#mia writes

“Well, how am I supposed to know that! I don’t know where you get your keys!” Her hand accidentally slides against the side of his face while they're moving, and she quickly apologizes for touching him the 20th time since they’ve been in there already.

This was a nightmare; he was very much not into touching. Well, not gentle touching; specifically, pushing people to the ground, tripping, or hitting funny traps was fine. Anything more, unless it was under very different circumstances, was unsavory. That stood even more for Ragatha for some reason. Her constant brushing, bending, and pressing was putting him on edge more than he’d like to admit. 

However, their quick movements to jerk back from each other when they touched a little more personal than knocking elbows and knees had the unfortunate effect of making the ball start rolling again, and they’d fall over each other anyway.

They roll a bit, crashing into each other, scrambling for some balance and impossible space at the same time. An elbow hits Ragatha’s face, and right as Jax laughs at it, they roll again, and she headbutts straight into his chin.

He makes a funny noise in the hit, and even in all their tumbling, he hears Ragatha stifle a laugh. It’s probably because his nerves are already fried, but he gets much more upset at this than usual. His eyes narrow in the dark, and Ragatha can sense her mistake. “Wait, wait, wait—JAX!”

Large hands clasp around her face before she knows it, and his skull crashes painfully with hers, only causing them to roll faster. “You’re such a jerk!” Ragatha slaps a hand straight to his face, and they officially start fighting. As they tumble around, everything hits harder than it needs to be. “Why do you always have to be like this?!”

“Me? You’re always the one who expects the worst from me, so why don’t I just give it!” An already bony knee that would just brush or barely poke a side is pressed in, and in return a plush heel goes straight for the cheek. “Ow! You little—for someone who acts so cheerful and caring all the time, that kick felt pretty personal, doll.”

“Maybe it was! Maybe I’m tired of being your punching bag!” Ragatha moves to slam into him but hits the side of the ball instead and quickly swivels to trip him. He catches himself just barely by grabbing the top of her head and pushing himself back up. “Ugh, I swear you have something personal against me! Sure, you mess with Gangle and Zooble, but you always find me just to bother me. WHY!?”

“Because you piss me off! Not everyone wants to be happy all the time! You can’t pretend like we’re not stuck here! Sweet little Dolly cares for everyone day and night.” He fakes a gag, “Give me a break!” 

“I’m not pretending anything! I know we’re stuck here; I’ve been here longer than you! I just want people to be happy while they can! Being miserable all the time doesn’t work for anyone but you!” Jax catches a fist going straight for his shoulder before she lands the hit, and she grabs his just as he reaches to grab her hair. He smirks at the annoyed huff she makes. “It’s you who's always pretending nothing matters here, like we can’t see right through you!”

“&*#& you!” He says with more emotion than he’s usually comfortable with.

“No, *&^% YOU!” Ragatha’s eyes widen for a moment; he rarely cusses unless in extreme situations, and even rarer does she cuss back. Part of her faulters wanting to check in on him and thinks she may have gone too far, but she’s reached an anger only he’s ever been able to pull out of her, so instead she stares him down.

They’d push against each other’s grip, practically growling at each other, entering an angry but silent staring match. They use the short stalemate to catch their breath and, honestly, their stomachs. But they still looked at each other as if they were happy to go back to rolling and fighting any second, but in reality, it was calling a break without actually admitting it. 

Naturally not adding momentum with their movement, the ball stopped turning them in large waves. This caused them to move closer to each other, feet no longer supported on the edges of the ball but only on the bottom. Ragatha looked away from Jax, only further annoyed she had to be closer to him, then noticed what was happening. She realized if they got even closer, like sitting back-to-back on the ball floor, it would probably stop moving altogether.

She looks at him excited at her discovery, and he gives her back a look like she’s crazy. And she takes another step forward to prove her point before talking, but this directly enters Jax's personal space, and he shoves her off, jerking them again. Ragatha huffs, anger building right back to where it was in an instant.

“Stop moving! If we just work together, we can get it to stop!” Ragatha says falling back at the other end, and Jax only takes this as an opportunity to make it move more. So she lands square on her face. She lets out an annoyed groan and stands up as best she can to the laughing rabbit directly across from her. “&@&* it!”

She can’t take it anymore and retaliates if anything just to keep her sanity. She stops saying sorry and tackles him, bringing her whole body tight to him in a hug. Jax, from what she knows hates personal touch, and despite just fighting, she wanted to respect that, but at this point they’re both going to blow chunks and roll in it if they don’t stop moving, and this could balance them out.

“WHAT are you doing? Let go!” Jax tries to push her off, but her face buries into his chest to hold him closer, and a shiver goes up his spine. He felt them stabilizing the ball, not able to go in full circles at their speed when their weight was so concentrated in one area. He did not like this. Even when he figured out what she was doing, he hated it. It felt weird, like it always did when she touched him too long.

As they're coming to a stop, Jax does his best to make room between them, and she actually tries to get up a bit before the ball creaks forward and she falls straight onto him again. Face closer to his than it’s ever been, and they're both staring at each other with all the bile of thinking it’s the other's fault for this mess or that they’re even trapped together in the first place.

This probably isn’t good for either of them. Their anger seemed to be reaching a boiling point in here. Finally forced to face it without being able to run away. They know too much about each other; this could really only go one way if they keep pushing it.

The next one to attack would escalate an everyday rivalry between them to out right war. There would be no coming back from this. Every hurt and anguish was laid out on the table, and words they could never take back were said and done. Never to care for each other again.

So why were they hesitant? Jax could guess why Ragatha was; even if this is the most pissed he’s made her, she’d never be the one to strike first. For all her bark she had no bite. But why not him? He had no problem hitting below the belt; he could finally be rid of her, so why?

He scrambled for clear thoughts, but with her this close, it’s hard to ignore the breath against each other’s face, cheeks, and neck. Even worse is how their chests are pressed together, and he’s sure Ragatha can feel his heart racing, and Jax can feel the softness of her breast that he hated to say he always wondered was softer than the rest of her and hated to know that he’s guessed right.

Suddenly he realizes just how fucking hot it is in here. Hot temper, hot breath, hot bodies. If they could sweat, they’d probably be dripping by now. They tried to adjust as the ball started to still, and Ragatha pulled back again, and the ball jerked as if it were punishment itself. Only landing her directly in his lap, and his hands grip her waist and neck for balance.

There’s a moment of pure awkwardness as they separate again before he bares his sharp teeth at her closer to her face than he ever thought he could be. “Get. Off.”

Her eyes quickly sharpen in annoyance as if he isn’t sharing the same embarrassment she is, not willing to be intimidated if only for a moment. And in that moment of pure defiance, she takes all the courage she can muster and says, “No.”

But her voice still breaks a bit, and her face must be as red as a tomato by now. She’s not so good at playing the tough guy, so after what seems like a millennium of meeting his glare, but maybe not as angry, her eyes finally dart away, needing just a second to think.

However, maybe this was just too damn intimate even for them or the tension between them right now would have to be cut with a knife. But the feeling of wanting to tear each other limb from limb and the desire for intimate touch neither had experienced in years were indistinguishable. So when she did take that break in eye contact, it went straight for his lips, and it only took the instant to reach his eyes again before the pressure between them erupted, smashing straight into an angry kiss. 

Teeth knocked together painfully in their effort to find each other. It was nothing like Ragatha was used to; her past partners were all sweethearts, and she thought soft, warm kisses were what she liked best. But Jax was anything but a sweetheart, and these kisses were all teeth, tongue, and lips gnashing together desperately trying to ease the heat blazing through their veins.

Jax feels his skin prickling in a very peculiar way. Like it often did with Ragatha but ramped up by 100. He figured that even though he didn’t like touch most times, but if it meant someone, in this case an incredibly annoying but pretty doll, moaning and wiggling on top of him, he didn’t seem to mind.

Her whimpers and gasps are music to his ears, and he loves the way it feels when his tongue is pressed against hers. It feels so her to be more quiet, as if she’s too scared to bother anyone with her sounds, which he thinks of as a challenge to take on. He grabs her thigh and shifts her so she’s more firmly on top of him, and the way his name escapes her lips is something he never imagined could come from her.

“%*@&, Raggy. Do that again.” He pulls back for a moment, but she presses a hand down on his chest, threading her fingers through the fur there, and presses him more firmly against her.

She catches his lips wet and hot, pleading with him, “I will, I promise, just don’t stop kissing me. Not yet. Please.”

Something in him that’s completely feral takes him over at her beg, and he flips them over surprisingly smoothly for their situation, fitting in a spot right between her legs. He holds her wrists over her head by one hand and uses the other to grab her face and kiss her hard. His sharp teeth pull at her bottom lip, and she whimpers under him. 

The ball, which they had been a hindrance until now, only added fuel to the flames. Their sounds of pleasure bounced off the walls, echoing back to them, and the rocking helped in a more sensual way. 

“Why does this feel so good?” Jax says to release her wrists so when he goes straight for her neck, she can clasp her arms around him. Their clothes can’t come off, but they could be bent and pulled, and call it pathetic, but there’s a special kind of thrill to when Ragatha presses her hand under one of the straps of his overalls that he can’t help the groan that falls out of his throat against her neck.

“I don’t know.” She mumbles an answer even though he wasn’t really asking. He has to admit licking fabric wasn’t the hottest thing in the world, but the way she fully wrapped her legs around him and let his hands wander wherever he wanted as he did was sure worth it. His teeth snag on a small stitch going upward on her neck, and it causes her to jolt, and he tries to do it again but accidentally snaps it. 

“W-Why was that so hot? How did you know how to do that?” She says it's like the breath has been taken straight out of her body.

“Ehhh, been making out since middle school.” He jokes for a second, fully intending to get right back in it when he hears a small laugh and almost ignores it until it’s followed with an under-the-breath.

“With your pillow apparently.”

His head snaps up, and she looks like a deer in the headlights, like he wouldn’t be able to hear her right next to his ear. “Want to run that by me again, dollface?”

“Sorry, I j-j- just meant that the only way you’d be making out in middle school would be…” Ragatha’s foot-in-mouth hits her before she even finishes, and she at least has the sense to stop when his eye twitches in annoyance.

“Congratulations, Ragatha, you officially ruined the mood!” He moves himself completely away from her neck. 

“That’s not what your hands seem to think.” She says she proved her point by pressing into them where they landed on her curves and him giving a squeeze in response. “I can’t believe I’m the one who has to tell you to lighten up a little, bun.”

“Bun!?”

“Yeah, since you always call me nicknames, I thought… since we, you know.” Her words tumble off.

“Just because we dry-humped—”

“JAX!” She squeals appalled, but he doesn’t stop.

“—doesn’t mean you get a nickname; that’s my thing.” 

She scoffs, “You don’t own nicknames.”

“In here I do toots!” He says, pointing a finger in her face, and she slaps it out of the way.

“Don’t point your finger in my face!” At this point she’s all but separated from him as much as possible as they are on top of each other.

“Why? Somewhere else you want me to point it, doll?” He gives her the biggest shit-eating grin he can give her, followed by her yelling his name again. But he only responds by flipping over and becoming an unmovable annoyance as they argue.

Aside from being trapped in a ball together, it’s no different than the argument they had this morning. They argue like any other day of the week, like nothing happened between them at all.But it did, and they can feel it. At least Jax can.

Maybe it’d change once they were out of here. They could both agree to leave things back in here and not look back. But he had a creeping feeling that wouldn’t work because as they were going at it, something dawned on him. This wasn’t just a pent-up explosion of passion because of proximity. If he was stuck in here with Zooble, they’d both be the closest to death they could get to by now. He’d wanted to touch her for a while. Longer than the couple seconds it took to throw her in the deep fryer. 

Touching and being touched by Ragatha felt like having an itch scratched that’s been on him for years, and he wanted more in any way he could. Which is why he flipped over in the first place. The moment was over. He’s more comfortable with their bickering anyway. Still, he did purposely flip over so he’d be lying on top of her like a sack of bricks, so she had to try to push and pull at him to at least get him into a more comfortable position. 

He will say the new way he’s been able to tease her just in the last 10 minutes is something he’s going to have fun tormenting her with. The way she’d get red and so frustrated is something he can’t just let slip through his fingers! Not like there’s anything more to it. She definitely didn’t want to make out with him now or maybe ever, which is fine. Probably.

Yep! This was just a new door opening for more of his kind of fun! Nothing more, nothing less.

She starts ranting in his ear after a particularly dirty joke, and he zones out, and the memory flashes back to him of her face when she was panting and begging for him to kiss her. “God, you’re pretty,” Jax mumbles out by accident.

Ragatha stops, not fully hearing him. “What did you say?”

You and Remus had met in the Library on a rainy afternoon, and just sat together in silence while reading. Over time you had started small talk, and that led to conversations, which then led into a friendship, turned secret relationship.

It’s not that you wanted it to stay a secret, however, Remus and you were both scared of backlash from Sirius, and you were terrified of your parents; therefore, they could never find out.

Remus notices that you’re too far, too deep into your book to notice him. To pull you back into the present, he carefully rests a hand on your thigh and rubs gently, coaxing you back into the real world.

You flinch slightly at the contact before looking up to see your boyfriend. “Oh, Rem, hi. How long have you been there?” You ask, shutting your book to give him your undivided attention.

Remus ignores you, smiling gently, not sympathetically though, because he knows by now that you won’t accept it. “What do you need from me, Dovy? To talk?” He’s more than aware that you are not actually going to open up right now, he can see it in your eyes from a mile away.

“Can you just hold me?” You whisper, your words laced with vulnerability. 

Remus’s eyes soften before he shuffles you around, sliding onto the chair behind you, and situating you onto his lap. He doesn’t say anything. He just holds you, gently stroking your hair, occasionally leaving a kiss to the crown of your head. 

When he thinks you're almost asleep, you speak again, “Nothing ever lasts forever, Rem.”

“I know, love. What are you referring to?” He asks, dread filtering into his mind. The lycanthrope has a love-hate relationship with your deep thoughts. Some bring on deep meaningful conversations, whereas others are filled with unnecessary insecurity and doubts.

“Us,” You mutter the exact words that he was dreading.

“No.” Remus says sternly, a tone you rarely hear him use. “I will always love you,” He turns you so you’re sitting sideways in his lap, him making direct eye contact with you, making sure that you hold it. “We’re not doing this, you need to get rid of whatever negative ghosts that are haunting your mind, because we are not breaking up. If I need to help chase those ghosts away, then so be it, but you cannot let them dictate our relationship. Ours, not theirs.”

You nod, burying your head into his neck, breathing in the calming scent of cocoa and old books, mixed with a hint of pine. 

“I want to hear you say it,” He whispers, nudging you with his shoulder.

You lift your head from the crook of his neck and smile weakly. “Ours, not the ghosts.”

“Exactly right, Dove.”

Remus leans in and gently presses his lips to yours, and you reciprocate before he leans back, pulling you into his chest. “I love you,” He whispers, again, knowing you needed reassurance. “And I always will.” 

You nod, “I love you, forever and always.” It comes out in a whisper, but Remus hears it anyway and presses his forehead against yours, but not before pressing a kiss to your nose.

He slowly reaches up and presses the pads of his thumbs where he knows your dimples are and where he knows they should be right now. “Can you smile for me, Love?”

And you do. Because you love him, more than you thought you were ever capable of. You smile crookedly, showing Remus that it is indeed a true smile, and he leaves a kiss on both dimples before pulling away and smiling back at you.

You bring your own thumbs to his face, rubbing gently over the hundreds of freckles scattered along his face.

He kisses you gently once more before grabbing your book, “Now, what were we reading before I interrupted?” He questions teasingly. 

“Well, I was reading that,” You admit sheepishly, pulling out a quill and ink container from your bag.

“The Wonderful Wizard of Oz?” Remus raises a teasing brow.

“Oh hush,” You shove his shoulder. “I was in the mood for something different and it was in the muggle book section. It seemed interesting.” 

“No judgment from me then, Dove.” He whispers, opening the book at your marked spot.

And that is exactly how you and Remus spend the rest of your day. Him reading to you, and you drawing thin vines, small flowers, and a variety of constellations on his various scars while you listen to his soothing voice tell the story of a girl with a dog that somehow got sucked into a tornado and transported into the world of Oz. It didn’t make sense to you, but Remus was reading it, and that was all that seemed to matter to you at that very moment.

-

“Blow A-Train.”

At first, there was disbelief. Looking around the room, the Deep turned to A-Train, confused and surprised, who looked back at him in equal parts confusion.

“What?” He asked.

The darting eyes within the conference room soon locked their gaze on Homelander as his next words left his mouth.

“I’m not kidding,” Homelander said. His tone was cold- Unwavering. “Go over there, pull out A-Train’s cock, and blow him.”

The next actions were perfectly clear to the Deep. Slowly, he got up. The sound of the chair shifting as he rose broke the uncomfortably, deafening silence that had swept over the conference room. He soon stood face to face with A-Train, who was told to get up from his seat.

The two men exchanged looks. The Deep could feel A-Train’s gaze of disgust drilling into his skull. The Deep hoped A-Train could understand the sympathy of this situation, but as he lowered himself down to his knees, and as his big, blue eyes locked onto his, A-Train could see nothing but coward.

“Sex is just a spectrum, right, bro?”

A-Train rolled his eyes, glancing over to Homelander, hoping- praying, that his outlandish order would just be a joke. After seeing his gaze remain fixed in a cold, stoic stare, A-Train could feel could the sting of a mental slap to the face. When would he have ever known Homelander to make a joke like that? After Starlight- Annie, had left, and Maeve turned out to be a traitor, shit had completely hit the fan for the ones who stayed. Homelander was losing leverage left and right. He had to make an example of the ones who were scared enough to remain.

The sound of A-Train’s belt falling to the floor broke his train of thought as well as the uncomfortable silence that filled the room. A-Train bit the inside of his cheek, feeling Deep’s gloved hands shakily pull out his cock from within the blue spandex. The crushing weight of exposure almost felt painful upon realizing every eye in the room was on them, about to watch a humiliating and shameless display of their spinelessness.

“You put your mouth around my cock, and you’re a fucking dead man,” A-Train whispers almost inaudibly through gritted teeth. At first, he thought the threat was a little too quiet. The others in the room hadn’t caught it, and The Deep seemed to pause for a split second, until Homelander’s voice abruptly broke the uncomfortable silence, making everyone jump.

“You’re not the one calling the shots here, A-Train,” Homelander piped up loudly. He turned his attention to the Deep. “Deep,” Homelander continues, his voice lowering back to that clinical tone, “Blow him, or I turn that pathetic creature you have hiding in your closet, into calamari. How about that?”

With a nervous chuckle Deep put a hand behind his head. “Heh, that would just be ridiculous, sir, I mean, I don’t even have a-” The Deep’s poor attempt at diffusing the situation with laughter proved fruitless as Homelander maintained that same cold stare. A-Train’s secondhand- embarrassment only worsened.

The Deep’s blue eyes looked up at A-Train with sympathy, who refused to make eye contact with him. Nervously, the Deep’s eyes fell on what was in front of him. A-Train’s cock was unsurprisingly flaccid. His cock seemed to be a bit above average in length, but was way girthier. It was intimidating, but if Homelander told him to blow it, especially at the threat of his dear, Ambrosius, he could manage it.

Running a gloved thumb over the head of A-Train’s cock, Deep desperately tried keeping his composure.

Ok, Kevin. You’ve got another man’s dick in your hand and the entire room is watching you. Don’t fuck this up. How do I not fuck it up? Oh god. What would a girl do? I don’t know what a girl would do, I’m not a girl. Shit, I can’t even use a frame of reference, I can’t even remember the last time I had a half-decent blowjob. From a human at least. Cassandra sucked, and I’m no octopus. I mean, a dick is kinda like a tentacle, right? What am I even supposed to do here? God, is this what Starlight felt like? Shit, this does not feel good.

While the Deep was reeling with his inner monologue, the rest of the room just saw him spaced out for several minutes, absentmindedly stroking the tip of A-Train’s cock, holding in his groans at the rhythmless stimulation, sending a shudder of desperately needed arousal in an otherwise, unarousing situation. This was agony.

I mean, he’s hard now, which is good? At least that’ll give me something to work with; some structure. At least, I assume it’ll be easier to work with. Aw shit, I thought about the logistics of sucking a cock. Does that make me gay-

“Goddamn it, man, this is taking too long.” A-Train grunted. The Deep could feel A-Train’s hands pull his head forward onto his stiffened cock, taking the entire length into his mouth. As the Deep choked out a cough at the sudden intrusion, A-Train began to thrust into his mouth at a steady pace.

If not for his gills, Deep was sure that he would’ve suffocated, feeling his throat constricting around A-Train’s cock. Deep’s hands began gripping onto A-Train’s leg’s for balance, feeling himself gagging as A-Train’s pace quickened. Deep let out a whimper that almost wasn’t heard through the gagging.

“Quit being such a baby, serves you right for being a pathetic punk ass.” A-Train chastised, continuing to fuck into Deep’s mouth.

The Deep soon felt his lips touch the base of A-Train’s cock. At that same moment, he could feel the tip of it reach the back of his throat, pumping violently. The ferocity of A-Train’s thrusts along with the loud gagging and blood roaring through his ears made Deep feel like he was sucking off a jackhammer.

Deep unexpectedly felt a hand on top of his, squeezing tight. “I don’t enjoy this as much as you, but- fuck, I j-just, wanna get this over with, as, as quick as possible.” A-Train gritted out, nearing his climax.

It was at that moment, Homelander cleared his throat. “Deep, get up.”

Like an obedient little dog, Deep pulled away from A-Train’s cock, coughing up a mixture of saliva and pre-cum as he wobbly got to his feet. A-Train shot Homelander a confused, irritated glare.

“I believe I said ‘Deep, blow A-Train,’” Homelander began. “Not, ‘A-Train, throat-fuck Deep, like a depraved animal.’”

The hot rush of equal parts shame and anger swept down A-Train’s spine. His face began to flush with embarrassment, trying and failing to conceal it. It was even worse when he glanced over to the Deep, with A-Train’s pre-cum dripping down his shit-eating grin.

“You didn’t do what I told you to, so as punishment, you don’t get to cum.”

A-Train stared at Homelander with disbelief. Homelander’s cold stare drilled a hole into the back of his head worse than his lasers ever could. The longer A-Train looked at him, mouth agape with words failing to come out, he could see Homelander’s lips curve ever so slightly into a sadistic grin.