friends talking normally with each other.

You? You keep pretending you’re watching everything around you through the eyes of a tourist. Instead, you see how the guy you spotted earlier is still there, looking in your direction from above the newspaper in his hands. A young couple has been on a video call since you sat down, and their phone seems to be tilted more in your direction and it is theirs. A bunch of kids, who had been playing football on the other side of the fountain when you got your ice creams, have moved closer; they’re not clamoring as much anymore, either.

You hope it’s just your paranoia. But you do spot a guy with an in-ear device at the entrance to the square, on the far left.

And if it’s not paranoia, is it Homer? Is it the people from Hell’s Kitchen?

That night the house is dead silent and in spite of it, you still struggle to fall asleep. Your brain mulls over a billion things at once. Homer. Your escape trip from New York. The people you left behind under the rubbish. The guy that’s apparently taking you to Costa Rica. Homer’s gaze everywhere on your body, making you squirm in discomfort at being ogled so openly, so disrespectfully.

Sergei’s lightly snoring next to you when you turn around. For a moment, you contemplate waking him up―maybe he can help you fall asleep―but you eventually decide not to. Running away has been exhausting for you; with his injuries and what he must have been through, he must have been hit even harder. He should probably get as much sleep as he can now that things are relatively quiet.

You turn around as slowly as possible, trying to slip out from under Sergei’s arm without waking him up.

When you get out of bed, you pick up your burner phone as you go. There are no new messages, no missed calls. It doesn’t surprise you.

[1:07 AM] you: you awake?

It takes him a few minutes to answer, but you’re glad he’s there, battling with insomnia on the other side of the hallway just as you. When it’s messages in a row.

[1:11 AM] V: yeah

[1:11 AM] V: why?

[1:11 AM] V: something happened?

You smile: you’re not the only paranoid bitch apparently.

[1:12 AM] you: everythings fine. cant sleep.

[1:12 AM] V: He’d bite my head off if the dicking down came from me. Sorry doll.

You glance at Sergei from where you’re sitting on the floor, but your snort doesn’t seem to have disturbed his sleep.

Vladimir, that sly motherfucker. He knows Sergei would tear his dick off even just for the fact that he’s thought of his woman. This morning was just an accident, so to speak, but there’s not a ‘second chance’ in your lover’s vocabulary, at least not in this field.

[1:15 AM] V: What? You considering it? ;)

Your uneven breathing is the only sign you’re doing your best to keep the laughter from spilling out of your lips.

[1:16 AM] you: you wish bby :*

“Milaya?” When you look up, Sergei’s rubbing his eyes, blearily looking at you after switching the bedside table lamp on. “What’re you doing there?”

The gruff in his voice shouldn’t rub you the way it does. You’re reminded of the first stage of your relationship, when you worked off hours and often came back home in the middle of the night. He’d demand you wake him up, and then he’d fuck you to sleep, his rough voice whispering obscenities in your ear or into the skin of your neck, your chest―even your inner thighs, if you still had the energy to let him eat you out before you clocked out for the night.

“Couldn’t sleep,” you reply. It’s no surprise that your knees buckle when you stand up and make your way to bed, your mind so deep in the gutter.

He eyes the phone in your hands. “Everything okay?”

You hum and slide into his open arms. The way his head nuzzled your chest makes you chuckle and your fingers comb through his short hair.

“Yeah. Vova can’t sleep either.”

When you look down at him, he’s pouting. “You were texting my best friend? You could’ve talked to me…” He might be dangerous when it comes to other people, but it’s mainly playful banter when it comes to Vladimir, you’re sure. Had you wanted him, you would have already made him yours. The dude hasn’t posed a danger for years now.

“I wanted to let you rest,” you reply, but Sergei’s hands are already starting to wander, and they distract you for a heartbeat or two. “After Hell’s Kitchen… You just haven’t been sleeping well.”

He scoffs in amusement, but the way he kisses your lips right after tells you he’s so very grateful―lucky, as he always says―to have you.

“That’s just because I didn’t have a chance to fuck you,” he smirks, his words crude. They hang heavy in the space between your lips, and heavy is the hand on your hipbone now that he’s hovering over you. “Can I do it?”

You can’t deny him, not when he looks at you like that―like you’re the goddess he worships―and not when hunger is already starting to simmer in your womb. So, you entertain him.

“Do what?”

“Do you.”

You laugh, breathless.

“C’mon, just let me get my dick wet. It’ll help you fall asleep so fast.”

“Oh my god,” you breathe out, still smiling. You bend your legs at the knees to trap him between them. It’s a blessing, the fact that you went to bed just wearing a t-shirt because you can feel the warmth of his erection against you through your panties. “You really can’t be romantic even just for a minute!”

He nuzzles the crook of your neck, kisses where your marked skin still feels tender and loved. He comes down on his elbows, and all of you is pressed against all of him. It’s the most comforting weight there is.

“Let me make love to you,” he corrects himself, rutting against you once. “Let me make you feel safe.”

A kiss to your lips, then his tongue comes out to lick at you once before you give him access. It goes on and on, the kiss; it lengthens until you have to pull away for air.

“Let me be on top.” You don’t even need to beg: he turns onto his back and pulls you with himself until you’re straddling his lower abdomen.

“No prep?” he wonders, surprised laced through his voice.

You shake your head. “’m wet enough already with the way you run your stupid mouth.”

He grins.

You make quick work of his boxers, pulling them down just enough to whip his cock out. The tip is already reddened and leaking pre-cum. You smirk, look at him, then look back. You wonder how he always manages to work himself up so quickly, but then you realize he has the same effect on you―you’re dripping when you pull your panties to the side―so you don’t ask.

The way he lets himself go into a single, long groan as you slowly slide down on his cock gives you a full-body shudder. Your hands bunch his t-shirt in your fingers and your eyes almost cross. When you finally sit down on him, his erection buried inside you to the hilt, the air slips past your lips in a quivering breath.

“Fuck, feels so good,” you whisper, leaning forward until you’re lying fully on him. “You feel so good.” The stretch is delicious, and you feel how your walls flutter to make room for the size of him.

“Always such a snug fit.” His hands grab your hips, and he thrusts into you once, then once more. Two orgasms each this morning clearly weren’t enough, but tonight you stop him.

“Don’t more, let me feel you like this.”

He doesn’t complain, not even when you both already know cockwarming isn’t his forte.

“Tell me about Hell’s Kitchen. The fuck happened?”

“Now?!” he gasps, making you look at him. “While my dick’s in your pussy?”

“As good a time as any. I’ll fall asleep after. I figured it’d be easier for you than being in my mouth.”

A sigh.

It’s silent for a while, and then the dam opens. He tells you as much as he knows. Which, admittedly, isn’t much. Or he’s trying not to burden you too much.

You wish he’d lean on you, share his pain so that you can be each other’s crutch.

He tells you about the masked mudak, the one that’s been messing with them and their business for months. Fisk and his schemes. Then the bombing at the garage―his fingers dig harder into your flesh when he talks about that―the explosion, the smell, the blood when he had tried to pull Grisha out of the ruins. He was coughing up so much blood already, the poor kid, and Sergei had to look the other way when he gave in to his plea to be shot and taken out of his misery. He had been a breathing corpse, mutilated by the fallen ruins―bricks and poles and sin.

Sergei doesn’t tell you that, though. He doesn’t paint a picture.

It’s already a miracle he manages to get to the end of his recall with a still-hard cock. His arms hold you close, and you feel the way his chest constricts.

You try not to grumble. Just a couple of weeks ago Grisha had come to you asking for advice―there was this girl, prettier than the sun and moon combined, and he wanted to do all the right things to ask her out. You wonder if he did. If he followed your advice. Or had he still been waiting for his chance when his world went off?

You don’t speak for a moment, simply listening to the changing rhythm of his heart. Then, you apologize for pressing him into giving you an explanation, and you kiss him until he forgets all those bad things for the time being.

That night you make love to him, try to ease the nightmares and the bad memories plaguing his mind. When tears start trickling down the sides of his face, his eyes closed, you hold onto him a little tighter, a little closer, and you fall asleep still connected with each other.

If you could shield him from what happened, shift its weight onto your shoulder, you would.

The day after, you stay out late for dinner. Vladimir came up with some bullshit excuse about him wanting to celebrate life with you and Sergei, and Homer let him go.

Did the guy also send someone else after you? You have no clue, and frankly, you don’t even look around to try and spot his goons. You’ve mainly been picking at your food with your fork all day. Sergei managed to sleep like a baby―of which you’re proud―but your mind has been stuck on the memory of Grisha in your living room, pacing back and forth while he spilled his heart out. How he hadn’t wanted to go to the guys because he just knew they’d tease him to no end. How he didn’t know what to do―his parents had been the worst example to follow in just about any field of life, and he didn’t know what to do. Sergei’s woman is the nicest person on Earth, someone had told him, so he had come to your apartment when he knew Sergei was out with the guys.

You think about how he had just been nineteen; he would have turned twenty on Christmas day; you had already planned to invite him over for a few days so that he wouldn’t have had to be alone―your heart squeezes in on itself, and you sigh.

“It’s all gonna be over soon, Doll,” Vladimir smiles, patting your hand on the table with his bandaged one.

You look at him. The dark circles under his eyes. The bruises on his face. His split lip. You know there’s much more underneath his clothes that you can’t see right now―but that you have seen too many times whenever you stopped to clean his wounds in the car. He looks like he’s aged ten years in the last almost ten days, and like he’s lost ten more. A shell of his old self―no brother, no freedom, no business―a bird-dog trying his best to reach a place where no one knows his name, or his face.

Sergei also looks like the vocabulary definition of exhaustion. One day of relative freedom―yesterday―was enough to deplete his reserve of energy. Now all he wants to do is escape. And forget.

You smile. For their sake, you tell yourself. Be their crutch like they’ve been yours.

“Is it going well?” you ask, turning your hand around so that you can hold the one Vladimir still has on yours.

He hasn’t told neither you nor Sergei his plan, and neither of you has asked. You figured the less people knew about it, the more chances you’d have to make it.

He nods. He’s the only one whose stomach isn’t knotted up. Is it because he was mostly passed out during your first escape? You guess that could be the answer.

There aren’t many patrons left when a group of men walks in. It’s hard not to spot them; they stick out like black birds among the colors of the restaurant.

Are they Homer’s?

They spot you. You see the way the look in their eyes changes when their (apparent) leader’s gaze locks with yours. You’re the only one facing them, Sergei and Vladimir sitting at the other side of the table.

They walk closer. They’re seven tables away.

Six.

Three.

Your hand wraps tightly around your knife.

Two.

The man in the front smiles. It reaches his eyes. You think he’s going to flirt with you, cause a scene, create chaos.

“You must be Sergei’s woman,” he says when he and his men sit at the table behind you.

It takes you a moment for your brain to realize he’s spoken Russian. You’ve never been more relieved to hear a language before in your life.

Was Vlad waiting for your escorts? Is that why he insisted on staying that long?

You breathe out in relief and when you look at your companions, they’re both grinning. Sergei gives you a nod of his head, his foot teasing yours under the table in reassurance.

“We met some dogs,” says the man behind you. You don’t dare turn around. “We sorted them out, but their owner might come looking.”

Things move quickly after that. Your heart hammers in your chest with the same strength as the night Sergei woke you up in the middle of the night, but this time it’s not out of fear. There’s excitement scorching through your veins, and adrenaline is probably already kicking in.

You’re out of the restaurant, your hand securely wrapped in Sergei’s. Vladimir is in front of you; the men his friend sent are all around. It’s like being a celebrity, even when you’re not.

It goes to your head.

Your heart beats so hard it hurts. It seems to pulse in your eardrums, and there’s a restlessness everywhere in your body―your fingers, your arms, your legs. It’s like your body wants to run, desperately, and yet it’s stuck at a much slower rhythm.

You meet Sergei’s gaze. He gives your hand a squeeze, mouths an I love you, and you think you want to marry him. Right here, right now. You want to take his face in your hands and kiss the living daylights out of him.

Your head hurts.

It’s sort of exhilarating, in a way you didn’t predict.

You’re on a boat. Then a much bigger one.

The men’s leader and two others are in the helicopter with you, Vladimir, and Sergei. You have no idea how you even got on it.

Your head hurts.

They move you a lot in Costa Rica. You never spend more than one night in the same place. As it turns out, his friends are trusty, this time. You’re introduced to Andrei’s cousin, the one Vladimir has mentioned, and you have to witness the way his soul cracks behind the look in his eyes when he’s told the news.

Danger still feels really close, but just like your escape from Cuba, it’s fucking exhilarating. A whirlwind you can barely keep up with.

You have some of the best sex of your life―it’s the only thing that helps burn out that extra energy making you restless. You think Vladimir is never going to let you and Sergei live it down. You promise him he can sit and watch if he wants, and maybe one night he does, in the armchair by the window of your temporary room, and you enjoy the way he looks at you while Sergei fucks you from behind.

When you reach Romania, the home of some more friends of Vladimir’s (you wonder how he even manages to have so many when he can be such an annoying ass), you’re all positively exhausted. It’s been three weeks since leaving Hell’s Kitchen behind, but it feels like much longer than that. Three years, or maybe three lifetimes.

You don’t have many memories from Cuba; you didn’t have the time to form any, after all. Homer and his flowers, the shower, that ice cream in the sunny plaza. Costa Rica is a whole other story; when you think about it, there’s still phantom soreness between your legs and Vladimir’s taste still tingles your tongue, that one time Sergei miraculously agreed to let you suck him off.

Life in Romania, by the Moldovan border, is nice and quiet, and there’s not much to do in the countryside you’re sent to for your own protection. You enjoy the walks―at dawn, at sunset, in the midday sun.

Skinny dipping with Sergei after dinner quickly becomes your favorite activity. He’s so real and solid in this life that now feels like such an illusion. You let him love you, and he lets you love him, too. There’s not a place around the house where you haven’t touched each other, kissed, hugged.

You start to pick up the language and around the four-month mark in the country, you feel like it’s finally starting to click. You find a part-time job, Serzh does, too. It keeps you busy―away from the frenzy of New York City, and away from the dreadful stillness of a life so out of your routine all of a sudden.

Sergei puts a ring around your finger one night, as you’re lying in bed, the smell of sex still lingering in the air even despite the open window. He says marriage is just a formality, but he definitely can go down that route if you want. He’s still going to spend the rest of his life by your side regardless.

You think you could give him anything he wants. Could and would, no ifs and no buts.

Vladimir turns restless, however. He seems to slowly sink, like a stone not dense and not heavy enough to immediately reach the bed of the river. He feels stuck, and you see the way he can’t seem to be able to go on. The exhilaration of your escape has left his system―much more slowly than the adrenaline did, but you see he’s running on reserve now.

You think you’re losing a piece of him each day that passes.

You’re stuck in the indecision of what to do. If you bring up old memories, the scars on his body start bleeding again. If you shut them down, the black hole in his chest grows and eats away at him right before your eyes.

Revenge starts being brought up. It’s always late at night, when he’s had a bit too much to drink. He brings up Anatoly as you and Sergei watch on, unable to do anything. He brings up his brother and the way he was murdered. Brings up Fisk, Gao, Nobu, the masked mudak. He burns with the intensity of a sun, and the bitter cold of outer space.

You fear losing him to his demons. Sergei doesn’t know how to bridle him anymore.

One night, he starts crying. He’s had a glass too many―a bottle too many―and you find yourself sitting in the garden, the warm July breeze contributing to the scorching heat of his skin. He’s feverish―he has been for a couple of days now.

Sergei’s smoking a few meters away, eyes trained on the night sky as he stands barefoot on the grass, wearing nothing but an old pair of knee-length pants. You see the way his jaw clenches in the moonlight, and you know he’s close to tears as well.

It scares you shitless.

Vladimir allows you to hold him in your arms, his face hidden in the crook of your neck, wetting you with his tears and his saliva, where he cries broken sobs into the skin of your shoulder.

Maybe it’s always been just a matter of time before what happened in Hell’s Kitchen caught up with him.

Maybe it’s also just a matter of time before this wave of destruction slows down to a halt. You hope maybe next summer, he won’t be drinking this much. By the summer after that, he’ll be able to hang mirrors in the house without shattering them. By the three-year mark, he’ll be sprouting in the spring and thriving in the summer.

Sergei turns around and finds you already staring at him. On his lips stretches the small, sad smile that mirrors your own. You think you see gratitude in his eyes before he goes inside to fetch a blanket. He wraps Vladimir up like a child and drags him inside.

That night you both lie on the floor of Vladimir’s room, as still as statues, listening closely to the way he breathes while he sleeps.

“Is he gonna be alright?” Sergei whispers, dread in his eyes as he looks at you for an answer, like you’re a deity that can see the future.

You trace the lines of his face, his lips. You kiss him lightly, even despite the smell of smoke that’s left behind from earlier. “Eventually,” you promise―a lie, but also a hope.

You don’t tell Sergei, but you think Vladimir is still on the run. You can only hope he will slow down, stop, look around, see he’s safe, still alive, and that his demons haven’t followed him into his physical reality.

Bye, thank you for reading my fic. 💌

#sergei daredevil #sergei daredevil x reader #daredevil imagine #reader insert #angelaiswriting

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