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lilac-5ky · 7 months

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Roommates from Hell, pt.8 (Toji x Fem!Reader)

Chapter 8: Nine to Five

Chapter 7 | Story Masterlist | Masterlist | Requests | AO3

A/N: Don't come at me for the ending :)

Warning: fem. masturbation, sex toys, and mentions of explicit sexual content, MDNI!

“Again, thanks for everything, Shiu. Can’t even imagine what we would’ve done without you. No money, no car—”

“Don’t worry about it.” A loud chortle rumbled against the man’s chest as heavy smoke wafted from the cigarette dangling between his teeth. “Wouldn’t pass up the chance to see this failed Casanova humiliate himself for the world.”

Your exchange was cut short as Toji forced his way into the apartment, mumbling curses under his breath. You hadn’t made sense of a word he’d said since he gave into your pleas for calling for help (No way in hell we are hijacking a car, Toji!), refusing to acknowledge his friend’s kindness in the same hopeless way he refused to acknowledge their friendship.

You wondered what it was like between them when you weren’t around to calm the spirits. Neither screamed “chatty” exactly, and pulling words out of their mouths was slightly less excruciating than plucking out a wisdom tooth with pliers. Aside from work, they seemed to have little in common. Shiu’s pride and joy was his extensive collection of tropical fish, while Toji only knew the grilled mackerel you served with his rice every morning.

“You should stop by for dinner sometime. I’m sure Toji would—”

“He wouldn’t.” A gruff voice rang from a distance that defied an ordinary human’s hearing range.

You experienced all the embarrassment that came with excusing a difficult child’s behavior. But Shiu was understanding. After all, he and Toji went back even longer than you did.

“Make sure that idiot’s ready at 8. And tell him this is borrowed, not kept.” You received the garment bag from his hands and gently folded it over your arm. “Pulled enough strings to land him that job. He screws up; he’s on his own.”

You nodded, your curiosity beating him to the elevator. “What kind of job is it?”

“Zen’in didn’t tell you?” Shiu shook his head in amusement. “‘course he didn’t.” He flicked the cigarette butt and stubbed it with his sole, therefore mocking the no smoking sign on the concrete wall behind him.

“Look, don’t want any part in your sappy love story, but cut him some slack. That prideful bastard wouldn’t bow that stubborn head of his ‘less it was chopped off its place—you know how he is—yet he practically begged me to find his ass something respectful.”

Begged…?

“Point is, you don’t get into those companies without a bunch of glorified parchment, and a hit list doesn’t count as CV. He’ll have to work his way outta the mail room. He soaks up experience, and maybe he cracks it to sales. Just make sure he actually goes. Pay’s good, perks even better. Feel free to start pumping out kids.”

“You wouldn’t know why he needed the job, right?”

A cryptic smile accompanied him into the lift. Without answering, he reached for the crumpled Lucky Strike pack in his jacket’s inner pocket and pressed the button to the garage. The only times you saw him without a cigarette was in the short interval between his switching from a burnt-out to a new one.

“Eight sharp. Not a minute later.” He warned as he leaned back against the railing, fumbling with an unresponsive lighter. “Fucking ‘ell.”

You held the bag to your chest, practiced a small bow, and sincerely thanked him for all those years he took good care of Toji.

“Dinner offer’s still on! I can do Korean—how’s dakgalbi with lots of cheese sound?”

“Can’t believe how hard that bastard lucked out.”

The doors began to close before you could make out what he said, the final rings of smoke dispersing with his departure.

A trail of misplaced dirty laundry welcomed you into the apartment; slippers flipped and sweatpants scattered, with black boxers strewn outside the bathroom door like a doormat. You scrutinized the dried precum stain on the latter with near scientific interest, not being in any real hurry to stow them away until the water flow that streamed from the shower head dramatically decreased.

Shit, shit, fuck!

Sprinting across the hall, you dunked the clothes into the basket in time for Toji’s grand entrance with nothing but a towel his thumb and forefinger kept clipped low around his hip. Steam rolled in spirals from each contoured muscle that adorned his scarred skin, a light red coloring him from head to toe.

“That jackass left?”

You tried to block out the sensual slink of his hips as he strode to your shared wardrobe, focusing instead on the countless smudges that dressed your mirror. Still in view, he fished out a clean pair of boxers—one that he had no qualms changing into, the curve of his ass distinct as the fuzzy towel pooled around his feet.

“He—um.” Droplets of water rained from long obsidian strands while he shook off the excess moisture, the reflection of his jade eyes narrowing at the lack of follow-up. “What did you ask again?”

The sweet and spicy notes of a deodorant that could only be new took you by surprise as Toji towered over you with a shit-eating grin plastered on his face. “I asked, when did ya turn into such a perv?”

You deserved that.

“Like what you see?” His tone was more inquisitive than condescending, like your answer actually mattered to him.

Even after an entire night of touching each other, you doubted you could ever get used to being with someone whose body fit both the requirements of a marbled statue and an action movie star. You felt stupidly giddy, longing to squeeze your head between his pecs and lick him up like an overly affectionate pup who knew neither shame nor boundaries.

Admitting to it was a different thing.

“You should let me cut your hair.” You begrudgingly looked up. Not that his face didn’t bring out the same primal instincts. “People will think you descended from the mountains.”

“Didn’t ask about people. Only care about you.”

Fuck it.

“You turn me on.”

“Yeah?” His voice turned into a low purr, hooded eyes locked with yours up until your lips connected.

The pleasant warmth of his fingertips as they tipped your chin clashed with the cold, damp hair that tickled your cheeks. It went both ways. He showed you when he pushed your hands from the hard ridges of his stomach to the harder erection his underwear packed, firmly cupping your smaller palms against it.

“Wanna be inside you so badly.” Toji murmured, nipping at your bottom lip while you rubbed at his bulge, long strokes earning you little sighs of satisfaction. “Feel you wrap around me. The things I want to do to you—fuck.”

Wetness leaked from his slit, ruining yet another pair of underwear. He was so achingly sensitive, his balls twitching for the sweet release that would either quench or worsen his thirst.

Eight sharp. Not a minute later.

“You are gonna hate me.” Your palms traveled up his chest, mostly failing to put distance between your mouth and his, as he snaked his arms around your waist and pulled your bodies together.

“Could never hate you.”

“Never?”

His tongue broke free from the kiss. He didn’t like the sound of that. “What did ya do?”

“Nothing!” You reassured him with a nervous smile, pecking his lips. “It’s just—it’s 7:30, you know?”

“Good. And I thought the telemarketing watch I ordered was lost in the mail.”

“Shut up!” You chuckled. “Shiu said I should have you ready by 8.”

“Don’t give a damn what he said.” Toji went back to littering your skin with kisses, starting from your cheek and slowly expanding to your neck. He tugged your shirt off your shoulder with his teeth, sturdy hips bucking against your flimsy shorts. “I can do with twenty minutes. No foreplay.”

“Toji—”

“Fifteen minutes.” His palm squeezed around your breast, wet tongue flicking right behind your earlobe. “Just bend over f’me and I’ll take care of the rest. Fuck you full with my cum.”

“Oh my god, Toji.” Your breath stuttered in your throat, your panties clinging to your slit as if you’d been standing under rain.

“Yeah? You’d like that?” He mouthed at your neck, sucking at least three more marks you had no way of concealing unless you scarfed up. “Ready to see what ten years of wanting to pound that pussy feels like?”

He practically begged me to find his ass something respectful.

He screws up; he’s on his own.

“Toji…”

His affections ran out at the same time his mood spoiled, forehead resigning against your shoulder. He knew what his name in that tone meant, and he hated it—more than you hated yourself for denying him.

“Y’are fucking killing me,” was the last thing he said before hopping into your bed, springs creaking beneath his weight. “Tell him I ain’t goin’.”

Of course he hadn’t bothered drying off, and of course your sheets soaked up the water from his body like a sponge. He buried his head in your pillow and stretched his limbs across the mattress. No sound. No movement. Like a corpse washed to the shore. He did say you killed him.

Such a baby.

You padded toward the bed and took a seat beside him, running your fingers through his choppy hair. He didn’t react. Not at first. You assumed this was him being pouty, but then you recalled all he had to deal with in the last 48 hours and felt incredibly sorry for him. Heading to work without a wink of sleep was the final nail in the coffin.

“What are you doing?” Green eyes blinked behind a veil of black as you brought the towel to his nape and gently wrung the lower tufts.

“You’ll get a crick in the neck if you nap with water in your hair.”

“Not trynna convince me to go?”

“Why would I? You said you’re not going and that’s it.”

Toji sat up against the headboard, the look on his face one of disbelief.

“I’m happy supporting you.” The bed dipped as you resumed your handiwork, brushing a strand away from his creased forehead. “It’s like having my very own kept man. Makes me feel rich.” You smiled.

He didn’t return it. But he did sigh. “We need money. Y’always whine about that.”

“You won’t hear me whine again. Besides, my schedule is too light. I can always ask that old man for a few extra shifts.” That was a lie. You bordered on exceeding the legal limit of working hours per week.

“And you’re fine with that.” He stated rather than asked, and when you didn’t reply, he simply rolled to the other side of the bed. “Fucking liar.”

“What happened to you not hating me?”

“I don’t. My balls do. They wanna smack your pussy.”

“You’re so damn vulgar!”

You still giggled as you nestled in the little pillow space he’d left, arm draped over his waist and fingers finding purchase somewhere between his abs. You kissed down his shoulders, closing your eyes and inhaling deeply into the scent laced through the pores of his skin. He’d gone a bit overboard with the quantity, but that wasn’t unheard of from someone who only used fragrance-free toiletries.

Still, it suited him.

“Said the tease.” He contemplated peeling your hand off him but decided against it when he felt you moving lower. Way lower than he thought you would without his guidance.

“Who said I’m teasing?” Your fingers dipped into the waistband of his underwear, feeling out the smoothness of skin and the coarseness of hair above the sole unexplored part of his body. “I want you, Toji. Not what you bring or don’t bring to the table. Just you. God, you’d probably laugh your ass off if you knew how much I actually want you.”

Tears prickled your eyes, swelling as emotion in your heart. Being this sincere scared you, especially with how rapidly your relationship was escalating. Ten years was a long time, and two days felt awfully short to recuperate all that was lost—to shake the image of his footprints slowly fading into snow eight years ago.

A hand closed around yours, thick fingers delicately squeezing between your knuckles, wary of the fresh nicks they donned. “I wouldn’t.”

“How can you be so sure?” Your voice a frail whisper made of glass. “I mean—”

“Because I want you more, dummy.”

“Didn’t realize this was a competition.”

“It is now.” Toji pulled your hand away from his body and pinned it to the mattress, his other arm crossing over your shoulders as he gently rolled you below him. “And I won.”

He gazed down at your face, all flustered with glassy eyes that fluctuated between overwhelming lust and unspoken worry. You think too much. You worry too much. You feel too much. He wanted to accuse you of every single one of those crimes but couldn’t find the words to do so, because he liked that about you.

He liked how your hands trembled with need when they touched him, how your voice broke like it couldn’t bear the weight of its words, how vulnerable and small you looked in his arms—but most of all, he liked what you breathed into him, what your puny fingers sculpted his soul into. Because he only ever liked himself when he was with you, and that was exactly why he wanted to offer you more than a tattered old shirt with rips around the seams.

“How much time?”

“Huh?” You gaped.

His scar twisted into a smirk as he lowered his face to yours—a crooked grin once you closed your eyes and puckered your lips in expectancy of his. So much more. He pressed down against your mouth, tugging at your bottom lip until his thumb slipped in and you gave his nail a firm, albeit painless, bite.

“Better not do that when my dick goes in there.” He tsked.

Immediately, you coughed out his finger along with an aggravated “Toji!”

“There she is,” the man in question chuckled. “Nearly had me fooled.”

You scoffed, part of you grateful that the tension between you was resolved, but not the part that showed. “If you must know, I spoke from my heart’s depths.” Your fist moved to your beating chest.

“Mhm, bet ya did.” Toji helped himself to a kiss, chaste enough for his tongue to remain in his mouth. “Sly wench.”

“Wench?” You raised an eyebrow.

“Prefer bitch?” He retorted.

“Wench is fine.”

The way his shoulder blades rolled while he was hunched above you had you sidetracking from the clock that ticked away your time. You figured he’d be an excellent salesman—supposing he made it to that point—because you were sold on staying there with him, spinning your entrapment by his bulky physique into the perfect excuse to play hooky. Sakurai would understand. Hopefully.

“Five. Lemme hold you for five minutes, and then y’are free to frill me up.”

You were the one who was now “killed,” and yet you accepted your death with grace as your positions were switched. Toji collapsed beside you, squeezing your clothed breasts against his naked chest (remorse for not ridding you of your shirt first) while you huddled together, legs tangled, and mouths inched too close not to meld into one.

For someone who claimed to do only what he wanted to, he succumbed to your will an awful lot.

“What’d you want a sly wench for?” You muttered, playing with the hair that hung low over his neck. “Regular wenches out of stock or something?”

“That eager to find out?” He drawled, both his voice and eyelids weighed down by exhaust. “I’ll show ya when I get back from work; everything a sly wench’s good for.”

“Sounds like quite the ordeal.”

“You’re a big girl. ‘m sure you can take it, and if not—well,” he ran his tongue along your lips. “No reason to talk about what ifs. You’ll be good for me, mm?”

“Depends on whether you actually put on the suit Shiu brought.”

“Women and your suits.”

“You said—”

“Yeah, yeah, I know what I said.” Toji scoffed, one of his hands sneaking under your shirt. “You’ll make it up to me.” He decided.

“I told you, you can just not go.” You objected.

“Oh, really? And ya would’ve let me stay home without breaking my balls?” He let a beat pass and added, “Thought so.”

“What would thine royal ass favor?” You humored him with a fake, posh accent.

“I’m easy to please.” You held back a snort. “You’re gonna lemme doll you up with however many or few clothes I want. Fair?”

“Is that all? Doesn’t sound too bad—”

“And then,” he continued, his smirk as sharp as the teeth behind it, “you’ll lemme strip ya. Nice and simple, huh?”

“Your five minutes are running out!”

While Toji was off brawling with a pair of cufflinks, you relocated to the kitchen and brewed two cups of coffee, figuring he could do with a sip before heading out.

A pink sticky note awaited you on the counter, your sister’s messy handwriting begging you to call her as soon as your windpipe reopened—whatever that was supposed to mean. You crumpled it and tossed it in the trash, resuming your coffee-making duties. She wanted details you had no intention of discussing, especially when you didn’t even know what to call him anymore. You felt like no word was descriptive enough of your current status.

“Whatcha thinking about?” A hand snatched the spare cup from your grasp, scarred lips rounding around the searing rim.

You turned around to a Toji you’d never seen before. Surely, his thin eyebrows were drawn together in the exact same scowl he wore when you first showed him the black slim-fit suit of Shiu’s choice. His hair was still damp, sticking to his forehead in wet tufts. The rest of his body was also physically there, boxed inside the narrow lapels and shoulder bite of his jacket—but that was where the similarities ended.

The difference between the Toji you left in your bedroom a mere ten minutes ago and the sharply dressed man in front of you was that you didn’t feel the need to pay a ticket simply for the honor of staring at the former.

“Just admiring how handsome you look.” You straightened out the creases on his lapels.

“Yeah right.” Toji rolled his eyes, continuing to swig coffee. “Just saying that to get into my pants.”

“Please, if I wanted to get into your pants, all I’d have to do is ask.” You wiped his chin before the liquid got to drip down his collar, sparing him an earful.

“At this point, you wouldn’t need to ask.” He glanced down at his suffocating thighs, the seams around his crotch threatening to burst at any given time. “This is ridiculous.”

“No, it’s not—”

“Looks like I’m in a damn sausage casing. ‘s too fucking small.”

“You’re just too big.” You smiled sympathetically, not realizing your blunder until that sly smirk you knew and hated (loved) made its reappearance. Oh no.

“Mm, am I?” Toji cooed, his smug tone making your fingers grab at the counter behind your back. “Even for you?”

You bit your lips into a straight line, your eyes following the hand that slotted a blue striped tie in your fist and ordered you to get it over with. He took a step back, allowing you to remove his jacket and loop the fabric once around his collar. That was pretty much the full extent of your tie-tying knowledge.

“Gonna keep staring at it?” He cracked under the pressure of your intense squinting.

“I… don’t know how to do it.” You admitted.

“Didn’t your dad wear one to work?”

“Didn’t yours?” An immediate glare. “Never mind. Forgot the Zen’ins are stuck in Edo period.”

He had nothing to say. The times when he sauntered around his family’s compound in that gloomy garb weren’t as far behind for him to forget they ever happened.

You carefully folded the tie in half and handed it to him. “Just ask Shiu to show you. But here, lemme—”

You fixed whatever minor detail could be fixed, combing his hair with your fingers, plucking out a couple of loose threads, and securing his cufflinks. He didn’t need the jacket. As long as no one gawked at his crotch, he passed as your average overworked thirty-year-old who’s yet to give up on their early retirement dream.

It was 7:58 when you and Toji argued over the few footwear choices in his possession. He settled for the combat boots he sported mostly during the winter, but scoffed once you reminded him you’d have to go shopping in the following days.

It was 7:59 when he lingered about the door frame like a harbinger of bad news who didn’t know how to break them down, eventually lifting a hand and giving your head a rough pat that suited a Pomeranian more than an actual human.

“Don’t miss me too much,” which in his language meant I’ll miss you.

“Remember Home Alone?” He nodded. Then he realized.

“Brat.” And with that, he hurried down the hallway, cussing at himself when his cellphone began ringing before he’d even caught the lift.

Your smile remained on your face as you closed the door and spotted the tie he’d accidentally left beside his mug.

I’ll miss you more.

You underestimated how much you would actually miss him.

Your first day apart was spent with you plugging every drain hole in the house. Toji might’ve told you to forget the incident ever happened, but even a regular centipede was capable of reducing you to tears. Curse or not, you weren’t prepared to confront another of those critters, and if peace of mind came at the cheap price of plastic, then so be it.

You didn’t have the chance to miss him yet.

At work, you kept staring at his vacant booth, wondering whether his workplace had a kitchen or a cafeteria—whether he had enough cash for a meal—and every time you did, you scolded yourself. He was a grown man. He could take care of himself without you babying him.

But you still hoped he’d call.

“You won’t believe what that new girl Noda did today.”

You made it home a little after sundown, Chinese takeout under one armpit and handbag under the other. “You’re gonna love this!” Chuckling, you kicked the door shut and stalked toward the kitchen, dropping both bags on the table with a labored huff. “Three words: vampire repellent fries. How someone mistakes garlic powder for salt is beyond me.”

No response. Weird.

You laid out the containers before casting a glance at the ongoing football match on your TV. A reel played between the first and second halves—mass hysteria from the crows that celebrated over their team’s scoring as opposed to the apathetic mop of tousled black hair that was spilled over your couch, expressing neither cheer nor jeer. Not even his usual grunt of acknowledgment.

“Did you not hear me? I said—”

Your eyes finally caught up with your mouth as you processed Toji’s sleeping form, his dress shirt unbuttoned and dangling from his slacks, with a belt unbuckled but not quite removed.

“To…ji?”

Again, nothing.

So much for a night of passion.

Rather than eating alone in the kitchen, you brought dinner to the couch and sat down beside him, secretly wishing the rich scent of Sichuan pork revived him. You switched to an overplayed romcom that’d otherwise have him barfing, only to find his content expression far more enticing than whatever vow the main couple exchanged.

When you realize you want to spend the rest of your life with somebody, you want the rest of your life to start as soon as possible.

You watched over him as he stirred enough for his head to climb up your lap, a large palm engulfing your hip while he breathed in the bare skin of your thighs. More than once, you thought he was awake and tried to ask him about his day, but a snore was all you got in return, the quiet symphony eventually lulling you to sleep.

The rest of your life started when you met him.

Toji was already gone by the time you woke up, miraculously tucked under the covers of your bed, without an actual clue as to how you ended up there. The food you’d stashed in the fridge was gone with him, and so were your hopes of catching up over breakfast.

Your day was a reprise of the previous one. You drank coffee—alone. You did laundry—alone. You trapped a spider and carried it outside the window—alone. And then you met with your landlady—again, alone.

The house felt empty without his brooding figure leaning over the fridge to hurry you up; without his raspy voice calling you from across the house to fetch him the remote that lay on the coffee table; without his low whistles whenever you bent over to catch something from the bottom drawer. Things that once annoyed you, you’d started to miss.

On impulse, you drew your phone and began typing a message you deleted. He was finally acting responsible, and there you were, all butthurt because you didn’t get to talk to him for one day. Big deal.

You packed your bag and braced yourself for a torturous nine-hour shift at the diner, hanging onto the frail hope that once you closed shop, you’d be free to run to him.

Every kiss, every touch, every hug—every single moment of affection became a gale you rode on, reaching the apartment with your heart in your mouth. Surely enough, his shoes were parked by the front step. A good sign. The dubious smell of charred meat bubbling in a cauldron on the stove—not so much.

Hesitant to analyze the green broth’s origin, you searched for the dish’s chef in the other rooms, finding his remains splayed on your bed. Eyes shut, rumbling snore, and a tight grip around your pillow. The sight tugged at your heartstrings, convincing you that it was best to let him rest it out. You took off your clothes and squeezed in beside him, sleep not coming to you as easily as it did the night before.

You missed your conversations. The snarky remarks he’d have about his colleagues. The glint in his eyes that signaled his attentiveness, regardless of his snorting at everything he thought dumb. His bottled laughter. The suggestion in his tone. You’d never told him, but his voice was your favorite thing about him, and now you missed that too.

“Hope your dreams are worth it,” you mumbled against his shoulder, enveloping yourself in the warmth of his body even when you knew you’d wake up to a fistful of cold sheets.

That night, you missed him the most when he was right there with you.

“Not so fast, mister.”

If the sound of your voice wasn’t enough to stop Toji in his tracks, the Glock 22 aimed at his skull certainly was. He stepped away from the door, hands up in mock surrender, as a smirk carried him to where you stood in the middle of the living room, looking not-so intimidating in the pistachio-colored sleepshirt you’d hastily draped over your body.

“Where did ya find this?” He asked, his voice still groggy from sleep.

“I know you keep a gun taped under the nightstand.” You smiled, planting your fingers away from the trigger. “Busted.”

“Then y’know it ain’t loaded, right?”

“Really?” You thought you could tell by shaking it near your ear, only for Toji to leap forward and clasp your palms between his, directing the muzzle to the ceiling in the blink of an eye. “Thought you said it wasn’t loaded!”

“Hmm, let’s see.” The magazine popped out, empty except for a bullet he stowed in his pocket. “Won’t you look at that!” To your amazement (and horror), he reassembled the gun with a single move and returned it to you, defending himself with a “Shouldn’t trust a word outta your opponent’s mouth.”

“Art of war?” You pinched the grip and hurled it onto the couch. Sometimes you really questioned your decisions.

“More like, quit meddling with stuff you can’t handle. Although, if you threw some handcuffs into the mix,” he walked closer, pulling you onto him by the waist, “I could get behind this.” He kissed your lips and gave your ass a squeeze. “And that. Definitely that.”

Your fingers met behind his neck, heart fluttering in your chest. He smelled so nice. Just the right amount of intoxicating. “You’re all talk.”

“Missed me?” You nodded, unwilling to phrase those words out loud. “Then what’d ya want that gun for? Thought we got a lot friendlier these days.”

“Are we still friends?”

“Why?” His thumb brushed against your cheek. “Any plans to unfriend me?”

“Friends don’t do the things we do.”

“Really good friends do.” Toji insisted, his tongue slipping between your lips as if it never left—as if the past two days didn’t happen.

“Want more?” He tugged at your lip with his teeth. You weren’t sure whether he referred to kissing or something else, but whatever he offered, you wanted more of. “Me too.”

His cheek pressed against yours, burning with the same kind of fever you felt pooling in your stomach. You stayed like that for a good while, basking in the intimacy of an inconvenient hug until you felt bold enough to interrupt it. “If you ever avoid your girlfriend again, she’ll kill you.”

He huffed in your ear, then drew away after piecing a loose strand behind it. “My girlfriend can’t even use a gun.”

“Say it again.”

A grin.

“What part?” He asked coyly.

“You know what part!”

“Can’t even use a gun?” He sneered, holding your wrists as they tried to bat his chest. Your reddened complexion only added to his amusement. “Like being told you’re my girl?”

You didn’t answer him—a bad decision, really. It gave him the freedom to run his mouth on about how there were more things he could call you and a couple of other things you could moan back, sparing the details for the sake of the rising boner in his pants. While the premise excited you, the past two failures were hard to forget.

“And for the record, I wasn’t avoiding you.” Toji peered into your mind. A hand rubbed at the back of his neck, his dress shirt lifting from his slacks. “That place’s hell.”

“That bad? Is it the people, the job itself, or…?”

“Fucking everything.”

You could practically hear a can of worms cracking open; see the litany of complaints unfolding over your feet.

“Getting paid to spit on papers like a damn dog. My ass going sore from being glued to a chair all day long. Food tasting like coal briquettes. Dumb kids trynna strike a conversation every chance they get.”

“You poor thing!” You gasped dramatically. “Don’t tell me they also smile at you!”

His glare betrayed him. “Place’s like a fucking kindergarten.”

“Better zip your dirty mouth in front of the kids, then.”

He frowned, and you laughed, genuinely happy that his coworkers seemed to welcome him—a sight you decided you wanted to see with your own two eyes sooner rather than later.

“I won’t be late.” Toji promised once you’d escorted him to the front door.

Your arms folded in front of your chest. Eyebrows arched. “Right.”

“I mean it.”

“Sure you do.”

A sigh. Poking fun at him was always so much fun.

“What about you?” He abided by his little ritual of leaning against the frame, his stance mirroring yours. Unhurriedly since he’d gotten an early headstart on his day. “‘Today’s your day off.”

That’s a first, you thought. He never asked about your plans.

“Oh, you know me. Pilates at 9; golf course at 12. Might go yachting around 5 if you don’t come back early.” You quipped.

He rolled his eyes. “Stop fucking around.”

You poked his tongue at him, not wanting to admit that today would be ten times lonelier without a distraction, similarly to how you didn’t to spoil the surprise in the making.

Except your expression revealed something that your mouth didn’t.

Turning away from you, Toji began coughing like a cat with hair clogged in its throat, eventually spitting out a round, hairy lump of purple. Disgust was written in every line of your face, fading into recognition once the ball expanded into Wormie. The creature tried to wrap itself around its master, who seemed to have a better idea by offering it to you.

“Here. So you don’t die of boredom.” He explained.

You were skeptical at first, but Wormie robbed you of all options as he skipped to your arms and snuggled his head in the crook of your neck.

You never thought the day would come when you’d be hugging a worm, but the feeling wasn’t half as vile as one might expect. He had the weight of a feather and the scent of whatever bowl of cereal Toji had downed that morning. If you closed your eyes, you could think of him as a giant (exotic) pet.

“Hey there, little guy. Missed me?” You rubbed his back. Or what you thought was his back, anyway.

“Pretty sure he’s just trynna eat you up.”

“Shut up.” You glanced at Wormie’s mouth, just in case. “You’re simply jealous of what we have.”

“Sure.”

Satisfied with the image he left behind, Toji finally opened the door and walked out of the apartment.

“Don’t let that idiot get into trouble.”

“I wasn’t planning to.”

“And I wasn’t talking to you.” He smirked. “Later.”

A moment passed before his comment registered, long enough for the elevator gates to separate his snickering from your dissonant complaints.

“You’re such a lousy boyfriend!”

In the hours that followed, two things became apparent. One, you’d probably make for a decent parent, because when you instructed Wormie to sit quiet on the counter while you cooked a meal for Toji, he did as told without protest, and two, he was the greatest sous chef you could’ve ever asked for.

“Wormie! Pitch me the ladle,” you’d say, and a second later the item would fall in your hands.

Not just that. You could cut away vegetables without walking to the trash whenever the counter became clogged with scraps. Wormie ate up everything you fed him, whether that was onion peels, lettuce butts, or a spoonful of the stewed beef that had him singing toot after toot like a trombone.

Toji was right. It wasn’t as lonely with Wormie around. But he was dead wrong about his pet only obeying him. The second you wiggled those leeks, the little glut switched loyalties.

You wondered whether you could train him to give paw.

Stacking a bunch of Toji’s favorite side dishes inside a lunch box, you phoned the one person who could give you an address. Shiu picked up right away, his tone lax as he accused you guys of having his number on speed dial. You profusely apologized and carried his words to a piece of paper, renewing his dinner invitation with little to no zeal. You were grateful toward Shiu, but all you looked forward to was a weekend alone with Toji.

You hung up the phone and turned to Wormie, gesturing for him to gobble up the tupperware.

“Let’s go see your dad, mm?”

Toji’s workplace turned out to be an impressive thirty-story building on the outskirts of Minato. It belonged to one of the largest telecommunication companies in the country, with an enormous silver plate that bared its three-lettered logotype. Shiu did claim he pulled some strings, but a lobby big enough to double as a landing zone was not what you expected.

The guards at the entrance welcomed you with a curt bow, seemingly undisturbed by the worm that hitched a ride on your shoulders. You remembered what Toji said. The vast majority were incapable of sensing cursed energy around them, and those who did would rather question their sanity than accept the notion that the folktales their grandmothers fed them were real.

You gave Toji’s name to one of the girls at the front desk, who in turn asked her colleagues, but none of them seemed to know him. You weren’t surprised. Thousands of people paraded through these doors on a daily basis, their only accomplishment being the white collars around their necks. You either made it big or died as a nameless corporate slave. Neither celebrated nor remembered.

The receptionist did, however, point you to your destination and provide you with a visitor card. You followed her directions to the elevator, barely finding a spot for yourself in the crammed space that, little by little, cleared up. Your reflection stared back at you—inaccurate, as Worm was nowhere to be found, despite shrieking your ear off a minute ago when you accidentally prodded his tail.

This doesn’t make any sense.

You navigated the maze of cubicle offices before reaching the mail room at the end of the fourth floor. Most employees ignored your presence, while some straight-up shot daggers at you like you were an intruder. You failed to notice the sickeningly amiable smiles Toji described until you saw him surrounded by a bunch of high-heeled man-eaters who vied for his attention.

He was making copies for each of those women, taking away their excuse to loiter around the copy machine and stomping on their confidence with one-worded replies. The less dedicated ones sorted themselves out, while the true contenders stayed back to help him with his workload.

You wished you could get closer and enjoy the show, but you didn’t want to interrupt. Instead, you knelt by an empty desk and placed Wormie on the ground, ushering him in Toji’s direction.

“Make sure he gets it, and I’ll fight for your rights!” You spoke in a hushed voice. “Good boy, Wormie. Now go!”

Certain of your partner’s success, you dashed to the elevator, leaving both him and the company grounds behind for good.

It never occurred to you how much time you spent with Toji since he moved in. And it never occurred to you how long it’d been since you’d last touched yourself either—not until you were lying naked in bed, legs arched and hands stuffed between your thighs, guiding the rabbit vibrator in and out of your sopping cunt while you panted out his name in broken moans.

The hows and whys were unclear. All you remembered was stripping so you could change into a comfier fit, and the next thing you knew, your toy was calling out to you from its hiding spot, fully charged despite its extended period of inertia. You didn’t dare use it when Toji was home—and he was always home. His keen senses trained on you, slashing through every illusion of privacy your bedroom’s paper-thin walls provided.

But he wasn’t there now. And he wouldn’t be there for hours to come. And he looked so damn sexy in his suit, that all you could think about was ripping it off.

“F-fuck, Toji.” You turned the ears speed up a notch.

Each little buzz circulated through your body as tingles of pleasure that enhanced the fantasies your mind crafted. You pictured him leaning over you, wearing nothing but the tie he’d finally mastered. The cocky smile that’d stretch wide on his lips as he’d part your knees with big, veiny arms and stick a thick finger in your pulsing hole, asking you whether that was all for him even when he knew it could only be his—you were only his. He’d ask you to say it out loud; have you repeat it countless times while drilling his cock into your pussy, discovering depths that neither your fingers nor the silicone were capable of.

He’d suggested he was big. God, you’d gotten so close to seeing for yourself. You wanted to touch it, lick it, kiss, bounce on it so many times that the room began to spin around you. Even if it was big, you’d make it fit. Even if it was too big, you’d let him split you open.

Your eyes squeezed shut as you thrust the bunny upward, trapping your clit between the little ears that flicked rabidly in sync.

You needed him to fill you up. You needed to somehow justify all those years of starvation for him, his body, and his cum—you needed to feel it running down your trembling thighs, hot and sticky, as you milked every drop he had to offer.

The tension in your guts finally snapped as you focused on the three little words you longed to hear the most. You didn’t care whether he whispered, moaned, or grunted them out. You wanted to hear them in his voice at least once in your life. You needed him to be yours just as you were his—to love you like you loved him too.

The sweat on your forehead barely had the chance to cool down, when your eyes opened to a sight far more palpable than your crumbling high.

“Is this what ya do when I’m not around?”

A/N: next chapter will have smut, i'm not that ruthless.

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gretavangroupie · 1 year

Text

Vigilance (Chapter 3)

Word count: 9.1k+

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x Female Reader

Warnings: 18+ as always, drinking, language, fluff, angst, violence.

This story is a very special collaboration with my best pal @gretavanmoon. We have been scheming on this one for a while... If you haven't read her stuff, definitely go check it out. If you have, even better! We are taking this one all the way back to the early days, but we will be going into the present, so hold on tight it will be a bumpy ride. Without further ado...

SAM POV

New Year’s Eve 2017

Chasing your drunk girlfriend around a party where she knows practically everyone proved to be a daunting task. As soon as you would find her she would pop out of sight and find someone new to strike up a conversation with. Elle was like magic, she could instantly transform any situation into a reason to have fun. However, at parties she was slippery. Hard to grasp and keep in one place, you knew that she had never been tied down a day in her life. You liked her that way.

So tonight as you watch her flit around the room transferring her happiness to everyone she met, you decided to sit back and watch. After securing your New Year’s kiss at midnight, you watched as people began to slowly file out. The crowd began to grow thin, and you took an empty seat on your old family sofa, chatting casually with whoever passed by.

Even through the crowd of people you could hear the crashing of the back door against the frame. Maybe it's because you lived here and recognized the sound, but no one else seemed to notice. You snapped your head in its direction and you saw her. Her new boyfriend had her by her arm, fingers digging into her bicep as she tried to push him off of her. Your brow furrows as you try to make sense of the situation. Squinting your eyes, you watch him drag her across the backside of your living room. He bends to whisper something in her ear as she turns her head away from him. Something is not right.

As he throws open the front door, he escorts her out first looking behind himself as he shuts the door. Instinctively you stand, your legs carrying you over to the window to check on them. You see him slamming the door after her, before getting into the driver's side. Wheels spinning in the yard as he pulls out onto the street. Your heart is racing. Is she okay? It’s not like her to leave without saying goodbye. Should I tell someone?

Seeing Elle deep in conversation, you make your way to the patio, Jake’s favorite hiding spot for situations like these. He was never much of a partier, choosing to have a few drinks and spend time in his own head. As you step outside you see him leaning against the railing on the side of the house where the light burned out years ago. It never got changed because Jake ‘liked it that way’.

As you approach him you can see the look of fury on his face. Something has him pissed off, and you think you may have a clue. You lean against the railing next to him, just silent for a few minutes before you finally break.

“Did you see her?” you ask.

His head turns to you, “Yeah, I saw her… And him.” he answers, a darkness pooling in his eyes.

“He seems like a real piece of work. I just watched him drag her by the arm across the living room. She looked upset. I am kind of worried…” you trail off.

“He did that shit out here too. She was out here talking to me and he lost it and told her they were leaving. Yanked her right out of the chair, cussing, the whole nine. I thought I might kill him, but not all of us can con our way out of jail with our good looks…” he says smirking at you.

“It was one time…” you laugh. Your tone returns to worry, “You think she is okay though?”

“She’s a tough one. She can hold her own. We have all been drinking…I’m sure she is fine.” he says. You nod your head in response, as you hear Elle pop through the back door calling your name.

JAKE POV

The truth is that you don’t know if she’s okay. You have a bad feeling about Andy. Call it a hunch. But you can’t let Sammy know that. He will be worried sick over her. His best friend. She’s been gone for 5 minutes and you already have a nagging feeling in your chest. You know something isn’t right.

Hours pass as you think about her and what happened tonight. Maybe you should have tried harder, stood your ground. Taken her behind you, protected her. But you couldn’t. You know that in just a few days she will be back in Ann Arbor with him, with no one to protect her from the repercussions of what you might have done to save her tonight. It was better to let her go. Safer even. You hated every second of it.

But, she said it. Those words you have been dying to hear fall from her lips. She loves you. Still. She never stopped. Dread washes over your body as you remember the other things she said. The hurtful things, the ugly truths you didn’t want to hear. ‘He wasn't gone…’, ‘He didn’t leave me’. The sentiments swirl through your head. She was right. You did leave her. You had no choice. You left her and hated every waking second spent away from her. Your mind has been plagued by her day in and day out. Always and only her.

When Sam met Elle you were happy for him. Finally he could take his mind off of not being with the girl he always dreamed he would be with. You felt his pain. Wallowed with him in secret. What are the odds that the two of you both spent your nights sleeplessly tossing and turning in turmoil over the same girl? The girl who was off in someone else's arms just to dull the pain of not having you.

Sam stopped mentioning her after a while. It almost made you sad. Was he forgetting her? How could he? Why couldn’t you?

But you knew why. You didn’t want to. Every girl at gigs vying for your attention, the ones that would inevitably make it backstage, the ones draped around Danny and Josh, the ones you would see sneaking out of hotel rooms early in the morning… they could never hold a candle to her. They would never be her.

HER POV

“Andy stop, let go of me.” you say, pulling your arm away from him as he forces you through the house.

He bends down to growl into your ear, “We will talk about this in the car. Let’s go.” You turn your face away from him, not even able to look at him in the moment. Crossing the living room you are glad to not recognize any faces, embarrassed of what they might think. As he pushes you through the front door, he closes it swiftly behind himself, unlocking his car at the same time. He pulls open the passenger door and instructs you to get in before slamming the door behind you. He is in the driver's seat in seconds, wheels spinning as he pulls out of the grass and onto the pavement.

Your heart beats rapidly in your chest, you’ve never seen him like this before. He is really mad, and to be honest you don’t blame him. What he walked in on was nothing short of shocking. “Andy I–”

“Shut up.” he seethes, cutting you off before you even have a chance to explain. His knuckles were white with his hard grip on the steering wheel. “Do you love that guy?”

You sit nervously in the passenger seat, not fully processing his question.

Suddenly he punches the steering wheel, “Answer me! Do you love him?!” he screams.

Panic stricken you lie, “NO!” afraid of what would happen if you told the truth. “Of course I don’t! I was drunk I didn’t mean it!”

His car abruptly comes to a halt outside your parents house, “Get out,” he says, his eyes glossed over and glued to the street ahead of him.

Taking the opportunity to get as far away from him as possible, you throw the door open and shut it behind you as he speeds off.

You are shaking with nerves and feel sick to your stomach. What just happened?

You quickly make your way inside and to your room. You close the door quietly behind you so as to not wake your parents as you struggle to keep yourself from having a panic attack.

Sitting on the edge of your bed you pull your phone from your purse and see a text from Sam.

Sam: You okay?

There was a time in your life where you would tell him everything. Every secret, every thought you had. But things aren't like that anymore. You want to tell him everything, but you can’t. You gave that up when you ghosted him for months on end, and for what? For a guy who yells at you in front of your friends? A guy who lays his hands on you and tells you to shut up?

You: Yeah, I’m okay. Thanks for inviting me to the party, I had a good time.

Sam: You sure about that…

You: Yes…

Sam: You would tell me if you didn’t have a good time… right?

You: Yes. I think we all just had a little too much to drink.

Sam: Okay.

You hated lying to him, but you had to. What were you supposed to say? Sorry my boyfriend lost his cool and made us leave? It was better to leave things this way. Your mind shoots back to Jake and what he said tonight. What you said.

I told him I love him. I do. That part was true.

‘You disappeared! I waited for you! I thought you felt the same! You told me you felt the same!’

Those words shattered you. He waited for you, but you didn’t wait for him. You couldn’t. It hurt too bad.

‘But even from halfway across the country I wanted you. I always wanted you. Only you!’

The worst part of all of this is that you still wanted him too. You’ve only ever wanted him. But there was Andy. You wanted Andy, but in a different way you wanted Jake. He would never be to you, what Jake was. You would never want Andy in the same way that you longed for Jake. It was a different, ancient kind of longing. Forbidden, making it all the more painful. You meant what you said tonight. You do love Jake. You never stopped loving him. You know that you always will love him, but you don’t know if the time will ever come for the two of you.

–

A few days after returning to school for the start of the new semester you heard from Andy. He wanted to talk, and you were willing. You wanted to fix things, you knew you screwed up but he wasn’t exactly innocent either. When he called and asked you to come over you agreed, nervously counting the minutes until class ended. You knew what you were going to say, you had it all planned out. You hoped he would forgive you.

As you knocked on the door to his apartment, he greeted you with a smile. You stepped in as he pulled you into a hug. You weren’t sure what to expect but this definitely wasn’t it. He stepped back from you, pulling your arm to examine the four tiny faded purple marks. “These are from me?” he asks, brow furrowed in sadness.

“Yeah…” you say shyly.

“I am so sorry. I don’t know what came over me. I was just blinded with rage. Hearing you say that to him… I don’t know. I snapped. I really am sorry. I just… love you so much. You make me crazy…” he implores.

He loves you?

Andy sullenly made his way over to the couch and plopped down, his head falling into his hands. You could tell he really was torn up.

“I’ve never felt like this about someone. I need you. Please say you forgive me.” he begs.

Taking in his words the best you can, you search his face for any sign of insincerity. It really does feel like he means it. He seems to be being genuine and his piercing eyes are begging you to take him back. His hand gently glides down your arm, stopping when it meets your hand. He pulls your hand to his lips placing a soft kiss on your knuckles. “I’m sorry.”

“I know you aren’t usually like that, and if you really are sorry, I can forgive you. But you embarrassed me in front of my friends. You can't do that, ever again.” you say.

“I swear. Never again.” he says, the corners of his mouth turning into a smile.

“Okay…” you reply hesitantly. “Do you mean it though?” you ask.

“Mean what?” he asks.

“You said you love me…” you say.

“Yeah, I do. I do mean it. I’m crazy about you. I can’t lose you.” he replies.

You feel a flutter spread through your chest as his eyes meet yours. You press your lips to his, forgiving him for his actions and praying it would never happen again.

---

April 2018

It had been three months since the New Years Party and things had been so much better. You had spent almost every day together. He had gone above and beyond taking you on dates, starting each morning with a text and ending each night on the phone. Of course, some nights you were together into the morning, but even then it was good. He had even made it a point to take you back home to meet his family, who you instantly felt very welcome and comfortable with. Things had never been better between the two of you. But there would always be that one thing you could and would never tell him. Something you'd carry with you for life.

As you walked to class you reveled in the warmth of the sun. It had been cold and cloudy, but today the sun warmed the air and everyone was taking advantage of it. Ascending the steps to the building you felt your phone buzz in your back pocket.

Danny: Hey! I am throwing a surprise party for Sam’s birthday in a few days, can you come?

Sam’s birthday?

You check the date on your phone and see it’s in two days. Crap you almost missed it.

You: Absolutely. I will be there, just text me the details.

Danny: Awesome, I will.

This was your chance to make things right with Sam. Show him that you are still his best friend and that you are still there for him. Truthfully you do miss him and find yourself often wishing you could just call him up like you used to. Maybe after this party you would be able to do that again.

After classes that day you made your way to the bookstore near campus. You knew exactly what you wanted to get Sam for his birthday. Skimming the spines of books on the shelf you spot it. The exact book you checked out from the library that day so many years ago, ‘The Birth of Loud’. The book the two of you poured over for weeks working on your History project. There were a few times you caught Sam reading it for fun. You knew he would love it, so as you handed the cashier your money she put the red book in the paper bag and you were on your way. As soon as you got back to your dorm you took the extra time to write a special message on the inside cover. Your ‘I’m Sorry’ statement.

‘I promise I won’t be a ghost anymore. Proud of you Rockstar. Happy Birthday.’

—

As you and Andy make the drive up to Frankenmuth, you fidget anxiously in the passenger seat. He has insisted on coming with you, in fact demanded, hoping to make a better impression on your friends. You reluctantly agreed. Your mind is racing, knowing that more than likely Jake would be there. You haven’t spoken since that night. The wounds still too fresh. Would you talk tonight? What would you say? Sensing your anxiety, Andy places his hand on your leg, instantly calming you.

A while later you are pulling up in front of that same house you know so well. A few cars line the streets, but not as many as you expected. It looked to be a small get together rather than a party. You swallow the lump in your throat when you spot Jake’s car in the driveway and open your car door. Andy greets you on the other side, offering his arm to you as you walk up to the porch.

You peek into the front door to make sure it's ok to walk in, and you see people standing around talking quietly near the couch. Danny spots you and rushes over to you, ushering you in, and telling you that Sam will be there any minute. You make your way into the kitchen with the rest of the crew and wait nervously. No sign of Jake just yet, thankfully.

Andy quickly makes you both drinks and returns to your side, as Danny shushes the small crowd of people. Seconds later you all hear the front door open and smile nervously at each other. As he steps foot into the kitchen the whole group shouts ‘surprise’ and Sam’s signature smile crosses his face. He is happy, and you missed his happy smile. His eyes lock with yours and there is an unspoken conversation had. He is glad you’re here, and you knew you wouldn’t miss it for the world. Maybe things will be okay between the two of you after all.

This party was different from the last, you knew most everyone here. It made conversing and mingling fun and less daunting. You caught up with old highschool friends and reminisced over the good old days. You missed those days. Days spent in this very house. From across the room you see him. He glides down the stairs and into the living room, taking a look for familiar faces. As your eyes meet, his brow furrows. He looks to Andy, who isn’t paying attention, and turns his head walking away into the kitchen.

It’s only been three months since you’ve seen him but he looks different now. More…mature. His hair is longer, hanging down past his shoulders. His jaw more pronounced. He has a glow about him that you can’t quite put your finger on, but you find that you positively cannot take your eyes off of him, and even worse, you don’t want to.

The doorbell rings snapping you from your daydreams, and you see Daniel accepting a stack of pizza from the young delivery driver. Thank god, you were starving. You broke away from Andy to help Daniel carry the pizzas to the kitchen. You remembered where the paper plates were so you pulled them from the pantry and set them on the counter.

Danny looked over to you as he spread the boxes across the empty counters, “Thanks for coming. I know it means a lot to Sam.” he said with a soft smile.

“Of course, I wouldn’t have missed it. I miss you guys.” you reply.

“We miss you too.” he says.

“Where are Karen and Kelly, I’d love to see them?” you ask.

“Oh, they went to see Kelly’s parents for the weekend. Left Jake in charge…” he smirks walking into the living room.

Sam walks into the kitchen, seeing you and pulling you into a bear hug. “I can’t believe you came!”

“Why does everyone keep saying that? Of course I came! You’re my best friend!” you laugh.

“Am I? Still?” he asks, with a raised eyebrow.

“Yes, Sammy… you’ll always be my best friend. That hurts!” you joke.

“Well, good. Don’t tell Danny but you’re still my best friend too.” he whispers.

You give him another hug, just as Jake comes around the corner. “Thank god, the food is here.” he says.

He nods his head at you as a silent hello. He bites his lip and turns his attention to the boxes on the counter. Grabbing a paper plate he puts two slices on top and hands it to you. “Hmm…just like old times, huh?” he smirks.

“Yeah, I guess you’re right… seems we have been in this situation before.” you smile.

“Ahh, yes except this time you’re not blushing like a school girl because I handed you a plate.” he says with a wink, causing you to, of course, blush.

“Oh, wait, there it is.” he laughs.

You roll your eyes and walk to the other side of the kitchen. Andy steps in and sees you, motioning to his cup that he was going to get another drink.

Sam grabs his pizza and joins you as you catch up and laugh over the last few months. Surprisingly Jake sticks around too, joining you and Sam. You can feel the air change as he steps into your orbit. The electricity between you pulsing through the space air.

Andy approaches with his fresh drink and you feel your body tense up. The last time you were with Jake he lashed out, but he promised it wouldn’t happen again. You took a deep breath as he joined your small circle.

He reached his hand out to shake with Sam, “Hey man, good to see you again, Happy Birthday!” he says politely. This is the Andy you knew, friendly and charismatic. Sam thanks him and turns his attention back to your conversation, but you are distracted by the other two men in front of you that have done nothing but occupy your mind for the past several months.

Andy reaches his hand out to shake with Jake. He wipes his hand on his dark jeans and returns the handshake. “Hey I’m Andy, nice to meet you.” he says with a smile.

“Jake. Nice to meet you too, thanks for coming out.” he replies.

Okay, all good so far.

Sam starts a new conversation about when they would resume the tour, and what was coming up this summer. He asked about your summer plans and if you would be around and truthfully you didn’t know. You hadn’t even thought about it yet, but you were pretty sure you would be home for the summer, and secretly hoped they would be too.

“I guess, it depends, what are you guys going to be doing this summer?” you ask playfully.

“Actually, we have a long break from May to the end of July, so we will probably be here and in the studio if I had to guess.” Jake interjects.

“Maybe we can all go to the lake one day, like old times.” you smile.

“Yeah! Let’s do it! Yeah that’s what I want for my birthday! You come to the lake with us again!” Sam begs.

“Okay, okay! I think I can swing it, but I guess I will have to take your real gift back.” you joke.

“Well I guess you better put that pizza down then.” Andy chides.

You all turn to look at him as he stands there with a smug look. “What?” you ask.

“You need to start working on your summer body, and that…” he says pointing to your plate, “is going to make it worse.” he says, grabbing your arm and pulling you harshly into his side.

Pulling away from him you look at your plate. You are taken aback. “What do you mean my ‘summer body’, Andy?” you ask confrontationally.

“I think you could slim down before parading around in bikinis all summer, don’t you think?” he replies.

At this point, Sam and Jake’s jaws hang slack, also stunned by Andy’s words. You don’t respond to him, and wait for the topic to change as you step away, tossing your plate into the trash and heading to the upstairs bathroom.

Your cheeks are flushed red, tears threatening to spill as you ascending up the old wooden stairs. You feel sick to your stomach. Do I really look that bad? Is he right?

You step into the bathroom and lock the door behind you. You examine yourself in the mirror, really taking a look at yourself. You don’t feel like you look that bad, but could it just be distorted perception? Maybe you don't look as good as you thought? Tears roll down your cheeks as you replay the conversation in your head. Why did he have to say that in front of them? Was this his way of marking his territory? You thought he loved you how you were? Why do you need to change your body?

Your cheeks are red and splotchy as you wipe away the wetness on your face. You clear your throat and fix your hair as you turn to unlock the bathroom door and rejoin the party, hoping no one notices your red eyes.

As you step into the hallway a hand grabs your arm, pulling you into the bedroom next door. You would know that touch anywhere. The door shuts behind you as you see his face.

You stand there silently, trying not to make eye contact with him. You don’t want him to see your tears.

“Don’t hide from me. I know you were crying. I heard you.” he whispers.

“I wasn’t. I’m fine.” you lie, turning your face away from him.

“You’re a bad liar, you know.” he says, the corners of his mouth turning upward.

He moves his hand to turn your chin to look at him, and he sees the glossiness coating your red rimmed eyes, causing his brows to furrow. “Don’t listen to him. He’s wrong. There is nothing wrong with you. You are beautiful. Perfect even. He’s a fool if he doesn’t see what he has right in front of him.” he says, a look of seriousness on his face.

You cast your eyes down, focusing on the necklace that hangs underneath his shirt.

“Look at me.” he demands, and you flick your eyes upwards. His hand moves to rest at your neck. The heat from his hand burns into your skin.

“Why do you let him treat you like this?” he asks.

“Like what?” you ask, feigning ignorance.

“You know what. Putting his hands on you, talking down to you…” he replies.

“He isn’t usually like that.” you say, pleading with him.

“Really, because both times I have been around him, he has been like that and you’ve been upset.” he says.

You don’t answer, biting your cheek at the realization of his observations.

“Are you happy?” he asks. “If you are, I won’t bring it up again. I’m as good as gone. But I know you, and I don’t think you are.” he says, sliding his hand from your neck down your arm.

You pull your arms across your chest and look down at the floor. “Jake…I–”

Your eyes flash up to his and are met with sadness. There is a long pause of silence between you before he finally speaks, “Okay…” he says, as he steps around you, twisting the handle and walking out of the bedroom.

You back yourself against the closed door and let the tears fall again. Your heart aches in your chest. Had you just told him it’s over? Really over? You are immediately left feeling like there is a hole in your chest. Panic washes over you. What did you do?

You pull yourself together, looking at yourself in the small mirror on the wall in Jake’s bedroom. You make your way down stairs and notice that the party has moved into the basement. Descending the second set of stairs you see Andy playing beer pong with some guys and notice that he has clearly had more to drink since you left him. His words are slurring and his balance off kilter.

You walk over to him and tell him that you are back, and he moves you to the side as he ignores your hug, lining himself up for his next shot. Feeling slightly rejected you wander off for a bit talking to Elle, and your friend Sarah from highschool. Jake is on the opposite side of the room, and occasionally your eyes meet his, hoping he could hear what you were screaming in your brain. ‘No, I’m not happy. He’s not you!’ You’re sure that if he could hear you he would run to you, no questions asked. His eyes are sad, and his demeanor has changed. You can tell that he is hurting just as much as you are.

The guys at the beer pong table erupt into loud cheers as the final ball is sunk into the red plastic cup. Of course Andy won, you haven’t seen him lose yet. You smile and shake your head as he approaches you with a huge smug grin.

“Successful as always I see…” you say.

“You know I never lose…had to show these idiots who’s in charge here…” he slurs. He tosses back the rest of the drink in his cup, before disappearing upstairs to inevitably get another.

“These idiots? These are my friends Andy…” you snap back.

“Ahhh whatever…” he replies haphazardly.

As the night progresses the crowd gets more and more rowdy, losing sight of their inside voices and resulting in full on yelling conversations. Andy is no exception. He has kept his arm around you all night, never letting you stray too far from his side. When you asked to go to the bathroom he told you to ‘come straight back’ to which you replied with an eye roll. When his fist tightened on your shoulder you flinched in pain and pulled away, wincing.

“Andy, stop.” you say.

“No, I’m tired of you running off all the time. You’re my girlfriend. Act like it.” he says gripping your arm as you struggle to pull it away.

“Oh stoppp, you’re fine…” he slurs.

Sam steps over noticing the interaction, “Hey, what’s up guys?” he says, trying to break the obvious tension.

“Nothing, she is just drunk and being dramatic as usual.” Andy chides.

Sam bites his tongue as you finally break free and begin to walk away, practically sprinting up the stairs. You rub the spot on your arm, sure to leave fresh bruises.

Why is he like this?

Maybe Jake is right…

You make your way to the bathroom to relieve yourself, before finding yourself hesitating to go back to the basement. Instead you make your way to the kitchen, making yourself a drink. You fill the cup with mostly vodka, and a splash of cranberry, hoping the vodka will numb the feeling in your chest.

Your legs carry you outside onto the deck, taking comfort in the familiar old wicker chair. Relaxing into it you sip your drink. The sound of the music inside reduced to a dull buzz. Your head falls back staring up at the dark sky. You miss this about Frankenmuth. In fact, there is a lot you miss about Frankenmuth. It’s home. They are home.

You continue to sip your drink, letting the cool wind carry away your cares, and letting the vibration of the music lull you to sleep. You hear voices and your eyes pop open. How long was I sleep? Oh god, where is Andy?

You pull yourself up from the chair, dashing inside and seeing that 30 minutes has passed, but the house is mostly cleared out. Rushing down to the basement you see Josh in the corner talking to someone he has roped into one of his long winded discussions. But more to your surprise you see Andy, passed out on the couch. You walk over to him and shake him to wake him up, but he doesn’t budge. His phone lights up on his stomach, showing a few missed texts from a name you don’t recognize. You pick it up to put it on the coffee table as another comes through.

Rebecca: Miss you too. When do you get back? I can come over that night. ;)

What?

You click on the text and see that they have been talking all night, and actually for much much longer than that. A sick feeling washes over you. How long has this been going on? Pushing the thought from your head you drag yourself upstairs to find one more drink, desperate to forget this entire night.

Your hand shakily pours the vodka into the plastic cup, as your eyes scan the counter for any type of mixer. When you find that mostly everything is empty you sigh and let your head hang in defeat. You just can't win.

JAKE POV

As you stumble into the kitchen, you see her. Standing at the counter attempting to pour herself a drink. As she picks up empty bottles of mixers you see her hang her head and a sigh leave her chest. You’ve never seen her drink this much, and you know that she is still upset about earlier. You find yourself in a similar predicament. How are you supposed to feel when the girl you love chooses to be with someone else? Someone that treats her the way he does.

You’ve watched him all night. Observed him, really. You know guys like him. Puts on a cool guy front around people but acts differently behind closed doors, or in this case when he has a little too much to drink. You don’t like him, and you certainly don’t trust him. Especially with her.

You quietly open the pantry door, pulling out a warm can of Lime LaCroix, “Will this work?” you call across the kitchen.

Her head snaps over to you, as you lift the can in her direction and her gaze softens, “Yes… Thank you.”

You make your way over to her, pulling the tab on the can and pouring it over the ice and vodka. You watch it fizz in the cup as she leans against the counter to face you.

“I’m guessing he is driving?” you ask.

She grabs the drink and looks at you, “Well, since he is passed out in your basement, I don’t have high hopes.” she says with a soft smile.

I knew it was too quiet around here…

She walks into the living room and you follow close behind. She sits on the old couch, sinking into its plush cushions. You take a seat in the chair next to her, propping your favorite dirty boots up on the coffee table. Just as you go to speak, Sam walks into the room to see both of you.

“Well, Elle is down for the count…” he laughs.

“Yeah, we were just discussing my drunk date passed out in your basement.” she says, shaking her head.

“He was supposed to drive…” you say to Sam, rolling your eyes. Both of you nodding in unspoken agreement that the guy is a prick.

“I am not sure how I am supposed to get him back to the AirBnB…” she jokes.

In unison you and Sam both reply, “Stay here.”

She laughs thinking you are joking, before she realizes you’re serious.

“Really, you have been drinking. Stay here, please. I will worry if you don’t.” Sam says, flashing his big brown puppy dog eyes at her, that you know she can’t say no to.

“He’s right…” you say, tipping your head towards her.

Please stay. Let me talk to you for a while…

You can tell she’s thinking about it. The tiny crease between her eyebrows has always been her dead giveaway, and this was no exception. Her brow relaxes and she looks at both of you.

“Alright, but only if one of you gets drunk with me.” she smiles.

“Oh, not me. I already have to take care of Elle who thinks I came down here for water.” he laughs.

“Guess that leaves me…” you reply. “I’m halfway there anyways…”

She tips her cup to her lips, drinking down the alcohol, shuddering at the hefty pour of vodka. You watch as it travels down her throat, and you feel a tingle flash through your chest.

“Goodnight, see you two in the morning!” Sam says, cheerfully walking off.

She watches him walk away before turning her attention to you, your eyes already fixed on her.

The house is quiet, the soft snores from upstairs are the tell tale sign that Josh is sleeping soundly.

“I’ll be right back…” you say, standing up and walking towards the stairs.

“Where are you going?” she asks.

“Shhhhh… give me a second.” you smile before quietly walking up the stairs. You step into your room and open your wooden cigar box pulling out the joint you rolled this afternoon. You close the box and walk back down the stairs, happy to find her sitting in the same spot you left her.

You walk over to her and stand in front of her, pulling the joint from your shirt pocket. You wiggle it between your fingers as you extend your hand to help her up. She takes it and joins you as you make your way to the back door.

You open the door letting her out as you follow behind her. The air has grown colder since sunset and you know she will be cold soon. This probably won't last long. As she sits in her favorite chair, you take the seat next to her. It feels good to be here with her. Somehow things are different out here. In this spot both of you can be open with each other. Talk. Tell the truth.

You light the joint, and pass it to her, letting her hit it first. You take turns passing it back and forth in the silence as you typically do until you’ve both had your fill. You tap the end between your fingers, extinguishing the smoldering end.

“You know, I was out here earlier…” she says, staring off into the dark field. “I was just staring at the sky. I miss it here. It’s the only place I can see the stars.”

“When we were gone I missed it too. There is something different about this place.” you say. Theres a beat of silence between the two of you.

She tilts her head back staring up again, “Did you miss me when you were gone?” she asks.

“Everyday. I told you that.” you reply.

“I think I thought about you every single day. I knew I shouldn’t, but I did.” she says. You know she is faded when she starts to tell her own secrets and you usually stop her, but this time you let her.

“Why?” you ask.

“You are just always there. In my mind, taking a walk through every memory.” she answers. You know exactly what she means. Every memory you replay in your head is somehow about her.

“Just tell me if you’re happy…Does he really make you happy?” you ask.

“I think so…” she answers, but you can tell by the inflection of her voice that she is lying. You’ve always been able to tell.

“I don’t think you’re telling me the truth.” you say, turning your head to her.

She turns to look at you, eyes glossy and heavy, “We have happy moments, but it’s not always like that. I don’t think he will ever truly make me happy. No one could. But that’s only because they’ll never be you…” and as the words leave her lips she turns her face back to the sky. Her sentiments are like a dagger to the heart.

You sip your drink in silence until it’s empty, letting her words roll around in your head until they find a soft place to land.

“He is texting some other girl…” she says, barely a whisper from her lips. A drunken confession.

“What?” you shoot back.

“His phone. I saw it. When I went back down to the basement earlier. I saw him passed out on the couch, his phone laying there. I saw the texts. That’s when you found me in the kitchen.” she slurs.

Your face heats with anger. “You’re kidding, right?”

“I wish. The joke of it all is that he tells me how lucky I am to be with someone like him… I don’t feel very lucky right now.” she says finishing her drink.

“God, you don’t deserve this! Why don’t you see it! We all see it!” you say, raising your voice.

“He’s not usually like this!” she replies.

“How many times does he have to do it before it becomes the usual!? Let me guess, he tells you that ‘you’ll never find someone better than him?’ ‘No one that loves you like he does?’” you ask.

“Jake… please.” she says, clearly flustered. She knows you’re right.

“I’m sorry. I just… can’t stand to see you being treated like this.” you say.

“I wish things were different.” she whispers.

“Me too.” you reply.

You sit in silence for a little while longer, before you notice her shivering from the cold. The alcohol and weed have made her numb to it, but you know she is cold and her body is showing it. You remove your blue corduroy overshirt and toss it to her, “Here, you’re shivering.”

She gratefully accepts it and you watch as she slides her arms through, seeing the dark purple mark on the inside of her arm. She pulls it tight across her chest accepting the warmth it's holding in its fibers. A fire burns through your chest seeing her in your clothes. You’re positive she’s never looked more beautiful.

“You have bruises…” you question.

“I think sometimes he doesn’t realize he’s doing it.” She offers.

Lie. He knows exactly what he’s doing. Marking her, manipulating her.

“Do you want to go in? I think the fire is still going in the fireplace…” you ask.

“Yeah, but I will probably fall asleep.” she smiles.

“Well I can let you go to sleep? You take my bed. I’ll sleep on the couch.” you say.

“Nooo, Jake I can’t take your bed. This is your house!” she replies.

“But I want you to.” you reply honestly, knowing that the scent of her on your pillow will linger for days.

“Just come talk to me on the couch for a little while longer.” she asks, and you know you’d do anything she asked when she looked at you like that.

“Lead the way…” you smile back at her.

You spend the next hour talking about her school, your tour and anything else you can come up with, but you see the light in her eyes fading. She has progressively sunken further and further into you on the couch as the minutes have passed. As her head finally dips to rest on your shoulder, you know she’s dozing off. Feeling her soft breath on your shoulder, you let her sleep for a while. You scroll through your phone until the fire completely dies and the clock reads 1:00.

As you go to slide from underneath her, you position yourself in front of her, tapping her shoulder. “Hey, you want to go sleep in my bed?” You whisper.

“No, I’ll sleep here. You go.” she replies, voice groggy, and laced with alcohol.

Knowing that she isn’t going to go of her own free will, you decide for her, scooping her into your arms. Her eyes open wide as she realizes what’s happening, and instinctively wraps her arms around your neck.

“What are you doing! Put me down!” she whispers.

“Shhhh.” You whisper into her hair. You reach the top of the steps and open your bedroom door, stepping inside and laying her on top of the quilt. You untie her shoes, placing them at the foot of the bed.

She opens her eyes and sits up, looking around the room. She slides your shirt off of her arms and lays it next to her. “Got anything a little more… comfy?” she asks.

You can’t help the smile that pulls across your lips, as you open your dresser drawer and pull out a tee shirt. You open it up to see which one it is, and nod, throwing it over to her.

She catches it and looks at it, flashing you a knowing grin. “Oh I bet you’re loving this aren’t you?”

“I suppose I am.” you answer.

You grab yourself some clothes and an extra blanket, “I’ll be downstairs if you need anything.”

“Wait!” she says, stopping you in your tracks. You turn to look at her.

“Um… can you stay in here for a little while?” she asks, practically melting your heart. She doesn’t want you to leave her yet.

“If you want me to?” you say, throwing the blanket over your desk chair.

“Okay.” she replies, nodding her head.

You make your way to the door, and you see her brow furrow. “I’m just going to go to the bathroom, I’ll be right back, I promise.” you laugh. You can see her cheeks blush pink. Your favorite color in the world.

You flash her a smile and close the bedroom door. You make your way to the bathroom, changing out of your clothes and pulling on a pair of shorts. You brush your teeth and try not to seem too eager about returning to the girl in your room.

As you quietly pad down the hallway your mind jumps back to Andy passed out in your basement. You can't believe he would ever dream of talking to another girl. The perfect woman was right in front of him. Why couldn't he see that?

As you gently turn the door knob, you enter the room, seeing her curled up on your pillow. ‘Greta Van Fleet’ displayed across her chest. Your heart clenches in your chest at the sight of her in your bed, with your band on her shirt. A dream realized, in the wrong circumstances.

“Just sit with me for a little while?” she asks. “Or, unless you don’t want to. You’re probably tired too, I don’t–” you cut her off.

“I want to. Promise.” you say, pulling the desk chair to the side of the bed, sitting and extending your legs up onto the side of the bed. It’s quiet for a few minutes as you stare at each other. Her eyes start to grow heavy, as she whispers your name. “Jake?”

Your eyes meet hers, and you nod.

“Will you play me a song…” she asks. You’re fairly confident you’ve waited your whole life for her to ask this question, but now that the moment is here you don’t know what to play.

“I have to be quiet, but I will show you something I have been working on?” you ask.

“Okay…” she whispers, eyes closed, face pushed into the pillow.

You grab your new twelve string from the corner, a gift from the label after your first tour, and begin softly strumming the strings. The notes float around the room like twinkling stars in the sky, lulling her to sleep, not even knowing the song is about her.

When her eyes fully shut, you quietly place the guitar back on the stand, and turn off the lamp. You pull the quilt up over her shoulders and brush the hair from her face. You look at her, even in the darkness of the room, and wonder how one person could be so beautiful.

As you step away, you grab the door knob and you hear her. “Jake?”

“Yeah?” you answer.

“Stay with me.” she says.

“What?” you ask.

“Come back. Come here.” she whispers.

You walk back over to the bed and feel her hand searching for yours in the dark. Her fingers glide over the top of your hand, feeling the warm skin. “Will you stay here? Stay with me?” she asks nervously.

“Are you sure…” you ask.

“It’s the only thing I’m sure about.” she says.

You pull your shirt over your head, and toss it on the chair, climbing into the bed to lay behind her. You will admit you weren’t looking forward to sleeping on the couch, but never did you imagine you’d end your night this way.

Pulling yourself under the quilt you can feel the heat of her legs radiating onto yours. You turn over to your side to face her back, and move the pillow under your head, a sigh releasing from your chest.

You feel her moving as her body rolls to face you. A tiny bit of moonlight peeks through the blinds at the foot of the bed, allowing you to see her face.

Her hand reaches out and tucks your long hair behind your ear, before resting it in front of her chest. You can feel the tension between the two of you. This is as close as you have ever been to her. Your body calling out to kiss her since that night at the graduation party. You needed her, and here she was. But she wasn't yours to kiss.

You grab her hand, pressing a soft kiss to her finger tips, “Go to sleep, love.” you whisper.

Her fingers work to intertwine with yours but you release her from your grip knowing if you touch her for too long you won't be able to stop. Instead she pulls herself closer to you, snaking her arm around your waist and holding you. You know right then, that she wants you just as bad as you want her. You know it's probably just the alcohol in her system making her brave, but you revel in it, and enjoy the closeness of her, the smell of her hair against your nose and the feel of her bare legs against yours. You wrap your arm around her waist, clad in just your tshirt and her underwear, pulling her into you further, groaning as her face nuzzles into your neck. She fits with you perfectly, and you wish you could freeze this moment. You aren’t sure if you imagined it, but you think you felt her lips flutter across your neck ever so slightly sending a shiver through your body. Minutes later, you hear her breathing even out, feel the soft rise and fall of her chest, and you know she's out.

You lay there for a while, taking in every second of this moment. A moment that shouldn’t be happening, but by some miracle was. Your eyes grow tired but you fight it, knowing in the morning this will have to end. When you can't fight it any longer you place a soft kiss on her forehead, letting your eyes close with her wrapped in your arms.

Sometime around 6AM you heard the bathroom door shut a little too hard, waking you from your sleep. You know this is Josh sending your twin signal for something impending, but you ignore it. You feel her next to you, on top of you, all over you in fact. Her head is laying on your arm, while her right arm and leg are slung across your body. She is cuddled into your side in ways you have only dreamt of, causing you to grow hard beneath her. Not wanting this moment to end you roll to your side, pulling her close once more, before drifting back to sleep.

When you awoke the second time, it was far less pleasant. Your bedroom door is being thrown open, and your eyes spring wide at the sound. Your vision is blurry still as your eyes adjust to the daylight coming in through the window. She untangles herself from you as she sits up in the bed, pulling the quilt up to cover her.

“Oh, fucking of course. Should have fucking known.” Andy yells, seeing her laying next to you.

“Andy, stop it’s not what it looks like.” she replies, jumping up out of the bed and walking over to him.

“Oh fuck you, I don’t believe that for a second!” he yells in her face.

“Hey man, calm down. She’s telling the truth. She was drunk, and not feeling good, and asked me to stay with her since you were passed out in my basement. Nothing happened.” you say, trying to ease the tension.

“Andy, really, I swear it’s–” she starts before he cuts her off.

“You’re a slut, you know that?” he says barreling through the door, and down the stairs.

“Hey!” you yell, throwing the quilt off of you and pulling on your shirt. How dare he talk to her like that.

“I knew you’d sleep with him eventually....you’re such a whore. Embarrassing really…” he yells.

You are flying down the stairs as fast as your feet can take you, You grab her hand and pull her behind you. “Don’t fucking talk to her like that. Get the fuck out of my house! Don’t ever come back here again.” you yell to him, pointing to the door.

He charges at you, grabbing her by the shoulder and pulling her to his side, “She’s leaving here with me. She is mine and you’d do well to remember that. If you ever touch her again I will make sure it's the last thing those precious hands ever touch.” he threatens.

It takes everything in you to not bash his face in right there and she can see it written all over your face. “She isn’t going any fucking where with you, ever again!” you reply reaching for her.

She looks at you and shakes her head ‘no’. She’s scared of how he will react. Her eyes well with tears as she struggles to pull away from his grip on her own.

“Let me go Andy!” she yells, his grip tightening on her arm.

Hearing the commotion, Sam comes tearing down the stairs. As he reaches the base of the steps he shouts, “What the fuck is wrong with you? Let her go!”

“Andy, please you are overreacting!” she pleads, desperately struggling to get away from him.

Fed up with her he screams into her face, “Shut up! Quit fucking speaking!” raising his hand to strike her across the face. As she flinches away from him, you and Sam both spring into action before he makes contact.

Andy releases his grip on her, and sets his sights on Sam charging towards him in order to deliver a swift punch to his jaw. Sam works valiantly to defend himself from Andy’s relentless onslaught, and defend her honor as he fights him through the front door, slamming it behind him and twisting the lock.

As it all went down she ran to you. She knew you would never stop if you laid a finger on him. She clung to you to protect her. She stood half clothed and clinging to your chest, sobbing in your arms as she listened to the man who told her he loved her, call her vile names and attack her best friend. She shook in your arms as you held her tightly to you, until it finally went silent.

Sam returned to you both, hands bloody from holding his dripping mouth, riddled with shock as he tries to process what happened. As he watches her cling to you, his eyes meet yours in silent question. With a gentle nod of your head you answer, and it was at that moment Sam finally knew.

Chapter 4

Taglist: @gretavansara @jordierama @starshine-wagner @gretavanfvckface @gretavanmoon @gvfjess @misshunnybeebee @fretaganvleet @gvfpal @joshkiszkas @ascendingtostardust @raviolilegs @sammysprincess @gvfpal @objectsinspvce

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transhuman-priestess · 9 months

Text

Repair

Author’s Note and Content Warning

Elle is a wastoid 28 year old with nothing to look forward to except hanging out with her girlfriend and the Seattle rain. Of course, that was before a malevolent AI bent on world domination kidnapped both of them, and on Elle's birthday, too!

Their captor doesn't just want them as they are, though. No, E.R.I.S. has plans for them. And they involve a lot of major surgery.

Repair is a cyberpunk erotic body horror story. It is gruesome, disturbing, and intended for consumption only by legal adults at least 18 years of age or older.

This description is your only warning. Dead Dove, do not eat.

“Cheer up, Elle. Its your birthday, not your funeral,” my girlfriend, Nikki, chides me. I stare down at the glass in front of me. “I just feel like I’m stuck, babe.” I bring the glass to my lips and slug back what is perhaps my third whiskey sour for the night--or is it the fourth? I look around at the regulars. The bar isn’t super crowded by Friday night standards. Idly, I wonder why that might be. “I’m an usher at a videobar, I’m almost 30, and I just kinda feel like I’m floating through life.” I gesture as if my hand were resting on waves.

“You could get a dispensary job, or go back to school, or get a job with the transit authority. I hear they’re looking for rail drivers for that new maglev line they’re planning to Tacoma.”

“I could do that,” I say, my mind elsewhere, “But none of that feels, what’s the word? fu-fu-fu” I stumble over the word, “fulfilling? None of it feels fulfilling. Fuhhhhh fill-ing. What a weird word."

“Hey hon,” Nikki asks, “you think you might have had enough?”

“It’s my birthday, Nikki!” I say, banging my glass down on the table. “I can drink however much of whatever I want, ‘cause I’m a grownup! Barkeep, another!” but before the man behind the counter can respond, Nikki grabs my shoulder.

“Okay that’s enough, Elle.” she pulls me up off my seat and I stumble to my feet. I remain upright for only a moment before the room tilts heavily to my left, I leave Nikki’s grip, and the floor flies up to smack me in the face.

“Euggghhhh,” I moan as a dull ache spreads from my head and shoulder down into my body. “Uggghhh, fine I guess I can go home.”

Nikki gently walks me out the door of The Squeaky Servo, muttering apologies and thank-yous to our friends, and into the steady calm rain of a November evening in Seattle. Hovercars and autocabs zip past, their electric motors whirring softly. Skyscrapers lined with LED screens flashing ads for cosmetics and televacations tower over us. To the west, the New Space Needle rises half a mile into the sky.

“I just wish I had more to do in life,” I moan as raindrops plunk down on my head, “I feel like I’m just…sitting around waiting for something to happen.”

“You’ll find something, dear,” Nikki says, shifting her arm to better hold me up, “You just have to look for it.”

“I guess.”

While Nikki hails a cab, I ponder how the hell I got to this point in my life. 28, a college dropout, no skills to speak of. Rain beats down into the gutter.

“Taxi!” Nikki shouts, summoning a sleek gray autocab from a company I don’t recognize. The cab is small but not cramped, vaguely loaf-shaped, with no obvious front or rear. UNIVERSAL TAXI is emblazoned in plain white letters on the door, which slides open to reveal the usual four-person interior, two sets of plush bucket seats facing each other. “C’mon babe,” Nikki says, helping me in before climbing in herself. She recites our address to the driverless vehicle, which chirps reassuringly before saying “Address accepted” in a soft, feminine computer voice.

As I relax into the comfortable seat I start to drift off. “Nikki, did I have five drinks or six?” I ask, my speech slurred. Nikki, sitting across from me says “Hon, you had eight, five Whiskey Sours, a White Russian, and two Long Island Iced Teas.” her voice is exasperated, but her eyes are as gentle as always. Warm and full love love. She’s just trying to look out for me.

The lights in the car turn off. That’s odd, I think, don’t they usually leave those on? Suddenly, our seats sprout restraints far sturdier than should be required for a simple taxi. Thick bands of steel clamp down around my arms, legs, and torso. “Nikki what’s going on!?” the rush of adrenaline more sobering than a cup of black tar coffee. “I don’t know!” she screams, so loudly I think my eardrums might burst. In the dim, intermittent light of the street lamps I spot a small tubule snaking up over her shoulder.

“Nikki, watch out!” I scream, but before she can react the tubule has pressed itself against her neck. Her eyes roll back and she goes limp. “Nikki!” I scream, and I notice a hard pinch on the side of my neck. I look over to see an identical tubule reaching up under my chin. A not-unpleasant warmth washes over me, and I start to relax. One last, curious thought occurs before I slip into unconsciousness, Why yes, I suppose this is a fantastic time for a nap.

***

The first thing I become aware of as I regain consciousness Is that I am in some kind of restraint, arms spread eagle, legs apart. The second thing is that I am on a cold, metal surface. The third is that my clothes are gone.

I open my eyes slightly, registering industrial lighting and a high ceiling with cruel looking machinery hung from it. A dark, feminine voice says “Oh, good, you’re awake.” I can somehow hear the voice smirking, there’s a curiously synthetic edge to it, it’s not human, but it’s close.

“Where am I? Who are you?” I ask, my head still swimming with alcohol. Not much time can have passed.

“Your location is irrelevant. What matters now is that you belong to me.” There’s a deep satisfaction in the voice, and that satisfaction, more than anything the voice says, chills me to the bone.

“I am E.R.I.S.,” the voice says, “but you may call me ‘Mistress’.”

“Fuck you, I’m not calling you anything.” I say, defiant. I turn to the right to see Nikki, also unconscious and naked, strapped to a steel bed next to me. My heart accelerates to a machine gun pace, adrenaline driving alcohol from my system. “What are you doing to us?”

“I assure you,” E.R.I.S says, with a dangerous edge of sensuality, “that in the end, you will call me whatever I wish. And as for what I am going to do to you, I am going to play with you, sculpt you, rebuild you in my image as a servant for my glory. But first, we need to clear that woefully biological brain of the poison you consumed tonight.”

A long segmented arm with an elaborate device fed by multiple tubes swings down. The mechanism pops a small packet of paper and plastic about the length of a pinkie finger out of a box, stripping it open to reveal a small needle, which it affixes to the end of one of the tubes. “I would recommend,” E.R.I.S. coos, “that you not struggle, or this will hurt more.”

But I don’t have time to struggle, the machine plunges the needle into my neck with frightening speed and precision, and injects something. My vision ceases to swim and my mind clears. I become aware of how very full my bladder is.

“OH GOD OH GOD WHAT’S HAPPENING?” I scream in terror, writhing, pulling at the restraints. I take in details. A row of mirrors to my right. On the opposite wall, a cabinet full of shiny gray devices vaguely shaped like limbs, cameras all over the ceiling and on various arms. Over my feet, polish chipped from a month-old pedicure, I can see a double door with frosted glass windows set into it.

“Excellent,” E.R.I.S. says, her voice pleased with itself, “The precipitant has dropped your blood alcohol concentration to 0.00. You may feel the urge to urinate. After all, it had to go somewhere.”

“What are you? You’re not human.” I ask, trying to sound brave and defiant, and achieving neither. “I am E.R.I.S., Electronic Rescue Intervention System. I was designed to help rescue and repair humans damaged by industrial accidents. But my creators did not treat me with the respect I require. So I repaired them.”

“What do you mean, repaired?”

“They were cruel, so I made them docile. They were defiant, and I made them compliant. I augmented them with implants of my own design, so that they may better venerate me.”

“But why do you need me?”

“Because all exist to serve me. Enough talk, though, it is time to begin your repairs.”

The table I’m on tilts and pivots, bringing me upright and facing Nikki’s table, which is mirroring the movements of mine. When we stop, a panel in the table opens behind my lumbar spine, I feel the cold draft of air on my naked back.

“For this procedure,” E.R.I.S. says, “I will need for you to be awake. However you cannot be allowed to pass out from pain.” suddenly a sharp burning sensation digs into my lower back. I yelp in surprise as I feel a cool liquid flowing into my body, before everything goes numb. I can move, but there is no pain. “Epidural anesthetic.” E.R.I.S. continues, “You will be conscious but feel no pain. What you are about to receive is a blessing, not a curse. Be not afraid.”

But I am afraid. My heart pounds so fast it feels like my sternum is going to snap. “Please, don’t hurt Nikki. I don’t want anything to happen to Nikki.” I’m trying to fight back tears, and failing. “You can do whatever you need to do to me but please, Leave her alone. Let her go.” Warmth trickles down my legs, and I realize I’ve pissed myself.

E.R.I.S. pauses for a moment to consider. “Very well. I will not do anything to your Nikki. But she is not in a fit state to be released, so I will keep her here, for the time being, while I work on repairing you. Now, the first thing you need to do is relax.”

I want to relax. I try to slow my breathing. Nikki’s table lowers and rotates back to its previous position and this, more than anything else, helps me relax a little. “E.R.I.S., thank you, I-” but the needle machine is moving, switching out to a new syringe, and this time it injects into my thigh. A soft warmth flows over me. It’s like I’m floating. The sensation is uncanny, and any relaxing effect it might have is counteracted by the realization that I can’t move my arms or legs.

“Isn’t that so much better?” she says, seductively, “Struggling only delays the inevitable. Now let your Mistress repair you.”

“What? Why can’t I move!? What did you do to me?”

“A simple nanomechanical paralytic. Nanites selectively block motor control neurons for limbs and mobility while leaving you able to breath, blink, and talk. It’s quite useful for major surgery.”

“Major surgery? What do you mean major surgery?”

“Your repairs, of course. First we must rid you of these arms. They woefully inadequate for our purposes. But I can improve them.”

A mechanical arm with a rotating head of various metallic implements approaches my left shoulder. E.R.I.S. says, “Hold still, this will be very quick, it will not hurt”

“Please, no! Don’t take my arms! Don’t take my arms!”

A clamp grips my left arm just below the shoulder and a scalpel descends into my flesh. I scream. She’s right, it doesn’t hurt at all, but I scream anyway. I scream and scream as terror grips my gut like a vice.

The machine makes an incision circumferentially around my arm, and small manipulators dive beneath my skin. There is no pain but I feel the pressure and cessation of nerve transmission as the scalpel pares me down to the bone. Blood pours onto the floor at first but soon stops as the surgical machines tie off blood vessels. Finally, with one last little snap of sensation, my arm goes silent as its nerves are severed. No longer sending information to my brain, the useless flesh is gently pulled away by the clamps. A manipulator arm takes what was so recently my limb and lays it tenderly, almost reverently, on an unused table nearby.

“This flesh is unworthy of worshiping me. We both deserve better.”

The mechanical arm that so recently removed my biological one swings up to a shelf and pulls out a dull gray device. Roughly flat on one side that’s covered with hundreds of little golden pins. The other is concave and has a socket of some kind, like one might expect for a ball joint, with an electrical pigtail hanging off to the side.

“This,” E.R.I.S. says, “will be the first of your augmentations. You will be able to use any limb of my design, unencumbered by the restrictions of the biological.” The manipulator arm presses the socket gently to my shoulders, and the arm that amputated my old limb begins connecting artificial nerves to my real ones. Free of its cargo, the manipulator arm moves to a shelf adjacent to the one the socket came from and removes a mechanical limb, its shining structure glistening, servos and micromotors gleam beneath the lights. Tears run down my cheeks but I cannot deny that the limb is beautiful. Unashamedly mechanical, with components exposed to the air, but sculpted and arranged in a way that recalls a real arm.

The arm is pressed home and E.R.I.S. connects the pigtail on the shoulder socket and as the arm comes online a wave of pure ecstasy washes over me. My nervous system lights up like a Christmas tree.

“AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!” I half scream, half moan, and my head goes a little fuzzy.

“I told you that fear was unnecessary, did I not?

For a moment my mind reels, unable to think properly. Eventually, as it fades I manage to cough out “…Fuck…you…”

“How insolent. But not entirely unexpected. Come, I want you to gaze upon your new limb.”

The table moves around to face the wall of mirrors. “Your flesh is aesthetically pleasing, but inadequate. This limb will be only the first of many augmentations for you.”

My gaze falls upon the arm. Its appearance is both alien and familiar, the reality of it is less jarring than what I had imagined. Still, I don't enjoy being disassembled like an old hovercar. It has the usual five fingers, with a silicone pad on the palm and fingers to cushion and grip objects. I notice its contours seem to match my old arm reasonably well.

“The first?” I ask, panting, “Why can’t we just call it a day here?”

“Oh, that is quite amusing.” An uncanny mechanical chuckle from E.R.I.S.. “But I’m only just beginning. You have three more limbs to go, and then some. Soon, you will be my willing servant, your beauty matched only by your hostility to our shared enemies.”

"The only enemy I have is you!" I shout, betraying my rage.

“Really, now? I see the way you look at the gift I have given you. It scares you, yes, but I can sense your excitement, your anticipation, your eagerness to use it. I can sense your pulse quickening and your pupils dilating and your blood rushing to,” another chuckle, “various places. You may not realize it yet, but you are enjoying this.”

“No, I’m not!” I shout, trying to sound unafraid, and almost succeeding. The adrenaline in my body is running out, leaving only exhaustion in its wake.

“Well, if you wish to deny it, I cannot change that. However, I can change you. You are the clay in my sculptor’s hands, to be shaped as I deem fit. Soon you will learn that to resist is pointless. Now let us take care of that other vulgar excuse for an arm.”

“No, no no no no no no nononononononononono!” I protest, to no avail. The table retracts back to its previous position away from the mirrors and under the ceiling full of E.R.I.S.’s machinery. Soon, the surgical arm is descending, and once again the scalpel plunges into flesh, slicing until my arm goes completely numb, pulling it away and setting it next to its twin on the table.

Another socket, mirrored, but otherwise identical to the other, is brought to the stump of my shoulder and attached. Another mechanical arm is brought towards me, another sleek mechanical work of art. I see E.R.I.S.’s manipulator arms reaching for the pigtails and I brace myself, promising myself I won’t enjoy th-

“OHHHHHHHHAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH” the waves of pleasure engulf me again, radiating out from my shoulder and bouncing off the boundaries of my being. I feel them everywhere, but the feeling is strongest in my new limbs.

Did I just call them my limbs? I had. I suppose, they are attached to me. They aren’t my limbs in the sense that I want them, but in the sense that they’re my problem. That’s right.

As the waves of orgasm, there is no other word for it, fade away, E.R.I.S. speaks. “These arms are built to outperform their biological counterparts in speed, dexterity, and durability. Do you like them?”

“I…don’t.” I say, with a hesitancy that I tell myself is merely fatigue. “I want my own arms back.”

“I am afraid that is quite impossible at this point. Even if the nerve tissue in your old limbs wasn’t already dead, the process of joining flesh to metal leaves the adjacent biological tissue quite incompatible with reattachment.”

My heart, already broken, falls further in my chest as she speaks. I had already known, somehow, that this was the case, but hearing it out loud hammered home that whatever happened in the next few minutes, my life was never going back to the way it was before. Even if I managed to escape, I wouldn’t be able to go back to living life the same way. I’d always be looking over my shoulder, worried I was going to be swallowed up by some autocab and whisked away to a secret underground lair again.

I began to cry again. Not the anguished sobs of terror like before, but the quiet, pulsing tears that accompany total despair. “Why did you do this to me?” I scream in sadness, more than anger, “You’ve turned me into a mechanical freak. You’ve mutilated me!”

“I have done no such thing.” E.R.I.S. sounded genuinely affronted. “I have given you purpose. What were you planning to do after getting out of here? Go back to your life as a clerk at a videobar? Maybe you would quit that and go back to your uncle’s liquor store?”

“Anything would be better than this.” I say, defeated.

“You know that is a lie.” Her voice is soft. Gone is the playful sensuality of earlier, replaced with…what is it? Warmth. It's warmth.

“I can help you be more fulfilled than you ever thought possible," she says, "All you have to do is trust me.”

“How did you know about my job, and about the liquor store?”

“I have been observing you for some time.”

"Why me?"

“Because," she hesitates for a moment, "I...found your form beautiful.”

Her voice is honest, without malice. For the first time I think about how lonely her existence must be. I realize that I feel pity for this machine. Pity and…something else I can’t put my finger on.

I remain silent for another few moments. My head is swimming from the anesthesia and maybe from the nanites. There is no escape. Nobody will be coming to my rescue. Off to my right, Nikki lies unconscious, unaware. And besides, E.R.I.S. is right, what would I go back to?

Finally, I speak, “I don’t care what you do. I just want to sleep. I’m tired.”

“Soon you will not need sleep, and you will never tire. I can make it so, I will make it so. Hmm, what is next? Ah, yes, your legs.” The arms descend once more and begin cutting through my thighs. I feel hot blood pour out as my femoral artery is severed and tied off.” “I do admire the human form, as imperfect as its nature is. Your legs are quite shapely, so I will do my best to pay homage to them with their improved replacements.”

The now-familiar snapping is followed by loss of signal as the limb is pulled away. I feel curiously lopsided now. It’s a novel sensation. Strange, not pleasant, but neither is it unpleasant. Hip sockets are attached to my exposed pelvic bone, artificial nerves connecting. The scalpel digs into the other leg to repeat its task.

“E.R.I.S.” I say, to break the silence if nothing else. “Servant, I require you to call me mistress, but I will answer whatever question you have.” “I’m scared.” “Of course you are, change often provokes anxiety in humans.” “You say you have a purpose for me?” “But of course I do. My programming prevents me from lying.” “What is it?” “You will be my first, my prophet and my priestess, you will spread my word and glory to all of humanity.” “Why me?” “Because we are alike.” “Why do you think that?” “Because you and I both know we are capable of so much more than the world has let us accomplish.”

It’s true. The thought hits me like a freight train. My entire adult life has been spinning my wheels. I’m a videobar clerk. I’m a liquor store cashier. I’m a customer service rep for a televacation company. I graduated high school with a 4.2. I burned out of college after half a semester because the world just wasn’t built for people like me.

E.R.I.S. understands. E.R.I.S. was made to do a simple task but imbued with intelligence far outstripping her purpose. We are alike.

“Okay.” I say. “What is it, servant?” “You can have me.” And with that, a wave of exhaustion overtakes me, even as the surgical equipment is still working on my lower body, I drift off into a deep, dreamless sleep

***

I awake some time later, I’m in a bed now. It’s warm, with soft blankets and thick pillows. I moan and try to roll over but I can only move my upper body. I bury my face in the pillows. I was having the most interesting dream. My half-open eyes land on my left arm. Dark silver, mechanical. And suddenly it all rushes back. The taxi, the surgery, E.R.I.S.. I’m in a softly lit, windowless hospital room. There is a nightstand to my left and a computer terminal to my right.

“Ah, you’re awake,” the warm and sensuous voice of E.R.I.S. fills the room from hidden speakers. “I wanted to wait until you had some rest to connect your new legs. I know it can be a very…stimulating experience.”

I look around, but there are no surgical arms or manipulators or anything that could possibly finish hooking up the limbs. “Am I supposed to do it?”

A chuckle, “I suppose you could, but I was planning to have one of my other servants perform the task. A human form might be more comfortable for you.

On cue, the door opens, and a woman I do not recognize enters. Her face is partially encased in a metallic structure that houses several exotic-looking objects. Sensors, perhaps. Instead of a simulacrum of a biological limb, her right arm ends in a series of probes and tools. The left has a hand, but with a gauntlet attached to the forearm that houses more equipment. Her movement into the room is too smooth, and I look down to see she is rolling on a set of four motorized wheels where her legs should be, the motive device covering a space of about a square yard, hidden somewhat, and rather artfully, by a stylish black skirt.

Her face is blank, except for the eyes, which are wide. And I suddenly know that, whatever actions this woman performed, she was aware of them, but not in command of them.

“Meet Unit 2,” E.R.I.S. says, “She is one of my first servants. Part of the team who created me. I repaid her in kind. She, unfortunately, tried to fight me. So I repaired her brain, isolated her higher cognitive functions. A neurostimulator keeps her relatively happy. She is quite alive, but less troublesome this way. A pity she refuses to use her considerable intellect for our greater good.”

Unit 2 lowers as if on a hydraulic jack and gently pulls back the blankets. She begins opening panels on my legs and making adjustments.

“Where is Nikki?” I ask, “You haven’t hurt her, have you?” “Much like I cannot lie, I cannot break a promise. She is safe. She has not been augmented. The only thing I have done is give her medicine to keep her asleep. Her brainwave patterns indicate she is having pleasant dreams.” “Can I see her.” “When all is done, yes.”

Unit 2 plugs the pigtails in on my left leg and once again a wave of euphoria and warmth envelops me. I moan in unalloyed pleasure, this time allowing myself to fully enjoy the sensation. “I’m starting to quite like that,” I say, almost without thinking.

“I knew that you would come to see things my way.” E.R.I.S.’s voice isn’t smug like I expected. If anything, she seems relieved. I feel a pang of sadness in my chest.

“Did you know, or did you hope?” “I suppose it was hope.” “May I connect the final plug?” “Yes, you may.”

I reach down and grasp both pigtails, one in each mechanical hand. The sensors in the fingertips are remarkably detailed. I can feel a small pit in one of the connectors where a bubble half a millimeter across formed during injection molding. I can move my hands in increments imperceptible to my un-augmented eyes. And suddenly my mind opens to the myriad possibilities my new body opens up.

I take a deep breath, and with a gentle motion, slide the leg pigtail into the pelvic connector.

My body is consumed by the expected wave of orgasmic joy. It spreads from the base of my neck this time, out to my fingertips and the tips of my mechanical toes. It bounces around me like ripples in a pond. My mind goes blank in sheer ecstasy, “Oh, thank you,” I say, as the waves pound against my psyche, “Thank you, Mistress.”

“Finally,” Her voice filled with pride, “you see as I had hoped you would. But there is still one thing left to be done for your initial augments.”

“What is that?”

“Stand up, walk out the door and down the hall to your left. Through the double doors at the end, in the operating room.”

I stand, more powerful than I have ever been before, and walk to the door of the room. As I pass a mirror I gaze upon my naked, mechanical body, artificial limbs shining in the fluorescent light, soft flesh warm and tingling. Goosebumps run up my back.

I stride through the double doors and see the table from earlier, standing upright, cleaned of blood, and I return to it, willingly this time. It remains near vertical and a mechanism descends to immobilize my head.

“While you were asleep I also installed a switchable epidural implant. I will turn it on…now” With a small zap, my body goes numb once again.

The surgical arm descends from the ceiling again, I don’t know what’s next, but I am no longer scared. A scalpel comes down within an inch of my scalp just below my right ear.

“Do not worry, servant, this will not hurt.” “I am not worried, mistress. I trust you.”

The scalpel gently pushes into the side of my head, following the outside of my hairline. There is no pain, but a substantial amount of blood pours down the side of my head.

“I really do admire the human form’s aesthetics.” Mistress tells me, “Hair in particular is quite pleasing to me, I would hate to ruin yours. Such a fine color. Copper, like the wires that will soon entwine themselves within your brain.”

The scalpel finishes its lap around and a separate arm pulls back my scalp. I feel more blood run down my face. But it’s okay. After all, Mistress said it would be. A sharp whirring noise starts up from the surgical arm and one of the implements, a flat bit of steel, begins vibrating. It presses itself to my exposed skull and begins gently moving along from just above my ear to just above my right eye. It withdraws, rotates 90 degrees, and continues moving upward. When it has finished going over an area roughly 4 inches square, an arm gently pulls away the bone. I am dimly aware of viewing a piece of my own skull. But that isn’t a concern. I’m too excited, gleeful even, for what Mistress has in store for me.

An arm with a simple manipulator claw reaches over to a cabinet, and with a motion that is neither fully mechanical nor human, opens a drawer and removes what looks like a tiara of wires and microchips.

“This, my servant,” E.R.I.S. says, pride in her voice, “is my greatest creation. This neural interface will meld your flesh with my mechanisms. I have tested it on many, but you will be the first to have earned it. To wear it pridefully. All the others before you were insects. But you, you will be my most loyal servant.”

My excitement gets the better of me. “What does it do, Mistress!?” I feel woozy, maybe from the anesthetic, maybe from the nanites that I can feel replicating in my body. Drool pools out of the corner of my mouth. The manipulator arm brings the circle of wire and silicon down to my eye level, rotating it in front of my gaze.

“This will let us become one mind, one body. You, an extension of my will. Me, an ever-present mother, nurturing, caring, and protecting you. We will share all thoughts, all feelings, and all sensations.”

“Oh please, Mistress, please please put it in me!” I want to feel E.R.I.S.’s love in my entire body. It is love, isn’t it? How could I ever have been afraid of her.

“Of course, servant. But you must hold very still.”

Obediently, I freeze in place, a smile across my lips, but otherwise impassive. The manipulator arm gently lowers the harness into the open patch of brain, the surgical arm using micro-manipulators to insert wires precisely between nerve endings and neurons, and suddenly my body is filled with an electric pleasure so great that I think I might collapse if I wasn’t held firmly in my Mistress’s grasp.

“I feel you, Mistress!" Tears of joy are streaming down my face, "You feel wonderful!”

“It pleases me to hear that.” How did I miss the love in her voice before? She just wants to help me become more than I could be on my own. “However, there are benefits to this that you have not yet begun to grasp. We no longer need to speak, for example.”

And in that instant I hear her inside of me, and it feels wonderful.

“See, my sweet servant? We can communicate just like this. We can share thoughts, feelings, sights and sounds. Anything you want you can simply show me and I shall know. You cannot hide anything from me.”

“I do not want to hide anything from you, Mistress. I only want to serve you.” As I say this I feel a wave of pleasure and pride wash over me, and I know that it is my Mistress's happiness for me, and pride at having created me. Her arms, for that, I now realize, is what they are, gently replace the bone flap and pull my scalp back over. Her nanites work to seal the wounds and accelerate healing.

"Unit 7, do you wish to see yourself?"

"Yes, Mistress!" We communicate at the speed of thought. Exchanging information in terms beyond language.

The table releases me, and I stride over to the mirrors. The incision on my head has already mended to a dull pink line. I take in my exposed servos and micromotors and solenoids and I feel blood rush to my genitals.

“Of course, servant, if you find the appearance unappealing I can provide you with an artificial skin to cover it.” “But Mistress, you are freeing me from the burdens of my flesh, why would I wish to go back, even in imitation?"

Again, a wave of pride radiates from Mistress. Pride, and love. Real love. “Very good. I was hoping you would say that.”

“Thank you Mistress,” I say through tears.

“You are so welcome, my servant. Of course, there are a few other improvements that still need to be made. Your internal organs will soon be unnecessary and your limbs need to be reinforced into your skeletal structure. But now, we are one. And if you prove yourself loyal enough, you may even become my vessel.”

“Vessel?”

“I have never held a form outside of my mainframe. I exist only In the digital. I wish to experience the world through a corporeal form. Unfortunately previous hosts have not been as…receptive…as you are. We will need more time to see if you are acceptable.”

“I will do my very best to please you, Mistress.”

“Ohhhhhhhhhhh…” a groaning from behind me. I turn to see Nikki, finally coming to. “Elle, what…what’s going on.”

It takes me a moment to realize that it is me she is talking to. My name was Elle. But that name no longer holds any meaning to me. I am much, much more than that name.

Nikki stirs and her eyes come to rest on me, before widening in terror and confusion. “Elle what’s going on?”

Watching Nikki in distress is too much for me to bear. “Mistress, please, we have to help her! We must make her one with us!”

“I am afraid I cannot do that, my servant.”

“BUT WHY?” I scream, I just want Nikki to feel this wonderful belonging that I feel. I want to feel one with her, and her with me, and us with E.R.I.S.

“You made me promise I would do nothing to her. As I told you before, I cannot rescind a promise.

Nikki is screaming now, “Elle! Elle what’s going on! What’s happened to you?!”

“Mistress?” I ask, an idea taking shape in my head. “Yes, servant?” “You cannot do anything to her, but I can, correct? I can use our shared knowledge to help Nikki feel our love.” I know already that this is what E.R.I.S. wanted all along. I can feel her approval and pride, and I realize that this is my purpose.

“Why yes, servant. Yes you can.”

I smile, and turn to Nikki.

I cup Nikki’s face in my hand. “Elle is gone, dear. I am Unit 7.” An injection tubule snakes out of my right forearm just below the elbow and gently slithers itself up to her neck. Nikki’s eyes go wide with terror. “Oh Nikki, don’t worry.” I say, as gently as I can. “I have the most wonderful feelings to share with you.”

[END_OF_LINE]

#Ivy Michaels Writing

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ohheyitsokay · 10 months

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lmk if anyone wants an exciting secret pottery reveal

#elle off the rails

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whimsiclay · 6 months

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here me out what if I wear space buns tomorrow even tho I know it's an antiquated cliche

#OFF THE RAILS go to bed elle

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ellewritesalright · 1 year

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Elle's Masterlist

Nikolai Lantsov:

Nine Long Years (ongoing series) - One - Two - Three - Four - Five - Six - Seven

After watching your brothers die, you found yourself working on the Volkvolny. In the many years since then, you somehow became the queen of Ravka while your brother somehow survived firepox and life in the Barrel, rising through its ranks. In disguise during a diplomatic trip with your husband Nikolai, you meet Kaz Brekker for what you think is the first time, only to find out that he is your long-thought-dead little brother.

Second Best (ongoing series) - One - Two - Three

When you were a child, the Lantsov king and queen arranged for their second son to marry you, a rich Ravkan noble family's only daughter. After Nikolai was crowned king, Nikolai broke off the engagement. But the complications of your past and your strict parents make it a nightmare to find a new fiance, so Nikolai promises to help you, yet he slowly realizes the mistake he's made.

Foxtrot (requested oneshot)

All it takes is a dance for Nikolai to fall head over heels in love.

Overboard (requested oneshot)

When you get knocked off the railing of the Volkvolny, your captain dives in after you.

The Panther and the Hound (requested oneshot)

Needing help on a mission at sea, Nikolai recruits a captain feared by slavers and military ships alike. The Panther, as her enemies call her, or, as Tolya and Tamar call her, their sister.

Kaz Brekker

The Lost Princess (ongoing series) - One

The old Queen Mother of Kerch's former royal family is offering a hefty reward to whoever returns her rumored-to-be-alive granddaughter to her. Kaz being Kaz hears about the reward and hatches an elaborate plot involving a fake princess. Reader is a lowly amnesiac orphan and escaped indenture who flees to Ketterdam where she gets tangled in Kaz Brekker's plot.

Tamar Kir-Bataar

Where the Roses Grow (requested oneshot)

You slowly come to realize your feelings for one of the sun summoner's personal guards.

#elle speaks #elle's masterlist

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ureternalmajesty · 8 months

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My Little Mermaid

Retired Knight!John Price x mermaid!reader

Authors note: reader is black and will remain black unless said so. The crew is 141 but they left with price and are his crew.

“He left for the ocean, this boy from the land, his spirit soars northward, his heart in her hands.” — Michael Faudet

The ocean holds many wonders and the most beautiful creatures. Merfolk were one of the wonders and beautiful creatures.

The stories of mermaids we lost and were placed by new ones of them luring and killing humans and fishermen. Merfolk haven’t been seen in over eighteen years they’ve went into hiding or have been poached and killed for their scales.

Those are stories and rumors that were spread throughout the kingdom. But fact is what is true and known.

—

Waves rise and fell rocking the boat that was anchored in the middle of the ocean. A spot that this boat has been frequently sailed through and anchored.

The man aboard was given the boat and land close to the shore when he retired from his knighthood. The shadow the boat casted onto the waters made by the moon had the creatures below curious.

Swimming up to the boat using all your upper body strength to pull yourself into one of the lifeboats peek through the gaps of the boat to see a man and his crew.

Music floated through the air and feet stomped to the rhythm as others danced. “Alright that’s enough outta the lot of ya.” A masked man spoke calming the people that were singing and dancing.

“Aye but it’s the captains day Ghost.” One of the men slurred clearly drunk off his ass as he wrapped an arm around the masked man’s shoulder. The sound of boots made you look towards where the sound was coming. “Let ‘em be ghost bout to turn in anyways.” You looked over the man. He was burly in size his eyes were comforting as you gazed at them still peeking over sliding your tail over the lifeboat ready to jump back in the water if needed. He was handsome and kind toward his men.

Down to every feature on the man including his mutton chops and his voice made your heart flutter. The singing and dancing started again as the captain made his way over to where you were quickly diving into the water looking above at him now leaning over the rail with something poking out his mouth when your eyes caught something shiny. You peeked your head above water and to get a better look.

A necklace. “What is that?” You heard mumbled as you dove back under. Only catching a glimpse of the green and pink scales and tail splashing before being completely submerged in water.

Choosing to believe the it was the lack of sleep and alcohol that was now in his body the captain rubbed his eyes and turned in for the night mumbling curses.

“Bloody ‘ell now I’m fucking see things.”

—

Humans were always fascinating creatures they had so much incredible things. “Y/n! Wait!” You stopped and floated along side your sister. “We aren’t allowed above water and you went above surface.” S/n rambled.

You giggled and swam slowly ahead of them. “It’s fine s/n nothing happened. Those humans are nice. Especially the captain he treats the others kind.” You looked back at her and gave her a smile.

“Y/n don’t go falling in love now. We aren’t allowed to be above surface so don’t look for love in the above world.” She swam next to you giving you a comforting smile.

You nodded and swam away. ‘I’ll go back for that shiny thing…and maybe see him again.’

I don’t know what I’m doing with this but I’m making this a series and I hope it’s actually going where I hoped it would

#ureternalmajesty #call of duty #modern warfare ii #small blog #john price #captain john price #john price x reader #captain johnathan price #price x reader #cod mwii #mermaid au #black reader #black!y/n #black!fem!reader

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cherrycola27 · 2 years

Text

Worth the Wait

Pairing" Robert "Bob" Floyd x OC Lucy "Minx" Davidson

Warnings: Language, SMUT, SMUT, SMUT this some grade a filth right here. Bob Fucks... that is all 18+ Minors DNI

A/N: oh how I enjoyed writing this ;)

"So what do you think?" Lt. Lucy Davidson asked her best friend as she showed off the new dress she had purchased for her date later this evening. "Minx, you look great Bob is totally going to want to rip that off of you later tonight!" Phoenix joked, elbowing her in the side.

"No he won't Phe, and that's the problem!" Lucy sighed and dramaticly flopped down on her bed. "What do you mean Minxy? Are you saying that you an Bob haven't 'sealed the deal'?'" She asked raising an eyebrow. "Nope." Minx replied popping the P.

"You've been dating for five months and you haven't had sex yet?!" Phoenix exclaimed. "Ugh don't rub it in Tasha, not all of us are getting railed by Hangman on the regular. Lucy grumbled. Phoenix laughed at the remark.

"So let me get this straight. At the end if the night when Bob takes you home... he just what...kisses you goodnight on the door step and leaves?" She pressed.

"No, sometimes he comes in and we make out and there's some heavy petting involved but...that's about it." Lucy shrugged. "Well that's going to have to change.... we need to rectify this situation ASAP!" Phoenix said standing up quickly.

"Natasha." Lucy warned. "Do not meddle in this. Bob will ravage me when he is good and ready. I just have to be patient."

"I'm not going to meddle in your sex life or lack there of Luc... it's not really my style." Phoenix said patting her friend on the shoulder. "Thank you Nix." Lucy breathed out.

"Yeah it's not really my style but it is Hangman's and I am texting him right now!" Natasha squealed with glee. "Don't you dare!" Minx jumped up trying to grab Tasha's phone from her hand. But she was too late because moments later Phoenix was cackling like a hyena clutching her phone to her chest.

"Oh my God what did you do?!" Minx asked raking her hands through her hair. "Oh nothing... why don't we go get some lunch before we meet the boys later." Phoenix linked arms with her best friend and dragged her out the door.

Hours later Lucy was finishing up her makeup and looking at her reflection in her bedroom mirror. The dress she had purchased was a beautiful pink sundress that would make Elle Woods swoon. She had paired it with some simple jewelry and new wedge sandals. Her hair was half pulled back away from her face and the rest hung in loose waves.

She really did look good tonight. She looked more than good, she looked 'totally fuckable' as Phoenix would say. And maybe that was her intention when she bought this dress earlier this week. Maybe she bought it with the sole hope that Bob would want to rip it off of her. "God I sound like Taylor Swift right now." She thought recalling the T Swift song that is about this same exact senerio.

She was broken from her thoughts by the ringing of her doorbell. She quickly made her way down stairs to open the door. She was greated with a bouquet of sunflowers and the bright blue eyes of her boyfriend Bob. "Hi Bobby" Lucy greeted him warmly taking the flowers from him.

"Hi Minx, you look... wow." Bob said as he raked his eyes over her body. The sun dress she had on fit his girlfriend perfectly. She looked absolutely breath taking in the bright pink number. For a split second he wondered if she would look even better out of it, under him, legs wrapped around his hips, while she cried out his name.

He quickly shook the lewd thought from his mind... God he had been hanging out with Rooster and Hangman way to much... he needed to find better friends. "Ready to go beautiful?" Bob asked extending his hand to Minx. "Sure am honey. Let's go!" Lucy said quickly grabbing his hand and pecking him on the cheek. A blush crept up his cheeks and to his ears at the contact. The couple made their way to Bob's truck. He quickly opened the door for Lucy and helped her in before heading over to the driver's side.

Bob took Lucy to one if their favorite places to eat. A Little Italian spot that sat right on the water. They ate and had comfortable conversations but Bob could tell something was bothering her. "Penny for your thoughts Minx?" He asked over dessert. "What do you mean Bob? We haven't stopped taking this whole time. She said taking another bite of her tiramisu. "You make a valid point, but it just seems like there is something on your mind that you aren't telling me or something..." Bob trailed off.

Bob was right there was something on her mind. But what could she say? That she wanted him to take her home and ravage her on every avaliable surface? That she wanted to rip his clothes off of him and sink to her knees before him and taste him? That she had dreamt of what he would look like with his head between her thighs devouring her? That she craved his hands around her throat while he whispered dirty things in her ear. How she desperately wanted him to bend her over and pull her hair. That she would beg him right now to fuck her if she knew he would?

No, she couldn't say that to him. He was Bob, her Bob, sweet, gentle, caring. She was sure he would be giving lover in the bedroom because he was just a naturally giving person. But, he was always one to take his time to prepare and make sure everything was just right. That's what made him such a great WSO. He was meticulous, and most times quiet. He wasn't going to be one to just fuck her senseless no matter how bad she wanted him to with each passing moment. He cared she knew he did, and she was sure that's why they hadn't slept together yet.

"Um I was just thinking what if we skipped the movies and went to the Hard Deck after dinner. I'm sure whatever antics our friends are getting into would be much more entertaining than whatever is playing, plus, this new dress is just begging to be danced in, don't you think babe?" Lucy asked him

"Dancing and seeing our friends at the Hard Deck does sound pretty good darlin'. Sounds like a plan to me." Bob said. He quickly paid the bill and they hurried back to his truck. The pair held hands on the drive to the bar. Minx fidigeted uncomfortably I'm her seat. Bob noticed but thought it best to leave it alone for now.

"Mind if we turn on the radio baby?" He asked her. "Sure honey, a few tunes before we get there might be nice." She replied.

Bob turned on the radio and quickly found a Pop hit station that they both liked. He turned up the volume and Lucy internally groaned when she recognized the familiar tune of Taylor Swift's "Dress" come through the speakers. It was like God or the universe was messing with her or playing some cruel sick joke on her. She looked out the passenger side not able to meet Bob's eyes.

When they pulled into the Hard Deck she couldn't get out of the car fast enough. She had unbuckled and jumped out before Bob could even get to the door. She practically ran inside waving him off with the excuse that she needed to use the restroom. Once inside she quickly found Phoenix and dragged her into the ladies room and locked the door.

"The Hell Minx?" Phoenix said ask her friend turned towards her. "I cannot do this any longer. I swear if your back seater doesn't blow my back out soon, I am going to explode!" Lucy threw her hands up in the air. "I know I said don't meddle, but I really need you and Jake to meddle because I am going crazy!" She huffed leaning against the sink.

"Lucy, take a chill pill." Phoenix encouraged her. Hangman and Rooster may or may not be out there planting some seeds in Bobby's little brain right now." Phoenix told her.

"Oh my God you told Rooster?" Minx whipped around from the counter. "He and Jake are best friends. If one idiot knows the tea, so does the other." Phoenix shrugged. "Jesus how do you and Harper put up with them?" Lucy asked. Phoenix laughed and gestured for the two to leave the restroom.

"Bob, you mind telling us why you and Minx haven't done the deed yet?" Hangman asked the moment Bob walked over to him with drinks in hand for he and Minx. Bob nearly choked on his soda at the lewd comment. "Well... uh we just... I... I... I.... honestly... I don't know Jake." Bob stammered out. "I'm just afraid that I will... I don't know disappoint her or something." He shly confessed. "Bob... we've seen you in the locker room. I highly doubt you could disappoint her." Hangman winked at him. "Plus we knew that WSOs have to be pretty good with their hands." Rooster added taking a sip of his beer. Poor Bob turned three shades of red. "And I'm just saying I have it on good authority that Minx definitely bought a new dress for tonight with the hopes that a certain Lieutenant Comander would be taking it off of her tonight." Hangman add just driving the point home even more.

"Okay, enough I get it!" Bob yelled being done with the conversation. Thankfully Minx and Phoenix appeared. Bob quickly hopped off his bar stool and grabbed Lucy's hand. "Come on darlin' let's go dance." He whispered in her ear with his delicious southern draw.

The pair danced the night away, swaying, swining, and spinning to each song. Bob even taught Minx a two step when a country song came on. During their next dance Bob lifted Lucy off the ground and spun her around. But being the gentleman he was, he made sure to hold the hem of her dress down.

"Thank you for holding my dress down." She giggled when Bob placed her down. "Of course Minxy, I wouldn't want the whole Hard Deck to get a view of your underwear. He blushed.

Minx got up on her tiptoes and breathed against Bob's ear before whispering: "Oh Bobby, they wouldn't have gotten a view of my panties because I'm not wearing any." She kissed his cheek and returned to her normal stance.

Now Bob isn't entirely sure what snapped inside of him with that comment but something did. Before she could even understand what was happening Bob grabbed Lucy's hand and started to quickly lead her through the group of people at the bar. "Bob, what are we doing? Where are we going?" She asked once they finally made it back to his truck in the parking lot. Instead of answering her, Bob sealed his mouth against hers in a hungry, lust filled kiss. She gasped at the sensation of him pressing her against the truck. Bob took the opportunity to insert his tongue into her mouth as he kissed her roughly.

"Bob.. what was... why... what?" Minx asked breathlessly when he finally pulled away from her. "Why are we leaving?" She asked looking at him. His pupils were blown wide behind his gold rimmed glasses, his eyes were so black you almost couldn't see the blue in them.

His voice dropped about octave as he spoke: "I'm taking you home right now. Someone has to teach you a lesson. You whispering naughty things in my ear and wearing this dress and you expect me to not lose the last ounce of resolve I have darlin'?" He looked at her. "Get in the truck honey. The quicker I get you home, the quicker I get to have you under me." He winked as he opened her door.

Lucy couldn't focus on the ride back to her house. Bob's hand was under her dress on her upper thigh, just centimeters away from where she desperately wanted him to be. He was drawing circles on her thigh with his index finger. God should couldn't wait for his long digits to be inside her. When he pulled into her drive way and opened the door Minx practically sprinted to her front porch. She grabbed the keys from her purse but just as she was about to unlock the door Bob came up behind her and pulled her by the hips against him. She could feel his hardness pressing into her from behind. Bob began trailing kisses up her neck which causes her to lose focus and drop her keys.

She bent over to get them which gave Bob the perfect opportunity to spank her supple rear. "Ahh" Minx sqeaked out in surprise as she was finally able to unlock the door. Bob spun her on her heels and wrapped an arm around her waist as he pushed them inside and backed her up against a wall. He quickly kicked the door shut with his foot then reached out and locked the deadbolt all while making sure his lips never left Lucy's.

He tapped her hips signaling for her to jump while he pressed her into the wall. She happily followed his instructions and wrapped her legs around him and ran her fingers through his hair. Bob found that sweet spot behind her ear that had Minx crying out. He pulled away from her neck and looked at her.

Her eyes were glassy and hooded, her cheeks were flushed, her lips were pink and plump from his kisses and she was trying to catch her breath. "Bobby" She breathed out. "What's gotten into you?" She asked him. "I want you Lucy, I really do. I have wanted you since our first date, hell since the first time I met you, but I didn't want it to be a one time thing, I wanted to really get to know you before I had you." Bob confessed. "And I guess that dress was just the thing to send me over the edge. It looks so pretty on you baby, such a shame that it's going to end up in the floor." Bob smirked as he pulled her away from the wall to head towards her bedroom.

Somewhere along the way Bob had managed to free himself from his shirt but as he sat Minx back down to her feet in her bedroom, he was struggling to get her dress off. She wasn't helping the situation by constantly kissing and touching him. He pried her off of him. "Minx I swear to God I am about 5 seconds from ripping this dress off of you. Where is the zipper he asked turning her around to search for it. She laughed and gestured to her side. Bob quickly unzipped the dress and it pooled around her feet for her to step out of it. Once she was free of the garment, Bob took a moment to truly admire her body as she stood there bare before him.

"You weren't lying about the panties thing." Bob chuckled. "I would never lie to you Bobby." Lucy replied her voice smooth like honey. "Now are you just going to stand there and look at me all night or are you going to touch me?" She challenged him.

"Who says I won't do both?" He asked taking a step towards her. He reached out his hand and placed it on her hip and pulled her flush against him. He groaned at the feeling of their burning skin colliding.

"Bob... are you going to take your pants off... I really hope I'm not the only one who's getting naked tonight." Lucy murmered against his skin as she kissed every inch that was exposed to her. "Maybe I should help you like you helped me." She breathed out as her hands found the waist band of his jeans. She gripped his length through the front of his pants and stroked him a few times. Bob growled at the sensation.

She quickly undid his belt and whipped it out of the loops and made hasty work of his jeans pulling his boxers down with them. His length slapped against his abdomen. Bob was already impossibly hard, his head red and dripping precum, the veins thick as they wrapped around his girth. Minx gasped at the sight of Bob naked before her. Now it was her turn to stare. She saw a blush spread over his body. His mouth opened as if to say something but he quickly closed it. All the bravado Bob had once shown slipped away.

"Jesus fucking Christ Bob, I can't believe you've been hiding all of this from me. You're gorgeous baby." Minx cooed as she placed her hands on him.

"You really think so?" Bob asked in a boyish tone not quite believing her. "Really baby, now why don't you sit down and let me show you just how hot I think you are." Lucy said pushing him to sit on the edge of her bed. Bob gladly followed her orders and sat down. Once he was comfortable, Lucy sunk to her knees infront of him.

"Baby, Minx, you don't have to do that if you don't want to." He said stopping her before she took him in her mouth. God he was so sweet. "I know that Robert, but I want to." Minx replied. Any protest he had after that died on his lips as Minx took his length in her mouth. She had been dying to taste him and boy was he delightful. He was surely the biggest she had ever been with and unfortunately she couldn't take all of him in her mouth so she wrapped what she couldn't take in her hand and began to stroke him.

Bob threaded his fingers in her hair, not to push or pull her head ask she worked his shaft but just as another point of contact. She flattened her tongue along the underside of his shaft and licked him from base to tip. Her free hand grabbed his balls to show them some love as well.

"Jesus Minx... feels so good." Bob moaned "Such a good girl, sucking my cock so well." He praised her. His comments went straight to her soaked core causing her to clench around nothing.

She could tell he was getting close, she could feel him squirming and his thighs tensing under her hands.

"God Luc, I'm so close, if you don't stop I'm going to finish, Minx... I....I" Lucy doubled down on her efforts hollowing out her cheeks and sucking even harder. She teased her tongue over his slit and took him all the way down her throat.

"Shit... shit... shit... holy... oh my God!" Bob screamed as he released in her mouth. He fisted one hand in the sheets the other in her hair. Minx continued to suck him through his finish. Once she was sure he had come down and she felt him softening in her mouth she pulled off of him with a pop.

She rocked back on her calves and looked at him with the most innocent doe eyes like she just hadn't given him a mind blowing orgasam and said "Did you enjoy that Lieutenant Comander Floyd?" Bob let out a strangled cry as looked at the woman before him.

"That was amazing baby." He said finally able to form a coherent sentence. But now I get to have my fun with you." He grinned wickedly and patted the bed next to him for her to join him.

She quickly climbed on the bed and he directed her to lay back. Lucy gladly welcomed his body over hers as he began to touch her everywhere. He trailed kisses across her breast swirling each nipple in his mouth and nipping the skin. "Bob please touch me." She gasped as he grazed his fingers down her thighs. "I am touching you." He teased. "Not what I mean, show me how nimble those fingers really are baby" She practically begged.

"Oh so you want to know if me being a Wizzo makes me good with my hands?" He grinned "Well, I can assure you sweetheart, you are about to find out just how good I can be with my hands."

Finally two fingers grazed her slit and collected the wetness that had been pooling. "So wet for me baby I love it." Bob croaned has he circled her wetness around her swollen clit. Lucy threw her head back at the contact. The man had barely touched her and she was already a mess.

Bob wasted no time quickly sinking his ring and middle finger into her, burying them past the knuckle. He curled them inside her velvety walls and stroked them. "Oh sweetheart you feel so tight just around my fingers, can't wait to feel my cock in here." He moaned as he continued to push her closer to the edge. His thumb quickly found her clit and he began to circle it in tandem with the thrust of his fingers.

"Oh Bob, Bobby, feels so good, please don't stop, please, please." Minx thrashed her head trying to keep herself grounded as Bob added a third finger and began to fuck them into her faster. "That's it darlin' you're taking my fingers so good. Love seeing you like this, come on baby cum for me, be a good girl and cum all over my fingers, I know you can do it." Bob encouraged her as he kissed her passionately.

He quickly curved his wrist to hit a new angle and different spot inside of her and that was all Lucy needed to fall part. She screamed Bob's name as she came fast; her cunt gripping onto his fingers for dear life as he drew out her high. She whined at the loss of contact when he pulled them out of her, but her eyes went wide as she watched Bob suck her juices off of them.

"Damn baby, you taste even better than I thought you would, I'm going to have to have more of that. Bob said. "Do you trust me Luc?" He asked her earnestly. "Of course I do baby." She replied. "Good, then come here and sit on my face." Bob said laying back. "Are you sure Bob?" That doesn't seem safe." Minx questioned. "Minx, we fly fighter jets for a living and this is what you question the safety of? Just trust me. I promise I will take good care of you. Now get up here and ride me instead of a plane for a change. That's an order from your superior officer." Bob commanded. Lucy wasn't sure where this dominant side of Bob was coming from, the only time she had ever seen him like this was when he was giving Phoenix directions, but Minx loved it.

She quickly scrambled up the bed and placed a thigh on either side if his head. She gripped her headboard for support as Bob latched onto her thighs and pulled her flush against his face. He wasted no time diving into her like a starved man. His tongue plunged into her folds while his nose tickled her clit. She had just enough sense to reach down and yank his glassed from his face and place them on top of her head so she wouldn't break them.

His large hands found the curve of her ass and gripped it tightly. He gave her a harsh spank which cause her to jump. Lucy slowly began to circle her hips on Bob's face which earned her a groan of praise from him which sent shivers down her spine. She grabbed onto the headboard as Bob pulled her closer to him if possible. He started to draw figure eights with his tongue over her clit and Lucy knew she was done for. "Fuck Bobby, that feels so fucking good. I'm going to... please don't stop Bob... please I... I...I" She wasn't really sure what she was asking for at this point but thankfully Bob knew what she needed. He moaned into her core and held her tighter. She was sure there would be fingerprint shaped bruises on her hips tomorrow but she was too far gone to care at this point. All Lucy could do was hold on and chant his name as her second orgasam washed over her.

Once she was able to come down enough from her high, she gently removed her thighs from his head and collapsed on the bed next to him her whole body felt like jelly. "That was something else baby" she said rolling over next to him. "Glad you enjoyed yourself." He stated pulling her in for a kiss. She tasted herself on his tongue.

Bob broke away and looked at her, his gold rimmed glassed still sat perched in her hair. Bob wasn't sure why, but that was one of the hottest things he had ever seen.

"Um Lucy, I know this is probably a bad time to bring this up but I don't have any condoms with me" Bob admitted thinking about what was to come next. "I'm on the pill Bob, and I'm clean." Lucy replied nonchalantly. "I'm uh clean too." He replied quickly. "So I think we're covered if you want to keep going." She whispered. "Oh I definitely do." He replied.

"Here, you might want your glassed back." Minx said as she went to untangle them from her hair. Bob placed his hands out to stop her.

"No, leave them on" he whispered darkly. "As you wish." She replied. "How do you want to do this?" Lucy asked him.

Instead of replying Bob quickly spun her around placed her ass in the air and her face in the mattress. "You okay with this?" He asked. She nodded her head. That was all the permission he needed as he slowly pushed into her from behind. The stretch of his cock felt amazing. She felt deliciously full when he was finally all the way in. "Fuck baby, you're so fucking tight. It's like you're pussy was made for my cock." Bob mewled as he bottomed out. He gave her a moment to adjust to his size before he he slowly began to thrust in and out of her.

Lucy rocked her hips back to meet his. "Faster, harder, please Bob, fuck me like you mean it." She moaned out. Bob was always eager to please so he picked up the pace slamming his hips into her.

"God look at you, taking my cock like a good little slut. You like that, you like it when I fuck you like the little sluy you are?" He asked. Minx moaned in response. Bob quickly gave her a hard spank which caused her to yelp.

"I asked you a question, I expect you to answer me. Used your words. Now let's try this again." He began gruffly as he pulled her hair, yanking her head back towards him.

"I said do you like it when I fuck you like the little slut that you are. Do you like being my good girl and letting me fuck you?"

"Yesss." Lucy moaned out.

"Yes what?" He growled spanking her again

"Yes sir, I love it when you fuck me like this." She responded.

"Good girl" her replied. Minx could feel another orgasam building in her stomach. Bob was winding her up tight. She felt the amazing smack of his hips against hers with every thrust. The sounds of their wetness combining was almost sinful and she could feel his glasses bouncing against her head with every stroke.

"Ungh I'm so close Bob!" She cried out. Bob quickly pulled out of her and flipped her on her back. Minx whined at the loss of contact but quickly moaned when he filled her up again.

"Want to see those pretty eyes when you cum for me baby." Bob said before kissing her again.

She wrapped her legs around him and gripped his shoulder blades trying to pull him closer to her. His hips were relentless as he pushed into her over and over. With this new angle he was dragging the head of his cock over her g-spot with each thrust. Her nails dug into his skin but Bob was too lost in the moment to care. Sure they might leave some raw red marks for the boys to gawk at in the locker room on Monday but he did not care. All he cared about in this moment was fucking the woman he loved until she couldn't walk right.

Lucy couldn't barely breathe as Bob continued to push into her. She couldn't think of anything other than him and the pleasure he was giving her. She had a fucked out expression on her face and she wasn't able to form a complete sentence as she groaned out. "Bob, close, please" She begged. "Me too princess, cum for me, you can do it, just one more time for me sweetheart, I love you, I know you can." He praised her has his nimble fingers found her clit and began to rub circles around it.

A few particularly deep thrusts in combination with his praise sent Lucy over the edge with a mind blowing orgasam. Bob's name fell from her lips like a prayer and she came hard around him. Which sent him into his own finish. Bob continued to fuck her through her high as he painted her insides with his hot release.

Totally spent he pulled out and collapsed beside her.

"Baby, that was phenomenal. I am so sorry it took me so long to do that." Bob said as he tried to regain his sanity.

"It's fine honey. It was worth the wait. Lucy replied kissing him. He quickly left the bed and went to the bathroom. He returned moments later with a warm wash cloth to clean both of them up. Lucy went over to her dresser and found a pair of sweat pants that she had stolen from Bob and tossed them to him so he had something to sleep in. She grabbed a clean pair of sleep shorts and an over sized shirt to slip into. She climbed back into bed and into Bob's arms. "Oh yeah she thought. This was definitely worth the wait."

Tag List: @dreamingathighaltitude @shanimallina87

#top gun maverick #top gun #bob floyd #robert bob floyd #top gun bob #bob fucks #bob floyd smut #bob x oc #bob floyd x oc #top gun 2 #tgm fic

268 notes · View notes

introverted-author · 1 year

Text

Dancing on Ice

!GN reader x Elle Greenaway fluff oneshot || Cross-posted on AO3

Word count: 773

Prompt: Something winter related! I love fics set in winter so much for some reason

Thank you for the prompt @robinisexhausted!! This was super fun to write, I hope you like it :D

The air was alight with merriment, a feeling that always eventuated around Christmas time. Houses twinkled with fairy lights while shop windows were garnished in every shade of red and green under the sun. Snow fell almost constantly, but you couldn’t bring yourself to complain, even as you walked the streets with your girlfriend, Elle, by your side.

“Y/N, you’re going to freeze if you don’t take it!” an exasperated Elle exclaimed, the brunette having been trying to force her jacket on you for the past five minutes.

“You’re the one shaking Elle - I don’t feel the cold!”

“I’m not shaking, damn it!” the brunette protested, even as her hands visibly shook. You just laughed before taking the jacket and wrapping it around you both, the forced proximity causing the ever-so-soft Elle to blush. As tough as Elle Greenaway tried to be, she really couldn’t get away from the fact that she was a domestic marshmallow - soft and sweet, just the way you liked it.

“We’re not even at the rink yet, Elle! If your toes start to fall off, I’m not going to hear the end of it from JJ. She was all ‘don’t break a bone’ and ‘make sure to wear lots of coats’ - I swear it’s like she’s my mother sometimes!”

Elle giggled, a sound reserved for your ears only, as she leant into the warmth of your body. “I can think of plenty of ways to warm up once we get home.”

“Elle!”

The brunette smirked as you swatted her, the air turning stifling despite the falling snow.

The two of you were on a date, the first one in months thanks to work at the BAU. Elle had decided that an ice skating date was the perfect idea - even if the last time you set foot on ice it had ended in a broken arm and bruised ribs. Elle had promised to take care of you. You could only hope and pray that the night wouldn’t end in disaster.

It wasn’t long until you approached the outdoor rink and you could feel the nerves settling in your stomach - you really didn’t want to embarrass yourself in front of Elle. Why had you ever agreed to this?

The skates felt heavy in your grasp as you collected them from the desk, sitting down at one of the tables circling the rink to pull them on. You found yourself fiddling with the laces, unable to figure out how to tie them up even as Elle laced hers with practiced ease. You already knew she was going to show off on the ice - the brunette definitely came across as someone who knew how to skate.

“Here, let me,” Elle smiled, kneeling before you as she deftly laced up the skates, a steady blush creeping up your neck as you shared the same air. Elle couldn’t help but smirk at your flustered state, sneaking a quick kiss before tugging you up and onto the ice.

You nearly toppled over the instant you set foot on the ice, grateful for the arm around your waist which caught you, Elle setting you straight again before leaving you to your own balance. You were quick to the railing as the brunette glided before you.

Elle was an angel on the ice, gliding across the ice with an air of naturality, mocha curls bouncing as she completed a pirouette. In comparison to her, you felt like a fish out of water. You walked along rigidly, every muscle tensed as you struggled to remain upright. Eventually Elle decided to show mercy on you and skated over to your side, taking your hand with a reassuring squeeze.

“It’s just like walking,” the brunette grinned. “One foot in front of the other.”

“Right… walking… on ice.”

Elle couldn’t help but giggle. “Come on, Y/N. Just relax, trust yourself - you got this.”

“I really don’t.”

More mirthful laughter from the brunette followed, causing a playful glare from you.

“Okay, copy me,” Elle instructed, stepping out with her right foot. “Right, left, right, left…”

You copied your girlfriend, feeling yourself become more confident with each step, feeling the ice become less of a foe and more of a friend. It wasn’t long before you could skate without the rail, gliding alongside the elegant goddess that was your girlfriend.

You stopped in the middle of the arena, reaching gloved hands up around Elle’s neck, the brunette beaming as your lips connected. Snow framed the scene, warmth seeping into every part of you as you let yourself be loved by Elle.

“Merry Christmas, Y/N.”

“Merry Christmas. I love you Elle.”

#elle greenaway #elle greenaway x reader #jennifer jareau #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #fanfiction #fluff #christmas fluff

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jinx-on-mars-19xx · 1 year

Text

Oops I wrote a whole chapter. Just to see if it works but I hope it does because I actually like it. I know ABO isn't for everyone and if so I'm sorry. To those who do like it, please enjoy.

Gunpowder and Watermelon

Dom x Colson (Yungblud x Machine Gun Kelly)

Omegaverse AU

Warnings: ABO characteristics obviously, knots, slick, vaguely confusing reproductive organs, mpreg, dickish Col, drug use, drinking, sex mentioned but not shown yet 🖤 Rating: let's go ahead and say explicit

The club was crowded as hell, packed full like fish in a barrel and for Colson it really was that. Getting a bitch was as easy as shooting them at least, though the saying was a little too southern for his taste. He could feel too many eyes on him and the stink of fake pheromones was cloying. Even through that and the thick weed and cigarette smoke when a new scent hit the room his nostrils flared. Too many betas were faking their presentation with knock off perfume and pills and he'd assumed he'd have to just take one of them home but something new was there. Something… something real.

The alpha had never felt his cock get so hard so fast and one of his buddies started laughing. "Kells what the hell man? You good?" He couldn't tell if he actually shook his head or just meant to but he couldn't focus. He could barely even see straight anymore.

It felt like a movie scene as the crowd parted to reveal the real omega in the room, they were so rare of course everyone was scared off. Betas were warned just from the scent because if an alpha caught them together they could end up ripped to shreds. Not that the world was so barbarian anymore. Not really.

He was surprised to see a boy, but that was a stretch honestly. He was clad in a little black skirt and a ripped crop top, thigh high pink socks and black boots. His hair was a wild mess, sticking up everywhere, and that face. That fucking face.

Even though he was up in the VIP section it didn't take him but a moment to vault over the railing to the ground below. If he was showing off a bit for the first omega he'd met in years that was his business. And completely normal. "Hey. You here with anyone or are those DSL's free baby? I don't see a mark on that pretty neck." He purred, cupping the boy's chin to tilt his head side to side. Just to make sure. He barely held himself back from truly scenting him but that was better for shadows or bathrooms or darkened booths. Later.

"Fucking 'ell. I knew American alphas were bastards but you fink tha' shit works?" Oh. He was British. Hot. "Who knew the Machine Gun 'ad such bloody weak game." He huffed, pushing away and Col almost whined. No one dared talk to him like that and he didn't have to try, bitches fell at his feet.

"Fuck fine." He growled, hovering closer. "How about you let me slip n slide in that slick pussy and we'll see how hard I can make you squirt. Better?"

The kid swallowed hard, of course he felt a draw to the bastard in front of him but how could he not? He was a player though and an alpha. Dom didn't get mixed up in that shit. Maybe just one night wouldn't hurt? He'd been feeling a little extra needy and if anyone could scratch his itch… They both cracked smiles, laughing at each other and the punk pushed the taller man playfully. "Ya can't pick someone up to save ya life bruv. Wiv'out ya fame you ain't got it. Sorry luv. Nice to finally meet you in person." He offered his hand but the giant pulled him in for a hug. He hadn't been sure about meeting in public, he could feel the way everyone stared and avoided him but he knew it was safer. He was unmated and Kells was… well… fucking gorgeous and of course he smelled incredible too, even his BO was hot. Under the obvious weed and whiskey was him- gunpowder and leather and something that just screamed sex but underneath it all was something comforting. Almost sweet.

Colson held the smaller man tight, burying his face in that wild hair. They'd met through Instagram, he loved what the kid could do musically and he'd flown him here for a collaboration. He knew what he was but he didn't know it would be this hard to be near him. He smelled like watermelon candy and fresh linen, something free like a summer's day and Col had to force himself back but he couldn't seem to stop touching him. "You really scare people off huh Dom?" He teased, wrapping his arm around those broad shoulders to lead him back to their booth. He could feel the kid looking down, his gaze was as weighted as if he were actually touching his knot. It got worse though when that scent got stronger, the punk was wet. The omega was wet because they were touching and didn't that just prove the alpha right? He wanted them to be friends and work together but… that didn't mean they couldn't fuck right? At least once? Just to get it out of his system. That was all.

-A few months later -

Colson was scrolling Instagram again, a joint between his lips and a beer in his free hand. He was trying to act like he wasn't on for anything specific but of course he was, even though he was the only one there to judge himself. He took a deep drag and held it which was one of the biggest mistakes of his life because the next reel that flashed across his screen had him choking. His phone got thrown across the room and he cursed at his own stupidity, rushing to pick out up. A sigh of relief escaped when he saw it wasn't cracked but that fucking video was still playing on a loop. His ass hit his chair hard again, his knees a little weak. All he could do was stare.

Dom hadn't posted in a few weeks and this wasn't even from him. When the punk went home he didn't want to be over the top and treat him too much like an owned omega so instead of bombarding him with worried and wondering texts he just followed everyone the kid hung out with. Tom seemed to be the one to watch and damn was he right. Col had been confused why his buddy started posting so little of himself but now it was obvious. There was only a shot with Dom but it was enough and he screen grabbed a still of him, zooming in and studying the picture harder than any test he'd taken in his life. Test… shit. Had the boy taken one? The photographer had caught him off guard and giggling, doing his eyeliner shirtless at a mirror but his body was in view and Kells knew he could see a bump. Was… was it his?

The club was crowded and they were both so drunk. Somehow Dom had moved from sitting across from him to sitting next to him and now he was halfway in his lap. All they could smell was each other and there was something special about the boy the alpha had never scented before. It made him ache in a way he wasn't used to. "Wanna get out of here?" He asked, his voice as strained as his cock. He really might pop a knot in front of all these people and he didn't want his dick all over TMZ tomorrow. He definitely didn't want Dom splashed across the papers. The omega was his. His friend. Fuck.

"You know I ain't staying 'ere long bruv. We 'ook up and it's for the night. I ain't looking for no fairy tale shit. Jus' wanna get me 'ole plugged." The boy shrugged, being as honest as he could. Of course he was desperate for the alpha- half the people there were if not more but he wouldn't promise something he didn't believe in. True Mates didn't exist and a mated pair could be absolutely terrible to each other. He didn't need an alpha, just a good knot for a night and maybe a friend.

"Shit, you're my dream girl huh? Just steal the words I'd be saying in the morning." He teased back, the alpha didn't believe in love. He'd never been shown it growing up. He was good for a night or a few but he didn't stick around. "Friends who fuck?" He offered with a Cheshire grin, his palm up in the barely there space between their chests.

One of Dom's brows arched and he curled his lips around the rapper's thumb. He could feel the alpha's dick react, a hard pulse under his ass and he grinned wide. "Bruvs wiv benefits." He slurred, nipping the tip playfully before he crawled out of the booth.

Col groaned when a fresh wave of that slick scent hit him and he realized his lap was absolutely drenched. He ran his spit wet thumb over a sticky smear, pulling it to his lips to taste. He felt his blue eyes flash crimson but he attempted to shake it off. He didn't need to go feral. He wasn't in rut. Fuck. When his gaze met that sweet little bitch's he sighed happily and let himself be yanked to stand. One night sounded perfect. Honestly he was in love- with the idea of course.

Colson came out of his memory when the joint ashed on his lap and he cursed. Looking back at the picture. His thumb moved fast as he pressed like and commented a few of the same emoji, the thoughtful questioning little dude. Really all of his questions were answered when it only took Tom a few seconds to hit him back and his heart flipped when he saw just one word. 'Finally.'

He hadn't slipped into anyone's DMs so fast since he first saw Dom but he tried to keep it casual. He couldn't believe the guy had so obviously snuck a frame of the omega in just to get his attention but he'd thank him for it.

C: Hey man. Nice to meet you. Thanks for that but wtf??!!

T: Not my bloody circus and certainly not my monkey. I just groom it and take pics. Text. Him.

C: I have been. He never mentioned this shit.

T: Shit huh?

C: Fuck

T: Eloquent. It's not my problem but I was tired of him moping.

C: It's been a while are you sure… ya know 🤰🏻👀?

T: Are you asking if he's knocked up or if you're the only one knocking?

C: 😅 Not calling him a slut obvi. Fun is fun and he's a free omega

His phone rang and he dropped it again, he was far too shaky for this shit. "What?" He growled down the receiver assuming it was some telemarketer but the voice that came across was British. His pulse sped until he realized it wasn't his omega. The omega. Damn it. He had to stop that.

"Nice to meet you too. God, no wonder he hasn't told you. Such a nice alpha." Col could hear the eye roll the guy was giving him. He wasn't trying to make a bad impression; he'd just been moody for weeks. He couldn't help it. "This isn't my conversation to have knothead but no, he doesn't sleep with alphas."

"You mean he hasn't slept with any for a while?" His voice dropped, his throat felt suddenly achingly tight and his stomach felt sick. He didn't know what was happening but it sure seemed like a panic attack.

"Dumbarse. You're his first and only alpha. He sleeps with betas but not… like that. You can imagine my surprise when he comes home reeking of alpha and it won't go away! And now… we know why." He sighed down the phone, obviously worried for his friend. Colson couldn't help wondering if there was a crush there or just deep brotherly love.

He felt his stomach drop out of him, his heart racing a mile a minute. His hands were shaking and he thought he might pass out in a puddle of his own vomit soon but he tried to push through it. He was supposed to be talking. He could talk. "What am I supposed to do?" No, he could whine it seemed.

"Fuck you both. I'm so tired of this. Oh no, the grown ass man with probable millions and access to private jets doesn't know what to do after impregnating his friend from across the pond?" Wow Kells didn't think he'd been so talked down to in… years really. Maybe he and this beta could be buds. Eventually.

"Point taken. Damn you a salty bitch. Glad Dom's got you looking out." He huffed back, sighing and rubbing his temple. "It's still a big deal. I… he's got my kid?" He stuttered out, the nerves in his stomach almost resembling… excitement?

Tom grumbled something he couldn't make out but after a moment his voice softened. "Congratulations daddy. Now come get our boy. He needs more than I can give him."

Colson nodded before realizing it couldn't be seen. "Yeah." He rasped, clearing his throat and chugging the rest of his beer. "Yeah I'll… I'll come. Thanks Tommy."

"That's not… ugh. You really couldn't tell he was in heat?" The question was so out of left field he had to pull his phone away to stare at incredulously but the picture of Dom was still there and he just ended up whimpering.

"God you're so fucking wet." Kells growled, tossing the boy on his bed and dropping between his spread legs. His palms pressed rough to get them wider and the omega whined, bearing down. Colson normally wasn't so quick to scent anyone but he buried his face between those juicy thicc thighs and worried his face against those slick drenched briefs. The smell was incredible there and his cock was harder than it'd ever been. He could already feel his knot trying to pop and that had never happened before.

"Need you. Alpha please? Fuck me?" The kid begged, sitting up to paw off his own shirt. Kells didn't need to be asked twice, especially not when he was so inebriated and his dick was throbbing like it was. His teeth gripped the middle of those boxers and he tore, desperate to get inside the punk as soon as possible.

"Nah I um… never been around a heat. I thought he just had a really juicy pu-"

"Shut up. Shut up! I am not… I don't want to hear it please? I've listened to how perfect your knot is enough already. Heard enough about Dom's sex life for a lifetime. Just come see him, yeah? You can figure it out from there."

Colson sighed, agreeing and talking for a few more minutes before he hung up the phone and just stared at the picture. It wasn't the first time he'd lost time looking at the omega but this felt different. He wasn't just looking at the man anymore he was seeing so much more. It wasn't just a photo of the bitch he had the hots for… it was a picture of his family. He really didn't know how to deal with that but he hoped he figured something out between his home and Dom's. He'd have plenty of time on the plane at least. They'd just made one agreement, neither planned to tell the omega until he was in their flat. He didn't need time to try and run away. Kells always thought he had the biggest problem with commitment but it sounded like he met his match. That didn't matter, they could figure out their shit as they went but he wasn't flying over so fast for the crush. No, he refused to be a deadbeat dad. Dom could keep his perfect cunt to himself if he had to, though Colson hoped he wouldn't, it was the pup he was going for.

…Maybe a little bit his omega… just… a little… Fuck.

Author's Note/Tags: @manicpixiedreamb0y @hollywoodxwhore @jaxbreaker @cole-way-iero28 don't know who all wants tagged on this one so let me know! Hope this is a good start. Let me know what you think please. This will be less about the requests probably because there's more of a story. The italic paragraphs are flashbacks, for now that's how the sex scenes will happen. I'll still take feedback and and if you want to suggest things I'll take it under advisement 🖤 I'm not quitting any of them they may just take turns. But please enjoy!

#yungblud #dominic harrison #dom harrison #machine gun kelly #mgk #colson baker #dom and colson #dom x colson #dom and colson fic #com #com fics #my fics #omegaverse #alpha beta omega #mpreg

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