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babybottlepop96 · 3 years

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Home Again Chapter 1

Jean x Marco

Summary: Jeana and Marco have been friends since the tender ages of 5 and 7. They grow together and fall in love.... then Jean disappears.

Warnings: This story will contains mentions of past rape and abuse. The violence parts will probably be descriptive, but the rape will not be. There will be eventual smut further along into the story.

~20 Years Ago~

"Jean, honey, this is mommy's new boss, Mr. Bott. He is the man who is going to help us, so I need you to be on your best behavior, okay?" The small five year old with ash blonde hair, dark brown undercut and honey golden eyes nodded his head as he stared at the tall dark haired man with dark chocolate eyes.

"Nice to meet you Master Jean." The man smiled down at the boy with a warm smile. "This is my son, Marco, he just turned seven a few months ago. Heard you enjoy dinosaurs and superheroes?" Jean nodded as he stared at the boy just two years older than himself with wide eyes, mapping out all the freckles along his tanned skin, milk chocolate eyes staring back into his own with a smile that could make the grumpiest of men relax. "Marco has a boatload of dinosaur and superhero toys, Marco, why don't you show Jean your room?" Marco smiled, grabbing Jean's hand and dragging him up the giant spiral staircase to the second floor.

Once inside the room, Jean's jaw dropped, the size of Marco's bedroom was bigger than his whole house combined. The ceiling was high with detailed trim along the edges, painted in a dark brown and a pale maroon shade of red. The bed was bigger than what any seven year old should have, a giant flat screen tv was mounted onto the wall across from the bed and games, movies and toys filled the rest of the room. "Do you want to play a video game? I have Spyro the dragon, Crash Bandicoot, Mario Kart?" The freckles kid asked, naming off games while setting up one of the many gaming consoles he owned.

"I… ummm.." Jean stood there nervously, rocking on his feet while twiddling his tiny thumbs. "I've never played a video game before." He looked up to see Marco smiling at him.

"That's okay! I'll teach you! We can start with Mario Kart, it's a multiplayer game, so I'll be able to teach you!" He smiled proudly as if he just won first place at the spelling bee.

"Oh, okay! Thank you!" Jean grabbed the controller Marco handed out to him with shaky hands. The two sat down on the squishy blue and purple bean bag chairs and started a game, Marco showing him how to pick his character, how to move and control the kart and how to throw the special abilities gained when hitting the boxes with the question marks.

"So, Jean, what's your favorite color?"

"Purple." Jean spoke as he tried to concentrate on what he was doing on the screen, still having a bit of trouble with the turns.

"Cool! Mines red!" Marco spoke as he gestures to the room around them.

"Favorite food?" Jean asked, stealing a glance at the older kid next to him, he couldn't help but smile, Marco's smile was infectious.

"Spaghetti! Well, all kinds of pasta! Penne, ravioli, ricotta-"

"I thought ricotta was a cheese?" Jean questioned, he wasn't actually sure himself, he just knew that cheese was a luxury in his home, never having enough money most of the time for really fancy things like cheeses.

"Oh, yeah! It is!" Marco giggled, "I just really like ricotta cheese." Jean giggled too, this kid was alright. "You're my new best friend, Jean."

~8 Years Later~

"Will you just shut up, Yeager?" A thirteen year old Jean Kirstein, as calmly as he could, spoke with his fist balled up at his sides as he walked out of the middle school building.

"Come on, Kirstein, didn't your poor piss excuse for a mother teach you it isn't nice to tell people to shut up?" Eren, the school bully, asshole and dick, in Jean's opinion, insulted. That's when Jean's resolve faded into nothing and landed a swift punch to the tanned, unblemished skin, a crunch was heard throughout the whole parking lot. Eren fell to the ground but quickly regained his strength and landed a kick to Jean's guy. The wind was knocked from Jean's lungs, but his anger was dominant. He lunged for the bastard who insulted his mother, the only parent he ever knew who worked her ass off to make sure he survived, to give the douche-nozzle a good pounding, but warm, strong arms held him back before hos fist could collide with it's intended target.

"Jean." A warm voice whispered in his ear, Marco. He relaxed in the freckles arms but he was still livid. "Let's go." Then, he was dragged off to the black Chevy Impala.

"Is that your boyfriend Horse Face? Man, I knew you were fruity but seriously? You could do better!" Jean almost got out Marco's grip, but the taller, older teen had his grip firm and all but threw the teen into the back seat.

"Jean-"

"No, don't start Marco! He taunted me about how I have to live my life, insulted my mother, then insulted you! He deserved to get his lights punched out!" Jean yelled, unshed tears forming in the corners of his Carmel eyes, threatening to spill any second. Marco just simply drew the younger into his arms and the driver drove towards Bott Manor. "He… he doesn't have to be so mean! I never did anything to him!"

When they finally pulled into the Manor, Marco led Jean to his room, the same room they first became friends in eight years ago. The stuffed animals and small toys are now replaced with books, CDs and even more games and movies. Marco sat them down on the bed and neither spoke for a few minutes. "He was right, ya know." Marco finally spoke and Jean looked at him like he had four heads. "You could do better than me, if we were together."

"Marco Bott, you stop right there! No one could ever replace you! You are literally the best person alive! If I had the balls to kiss you I would!" Jean and Marco's eyes widened and Jean turned into a blushing, flustered mess. "Oh my god! I'm so sorry! I.. I don't know why I said tha-", but Jean couldn't finish, Marco's lips pressed firmly against his in a gentle yet passionate kiss that spoke thousands of words and so many feelings.

"I love you Jean." Marco whispered as they pulled apart, foreheads still touching as both tried to regain their breath and slow their hearts. Jean cupped Marco's face in his hands and kissed him again.

"I love you too, Marco."

~2 Years Later~

Jean Kirstein, fifteen year old freshman at Trost High, walked through the park on his way home after work. He hates his job, hates working behind the counter at the local Taco Bell, hates that Eren works there too in the kitchen as a prep cook, hates dealing with annoying ass customers with snarky attitudes complaining that their crunch wrap supreme doesn't have enough sour cream. Well sorry, Karen, I don't make the fucking food nor do I determine how much sour cream goes on it. Today was a particularly bad day, Eren called off claiming he was sick when Jean really knew he was out with his "boyfriend" leaving him to prepare food and take orders. Then someone took a dump on the men's bathroom floor, didn't even try to aim for the fucking toilet! Just took a shot right there in the middle of the goddamn floor which he had to clean up himself while his manager bitched about him not doing his job at the counter. All Jean wanted to do was go home, talk to his boyfriend for a little before he eventually went to bed and got up early the next day for school.

It was a simple request that he wished for while the clock ticked by slowly. Jean was so into his own head, he never heard the footsteps coming up behind him until it was too late. A wet cloth covered his nose and mouth, his eyes widened for a second before the world faded to black.

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"We have to find him!" Marco shouted at his father who was looking at him with a solemn expression. Marco paced back and forth in front of his father's desk, hands taking through his u kept hair. He has barely slept a wink since Jean vanished three days ago, his mind wondering about all the worst scenarios it could think of.

"We are trying, son, but we have no evidence of anything taking place. No struggle, no personal belongings, nothing to suggest anything has even happened."

"But Jean couldn't have just vanished into thin air! He wouldn't run away either! He loved his mom too much to just up and leave her and me…" Marco trailed off, thinking about his and Jean's time together over the last two years. Picnic and arcade dates, eating pizza and hot wings while they binge watched their favorite tv series at that moment, the soft and gentle kisses they shared between one another before they parted ways, always promising to text each other once they got home, letting the other one know they got there safe. That's the single most reason why Marco knew something was wrong. Neither of them forgot to send the 'im home safe and sound' text. Not once, in the ten years that they've known each other, did they miss sending that text. Even as children and Marco's father gave Mrs. Kirstein a cell phone as a gift to keep in contact, did they miss THAT text.

"Son, we are doing everything we can to find Jean. But we also need to think rationally, Jean might not ever be found." Marco froze at those words, Jean may be lost forever? He may never see those honey eyes, beautiful smile, perfect sketches and vibrant paintings painted by those slender pale hands and fingers? May never run his hands through those soft locks of ash and brown ever again? That's when Marco broke, he screamed and fell to the floor in a fetal position on the floor. His father looked at him with hurt in his own dark chocolate eyes, for him, his son and Jean's mother who was currently out looking for her only child as they speak. Don Bott rose from his leather chair and walked around the desk, kneeling in front of his son. He put his hand on his back and whispered a pained, "I'm sorry, Marco."

~10 Years Later (Present Day)~

Here he was, once again, at an underground auction. Mr. Bott hated these things, but he had no other choice, ever since Mrs. Kirstein passed away three years ago from a drunk driving accident, he hasn't been able to find someone who cleaned as well as she had. Every person he hired had an attitude or just didn't speak at all, always forgetting to dust the book shelves or take out the trash. So he relented and took up on Mr. Ackerman's suggestion to go to an auction. Getting there early to get a good seat, Mr. Bott, along with Mr. Ackerman, Mr. Braun and Mr. Hoover, the Dons of their respected parts of New York City, all sat down to converse while the auction for the…. Pleasure portion of the auction slowly came to a close. Mr. Bott cringed as the scum of New York bid money on these poor people just for the gratification of getting their dick in a hole.

"And now for our last and best prize of the night!" The auctioneer spoke as the Dons sighed in relief, none of them liked the idea of people being sold for pleasure as they themselves, tried for years to get it under control but never succeeding. "This one has been in the business for ten years, used and a bit rough looking, but this little beauty will be the best fuck you ever had. Clean and pliant, not a bad body either if I do say so myself. Number 54!" The announcer spoke as someone roughly shoved a young man out into the center of the room. The numbers flying from the crowd started pouring in left and right and it got the Dons wondering whom this "prize" was. "Three-thousand!" "Ten-thousand!" "Twenty Five-thousand!"

"Two hundred-thousand!" The crowd went quiet after hearing the deep booming voice coming from the front row.

"Two hundred-thousand! Going once! Going twice! Sold! To Do Bott!" The young man was then hauled out of the room to be prepped for leaving the facility.

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"Dad! I'm home! Reiner, Bert, Mikasa, Eren and Armin are here too!" Marco called from the doorway as he and the others walked into the Manor. "Dad?!"

"In the living room son!" He heard his father call and the group walked towards the sound.

"What's up? We heard your voicemail and hauled ass here. What happened?" Marco asked as soon as he saw his father, eyes brimmed with tears and a small smile. The others in the room, specifically Dr. Yeager, looked at them, small sad but slightly happy smiles on their faces. "What's going on here?" The group looked at each other, confused and concern plastered on their faces. Once Mr. Bott moved to the side and gestured to the couch, it was then that the group realized what was happening. On the couch asleep, lay a thin pale man, dark circles under his eyes, bruises and scars and even some fresh wounds, now neatly stitched up thanks to Dr. Yeager, littering his almost naked form. Marco stared at the man laying on the pale green couch and tears flooded down his cheeks. "Jean?"

#attack on titan #Jean Krischtein #marco bott #jean x marco #kidnapping #abuse #eventual smut #jeans mom #marcos dad #eren yeager #mafia au #reiner #bert #mikasa #armin #erens dad

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nayutai · 4 years

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Baby Don’t Move

⇢ Pairing Yunho x Female OC | Office Worker AU

⇢ Word Count 6.010

⇢ Warnings Yunho has a filthy mouth and a huge dick, oral sex (female receiving), rough sex, cursing (in general), aaaand I think that’s it

⇢ Summary Naima Yancey is ambitious and determined so her promotion at DevTech comes as no surprise to anyone. What should be a joyous moment for her is tainted. The promotion comes with a real office, more money, and a higher status, but it also comes with close proximity to the office golden boy Yunho. He gets under her skin in a way no one ever has, but she’s determined not to let this oversized menace ruin this opportunity for her. Turns out, Yunho would rather ruin her instead.

The muted ding of the elevator sounds much too joyful to Naima. Her transfer to the accounts receivable department should be marked by the sound of a death rattle or a dying elephant. A twinkling little ding only makes her even more pissed off. She glances down at the contents of the box nestled in her arms to see the brand new name plate she’d been given for her new office.

Naima Yancey

Receivables Supervisor

The youngest supervisor in DevTech history according to HR. She guesses that anyone else in her position would be excited about the transfer she’s mentally griping about. It’s not every day that someone like her gets unexpectedly promoted to a supervisory position. Naima has only been with the company for three years and apparently she’d made the most of that time. She pauses next to a sea of cubicles to scan the numbers above the offices on either side of the employees rapidly typing away at their stations. Only a few of them even bother to give her a second glance and for that Naima is incredibly grateful. She finally spots her destination, hiking the cardboard box she’s unloaded her desk into a little higher on her hip. She takes half of a step and immediately regrets every life choice that led her to this point.

“Well look who we have here. Are you lost, Ravioli?” Naima grits her teeth at that god awful nickname, swallowing the scathing retort that’s burning her throat. The deep baritone voice sounding off somewhere over her left shoulder is the cause of every ounce of the work stress she carries in her shoulders like a boulder.

Yunho Jeong. Beholder of an unfair amount of undeserved beauty and the victim in Naima’s most murderous dreams.

“You were in the staff meeting when they announced my promotion, Yunho.” She deadpans. Her skin is starting to itch from the prolonged exposure to the man in front of her. The smirk that is practically permanently etched on his face does nothing but piss her even more. She wants to smack him until it disappears.

“I’m just messing with you, Ravioli. You know that. Welcome to Receivables.” He shoves his hands into the front pockets of his jeans as he starts backing away. “Try not to fuck it up!” Naima can feel the thick cardboard of her box bending to the forceful clench of her fists. The weight of of nearly fifty pairs of eyes keeps the scathing remark she wants to make from bubbling up.

Fucking Yunho. Naima hasn’t even been in Receivables for an hour and she’s already doubting if the extra money is worth the headache. Okay, who is she kidding? The extra money is definitely worth it. Getting ahead of her bills had felt like the pipe dream of a wistful millennial before it had become an unexpected reality just last week. No way she lets some oversized preteen bully ruin this for her.

Naima is almost done putting her things into her new desk when the sound of an office door loudly closing disturbs her concentration. She looks up to see the source of the noise is none other than Yunho himself. All of the offices on this floor conveniently have floor to ceiling windows next to the door which allows people directly across from each other to see into the other person’s office. Naima is absolutely horrified at the implications of this as Yunho stares her down with a satisfied smirk. It’s obvious now that he slammed his door on purpose to get her attention.

“This is the worst day of my life.” Naima mumbles to herself as she does her best to ignore Yunho’s gaze burning into her forehead.

IT arrives a few tense minutes later to set up her docking station and get her started on the training modules for her new job duties. She’s taking notes on how to perform certain functions in the billing system when she receives a chat notification from her work husband Knox Rivers back in her old department.

KR: Hey wifey how’s the swanky new digs?

NY: My office is DIRECTLY across from Yunho’s office

NY: I can literally see every move he makes and he can see mine

KR: Dreamville? My treat

Naima immediately perks up at the mention of the bar down the street that has become a favorite amongst their group of friends. It’s going to take a lot to make her feel good about working in such close proximity with Satan’s hardest working demon, but a free round of drinks is a great start.

NY: I’ll meet you downstairs at 5:30

Naima nearly bursts into tears when she steps off of the elevator and spots Knox leaning seated in the lobby playing a game on his phone. She’s always thought that he looked like Thor with his long hair and athletic build and right now a superhero is exactly what she needs. A giggle bubbles up from Naima’s throat at the red stain that creeps down Knox’s throat when she sneaks up on him to kiss his cheek.

“Come on, big guy. There’s a Blue Magic with my name on it and I intend to collect my due.” Naimah declares, clapping Knox on his broad shoulders.

“Lead the way, my lady.” He holds the door open like the gentleman he is with a dramatic flourish. Naima’s heart twinges a little. She misses the days when talking to him in person required her to lean back in her chair as opposed to taking an elevator ride.

A few other people from the office are already at Dreamville when Naima and Knox arrive. They’re quickly swept up in familiar gossip and more drinks than anyone has a right to consume on a Tuesday evening. She’s engaged in a dangerous game of darts with a new employee named Xavier when a horribly familiar voice rings out above all the noise in the bar. Her head whips in the direction the voice came from, but the dart flies from her fingers anyway nearly taking some poor girl’s eye out. She yells out an apology but apparently her almost victim has had a little too much to drink herself and simply waves her off.

“Nice aim, Ravioli. An inch to the left and you would’ve scored a perfect murder.” Yunho taunts. Naima crosses her arms across her chest in indignation. Her eyes watch him intently and therefore don’t miss the way his gaze drops to get a look at her cleavage. His jaw ticks and she wants nothing more than to comment on that but Xavier interrupts by extending his hand in Yunho’s direction as he introduces himself.

“Naima, you ready to leave? I was about to call an Uber.” Knox materializes out of nowhere, phone in hand and Naima’s eyes nearly pop out of her head when she sees that it’s nearing eleven. She hadn’t realized that they’d been there for so long.

“See you tomorrow, Ravioli. Later, Knox.” She’d almost forgotten that Yunho was still here. He winks at her before he turns to walk away and, despite the fact that he can no longer see her, Naima flips him off.

Naima is still fuming nineteen minutes later when the Uber arrives. She successfully dodges Knox’s first few questions about why she’s so mad, but he eventually wears her down. She’d forgotten that Knox becomes a wannabe psychologist that likes to talk about people’s feelings after he’s had a few drinks.

“What do you have against him? You’re probably the only person at the whole company that doesn’t get along with him.” Naima rolls her eyes skyward. Yunho the golden boy is apparently loved by everyone and it makes her seethe even more. She wracks her brain for someone at the company that she can add to her side and thankfully comes up with a name.

“Fake news! Saia in purchasing called him a douche nozzle last week and I am inclined to agree.” Naima is quite pleased with herself as she settles back into the plush seating of the SUV. Her satisfaction is short lived.

“Saia doesn’t count.” Knox counters quickly. “Yunho dated her younger sister and it ended badly so that just leaves you.”

“The night before my first day at DevTech, my friends from back home came to town to celebrate and we went to this super fancy restaurant.” The red light at the intersection bathes them both in its glow which is ironic in Naima’s opinion.

She regales Knox with the store of how her friend Keyanna had bought her a ravioli entree to go so that she could have her favorite food on her first day. Yunho had snuck up on her when she was in the break room, startling her to the point that she ended up dropping a ravioli on her white button up. Of course the evil bastard had laughed about it till he could barely stand. She’d had to walk around for the rest of the day with the sauce stain on her shirt and Yunho has called her Ravioli every day since then.

“That…” Knox pauses to piece his thoughts together. “okay, yeah, I can’t say I’d be too fond of him either after that.” He admits.

“See? He’s an asshole and I hope he steps on a lego every day for the rest of his miserable life.” Their Uber driver, who had remained silent aside from the quick hello when they’d gotten in her car, snorts at the curse Naima speaks into Yunho’s life.

“You know he teases you because he probably wants to fuck you right? Men aren’t as evolved as people would like to believe.” Knox points out. Naima withdraws from him as if he just told her to go fuck herself.

“If he thinks that being an asshole will grant him access to my pearly gates then he’s a bigger idiot than I thought he was.” She and the driver exchange a high five when she chimes in with her agreement. Naima makes a mental note to make sure that Knox tips her good for being an intellectual.

A wave of exhaustion washes over Naima when their apartment complex comes into view. Thoughts of a hot shower and her fluffy pillows makes the time required to drive to their part of the complex feel like an eternity. She bids the friendly Uber driver a safe and prosperous night before all but running towards her building with a wave to Knox tossed carelessly over her shoulder as he makes his way to the building directly across from hers.

“Morning, Killer.” Yunho is way too chipper this morning especially since Naima has already had to suffer through elevator chatter about how he won a drinking contest last night. It doesn’t help that now he’s bringing up her almost homicide.

“Don’t you have something else to do? Like your job?” Yunho pretends to recoil from her remark as he follows Naima to her office. She wishes she could just haul off and smack him but that wouldn’t bode well for her professional career.

He props himself up against the wall next to her office and it’s as she unlocking her door that she registers just how close he is to her. A small shift of her weight to her right foot would push her up against his chest. Her mind drifts back to what Knox had said last night. She side eyes him cautiously before turning fully to face him head on. If anyone were to ask, Naima would blame what she does next on residual alcohol still inhibiting her rational thought.

“Do you want to have sex with me?” Yunho blinks several times in shock but he recovers quickly. He flips around to take stock of the people still filtering into the office to see if anyone is within ear shot and is seemingly satisfied by the lack of people around them.

“I never pegged you to have an exhibition kink, Ravioli.” She curses herself at the way the low timbre of his voice resonates deep in her gut. The greasy smile on his face however, makes her want to puke.

“My kinks are none of your business. I’m just trying to prove a point. Now answer the question.”

“I can only imagine what that point is, but yes, I would absolutely love to ravish you.” He leans in even closer so that she can smell the minty scent of his toothpaste when he whispers in her ear. His closeness doesn’t make her recoil in the way that she thought it would and the reasoning behind that is definitely not something she’s willing to explore.

The second she gets her laptop booted up she’s tapping out a message to Knox.

NY: Lunch on me today. We need to talk.

KR: I’m all yours at 12:30

Naima is still pondering her conversation with Knox when she steps off of the elevator to go back to her office after lunch. He seems to think that the best way to get Yunho off her back is to fuck him. According to Knox and his personal knowledge of “guy logic”, that will get her out of Yunho’s system and his annoying behavior will cease. Naima isn’t so sure about that. She’s so far inside her own head that she doesn’t even hear someone calling her name until they tap her on her shoulder. Of course, it’s Yunho. Luck is just not on her side today.

“Ravioli, you should consider getting your ears checked. I called you four times.”

“And you should consider that maybe I just don’t want to talk to you.” She replies. He makes himself comfortable in her office as she drops her purse into one of the desk drawers to jump back into her work.

“Oh, don’t be that way, Ravioli. I thought we were past this animosity thing since you practically propositioned me in the hallway.” He looks so smug as he recalls her blunder from earlier. God he’s so infuriating. Naima adds this to her running list of why men should be removed from Earth. She says nothing, choosing to simply point towards her office door. Thankfully, he’s not too dense that he can’t take a hint and returns to his own office space.

She’s settled into a steady pace with her work when her computer pings with a message. The prospect of clearing out her dashboard and possibly being able to leave early is too sweet to break her stride. Two more subsequent pings from effectively breaks her concentration.

YJ: hey

YJ: you look so cute when you’re concentrating

YJ: don’t ignore me I’m sensitive 😭

She looks through the glass into Yunho’s office to see him already staring directly at her. His head being propped up on his hands suggests that he’s been doing it for a while. He blows a kiss in her which she returns with a middle finger. She raises her computer monitors so that he’s no longer able to see her face.

Next order of business: buying blinds

Naima groans out loud when her computer pings with yet another message. At this rate she’s going to have to stay late to get everything done. She halfway expects the new message to be another annoying attempt at conversation from Yunho but thankfully this one is from someone that she actually doesn’t mind talking to.

KR: hey did you hear that Yaya bought a new house?

NY: yeah she just texted me that she’s having a bbq this weekend to celebrate the closing

KR: you going? 👀

NY: don’t ask me a stupid question like that of course I’m going

KR: lmao okay so we can split an uber then

KR: wanna leave at like 3?

NY: yeah that’s fine with me!

Naima is so happy for Saturday to finally roll around that she could cry. Yaya had told her a few things on the menu on Wednesday and her mouth has been watering ever since. Her husband is a chef at some fancy restaurant so she knows that this will be the best food she’s had in a while.

Knox and Naima are both slack-jawed at the absolute grandeur of Yaya’s house as their Uber driver comes to a stop in the center of the horseshoe shaped driveway. She’d neglected to mention that her new house is actually a castle. Naima frowns when she spots Yunho’s flashy Mercedes amongst the cars already parked in the driveway, but she’s determined to have a good time despite his presence. They follow the sound of music and splashing to the backyard to see a majority of the DevTech staff in the backyard. They’re quick to strip down to their bathing suits to join in on the chicken fight in the pool.

Naima has just sent Alexis from marketing flying off of Xavier’s shoulders when Yaya announces that it’s time to eat. It’s a race to get out of the pool as everyone is hustling for a good spot in line. Naima is cursing the god awful heaviness that plagues her every time she steps out of a pool when she hears a low whistle from behind her. It’s Yunho and his eyes are trained directly on her ass. Big surprise there.

“Yellow is definitely your color, Ravioli.” He produces a large, fluffy towel seemingly out of nowhere, offering it to her. She’s hesitant to accept it but a quick glance towards the now empty table that had once held an assload of towels changes her mind.

“I think I would look just as good on you.” Yunho smiles as if he’s just hit her with the best pick up line known to man. He’s gotten quite brazen with his flirtatious attempts ever since he’d exposed his sexual intentions on Monday.

“You talk a big game but everyone knows that overly confident men are just…” Naimah trails off with a pointed look at the front of Yunho’s jeans as she takes a sip of her lemonade. “overcompensating.”

Yunho pokes at the inside of his cheek with his tongue as he considers the woman in front of him with amusement. He revels in the way she swallows nervously when he closes the gap between them. Every breath she takes causes her barely covered chest to graze against his but, to her credit, she doesn’t back away. Maybe it’s the alcohol, but being this close to Yunho is making her blood run hot. She chooses to blame it on her primitive instincts and not actual attraction, but even she knows that’s a lie.

“Didn’t your parents teach you not to speak on things you know nothing about, Ravioli?” She can’t decide what she’s more mad at, the nickname or the insinuation that this asshole just said she’s wrong. She’s not.

“Didn’t your parents teach you not to lie?” She bristles. Yunho’s sarcastic little grin only grows in response to her anger. It’s like he gets off on making her want to wring his neck.

“Admit it, Ravioli. You want this just as much as I do.” Naima gasps when Yunho suddenly wraps an arm around her wait, jerking her to him. He leans down so that he’s speaking directly into her ear and in that moment, Naima knows she’s a goner. All these months of resisting him and he’s about to break her by whispering in her ear. She wants to scream bloody murder. “All you have to do is say the word and I’ll take you higher than you’ve ever been.”

“Prove it.” Naima feels like she’s put the final nail in her own coffin. Yunho has successfully worn her down. She can’t see his face, but she doesn’t have to to know that he’s smiling like he’s just won the lottery.

“Let’s go, Ravioli.” Naima expects Knox to be disappointed to see her leaving with Yunho when she waves at him to say bye, but instead he wiggles his eyebrows at her suggestively. She makes a mental note to yell at him for that later.

The ride to Yunho’s apartment is entirely too short. Naima’s shoulders are wrought with tension as she follows him up the stairs. Part of her wants to turn and run, but a much larger part is telling her to stay to see this through. Yunho has spoken quite highly of his sexual prowess and she’s more curious than not on just how much of it is true.

Yunho is on her the second she toes off her shoes by the door. One of his large hands firmly holds her jaw in place while he ravages her mouth with his own. Naima clings to his shirt to both hold him to her and ground herself in the moment. She feels lightheaded but it’s not from lack of oxygen. He uses his grip on her jaw to pry her mouth open, furthering his claim on her. The hand not covering her jaw skims across the skin above her shorts before deftly undoing the button. Her lips chase his when Yunho pulls away but he avoids her advances.

“Your lips taste so sweet. I want to taste all of you.” Naima shivers at the roughness of his voice. His normal baritone is a lot to deal with but this is downright sinful. He roughly hauls her off her feet into his arms, causing a fresh wave of arousal to flood her panties.

She busies herself with leaving marks along the column of his neck, loving the way she can feel his gruff moans vibrating against her lips. The smack of Yunho’s hand hitting the wall to steady himself when she grinds her hips against his startles her into.

“Jesus fuck, you’re killing me, baby girl.” Naima smiles mischievously, letting her lips linger on his skin. Something about the pet name he called her makes the heat simmering in her belly grow even hotter. He tosses her on his oversized bed once he collects himself enough to finally make it to his bedroom. She watches him curiously as he turns to dig around in his nightstand. His hand reappears with several foil packets in his grip which he promptly drops onto the mattress for later use.

Clothes fly haphazardly as Yunho hastily strips them down till nothing but his boxers remain in place. He smirks when he notices Naima’s playful grin drop when she takes in the size of the bulge he’s sporting. His large hands grip her hips, flipping her onto her stomach and rustling her around to a more favorable position. Finally satisfied with the way her face is pressed into the expensive Egyptian cotton of his bed sheets, Yunho buries his face in her dripping cunt from behind. He groans at his first taste of her and her answering whine is nothing but appreciative at the way it vibrates against her.

Naima yelps when Yunho’s large palms suddenly land on her ass with a resounding smack. He soothes the sting with tender caresses against her flesh. His tongue never leaves her entrance as he continues to coax a seemingly endless stream of arousal from her. She has the sheets in a death grip, moving her hips as if to separate herself from Yunho’s lethal tongue but wherever she goes his face simply follows. The slurping sounds of him feasting on her are absolutely obscene but she’s way too far gone to be embarrassed. She doubts that she would be able to form a coherent sentence of protest even if she wasn’t.

“You’re so fucking wet. I could drown in this pretty pussy.” Naima keens at his filthy words, squirming restlessly as the pleasure builds and builds within her.

It’s no surprise when she tumbles over the edge with a strangled shout, but she’d expected for him to release her once he’d made her come. Much to her surprise, Yunho doesn’t seem to have any plans of stopping. He tongues her through her orgasm, sucking gently on her clit as he thrusts two fingers into her still spasming entrance. Her knees buckle immediately from the sharp pang of oversensitivity. Yunho pulls his fingers from her long enough to land another harsh smack to her ass while his other holds her hips in place. The discomfort bleeds into pleasure until she’s racing headfirst into a second orgasm.

“That’s it, baby. Let go. Give it all to me.” Naima swears she’s on the verge of blacking out when Yunho finally releases her. She collapses against the mattress when he relinquishes his grip on her, trembling from head to toe. His chest is warm against the sweat-slicked skin of her back when he covers his body with his own. He leaves chaste kisses along her shoulder as he loops an arm around her torso.

“Don’t tap out on me now, love. There’s still more fun to be had.” Yunho grinds his cock against her ass, smiling against her skin when he feels her shudder in his hold.

He pulls himself up on his knees, dragging Naima’s tired frame with him. He makes quick work of removing his boxers and rolling on one of the condoms he’d grabbed earlier. She jerks when the head of his latex covered cock bumps against her sensitive clit as he covers himself in the slick still leaking from her cunt. Yunho watches the back of her head like a hawk as he slowly presses himself against her entrance. He swears quite creatively at the way her muscles lock down on him.

“Jesus fucking Christ, Yunho!” Naima drops her head to rest on her arms, doing her best to relax. He reaches underneath her to rub circles into her clits and succeeds in pushing forwards a few more inches.

His breath catches in his throat when she pulls her hips before pushing back against him to sink down a little further on his thick length. They work together until he’s finally seated balls deep inside her. Yunho’s eyes roll back in his head at the tight squeeze of her perfect cunt. He’s been inside quite a few women in his day, but this feels almost like uncharted territory. He hisses when she flexes around him involuntarily, tightening even further though he didn’t think that was even possible.

“I’m going to wreck this pussy, baby.” He punctuates his statement by withdrawing till only the tip remains, pushing back in with a purposeful thrust of his hips. Naima nearly chokes on the pitiful whine that claws its way out of her throat. “You’re gonna feel me in here for days.”

To his credit, he tries to keep his pace even and not too fast. He really does. His fingers are probably bruising her skin from how tightly he’s gripping her hips but it’s the only thing keeping him grounded and sane at this point.

“You call this wrecking me? I could’ve done this at home with my Rabbit.” Naima can admit that Yunho’s dick was a hard pill to swallow at first, but she’s thoroughly adjusted and in need of more. Judging by the way his hips still she’s about to get just what she was aiming for. She gasps when he grabs a fistful of her hair, yanking her upright so that he can whisper in her ear.

“Didn’t I tell you to watch that pretty little mouth of yours?” He practically growls in her ear as he grinds against her cervix. The pain mixes with the pleasure in a way that’s starting to make her lightheaded.

“No, you didn’t.” She responds breathily. Her fingernails dig into his thighs painfully but Yunho doesn’t care even a little bit.

“Well, I should’ve.” He shoves her back towards the mattress not giving her even a few seconds to get her bearings before he’s rearing back to slam back into her tight heat.

She shouts his name, squirming in his iron grip but he shows her no mercy. The time for that has past. Yunho’s hips piston in out of her at a furious pace. His gaze is fixated on the way her pussy creams on his dick with every thrust. His chest rumbles in protest when manages to pull away from him enough for his cock to fall out of her.

“Don’t run from me, Naima. You wanted this dick and now you got it.” She keens at the sound of her real name coming out of his mouth. The way his husky tone wraps around the syllables should be illegal. He fists the sheets next to her head with one hand as he uses the other to reposition her hips to allow him to slide back inside. His legs straddle both of hers, giving him the leverage he needs to fuck her into the mattress.

Naima’s fingernails are leaving crescent shaped marks in Yunho’s wrists as she holds on for dear life. She’s never been so thoroughly fucked in all her life. He’s reaching spots inside her that she didn’t even know existed until now. She’s on the verge of tears when he slows his frantic pace. He lowers himself so that his larger frame dwarfs hers once more. His arms looped under hers to hold her close to him. Yunho resumes his movements, opting for a much more relaxed cadence. The purposeful grind of his hips is just as overwhelming if not more so after the intensity from before.

“This is my pussy now.” Yunho grunts into her ear. He sucks marks into every inch of skin that his lips can reach. “No one will ever fuck you this good. Never fuck you this deep. You’re all mine.”

Naima bites down hard on a pillow that she must have grabbed at some point as she clenches around him hard. It dawns on her vaguely that Yunho hasn’t touched her clit once. She’s about to come from penetration alone. A feat she’s never been able to accomplish. The very Earth feels like it’s opened up beneath her when the orgasm that had been flirting with her senses finally washes over her. She feels him grow impossibly harder inside her as he reaches his own end. Black spots dance across her vision when the throbbing sensation of him filling the condom triggers a smaller, biting orgasm.

She’s surprised that she manages to stay conscious if only barely. Her surprise only grows when she feels a warm towel gently wiping between her legs. Her shock reaches a fever pitch when Yunho’s fingers start working into her calf muscles. She chooses to stay silent out of fear that he might stop if caught being nice.

“You done pretending to be asleep? Or did I actually fuck you stupid?” She can practically hear the smile in his voice as his fingers climb higher to her thighs. So much for peacefully enjoying this massage.

“I like you better when you don’t speak.” His amused laughter brings a smile to her own face despite her attempts to tamp it down. She shivers when he places a chaste kiss on the swell of her ass before going back to his ministrations on her legs. Knox is never going to let her hear the end of this once he finds out.

She’s about to go insane. Naima’s stomach has growled twelve times in as many minutes and if she doesn’t eat something soon there will be fatal consequences. She checks her phone once more to check Knox’s location and nearly cries when it says that he’s arrived at DevTech. Just a few minutes stands between her and hot bacon, egg, and cheese croissant and an extra large caramel macchiato.

The sight of Knox navigating the sea of cubicles with her breakfast in hand may as well be the second coming of Christ. She throws her arms around her neck the second he steps into her office. He pretends to be disgusted when she pecks him on his cheek repeatedly. Knox takes a seat in one of the leather chairs in front of her desk to talk before he goes back downstairs to work. Their conversation when Yunho suddenly burst through the door.

“What the hell are you doing?” Naima is appalled at the way he’s just invited himself into her office without even having the decency to knock first.

“I should be asking you that. I asked you for the Murchison report fifteen minutes ago but I guess you were too busy with your little boy toy here to actually do your fucking job.” Knox stands, mouth fixed to defend her, but she holds up her hand to stop him.

“Knox, can you excuse us please?” Naima says sweetly. Her tone is sweet and even, but there’s a hard edge to it that tells Knox she’ll be able to handle Yunho’s temper tantrum just fine.

Naima wraps her sandwich up as she motions for Yunho to have a seat in the chair Knox has just vacated. She shrugs her shoulders when he refuses, crossing her modest office to lock the door and close the blinds she’d installed.

“What the actual fuck is wrong with you, Jeong? Did you fall and hit your head? How dare you come to my office and insinuate that I’m not doing my job?.” He can tell that she’s working hard to keep from yelling at him but her words feel like a slap in the face either way.

“Look, I just need the Murchison report so that I can finish some paper-” Naima doesn’t even let him finish his sentence. She has no patience for him and his bullshit.

“Cut the bullshit, Yunho. The Murchison report wouldn’t be useful for anything other than end of year reporting which we are eight months away from so what the fuck do you actually want from me?” She’s seething. DevTech has a super relaxed company culture but HR still wouldn’t take too kindly to her punching another employee in the throat.

“Why didn’t you text me back yesterday?” Naima is taken aback. She remembers receiving a few texts from him on Sunday — how he got her number she doesn’t know — but it wasn’t anything that she felt warranted a response.

“Why would you want me to?”

The more they talk, the more Naima realizes that they went into that bedroom with very different ideas of what was going to happen afterwards. She’d intended for it to be a one time thing for him to try and prove her wrong which he’d succeeded in doing. Nothing more, nothing less. Obviously, Yunho had other ideas that went far beyond the four walls of his bedroom.

“This is new territory for me. I’ve never been jealous over women because I can get a new one in five minutes. I’ve never had a problem in that category.”

“Get to the point, Yunho.” She’s quickly growing bored of this conversation and she’s ready for it to be over.

“The point is that I want to see where this goes. Are you down for that?”

“No, you’re an asshole.”

“I mean, yeah, that’s true, but I’m cute and I’ll eat you out till you cry so what’s it gonna be?” He looks so hopeful that part of Naima wants to reject him again just to mess with him, but she’s not totally heartless. She decides to make him a deal.

“I’ll give you one week and then we’ll go from there now about this eating out business…” She trails off, looking at him suggestively.

“Come home with me after work and I’ll give you what you want and more.” The mischievous grin on his face promises another day of limping around and Naima is excited to say the least.

“You’ve got a deal. Now get out of my office.” She deadpans as she starts to unwrap the breakfast sandwich she hadn’t been able to finish earlier. He catches her off guard when he swoops in to steal a kiss from her lips as his “parting gift”.

“Later, Ravioli.”

She touches her fingers to her lips as she watches him walk back to his own office through her open door. It’s going to be an interesting week.

#ksmutclub #yunho smut #ateez smut #yunho x black oc #ateez x black oc #this is borderline pwp #plot where?#ateez fanfic #yunho fanfic #ateez yunho

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itsanerdlife · 4 years

Text

Cruel Boy 26/33

Pairing: Howie Stark x Reader

Warning: Lies. Betrayal. Just a lot of violence. Mentions of Domestic abuse. Parental abuse. Murder Suicide. Death. Guilt. Hate. Deception. Lots and lots of anger.

A/N: This is a bit darker theme, but Howie isn’t dark. Anger problems and bad choices but he’s not a bad person.

Playlist!!

First love. First heart break. Life time of hate. When the silver spoon feeding you love is taken away, you learn to lick it off the knives. Howie Stark broke you. Him and his brother ruined your life. Destroyed your dreams and crushed your soul. Your best friend is dead and your life is a mess. When you take a bartending job, it just happens to be owned by the Bastard Son’s MC. Just your fucking luck. Jokes, you haven’t had luck since Gwen died and Howie ripped out your barely beating heart. There is no way in hell you’re giving him a second chance. Hell will freeze over before you let him touch you again. Not a chance are you ever letting the Stark’s near you again. Hell might have just frozen over.

Tag List Open

A week later

“Tony did you not go to the store?” His mom sighs, closing the fridge.

“I did,” his father rounds the corner “not.” His mom sighs loudly.

“I’ll go.” Y/N jumps up.

“No, no. I will.” His dad waves her off.

“Yeah right old man. You already failed to go.” She laughs, shoving him playfully away.

“Creamer. Orange Juice.” His mom nods at her.

“Got it.” She laughs, snatching up her keys off the table.

“I’ll go with you.” He offers.

“No. It’s fine. I’m a big tough girl. I beat up boys. I can go to the store alone.” She winks at him. Coming over leaning down and kissing him.

“Drive safe.” He smiles at her.

“Fuck. I was planning to pull a GTA moment.” She banters, backing away. Her brow wiggles.

“Beating up hookers and robbing stores?” Peter asks.

“You taught me how to outrun the cops on that game.” She points at Peter.

“Peter Benjamin.” Their mom huffs. Howie laughs, their dad inhales his coffee.

“Have a sister. It’ll be fun. Lies!” Peter whips the empty creamer bottle at Y/N. She dodges it. Flipping her middle finger up. She wiggles as she moves backwards towards the door. Grin on her face she turns and leaves.

“Morgan’s going to grow up to be just like her.” Their dad chuckles.

“I’m mildly disturbed by that.” Peter nods.

“I love it.” His mom grins.

“How?” Peter chuckles.

“Huh?” He looks away from the door.

“You go somewhere there?” His dad smirks.

“Just thinking.” He shrugs.

“Wouldn’t have to do with Y/N, would it?” Peter smirks, sipping his coffee.

“Trying to plan my next move.” He admits, chewing the inside of his cheek.

“Like getting down on one knee or bailing in the middle of the night?” His dad wonders.

“Tony!” His mom hisses, swatting her husband.

“It was a broad statement.” His dad shrugs.

“We’re talking about moving in together.” He nods.

“But?” Peter watches him.

“Yeah that.” Howie snorts. “I don’t know if we’re supposed to talk about the past.” He shrugs.

“Does she ask about it?” His mom speaks up.

“No. Neither of us do. It’s mentioned in passing but that’s really all.”

“So why bring it up?” His dad’s brow pulls together.

“Dude, stop looking for an out. I know what you’re doing. Looking for a loop hole, in case she bails.” Peter calls him out.

“I just,”

“No you’re just trying to give her an out. If she wants one, she will make it clear. Why are you trying to push her away?” His brow pulls together just the same.

“I’m not. I just feel like maybe, with the past.” He shrugs.

“You don’t deserve her.” Their dad nods.

“Welcome to being a Stark.” Peter snorts.

“You broke her heart, Howard.” His mom leans against the counter. “She ended up back home. Gave you the time a day. Then willingly forked over her heart to you again. After you already ripped her apart. Just say a prayer that she didn’t just punch you and leave again.” She points out.

“Just be happy she is willing to be with you again.” His dad adds.

“I guess.” He nods.

“Is it taking a long time?” Peter checks his watch.

“How long has she been gone?” Howie looks around.

“It’s been thirty minutes.” They exchange a look. A phone rings, the four of them exchange a look.

“That’s me.” His dad jogs out of the kitchen.

“I’m calling her.” Howie picks up his phone. No answer.

“Boys!” Their dad comes running back into the kitchen.

“What?” They jump up.

“We gotta go.” His dad’s pale faced, wide eyed, panic in his eyes.

“What happened Tony?” His mom looks around.

“Y/N was in a car accident.” His stomach drops. Turning he fumbles, running into a chair. It hits the kitchen floor, Peter’s got him by the arm. They run after their dad.

“I’ll meet you at the hospital.” His mom calls after them.

-------

Cop cars. Civilians. On lookers. Other cars. Ambulances. A fire truck. He’s barely off his bike, struggling to stay up right on his feet.

“Stark!” Their heads whip to the side. Clint is jogging towards them.

“What happened?” He demands. His voice loud, panicked, shaking.

“I talked to some of the people around. But someone saw what happened.” He scratches the back of his head.

“Who?” Peter barks.

“I did.” They look to the side. MJ is standing there, dressed for her shift at the diner.

“What, what happened?” Howie swallows.

“I was in the diner. I saw her at the stop sign. She pulled out; the truck came out of nowhere. It just hit her. The officers said he had to be speeding.” She chews her bottom lip. Her eyes cutting towards the totaled car in the middle of the road. The driver’s side smashed in. His stomach lurches.

“Howie.” His dad pats his chest. He follows his dad’s eyes. Being loaded in the back of the ambulance, strapped to the gurney. Y/N.

“Howie. There’s something else.” MJ pulls his attention.

“What?”

“They hit her and took off. He took off just as fast as he hit her. He was gone by the time I got out of the diner.” She explains.

“The hit. In our town.” Peter swallows, turning white.

“Was on my girl.” Howie croaks out.

“Get photos. Any cop gives you a hard time. Pay them off or put them down.” His dad warns Clint. “I want everything. I want to know exactly what’s happening as it’s happening.” Clint nods, jogging away.

“MJ where is that ambulance going?” Peter grinds out.

“Mary’s.” She nods as the ambulance housing Y/N takes off.

“Go. Go.” The three of them turn, running back for their bikes.

They slide to a stop at the nurse’s station. Each of them talking at the same time. The nurse just stares at them for a moment.

“One at a time, please.” She talks over them.

“Y/N L/N. She was in a car accident.” He pants.

“I don’t have a Y/N L/N.” She checks the charts.

“She was just brought in.” His dad argues.

“We followed the ambulance.” Peter grinds out.

“Car accident?” She looks at them.

“Yes.” They growl at the same time.

“Y/N Stark?” She looks from the list to them.

“That’s her.” He swallows.

“How did you get her name?” Peter wonders.

“She woke in the ambulance. Told the EMT her name is Y/N, he assumed it was Stark as her last name. It’s the last thing she muttered before going out again.” She nods, reading a note on the chart.

“Can you tell us what’s going on?” His dad asks.

“You are?” She blinks at them.

“Her family.” Peter growls.

“Brothers? Uncles?” She lifts a brow.

“Brother, dad.” Howie nods towards the two on either side of him.

“You are?” She looks at him.

“Her husband.” His dad snaps. The nurse nods, picking up the phone.

“I’ll ask a nurse to come talk to you.” She shrinks away slightly.

The three of them sigh. Pushing away, they head into the waiting room. Dropping into seats, doing the only thing they could, sit and wait for some news. He leans forward, hands covering his face, elbows on his knees.

Small hands hold his forearms. Two messy, brown haired pigtails. A little face peeks up at him. He drops his hands, surprised. Morgan stands between his legs, her arms come up, asking to be picked up.

“Morgan.” He swallows, scooping her up. “Mom?” He blinks at his mother, taking a seat across from them.

“What are you doing?” Peter asks.

“We’re a family. We wait as a family.” She nods, crossing her legs. Her foot taps rapidly, nervous just the same as them. Morgan curled up on his chest, holding tightly to his sweatshirt.

----------------

Everything Peaches 9/3/19 @mo320 @courtmr @avxgers @eliza-kat @irepeldirt @jordan-ia @jcc04220 @dumblani @nishanki1 @allyp1023 @joannie95 @rogvewitch @rileyloves5 @sarahp879 @sexyvixen7 @doctoranon @queentoffee @abschaffer2 @tony-stank3 @tomhardy41 @bookluver01 @drayshadow @teller258316 @wandressfox @cutekittybast @amandab-ftw @carostar2020 @thelostallycat @henrietteoaks @nea90sweetie @circusofchaos @bettercallsabs @miraclesoflove @queenkrissy11 @shield-agent78 @elite4cekalyma @sadyoungadult @destiel-artemis @isabelcrichards @iwillbeinmynest @sweet-honey15 @scooby-doodoo @chanelmadrid13 @killerbumblebee @spookygrantaire @geeksareunique @supernatural508 @itzmegaaaaaaan @optimistic-babes @elizabethaellison @rainbowkisses31 @aspiringtranslator @mariekoukie6661 @pure-princess-97 @capsheadquaters @youclickedthislink @futuremrsb-r-main @lovemarvelousfics @notyourtypicalrose @petersunderoos96 @loving-life-my-way @itsy-bitsy-spidergirl @buckystolemyheart @booktvmoviefangirl @thatpeachybandgirl @supernatural-girl97 @thefridgeismybestie @eggingamazinglove @deathofmissjackson @awkwardfangirl2014 @muffininahandbasket @queenoftheunderdark @laneygthememequeen @writingaworldofmyown @death-unbecomes-you @shann-the-artist-moon @supernaturallover2002 @daughterofthenight117 @mcuwillbethedeathofme @verymuchclosetedfangirl @for-the-love-of-the-fandom @ocaptain-mycaptainmorgan @crazy-little-thing-called-buck @letsgetfuckingsuperwholocked @stupendoussciencenaturepanda @supernatural-strangerthings-1980

Howie 'Damn Boy' Stark: @ml7010 @gabile18 @crayonwriting @callme-barnes @untoasted-ravioli @badassbeckettswan @andycanbeemotional

CB: @coley0823 @csigeoblue @lakamaa12 @tomhardy41 @ms-rogers06 @wolfiemichele @eridanuswave @tireddork-knight @honey-bee-holly @multifandomgirl-us @eggingamazinglove @badassbeckettswan @fandomsstolemylife00 @jamesbarnesappreciationclub

#Marvel #OFC!Howie Stark x Reader #Avengers #OFC!Howie x Reader #Cruel Boy #Marvel Fanfiction #OFC!Howie Stark Series #Avengers Fanfiction #OFC!Howie Series

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zzzzzbored · 5 years

Text

Dad?

Reblog from Takeover Tales

I spent the weekend with my dad’s who had grown a lot since I last saw him. Isn’t he the one who is supposed to tell me that? His body mass was much larger and now he looked like he could kick my ass while sitting. It didn’t bother me, I kind of liked it. You see, my parents got a divorce after my dad started acting a little strange and that was about three years go. I hadn’t seen him since. It’s almost as if he appeared out of nowhere after disappearing out of my life.

My mother dropped me off outside, failing to build up enough courage from the drive to come in and at least say hello. I didn’t blame her, she had been through a lot and I wasn’t going to give her any more shit than she deserved. That was very little. I stood outside with my bag hung over my shoulder and my book bag leaning against my leg. I pulled the strap over my body and walked right up to the door. Without hesitation, the door opened and I was greeted by a bear of a man. This was my father.

“Dad?” I asked, he looked nothing like he used to but I could still see it in his face. I think it was the nose because it was the same as mine.

“Yeah. I would hope so. Look at you! Man do we have some catching up.” He grabbed my bags and then placed them on the sofa. Beyond the foyer we passed an office with an executives desk placed in the center and an apple computer’s apple light glowing in the dark. I could make out various office items such as books leaning against each other underneath a lamp and a cup filled with mechanical pencils, each one with a brand new eraser. To the right there was the door that lead to the garage. As we moved along we reached a hallways leading to the guest bedroom which belonged to me for the weekend and the guest bathroom at the end which was beach themed with bowls of shells on shelves and sand dollar soaps. We reached the kitchen and living room combo after the hallway and the roof grew immensely, a giant fan centering the ceiling. The marble counter tops reflected the light from the center of the fan and there were pots and pans filled with the meal for the evening. In the living are, two sofas faced each other with a table in the center, a vase with orange flowers was a nice addition. On the wall was an abstract orange painting with streaks of paint thrown across the canvas. The dining room matched the dark wood of the kitchen cabinets and down the center was a fabric accent with orange stripes and on top of it was a bowl or oranges. Behind the table was the view of the backyard with its green grass and carefully placed lawn chairs. The master bedroom wasn’t for my eyes.

“It smells great!” I let the aroma of the spinach and cheese pasta fill my nose as he pulled it off. The Asiago cheese was gooey as he set the table and the sound of water pouring into my glass made me smile.

“So, how have you been. I know that the last time I saw you we weren’t really on good terms.” He took a sip of water before placing a piece of ravioli in his mouth, a single strand of cheese stretching from plate to lips.

“Well, you weren’t on good terms with mom but I’ve been busy. I got into Yale and I will be going this fall.” I sipped to the accomplishments.

“Yale? Wow. When I was al…well, I’m proud of you.” He smiled. It was still odd seeing his face work since it was a bit rounder. His skin moved differently.

“I’m also gay.” I tried to avoid eye contact as I put a ravioli in my mouth. If he yelled at me it would give me something to do while I listened. In fact, I would have just chewed it and ignored his torment.

“Interesting.” He smiled.

“Yeah.” I gulped down the cheese and looked at him. He wasn’t going to yell or maybe I had spoken too soon?

“You aren’t going to be treated differently.” He said. I found out that weekend was that what he really meant was: “I’m not going to beat you or scream like other dads but that doesn’t mean I won’t do other things.”

I was in bed when I heard the whispers. We had just finished watching a movie together and as the credits rolled past I yawned, cuing us to sleep. I followed the whispers past the kitchen with its spacious cooking area and the dining room with its orange accents and to the crack in the master bedroom door. There was a perfect view of the bed which had my father sprawled out on top of it. His cock was erect and flowing out from it was a white cloud, coming together just above his body. My dad’s back was arched as this white mist flew out of him and then he fell back onto the comforter as it started to turn into what looked like a human being. Then the guess was confirmed, floating above my father was the ghostly form of a burly man.

“Man, I can’t wait to screw your son. I Just have to figure out how to let him let me.” He was talking to himself as he floated around the room. My father snored on the bed and rolled to get comfortable. “Oh no you don’t.” He shoved himself back into my father’s erect cock, causing him to arch his back once more. His hands wrapped themselves up in the blankets as he grabbed them, moaning and writhing as this spirit took his body. He took control quickly, I could tell from the way he looked at his hands. “Man, you’re one hot fucking catch. Three years of shaping you to be the perfect host and now you fit like a glove.” He patted his stomach and then rolled over. I waited quietly trying to listen to him and then I heard his snoring and took that as a reason to leave.

The following morning I received a text in my phone, the vibrations on the wood causing me to wake up. I groggily looked at the photo and it was my father. He was only wearing underwear and had his arm above his head. He was posing for me. For a second I almost passed off the previous night as a dream but the moment I saw the picture I knew that he wasn’t my dad. He quickly came into my room to apologize for that and made up this story about how it was supposed to go to someone he had been dating or whatever but I saw right through that bullshit.

“You can stop acting. I know it’s not you in there.”

“What?”

“I know you’re a ghost or something.” I could see his cock pressing against the inside of his pajama pants and then I felt my own beginning to grow.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“You can pretend all you want but I saw you last night. Not you my dad but the you that can float in and out of his body. ‘Like a glove’ is what you said, I think.” I was desperately trying to hide my boner from him.

“Aha. You sneaky bastard. I knew I liked you the moment I saw you.” He sat down on the bed and I moved over to make room.

“So, what do you want?” I asked.

“I’ve gotten everything I wanted. I’m living again and your dad is the perfect body. You think so too.” He reached over and touched the tenting blanket. I tried to pull away but he grabbed it and I cringed. It felt good.

“Stop.”

“You like it. If you didn’t you wouldn’t have popped one the moment you saw me.”

“I don’t think that’s how that works.”

“C’mon, son. You want it.” He had started crawling over me, his heavy body causing the bed to have an even bigger indention. I could feel the heat of his own cock and he pushed himself against me, his bulge rubbing against my own. He repeated this and then lowered his face to mine, kissing me passionately. I didn’t refuse and instead of pushing him away I reached up and pulled him in. He ripped off the blanket and pulled off everything that I was wearing, almost ripping it because of his strength. It was easy for my to push off his bottoms with my leg and I felt his massive meat land just above my own. I chuckled as he smiled and then he forcibly flipped me over. I used the pillow to muffle my screams as he plowed me with his rod, slamming me into the headboard as he penetrated my hole. He rhythimcally fucked me in the guest bedroom and he grabbed my hair like he was riding me like an animal. I grabbed at the pillow pressing it harder and harder, biting into the cotton to keep me from screaming. It felt amazing as he rammed me with his cock and out of the combination of happiness and pain, a tear dropped onto the pillow case.

“Oh fuck YES!” I screamed finally. I couldn’t hold it any longer.

“Your hole is so tight it feels fucking amazing.” He grunted and I tightened just to milk it out of him. I moaned as I started to push myself away from the headboard to keep myself from hitting it and I could feel his pulsating cock being to blow. He filled me up with his sweet fluid and let out a roar as he came. The thrusts slowed down and eventually he pulled out. I rolled over and curled up into him, his hairy body laid out before me. I circled his nipple with my finger and he used his arm to bring me in for a kiss. We laid there blissfully and I almost wanted to smoke a cigarette like most people do in the movies but instead, I kissed him this time.

“You can keep my dad. I wasn’t a big fan of him before anyways. I was too scared to come out of the closet and he were in control he probably would have kicked my ass.”

“If it makes you feel any better he would have. I could feel it.” He tapped his forehead.

“It does make me feel better.” I curled back up into him and I didn’t want this weekend to end.

Well, it did. Yale was coming up and I wasn’t going to be seeing my dad as often so I was going to have to fill up the rest of the summer with him. My mom didn’t mind and my dad definitely didn’t mind.

#male possession #male body possession #reblogfromtakeovertales

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writeyourownlifestory · 5 years

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Of Mice and Men {Mouse x Reader}

Summary: You meet a handsome guy in a bar and find that being the girlfriend of someone on a special forces team is a lot more complicated than expected.

Warnings: Sexual activity. Domestic fluff. Ominous ending.

Word Count: 10,051

A/N: Wrote this just to say I did. I saw a lot of love was being given to Gardner, and Pat and thought you know who could use some attention? Adorable special forces baby boy Mouse.

I hope you enjoy all of this. I put my whole heart and soul into it even though Reader isn’t my forte. Fair warning, if you haven’t seen G.I Joe: Retaliation (spoiler warning), things don’t end well for the Screaming Eagles, so be warned, a bit of heartbreak in this one.

Read the following: AO3, Wattpad, or under the cut.

You met at a bar, which in itself is pretty surprising because bars aren't your scene. Maybe you drink, maybe you don't. It all depends on the moment and your emotions. You're there to meet up with some friends or maybe coworkers. You don't remember. Everything before him is a bit of a blur, to be completely honest.

He was with some buddies of his, standing off in the corner playing some game. They were rowdy and loud, which was to be expected. The bar isn't the type of place where you'd sit down quietly and discuss things. You go to laugh, and drink and have a good time. Sometimes the place would have some guy in the corner with a guitar, singing along to old songs, though tonight they stuck with the jukebox and radio.

You were waiting for your drink, leaning against the bar as you listened to some old country song. It was the type of song that everybody knew even if you didn't actively listen to it. You weren't singing along because you didn't sing in public, but you hummed to the chorus when your drink finally came.

You thanked the bartender, wrapping your hand around your glass though just as you turned to go back to your table, it was knocked out of your hand by a passing bar-goer. He stumbled into you, staggering back at the glass crashed to the ground. Liquor, ice, and glass scattered all along the floor.

There was a moment of silence that was filled with shock and annoyances you looked up to face the man who slammed into your arm. He looked just as surprised as you were, with a tad bit of remorse added to it.

"Christ. I am so sorry." He muttered, going back and forth between looking between you and the mess on the floor.

"It's all right," You say, even though it wasn't.

"I wasn't looking where I was going." He mentions even though it was obvious. "I'll get you a new one."

You shake your head because you don't want to be a bother, but the guy is already heading to the bar. He slaps his hand onto it repeatedly to get the attention of the bartender and then looks back at you. You rattle off your drink of choice, choosing to just let the guy buy you another one.

You watch as a worker cleans up your mess and apologize to them even if it wasn't your fault. You don't like to cause trouble for anybody, though they wave you off like it's no big deal. And it wasn't. No use in crying over spilled alcohol, right?

You turn your head back to watch the bartender make your drink, checking to make sure nothing was slipped inside of it. The dark world we live in, but what can you do?

The guy smiles triumphantly as he holds up your drink, giving a dramatic display as he offers it to you. "My lady,"

"You're sweet," You speak, taking the glass up from his large hands, bringing it to your lips for a slow sip. It's sweet and bitter all at the same time.

You stand there, teetering between the bar and the tables until the shout of your name gathers your attention. You look back, suddenly remembering who you were with. You thank him once more, turning on your heel so you could return to your table.

You sit down and try to enjoy the night, chattering with your small group of people who arrived for the small hangout. Now and then you catch the guy glancing your way. You can contently say he doesn't spend the night staring at you as he is busy with his group of friends, but your eyes lock a time or two.

You didn't think anything of it, especially as the bar began to fill up and the sound of the music playing over the radio and the endless conversation is too just for you. You excuse yourself to use the restroom, shuffling through the crowd. There were other bars in your area, but you guessed this one had the most atmosphere. Or maybe it was close and people were lazy. Who knew.

There was a small line building and you step onto it without a second through. You're looking at your phone, trying to keep busy when a voice catches your attention.

"We meet again," The guy in front of you mentions.

For a moment you thought it was a joke. Meeting the guy from before on the line for the bathroom of all things. It seemed a little too cliche, but you try not to overthink it.

"There's only one bathroom. And I've been there for about . . . eight minutes." He confessed, shifting his hand as he took his guesstimate. "I think some guy is getting lucky in there."

"Seriously?" You mutter, raising your brows in surprise.

You understood the kink of having sex in a public place. You could never imagine doing it yourself, but who were you to judge those brave enough to take the chance.

You both stand there, not sure what to do. Sure, he had the option of heading to the alleyway and pissing by the dumpster, but you weren't lucky enough to be able to aim. So you remain online, hoping that the bastard inside the room was enjoying himself.

"Having fun?" The mystery man asked, shifting to lean back against the wall, his arms crossing over his chest.

You shrug. You're not having a bad time, even if this isn't your scene. You can be social or you could be unsocial. You could bounce off the walls or sit quietly in your room. All depends on the situation. Tonight, you're enjoying yourself though of course there were other things you'd love to do. Other things you could be doing if you weren't in this cramped bar, waiting online to pee.

"Are you?" You asked, trying to get a good look at him.

The bar was dim though his hazel eyes shined well enough. He's cute enough, you think. Boyish smile with dimples. The regular looking guy with a nice build and strong arms.

He bobs his head, proceeding to explain that he was meeting up with a couple of guys from work. He mentions that he hasn't seen them in a while, as they were all stationed in other places. You wondered what he meant, but didn't question it. You just stand there and listen, shifting your feet as you silently thanked yourself for choosing comfortable shoes.

When the door to the bathroom opens, you watch as a guy and girl slip out of the room together. They were blissfully happy and there is a simmering in your stomach when you catch a glance of their linked hands and wrinkled clothing.

Rather than stepping inside, the guy holds the door open, gesturing for you to go in. You shake your head, reminding him that he waited a lot longer than you had, but he refuses. "I'm special forces. I can hold it, trust me."

You take the hint and shuffle inside, trying to best to be quick so the poor guy doesn't have to suffer any longer. You think about what he said, about special forces and being stationed and realize he's military based. You don't know what to do with this information and carry on with what you were doing.

You exit a moment later, shaking your hands because you hate those stupid air dryers. They never work right anyhow.

The guy is nowhere to be seen and you wonder if he decided to piss out in the alleyway after all. You look around curiously, though it's too crowded to see anyone. You shuffle back to your table and remain for another hour, laughing and commenting about whatever subject comes up.

You get a Lyft home because you've been drinking and you don't think about the special forces guy until you're settling in for the night. It's a silly cliche to meet a cute guy at the bar but then again, cliches exist for a reason. You don't allow yourself to wonder if you'd ever see him again, because you have very little intentions of going back to the bar any time soon.

Except you do go back, against your better judgment. It's busy again and you and your associates arrive later than usual. There is no table to sit at, so you're standing in the corner. Someone bought you a drink, which is nice because you don't have much cash on you, but it tastes strong and you don't have the stomach for strong alcohol.

The music isn't that good and you last about an hour before finally making an excuse to leave. You ramble off some bullshit that you don't will be taken seriously because honestly, what does it matter if you stay or go. You can be a good company but you surely won't be pissed on this night. You head out the front, standing off to the side as you go to order another ride home.

"Heading out already?" You hear over your shoulder and you turn to see the special forces guy. You didn't expect to see him, even if you did take a casual look around when you first entered.

A few other men make their way into the bar and you guess that is his selected crew. You rattle off the same excuse as you had to your friends/coworkers/whoever they are at this point, though he doesn't buy it the way they did.

"Shame. Was hoping I could buy you another drink." He admitted, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jeans.

"I already had one." You confess, thinking about to the bitter-tasting bottle that you held for the entirety of your stay.

"I could buy you something else." He offers slightly, gesturing to the pizza place across the street.

It was small and dingy, but the place pizza places always are. Places that have to promote themselves as a family-friendly restaurant isn't going to give you good tasting pizza. Maybe delicious garlic knots or pesto ravioli, but if you wanted good pizza, you have to go to a place smaller than a New York City apartment.

You ate earlier, but who could say no to free food, so you follow him across the way, discussing different toppings and such. You aren't a picky eater, not really. Sometimes you prefer one thing over another, but in the end, you're just happy for the food. You order your pie, which is scattered with all different things and sit down at a small table you both have to squeeze into.

You're sucking on the straw of your fountain drink when the pizza is placed beside you and you both dig in. He is halfway through his slice when he speaks up, swallowing down hard when a certain realization hits him.

"I don't know your name."

You speak it softly, taking a bite of your slice after the name leaves your lips.

"Morris." He admits. "Friends call me Mouse."

You cock your head, trying to understand why. He isn't exactly small, so it wouldn't be a proper comparison nor is he large enough to make the nickname ironic. You just bob your head, deciding that Morris is good enough for you.

You make idle chit-chat and learn more about each other. You tell him what you do for a living and he talks about his military life. The pizzeria lightening is better than the bar, allowing you to get a good look at him now. He's cute. Boyish and handsome. You snort as he takes a large bite, nearly taking the entire slice, crust included into his mouth. You both laugh it off as he chews, luckily not choking on his little antic.

You wonder if any of the others will leave the bar and come here, seeing you. Would they question you, see if you ditched them for a guy? Would they be right?

No one else comes in after that, so it's just the two of you lost in your little world. You finish your pizza and drinks but remain sitting and talking until the place is closing up and you get kicked out.

"Can I give you a ride home?" He asked, holding his keys out.

You thought about saying no and thanking him for the pizza, but the idea of talking to him for a little while longer was too tempting. You follow him to his truck, hoping in easily enough. You give him the address but he doesn't put it into a GSP or anything.

"Are you from around here?" You ask casually, wondering if you've lived in the same area and never knew about it.

"I'm from all over." He tells you as you head out onto the road. He takes it slow, keeping the conversation up as you go. You don't live far, but you don't mind the gentle motion.

When he finally pulls up to your place, you both pause. You thank him for the company and the food and he does the same. You see a small flush across his cheeks and he's looking between the steering wheel and yourself until he finally breaks.

"Can I call you sometime? The text you?"

You don't give your number out often, mostly because nobody asks for it. You also don't date that much because of reasons X/Y/Z. Still, you give him the number anyway, passing him your phone so he could put his number in.

When you get it back, you thank him again for the night, hopping out of the truck and heading into your place. Your phone buzzes as you walk through the door and you see a message from "M" with a mouse emoji. The message is simple enough, asking if you were free tomorrow.

Another message comes in, asking if it's too soon to ask. You chuckle softly, thinking about what you had planned for the following day. You worked but were lucky enough to get out at a decent time.

You offer it up to him and Morris jumps, swearing to pick you up an hour after you get out so you both had time to get ready. There are butterflies in your stomach for the rest of the night and even during the day. You don't text him first because you don't want to come off as too eager.

You knew it was silly. That it was all stereotypical bullshit. If you were excited you were allowed to be. No one should make you feel bad for wanting to see someone or do something. Morris does text you however, checking in to see how you're doing and asking if there was anything specific you wanted to do.

You didn't know if it was a date or a hangout but so long as you weren't taken back to that bar, you didn't care. He promised to plan the whole thing and you trusted his judgment, putting your phone away so you could get some work done.

When you get home, get ready. You shower, letting your hair dry as you pick out your outfit. You try to keep it casual, but you want to look cute. You put something together, deciding to be a bit outrageous and choose heels this time. You apply your makeup and sit at the kitchen table, waiting patiently for him to arrive.

The butterflies in your stomach remain as the familiar truck pulls up and just as you go to open the door, he hops out, a small bouquet in hand and smiling bashfully. "I was just about to knock." He admits shyly.

"Bit old fashioned, don't you think?"

You had never gone on a date before where the guy arrived on your doorstep to knock and greet you. This wasn't the fifties nor a small town. Usually, it was a text saying they had arrived or more than usual, you'd agree to meet at a chosen location.

"Well, I can be pretty old fashioned sometimes." He confessed, holding the flowers out for you to take.

The bouquet is small but lovely. You've never been given flowers by a guy before. Family sure, but not a date. You're beginning to realize that this is, in fact, date and the butterflies just get worse, but you more solid few it, following him off to his truck.

He's rattling on about his plans for you both and you can see that he is a bit nervous too. It helps you realize, though you have to laugh silently. Why would he be nervous? You were nice to look at and good company, but nothing to get nervous about. He was sweet and nice, something very hard to find, so it was normal for you to get a bit nervous.

You go for dinner at a place in town that isn't a chain restaurant or fast food place. He pulls in your chair and asks you about work the moment you're sitting down, showing off how attentive and caring he could be. It throws you for a loop, but you don't question it. Instead, you choose to enjoy it, asking him the same questions as you get to know one another better.

He has been in the military nearly his whole life. He was a specialist and while he didn't want to go into detail, he made it very clear that he was very good at his job.

"Have you ever killed someone?" You ask boldly, halfway through your meal.

He is silent for a moment, outweighing his options. "Only the bad guys."

"How do you know who is good and who is bad?" You question, leaning in close. "I mean, technically, from their side, you're bad and they're good. Who is right and who is wrong?"

You didn't know what reaction you'd get. He could be angry for you questioning his line of work or call you stupid for calling someone against the military anything other than the villain. Instead, he laughed it off, leaning back in his seat with a laugh. "Very philosophical of you."

You're both silents for a moment and while there is a gentleness to his face and voice the things he is saying are very serious. "I guess I just want the world to be a better place to live. And maybe the things I do care a little unethical but I have to believe I'm succeeding in one way or another."

"Like a modern-day superhero." You say and it makes his smile widen just slightly.

"Maybe." He whispered, turning his attention back onto his meal.

You spent the rest of your dinner eating and chatting about this or that, little things that you wouldn't discuss with a stranger because you know they wouldn't care. But Morris isn't a stranger at this point. When the bill comes he pays before you can even grab it.

"You can get it next time." He promises, placing the money down and standing from his chair.

The possibility of another date is already hanging in the air and it leaves you in awe as you follow him out of the place. The weather is nice so you walk for a bit, finding that talking to him was oh so very easy.

You decide to grab some ice cream and you make a very big deal over the fact that you're paying for it. He just laughs it off and gets his double scoop, following you around the town as the warm air whirls around you both.

You continue to walk and talk before going into his truck and driving around for a bit. The conversation never dulls though you know it has to come to an end as the hours continue to tick on. He pulls up in front of your place and you're both smiling brightly.

He walks you to your door, like the gentleman he is and you thank him for a lovely time, finding that you can't remember such a great night with any other former suitor. He says the same, squeezing your hand gently. You stand there for a moment and think that he will kiss you but instead he lets you go and makes his way back to his truck.

You go into your home, finding that he has already texted you, leaving you with a promise that the next date will be even better. You go to bed wondering when the hell you entered a hallmark movie.

Or maybe a lifetime movie as hallmark is always a bit too fluffy and sweet while lifetime offers a bit of drama, which is exactly what comes your way. You go on your second date, which is even better than your first.

You argue over who pays since you paid for the ice cream and Morris fights that that didn't count as the second date. You try to do what he did and persuade him to hang on until the next date when he could go back to flashing his cash but the persistence doesn't work. He becomes quite suddenly and you wonder if you had done something wrong.

"Are you okay?" You asked after stepping out of the restaurant.

Morris looks whiplashed, lost in thought that you had ripped him from. His bright smile is back and he plays it off like it was nothing.

"Come on, pretty girl. Let's go skip some stones." Taking your hand, Morris leads you down to the water. He picks up some rocks and begins tossing them and you watch as they skip across the surface.

He shows you how it's done and when it's your turn the rock sinks almost automatically. He tries to show you again and you have to admit the second time is a tad bit better but it's still a pathetic attempt.

You try a few more times, stopping only when you hear him say your name.

"I'm heading out tomorrow," he admits to you quietly. "When I come back, will you go out with me again?"

You paused, not realizing that had ever been an option. Normally people went on one date and then another and then another. You had teased him about your next date but his response threw you for a loop and for a small moment you wondered if he didn't want another. Now he was giving you puppy dog eyes like you were bound to say no.

"When are you coming back?"

He shrugged, stepping closer. "Hard to tell. But will you?" He smiled then, full of boyish charm. "Gotta give me something to come back to."

You rolled your eyes and turned, tossing the rock as it sunk into the water. "Someone has to teach me this shit," you told him, smiling on your own as laughter erupted from him.

It was a week later when you heard back from Morris. You didn't worry about it because this was his job and you knew he was far across the sea, saving the day and everything in between.

You had just showered and was sitting in your bed, being lazy and comfortable when your phone began to ring. You looked it over, seeing it was Morris calling you and you slid your finger across the screen to answer it.

"Evening beautiful,"

"You made it out alive," You mused, laying back in your bed, your towel wrapped head nestled against the pillows.

"Always do. I didn't disturb you did I?"

You look over at the clock, checking the time. "It's barely nine."

"Not too late for a date then is it?"

You do a double-take, surprised by his question. "What are we gonna do at nine pm on a weeknight?"

"Are you doubting me, Y/N?" He laughs but softens suddenly. "We can wait until tomorrow. Or any other day of the week. I just got back and wanted to see you."

He sounded so sweet, so sincere. You had been away from one another for a week with no contact at all. She guessed he couldn't bring his phone on missions of whatever they called them, but he was back now and he wanted to see you.

So you agree. You dress and attempt to apply on makeup but he's over before you finish, knocking on the door. You hang out at your place, on your couch. He brought over food and you just eat together, talking and catching up.

"I don't know what you can tell me," you mutter, wanting to hear whatever he can say.

"Nothing special. Saved the day and all. Job well done for now."

"When do you have to leave again?"

Morris shrugs, toying with his food. "All depends. My team is useful so we get called on a lot. It can be a pain in the ass but no reason to complain about being too good at something."

"So you just...wait for the call?"

Morris leaned his head back against the couch, offering a frown. "It's not ideal. But I get paid to live nicely enough. I get to take out a pretty girl whenever she lets me."

"You say that like I'm not a cheap date."

"No lady is cheap and that's fine by me. You deserve to be pampered; even if it's just taken out at nine-thirty at night."

You laugh because even if it's cheesy, it's still one of the sweetest things you've ever heard. You carry on eating, moving to throw it all in the garbage once you're both finished. Morris follows you, staying close and watching as you work around your kitchen.

"You know. There's another reason I'm glad I came back." He mentions, taking the trash bag from you so you can refill the bin with another one.

"And what's that?"

"Well, you know what they say about the third date,"

You look over your shoulder then, raising a pointed brow at him. "Do I?" You asked. "Refresh my memory."

"The third date is when you get the first kiss. The first date is too soon and the second date is when you're testing the waters. But on the third date?" Morris shook his head, taking away as he stepped closer to you. "That's when you know it's for real. That you like this person and want more."

You find yourself speechless. Such an old fashioned theory that in reality should be laughable and yet you aren't chuckling, you aren't smiling. Morris was a grown man expressing how much he wanted to see you, how much he wanted to kiss you. Grown men didn't do things like that.

Or maybe they do and you've just never dated a grown man before. Just silly boys who wanted their dicks touched and someone pretty in their bed.

Morris moves in closer, making his way into your personal space and backing you up against the kitchen counter. He's close enough that his breath is on your face. It's warm and welcoming.

"Do you want more with me?" He asked quietly, those hazel eyes shimmering under the lights of your kitchen.

You've wanted a lot of things in your life. Things you've been lucky enough to have and things that seemed more like a dream, completely unreachable. Morris didn't seem like one of those things. He was here in front of you, offering you the world and all you had to do was take it.

And so you did.

You stepped forward, deciding to meet him halfway for the kids he had been waiting for. You kissed him slowly, just testing the waters out though it was obvious Morris had other plans.

He swoops you up, wrapping those strong arms around your frame as he deepens the kiss. It's more intense suddenly and you finally begin to realize just how much he wanted this. How much he wanted you. You found yourself lost in thoughts of him thinking of you while he was on his mission, one that was dangerous and lengthy.

You wondered if Morris spent his time thinking about you the way you had thought about him. If he truly did want more than just physical contact and he spent those nights in wherever he happened to be dreaming about seeing you again.

You've never thought so highly of yourself before. You never thought of yourself as someone worth thinking about. You're a good person but never could you imagine someone kissing you, wanting to see you the moment they got back home. The idea alone seemed so far out of reach but here he was. This amazing man who was holding you so close to him, sucking on your bottom lip as if you keep your lips attached for as long as possible until finally releasing you.

"Yeah." He whispers finally, the feeling of his warm breath tickles your cheeks. "Definitely worth the wait."

And just like that, with very little effort, you're completely smitten.

You get used to having a guy around. To having a boyfriend. It's nice at first, having someone to talk to aside from coworkers and friends. It's nice having someone to laugh with and kiss. It's also very nice to have someone always around, specifically someone who happens to be very useful and also very nice to look at especially when in uniform. You had never thought to see a guy in camo or more so, military dresses, would you attractive but Morris opened a lot of doors for you. Both literal and figuratively.

None of it is easy. How could it be? Regular relationships are hard but being involved with someone in special forces just flat out sucks. His schedule is wonky and sometimes he is gone for long periods. He isn't a doctor who is always on call and has to be pulled away in the middle of the night but he does get short notice sometimes.

The worst had been one night while you were at his place. You had gone on a mini-golf date and retired back to his apartment after destroying his ass. Morris is amusingly competitive and was playfully bitter over losing to you but was more than happy to have you make up for it with some adult-friendly fun.

You had yet to sleep with each other through this particular night seemed to be just right. He put some movie on while you sat in the couch and you both watched t for about three minutes before the arm that laid across your shoulder began moving downwards. You went from sitting beside him to straddling his lap with his hands on your hips holding you in place.

Foreplay wasn't your forte but it didn't take a genius to turn a guy on. Some heavy petting and tongue action seemed to be just the trick and as you found his hand slowly creeping up under your shirt, his door was suddenly open.

He moved swiftly, flipping you into the couch to block you from the intruder. You were scared out of your wits because of the sudden realization that someone very well could want him dead took over and for a few seconds, you just kept your eyes closed and clung to him, fearing the worst.

Morris realizes suddenly though he doesn't move automatically. "How the fuck did you my get in here?"

"You think we can't pick a few locks? We're well trained, Mouse." A man responds.

"This is illegal," Morris argues.

A second voice comes over this time a woman's. "You weren't answering your phone."

"Well, I'm sort of busy at the moment."

Suddenly the man comes into view and smiles. "Mouse has a little friend over." He acknowledging. "Hello, friend."

You open your mouth, possibly to say hello though nothing comes out. Morris shifts then, moving off you and going to stand in front of the man to block his view. "What is it you need so badly."

"Duke needs the information you gathered the other day." The woman explained from across the door.

"And this really couldn't wait?"

"What do you think?"

Morris clenches his jaw, turning his head to look back to you. With a heavy sigh, he leaves the room and retreats off to another part of the apartment. You sit up slightly, looking between the two. You don't know if they look like special forces because really, what does special forces look like outside of their uniform? If Morris hadn't told you that he was military then you wouldn't have ever guessed.

Nobody says anything to you. The woman is checking her phone while the guy is just smiling bashfully. When Morris returns he hands something to the man. "That's it. Tell Duke that he can come himself next time if it's so important."

"Tell him yourself," the man replied, frowning as the woman walked in and scooped up the file of information.

"We head out tomorrow at oh-eight-hundred." The woman responded, already heading out of the place.

Morris let out an audible groan. "Of course we do."

"She's cute, Mouse. Do you call her kitty?" The man questioned, chuckling to himself as he left.

Morris sighed again, going to relock the door after the departure of the others. He apologies to you, explaining who they are and whatnot but you brush it off. He doesn't have to explain anything to you. His job is big and important and most important very private. Whatever information they needed was very dire so who are you to fuss about it.

You stand to leave, searching the door for your shoes when Morris takes your hand. "Stay," he requests gently. You remind him that he has to leave tomorrow at six. Probably even before that, but he doesn't budge. "I'll leave you the key. You can come and go as you please until I come back."

The passion from before is gone so you know there won't be any sex tonight but it doesn't bother you much. You agree to stay because he wants you to and you follow him to his room for the night. Like his apartment his bedroom is pretty bland, not filled with much. You had mentioned it prior that he should take his place feel more like a home by adding a few things though Morris admitted he didn't see the point.

Before you, he had lived so sparingly. He went from mission to mission, more or less living for his job and nothing more. He had gotten quite cryptic one night and admitted that the lack of belongings made it easier for those who had to carry on for him after he passes. It was a cold slap in the face that his career of choice could very well end rather badly.

Not wanting to think about that now you dressed down for the night, thanking Morris when he passed you one of his shirts to sleep in. You couldn't remember the last time you shared a bed with someone or if you ever did. Without a word, Morris pulled you into his arms. He didn't come off as someone who enjoyed snuggling or spooning but he was full of surprises you had quickly found.

You slept peacefully in his arms, feeling utterly and completely safe in the warmth that was just him. When you woke you were alone in his bed, the pathetic chill of Morris' absence sent a shiver down your spine and you stayed in his bed for as long as possible before finally leaving.

You don't go back to his apartment right away. It feels strange without him there but a sudden idea sparks you to return. You bring a few things, some from your own home while others were purchased at stores in town. Little things to make his place feel more personal. Paintings and signs from his favorite sports team. A poster from a movie he had raves about that you framed and placed in the middle of the movie.

You didn't take many pictures together though the ones that you gave, yo upturn out and out in picture frames. It's so domestic you could cry and when Morris finally returns, he almost does the same. Gone were his blank walls and slightly bleak outlook.

It was almost a week when you saw him again, once again late into the night. Very late. The clock showed a single digit for the time and when you woke at the sound of the frantic knocking on the door you realized it was closer to sunrise than sunset.

Morris was at the door, standing in the rain looking like a drowned rat. Or maybe drowned a mouse.,you didn't understand why he was there. He could have waited until the morning or even the afternoon. Who knows where he had been or if he had even gotten any sleep.

You opened your mouth to speak, to question him and get him out of the rain but he cut you off swiftly.

"Did you put all that stuff in my place?"

You paused, unsure of how to respond. The answer was obvious. You brought the pictures and posters and knick-knacks. You wanted to take his place seem more comfortable and thought it would be a nice gesture. You never imagined he would be upset about it.

"The frames and everything else."

"Yes." You replied, forcing the words out from behind your teeth.

You opened your mouth to speak again, to apologize and promise that you would get rid of everything before he knew it but you never got to say a word. Morris was on your in seconds, kissing you deeply and holding you close despite his sopping wet clothing.

You fell into the kiss easily because how could you not? You missed him and he missed you, and even though it was ridiculously late you weren't going to push him away any time soon. He took the silent memo to continue and decided that enough was enough and lifted you into his arms.

Sometimes you forgot just how strong he was. Sometimes he would wear clothes that would make him look so average, so normal and then you'd get a reminder just like now that shows just how much effort he puts into his body for health and fitness.

He walked you to your room and plopped you down onto the bed. You watched with bright eyes as he peeled away from his wet clothing. You've seen him shirtless before, only for a few moments, but now was so much different. Now you were up close and personal with this beautiful creature and all you wanted to do was reach out and touch.

Morris let you because he wanted it too. It was very clear that you both wanted this, right here, right now. It wasn't ideal and it wasn't planned out, but neither of you could care. He used those deft fingers that pulled triggers on guns and missiles to open you up, his sticky-sweet voice whispering in your ear.

He said all the most wonderful things, bringing you closer to the edge. You had never gotten off on someone else's fingers before. Your own perhaps, late into the night when you were lonely and hungry for affection and a personal touch. You would lay back in your bed and watch a movie or listen to music or watch porn or maybe even listen to porn. Whatever the moment called for. Maybe you thought of someone specific or maybe you called out your name. Whatever did the job.

Now the only name you were crying out was his. Morris. Mouse. Morris L. Sanderson.

Such an interesting name. A lovely name. One that you wanted to hear and say again and again and again.

He muffles your whimpers with his mouth, lingering just long enough to remove the rest of his clothing. You expect him to dive right on in, using your juices as lubrication, but he never does. Instead, he wraps his hand around his cock, tugging and pulling on it as he swore and grunted, finishing off moments later.

You were both left panting, sticky and covered in a mixture of your seed. Morris moved to lay beside you, kissing you with a strange amount of passion for someone who just ejaculated all over your sheets.

You eventually remove those sheets and your sweat covered clothes. You snuggle up together on your bare mattress, those strong arms wrapped around you ever so tightly.

He thanks you for adding the things to his apartment, for trying to make it more comfortable.

"I wanted it to feel more like home." You confess, nuzzling against his chest.

You knew it was cheesy and disgustingly romantic, but you wanted to make him happy. To make his apartment somewhere he comfortable and wanted to return to after being away for who knows how long.

Morris breathes in your scent, his cheek resting against the top of your head. "It does. Well, almost."

You tilt your head, your own eyes locking on those shining hazel marbles. "Almost?" You mimic, wondering what it was you could have forgotten to add. Perhaps a few plants that he could water or maybe toss in a pet. Some fish or a golden retriever. "What's missing?"

Morris doesn't answer with words, because he doesn't have to. He tilts his head down and kisses you. Slow, with meaning, making it quite obvious that the thing that was missing from his apparent home is this. You and him, laying like this. In a bed after the bliss.

You knew it was cliche and silly. Something you normally would have chuckled just thinking of. But sometimes home isn't an apartment with photographs or house plants. Sometimes its a person. Sometimes it's you.

Things weren't rainbows and unicorns after that. Relationships went up and down and while sometimes it felt like the honeymoon stage would never, ever end while other times you felt like you had the whole universe against you.

You moved in together a few months after being together, which in theory was maybe a bit too quickly, but there was always that underlining fear that there may be no tomorrow. That though Morris promised to come back time and time again, there was always a possibility that he just wouldn't. You knew that was possible for any person.

Whether they be special forces or work at a 9-5 office job. You never know when it's your time, so why to bother waiting around for things to happen when you can just make them happen.

You made his formally lonely and blank apartment into a home. A place that you filled with plants that you watered and walls with even more pictures than before. You had discussed getting a pet, perhaps dog or cat or something crazy all together. One night you had talked about having children though Morris didn't comment much.

The world was full of possibilities, but your boyfriend didn't think to think of the future, because he didn't know what it would hold. The first time you had sex came later than expected, all after his strange confession that possibly leaving you with a child was a legitimate fear of his own. It seemed those in his line of work were not permitted to have families or relationships.

It wasn't against the rules, but the reality of leaving someone behind. And while that wasn't ideal, some people didn't care. Whether it be due to their reasons or wanting to carry on a legacy. Morris didn't like the idea of leaving a family behind. Or having a family outside of his team, to begin with.

But that was all before you. Now, things were complicated.

Morris came and went, following the orders of his higher-ups. The Screaming Eagles, as his sub-team had been named, were professionals and just as he had mentioned before, you can't complain about being too good at something.

At first, you don't let it bother you. He's always careful, always back within a few days. It's when he starts going more often and staying away far longer that you begin to get irked. You know you shouldn't. After all, if he didn't save the world, then who would?

It got scary a handful of times as while he did come back to you, sometimes he would be a bit more damaged than before. A scar here. Bullet mark there. One time he was in the hospital for over a week, having just barely dodged getting blown up.

It was terrifying, getting the phone call from someone you didn't know telling you that your boyfriend was laid up, just partial conscious with bruises and bandages. When you went to see him, he tried to crack a joke, tried to get you to smile, but you couldn't. You were happy he was alive, but that didn't change the turning in your stomach.

He was home for a while after that, healing up, but you knew it wouldn't be for long. His team needed him. Perhaps even more than you needed him. Teammates would show up out of the blue to check on him and while getting to know other Screaming Eagle members was exciting and brought a sense of normality to it, you couldn't help but be bitter.

Whether they be special forces or work at a 9-5 office job. You never know when it's your time, so why bother waiting around for things to happen when you can just make them happen.

The world was full of possibilities, but your boyfriend didn't think to think of the future, because he didn't know what it would hold.

It had been the largest fight you both ever had. You don't truly remember what even set it off, but before you knew it, you were screaming and fighting, arguing over things you wanted and didn't want.

How utterly unfair it was that he could come and go for days or even weeks and all you could do was wait for him come back.

"I always come back!" He shouted, his voice rising as the anger bubbled inside of him.

"For now." She shot back. "You came back after nearly being blown to pieces. And here you are, still healing, still carrying those physical and mental scars and you're already planning to go back."

"I have to go back. This is what I do. This is what I have always done."

"And I get that!" You insist. You aren't trying to get him to stop. You'd never do that to him. You knew Morris loved his work, you knew that this was what he was meant to do, but he had to understand. He needed to comprehend how unhappy you were in this situation.

"Then what?!"

"I'm scared!" You confess loudly. "I'm scared of not knowing where you are or what you're doing. I'm scared of you never coming back. And I know it's immature and I know I this is what you do, but I just..."

You threw your hands up, unsure of what else to say. What could you say? Your feelings were obvious. You were scared and sad, and unhappy. You wanted this man all the time and you couldn't have that. It was unfair and you were ashamed to feel this way, but you just couldn't help it.

"I'm not going to apologize, Y/N," Morris confessed, stepping closer to you. "We could break up and maybe we should, but I won't be the one to do it. I can't. Call me a selfish bastard, but I want you. I want things I never thought I would want. Never thought I could want."

Breaking up would have been easier. You could have scrapped it all as a wonderful memory and went back to your old apartment or find a different one. You could find another person who had a regular job and didn't disappear for days on end. Who wouldn't get blown up during a massive fight and didn't have a ridiculous codename?

"Say the word and I'll leave." He promised, reaching up with those strong hands to cradle your face.

The same hands that would pull the trigger and end the lives of the enemy were holding you so carefully like you were the fucking world.

"Just say it and it will all be over." He whispered, those hazel eyes bright and wide as he waited for you to make the choice.

All you would have had to do was say the word. He could have walked away and it would all be over.

But you didn't want to do that. You hated how much your heart was hurting, but you knew that the pain of being apart wouldn't be any less painful than the pain of being together even if you were separated time and time again.

So rather than saying the words and ending everything, you brought your lips to his, kissing him soundly. You caught him off guard, which was never easy to do as his senses were always spot on, but tonight you found yourself finally able to stop the special force's specialist.

He caught on quickly, of course, moving his hands from your face and down to your waist, lifting you into his arms. He didn't bother bringing you to your bedroom and instead dropped you right onto the couch where he ravished you ever so properly.

Sex had always been enjoyable but was it completely different from Morris. He was so attentive to you and your needs, wanting to get you off before he did. You had never been with someone who cared about you as much as he did. Who loved you as much as he did.

And you never loved anybody the way you loved him. Your Morris L. Sanderson. Your Mouse.

You enjoyed your final days together for as long as they could last. You went into the city and date multiple date nights. You spent days in bed, rolling around in the sheets and tucked away from the rest of the world. You went back to the bar where you first met and pulled Morris into the bathroom where you fucked his brains out, finally experience the thrill of having sex in a public place.

It was wild and spontaneous, something you'd only want to do with this one person.

You try not to think about when he'd have to go. He would return to his team and carry on saving the world. That day doesn't come quickly, but it does come eventually and you don't let it bother you. You can't because what is the point of crying? Of fighting? He'll come back. He always does after all.

So you kiss him goodbye and promise to see him again.

Morris leaves and you're left alone again, carrying on with life like always. You went to work and bought food for the house and watered your plants. You looked into getting a pet so your home wasn't so lonely when you were alone.

When Morris returned, it was the same as always. He kissed you wildly, spending a good while making love to you late into the night. Morris was a passionate person, but at no other time was the most full of need and desire than on the days when he would return.

Normally he wouldn't speak of what had gone down while he was away, but on some evenings would be more talkative and this night in particular. He mentioned that they were getting closer to finishing whatever was started and that a new plan was being made. You didn't understand what he was getting into and fell asleep listening to his voice.

When morning came, you cleaned around the room, finding no sign of a condom. You found Morris in the kitchen, eating cereal on the couch. He was rambling on about how lovely you looked, hair messy from sleep as you stood in nothing more than his tee-shirt and your panties.

"We forgot the condom." You mention to him, pausing to wait for him to get upset.

You knew there were other options for protection and whether or not you were on the pill was up in the air currently. Morris looked up from his cereal, swallowing his final bite. "I know." He admitted quietly. "Realized when we finished."

"You're oddly calm about this." You mention, thinking back to the long conversations you used to have with him about pregnancy and having a child. Neither of you was ready then but time went on and things changed.

You didn't know how you felt about the subject, mostly because you haven't thought about it for a while.

"Doesn't matter." Morris shrugs. "If it happens, it happens. No reason to worry."

"No reason to worry?" You repeat, raising a brow to him.

Morris bobbed his head, turning his attention back onto his cereal. "No reason to worry." He replied, his eyes focusing on the television before him.

There was no reason to worry. No pregnancy came and you began to wonder if Morris was disappointed because of it. Sometimes you could watch him watching you as if he was waiting for a chance to come that never would.

You use condoms when you have sex, though not every single time. Only when he knows he is going to leave, but never when he returns. It's an unspoken agreement of you two. Whatever happens, happens. You wouldn't push for it, but you wouldn't wholeheartedly try to prevent it either.

You both grow comfortable in the life you've created with one another until one day Morris throws a wrench in your plan. A wonderful wrench in the shape of a house. Not an apartment or a loft or a sublet. A house. An actual fucking house with a yard and a garden and multiple bedrooms.

You lose your mind in not so many words, unable to fathom that this is something you have. You're a homeowner. Your boyfriend bought you a house to stay in. A house that you could make your own. You don't believe him, insisting that all of this was just far too out of reach for either of you.

Morris is just standing there, smiling with his gorgeous smile. "You can make any place a home, but I thought . . . why not make it a bit more permanent?"

"This is . . . Morris!" You're flabbergasted, unable to fully process all of this.

So you jump his bones, laughing and smiling, kissing him with every ounce of happiness that you could muster. He carries you into the house that isn't exactly furnished but that doesn't matter. You make love on the floor, riding him into oblivion and crying out his name without worries of neighbors hearing through the walls.

You spend the weekend moving in, finding yourself thankful that Morris had a lot of friends who were strong enough to carry all your boxes for you. They stayed to celebrate afterward. Duke, and Roadblock, Clutch, and Lady Jaye. Everyone whose names you were just finding out.

You sat in your back yard, all of you drinking beer at you sat around a handmade fire pit as they talk stories about their past missions. You were seated on Morris' lap, with his arms around your waist as he held you tightly.

You laughed at the tales they told about your wonderful boyfriend, all of which were silly and wild and brave. When the night came to an end, Morris put out the fire and you were in the kitchen cleaning up. Duke and Jaye approached you, thanking you for the good night and wishing you a happy home warming.

"It's nice you know. Seeing him happy." Duke mentioned. Duke wasn't the type to say a lot, but when he spoke, you knew it meant something. "Keep it up," With a pat on your shoulder, the two left the house, leaving you and Morris alone in your home.

You were able to enjoy it for a few more days before the man was called away again. It was strange, being alone in this wonderful house. It was more open than the apartment and it would certainly be a lot to get used to, but you'd make it work.

Morris would come and go, come and go. You lived your life as well as you could. You were happy and sad, you missed him terribly but were always glad to see him come back.

You were laying in bed one night, one before he was supposed to leave. This trip was the biggest yet. Duke had come over a few nights before going over the planning and while you were in and out of the house, off to spend some time with friends, you caught a bit of the conversation. If they succeeded in this, then retirement was possible.

Retirement never even seemed like something attainable for Morris. He was too young. Too good at his job. But maybe, just maybe, it was something he'd want and could have.

You had made love slowly, letting only the light from the moon peek in through your window. You chose not to get dressed, allowing only the blanket to cover your naked bodies as you stayed wrapped up in one another afterward. No condom had been used this time around and Morris continued to kiss your cheeks and lips as you laid together.

"I have something for you," He admitted softly.

"Oh? And what is that?"

"It's in the nightstand." He said, tightening his arms around you. "But you can't have it yet."

"What?" You laugh.

"You can open it when I come back."

"Why bother telling me then?"

Morris just chuckles and kisses you. It was his personality. He was witty and charming and one hundred percent a wiseass. He would spoil you endlessly, but make you wait for it just to make a point across even if you didn't know what the point was.

When morning came, Morris was gone, leaving behind a note and a little stuffed mouse for good measure. It was plush and precious and you took hold of it, keeping it close to your heart. You roll over, going back to sleep so you could dream of this wonderful man. You dream of opening up your gift and picturing the life you'll have together.

A life full of happiness and joy. With pets and kids and everything in between.

A day passes and then another. Nothing you're not used to. On a particularly nice night, you go out to the water and begin skipping stones or well, attempt to. On the final try, you finally get it.

The small stone bounced across the water surface, disappearing off into the distance. You jump triumphantly, searching around to see if anyone was around to witness your achievement. You were alone, but it didn't bother you much.

It would be something for you to tell Mouse when he came home.

And he always came home.

Just like he promised he would.

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