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kquil · 3 months

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POLY MARAUDERS | HEROES IN TATTOOS PRT.6

06 : SELFISH DESIRES

SUM : it's your chance to make amends and push aside your selfish desires - your heart will ache but they're worth it

TAGS. : modern au ; muggle au ; tattoo artist james potter ; piercer remus lupin ; angst ; idiots in love ; unexpected turn of events ; sirius is the main character here ; jk jk ; it's you~ hehe~ ; you'll see what i mean ; wolfstar have a heated argument ; i almost cried writing it ; i hate seeing them like that ; poor james ; james needs a hug ; regulus makes an appearance! ; dramatic sirius black ; regulus is a good brother ; sirius being an instigator ; we love him for it though ; you can't just leave them again! ; no fluff here kiddos ; but kiddos stay away! ; just cover your innocent eyes!

LENGTH : 3.7k

← PREV. : 05 | DRUNK AND CIGARETTE SMOKE

“You’re disgusting,” Sirius manages an indifferent glance over at his younger brother before resuming his miserable, unmoving position on the sofa — Regulus’ sofa. The obvious detachment Sirius has to the situation only stirs his younger brother’s bubbling anger, “It’s almost been a full month! And you’re letting yourself rot away on my sofa; get a hold of yourself!” No response. Regulus shakes his head with a drawn out sigh, “you usually don’t stay around this long whenever there’s an argument… I wonder what’s happened this time…”

Deeming his older brother completely hopeless, Regulus returns to his sparse but sleek kitchen just as the kettle whistles its readiness to be poured for tea.

Sirius breaths an audible sigh and grimaces at the stench of his breath. The mix of excessive alcohol, countless cigarettes and mountains of junk food didn’t make for a good concoction on his tongue, definitely not for fresh breath. When was the last time he had brushed his teeth? He brings a hand up to push straggling strands of hair away from his view but grumbles when the curls had knotted up too much for him to comb his hair back uninterrupted. Stone grey eyes look down at his figure, stagnant and pale, weighed heavy from low spirits.

What followed the night you left their flat was the worst fight they have ever had. It was mainly between him and Remus while James remained in the background, too downhearted to contribute anything to the verbal warfare happening before him. He was spoiled with love since birth. As an only child with loving parents, who never fought in front of him, whenever Sirius and Remus argued, James was left paralysed with despair. It was always shocking to him how nasty those fights became; his parents never fought like that. Sirius could see it in his sweet hazel eyes that James wanted desperately to have peace but didn’t know how to steer things in that direction. He had tried before, many times, to defuse the situation but both Sirius and Remus were too stubborn and hot-headed from the argument as well as their suddenly stark differences in opinion to back down.

As unfortunate as it is to think about, these fights happened often, recurring in the same exact way – originating from opposing opinions, primarily between him and Remus. They would try to keep it together but it would just keep piling up until someone snaps and then there’s no dispelling their disputes. James either takes a side or none at all (usually the later) and Sirius storms out of the flat to stay with Regulus.

He should feel guilty for being such a burden to his younger brother. He should have more pride in himself than to allow Regulus to ever see him in such a depressed and unpleasant state. Lack of hygiene, self care and self maintenance manifests into something so repulsive and unsightly, Sirius would usually be back and making amends within a week or two – encouraged by his own lack of cleanliness and his commitment to run from the disease of laziness.

But it’s been more than that now. Nearly a month, Regulus says. Time just passes by, slow and tolerant, so unlike him, and yet, Sirius still managed to lose complete track of it. This is the longest they’ve ever had a dispute without reconciling.

His own stubbornness is definitely a factor. He had been right all along. If only they, mostly Remus, had listened to him. James was fully on board but Remus was stubbornly defiant and managed to convince the former otherwise.

“Do you think she’s the type of person who would embrace such an unconventional relationship with open arms?!”

“That’s not what I’m saying, Moony,” Sirius grits his teeth, his inner thoughts and reasoning ached to be heard and let out coherently. In his mind, it all made sense to do things the way he suggests, so why couldn’t his boyfriend understand him?! It doesn’t even seem like he’s trying to listen to him at this point! “She won’t understand if we don’t say anything to her! We have to be forward and bold! Do it now before something happens!”

“Nothing. Is. Going. To. Happen!”

“How can you be so sure? We need to be honest with her, it’s not fair to her and it’s, frankly, deceitful to keep her in the dark about all this!”

“We can’t be too sure that she’ll accept us. If that happens then we’ll never see her again– I don’t want that, do you?!”

“We won’t know unless we say something, do something, anything!”

“Please just trust me, Siri,” Remus begs, his loud voice lowering to a soft plea, his beautiful brown eyes no longer fierce or piercing but kind and warm again, with a hint of fear. Sirius can sympathise with that creeping terror, an anxiety that wants to swallow you whole and keep you in a dark abyss for eternity, “I don’t want to frighten her…”

The first time, Sirius gave in, weak for his love and weak for the reasoning behind his proposal on the matter concerning you. The dark-haired tattooist couldn’t fault his lover for that but, in hindsight, he should have argued his side more, maybe then, you wouldn’t have disappeared like that…

“Hey, your phone won’t stop pinging,” Regulus alerts, appearing out of thin air and surprising Sirius enough to sit up and alert with wide eyes, “will you finally read their messages to you?” with some reluctance, Sirius reaches for his phone and proceeds to look through his messages while Regulus takes a seat opposite him, a steaming cup of tea in hand.

The younger Black brother was just about to begin reading another one of his classic novel favourites when a rush of air flew by him, ruffling the small strands of hair and whipping about the billowing steam from his mug of tea. Moments later, the sound of his shower turning on full blast echos through his flat and a smile graces his lips.

“It’s about time…”

Lingering guilt had plagued you all night long and you barely managed to get a wink of sleep. It, however, meant that you were able to better prepare lunch for the boys the following day. While cooking, you abandon all negative feelings to focus on only the good, not wanting any harmful emotions to diffuse into the food and saturate it with bad tastes. Your eyebags weren’t a pretty sight but it was easily fixable with a touch of makeup.

You tried to look your best for the day. Fortunately, the early summer sun inspired your motivations further. Yes, you’ve made the terrible mistake of selfishly pushing them away to nurse your own battered soul and unrequited feelings, but this was your time to make amends, to make things right… to see Sirius again.

You never felt right after you accused him of cheating on Remus and James with each other, only to find out that he was far more loving and loyal than that. You were embarrassed and ashamed to have ever thought so negatively about him, jumping to conclusions like an immature, thoughtless child. It was wonderful seeing James and Remus again, your heart was practically soaring in your chest as it disregarded all lingering feelings of misery and dejection. But now, your chest felt incredibly tight as your heart ached to catch a simple glimpse of Sirius.

You carefully pack away the lovingly prepared food and desserts into your largest, most durable shopping bag before getting dressed. It was only natural that you managed to make more than you usually made for the boys, seeing as you wanted to spoil them rotten after being so childish the last few weeks. Since the weather was pleasant, you opted for a cute mini dress with a light, flowy material that was comfortable and soft. Over top, you wore a cropped cardigan that had long sleeves, enough to reach past your fingertips. For jewellery, you wore a simple necklace and slipped into a strappy pair of mid-heeled platforms that weren’t too tall. Casual but cute.

Approaching the studio doors, your grip on the strap of your bag tightens and your breath hitches. They hadn’t taken the notice down and the bold, red letters of their ‘CLOSED’ sign glared at you angrily.

Were they inside? Should you knock? Neither Remus or James actually agreed to your sudden choice to meet for lunch the night before. Did this mean that they didn’t want you to be in their lives anymore?... But… but you wanted to make things right! You wanted to apologise! You want to be friends with them again! You’ll tell them right away – tell them how you would do anything just to remain by their side, even if it’s just as a friend, you’ll be happy for them! You won’t be selfish anymore, you won’t covet anything more than friendship with them, that’s all you want! Not that they’ve ever heard of your true desires—

“Well?” A familiar voice speaks up behind you, putting an abrupt end to your panicked inner monologue, “Aren’t you going to knock?”

Swiftly spinning in place, you smile brightly at the biker and tattooist standing before you, dressed in all black, with heavy, lace-up boots and his signature leather jacket, “Sirius!”

He doesn’t breathe a word to you, eyeing your hefty bag before briefly meeting your eyes and making his way over. His long strides made it so that he reached you in no time but he didn’t stop. With a light gasp, he had backed you up into the left of their studio’s double-door front entrance. You held your breath and kept your eyes shut tight, not knowing what to do as your heart pounded deafeningly against your eardrums.

A moment passes and you feel his hand brush against yours before your portly bag of packed food is taken from you. A wave of relief washed over your aching shoulder as the weight disappeared but such a diminutive alleviation of discomfort couldn’t swamp the trepidation in your heart. Sirius was different.

“Siri–”

“Let’s head inside,” he had opened the right hand door and easily slipped through with your bag. Alone and in the quiet, you felt like crying. You wanted to cry, desperately but you knew that it would offer little to no reassurance. So, with a heavy heart, you followed Sirius inside and closed the studio door behind you.

The air was stale but, in it, lingered a familiar scent that you had come to love, it was a clean, almost clinical smell from the regular use of disinfectant and bleach. You love this parlour so much, it was filled with so many good memories, ones of soft affection through tender words and gentle caresses. Despite the earlier interaction, you couldn’t help but smile just from the wave of romantic sentiment washing over you.

“You’re here,” Remus greets with a tired smile as James sits on the opposite end of the sofa with a shy grin directed towards you, his hazel eyes looking elsewhere.

“Sorry if I’m late,” you managed a weak smile, “I didn’t know if the door was open or not. Thankfully, Sirius was there to help me in,” Sirius didn’t sit down despite the many available seating spaces and chose to lean his back against a far wall, instead. James couldn’t meet your eyes and Remus was sneakily massaging his temple as he leaned his face against his large hand, “let’s eat, shall we? I hope you guys are hungry,”

It was never this awkward. Or quiet. Especially when sharing your homemade lunch together. James would usually be giving you endless praise through large, mid-chewed mouthfuls while Sirius laughed at the ridiculous sounds and faces he’d pull trying to speak coherently through the mouthful of food, and Remus would shake his head, his amusement by the display evident in the warm glimmer of his eyes. However, James doesn’t have as big of an appetite today and Sirius stands alone with his tupperware, barely touching his food. Remus is the only one eating a substantial amount besides you. Although, you’ve gradually slowed your own chewing.

What have you done?...

What happened to all of you?

Your shame brought your gaze down, making your head weigh heavier than usual as you give up on communicating anything with the boys. This wasn’t how it was meant to go…what should you do now? The pain in your heart was unbearable.

Shoulders slumped and confidence dried up, you struggled to think of what to do. You should have prepared a speech or something. It was naive of you to think that simply coming over with a homemade lunch would fix anything. Things are never going to be the same, no matter how much you hope and pray for them to be.

You’re hopeless… completely and utterly hopeless…

This was your worst fear come to life. You had feared rejection but seeing them unloving towards each other, barely communicating and broken apart, your stomach collapsed in on itself as your heart fell to a million pieces. You didn’t utter a single word of loving them romantically aloud and yet, you still managed to get in between their relationship. This was a sentiment of how selfish of a person you are.

How could you do this to them?! They were your friends, who saved you from the worst night of your life, and you repay them like this?! Shameful. Disgusting. You don’t think you could ever look at yourself in the mirror again.

The skirt of your mini dress blurs on your lap and you have to bite your lip to keep from sobbing out loud. The tears, however, you couldn’t stop them. Hopefully, they’re all too distracted to see you silently weeping and you can gather yourself before turning tail and running out of there.

Today is a complete disaster—

“Don’t cry, angel, please!” James jumps up and rushes to your side, kneeling down at your feet as he takes your hands in his and tries to meet your gaze through the puddle of tears in your eyes. His words immediately catch Remus and Sirius’ attention and they both begin to make their way over, evident worry swimming in their eyes but you refuse to acknowledge any of that as your mind drowns in all manner of negative thought.

You shake your head, hearing the flurry of footfalls around you and wishing them away silently, “I shouldn’t have come here today…” you whisper.

“What was that?” James patiently asks, voice soft and sweet and kind, it makes you want to fall into his arms.

“I’m sorry,” you speak clearer and stand abruptly, “enjoy the lunch,” the haste and sorrow in your shaking voice makes their heart drop and they’re brought back to that fateful night once more. You don’t meet their eyes as you turn and push past them to leave, almost running through the hallway of their studio just to reach the door and make a quick escape.

“THIS!” Sirius’ roaring voice suddenly cuts through the studio like a knife, making you stop in your tracks and turn around slowly. The door to the lounge room was still open, before it Sirius and Remus stood in an aggressive confrontation, both taking on a defensive stance as they faced each other, all while James remained in the background, clutching at his head as he slumped forward on the sofa, “THIS IS WHAT I MEANT! IF YOU HAD JUST LISTENED TO ME–”

“I DIDN’T SAY WHAT I SAID WITHOUT REASON SIRIUS! YOU KNOW MY EXACT THOUGHTS ABOUT ALL THIS!” Remus shouts back, the veins in his neck bulging out from his fierce anger, the blood rushing in his cheeks making him look just about ready to violently explode.

“BUT–”

“—YOU CAN’T FAULT ME FOR THAT!” Remus continues, not allowing Sirius to speak.

“WELL YOU CAN’T FAULT ME FOR MY REASONING EITHER!”

You’re horrified at the scene. Sirius and Remus look ready to tear each other apart as James looks on hopelessly, not knowing what to do or how to diffuse the situation, completely torn between supporting one or the other. Without thinking, you rush back and skid to a stop between the two hot-blooded men. Their fuming rage was like a turbulent inferno whose flames licked viciously at your skin, ready to burn you and spread the hostility.

“The both of you need to calm down!” you shout, pushing them away from each other and creating a safe distance between. Your tears had already run dry, replaced by the trembling terror shaking your limbs.

“Don’t worry about us Dove,” Remus manages to voice through gritted teeth, his glowering eyes never leaving Sirius’, “you can leave and we’ll sort this out,”

“Sort this out like usual huh?—”

“—Don’t taunt me, Sirius,”

“That won’t solve anything, you idiot!” Sirius flings his arms up and James just barely manages to pull you away from being accidentally hit. Neither of the two seem to notice and James expresses his apology in lovingly nuzzling your temple, his lips puckering to kiss your skin but refraining and stepping away abruptly. You try not to feel the heartache his actions elicit in you.

“SHUT UP!” you’ve never heard Remus sound so angry and venomous before, it makes your heart stutter in fear and worry. You can’t leave now; this disagreement can’t end well without some form of intervention and James isn’t fairing too well with that – he needs someone there for him too, just to feel, somewhat, grounded through all of this, “She doesn’t have to hear all of this!”

“We wouldn’t have to be saying ‘all of this’ if you had. Just. LISTENED. TO. ME!”

“You’re being ridiculous!”

“Ridiculous?!” Sirius growls lowly, his countenance scrunching up into a foul expression —an antithesis to his elegant features, “I’ll show you!” it was then that Sirius turns to face you and approaches with purpose in his long strides, unstopping like he did earlier when outside the studio.

“SIRIUS—!”

Sirius backs you up into the wall behind you, “—Everything Could Have Been As Easy As Doing This!” you didn’t know what to prepare yourself for but Sirius firmly gripping your chin and pulling you into a deep kiss was not one of them. In your shock, you let out a surprised but muffled moan, slowly falling into the blissful embrace and reciprocating eagerly.

Did you faint earlier? Was this all a dream?...

…Dream or not, you like this very much!

James and Remus watch at the bold display, disbelief shining clear in their eyes as Sirius has his way with you. But you don’t see them, you don’t see anyone or anything, all you know is that Sirius kisses like an experienced lover from fantasy and he wasn’t shy about loving you up. Not knowing what to do with your hands, you let Sirius guide them over your head to cuff your wrists together with his large hand, his other snaking around your waist to pull you closer and deepen the kiss.

He tastes like spearmint gum and smokey cigarette smoke, his lips tinted in cherry lip balm for sweetness. What an addictive taste. You can’t get enough.

But air is a necessity and just as you were beginning to run out of breath, Sirius pulls away, panting heavily. He doesn’t wait for a single second to pass before diving his head into your neck, where he peppers feathery but fervid kisses along your sensitive skin and smiles to himself when you slip out a moan. You sound beautiful. He needs to hear more. Sirius doesn’t stop, he sucks and licks and kisses and nuzzles along your neck like the tease he is, drawing out every quivering whimper and pretty moan you were desperately trying to contain.

You keep your eyes tightly shut, too embarrassed to meet the eyes of Remus or James. Their gaze on you left behind a searing, phantom mark that developed into a displeasing itch. An itch that could only be satisfied if they kissed you too.

…So selfish. God! When will you stop?!

Ashamed of your gradually increasing volume, you seal your mouth shut in a stubborn attempt to suppress your pleasure. How did his lips and tongue feel so good on your skin? His touch made your knees weak and your legs shake, without his support, you don’t think you would stay standing for long.

Just as you were able to swallow every embarrassing sound that tried to escape, James was beside you, his warm breath on your cheek as he silently urged Sirius to give way, “you need help staying quiet, angel?” he whispers and doesn’t wait for an answer, briefly meeting your eyes before he’s closing them to kiss you sweetly. It started off sweet. Sweet and loving like James before suddenly becoming very dominating and overwhelming. You were being devoured and the thought was undeniably arousing. They were both on you, Sirius kissing away at your neck as James savoured the taste of your lips before bullying his way into your awaiting mouth. He swallowed your moans for you as Sirius defiantly persisted, urging you with seductive lips to make more.

Overwhelmed but so content.

You were drowning in bliss and you never wanted to break away from it.

“DIDN’T I SAY!” Remus shouts, stopping all activity and leaving you strung up high as the boys slowly pull away, not too far but enough for all of you to meet Remus’ unreadable stare. The boys look over their shoulder to observe their commanding lover, their large frames tense before moving their eyes down and slowly smirking, the tension evaporating off their figures as you’re left to rebuild another tower of anxiety from your lower stomach, “Didn’t. I. Say. We. Were. Going. To. Savour. Her?”

What?

Your shocked, wide-eyed stare meets Remus’ cool and, almost, unfeeling gaze. Once again, your knees buckled under you and you were caught by Sirius and James. Held in place by their hot, firm hands and the press of their toned physiques.

What did he just say?

Unable to keep his stare, your eyes slowly fall down the tall brunette’s figure. Capturing his beautiful, full lips; taking in the delicious column on his neck; observing the wide expanse of his shoulders and chest; drifting down to gulp at his veiny arms and hands before landing on...

Oh~

A/N : no fluff, but something better right? a little sneak peak on how i write spicy things but it's readable hehe~

NEXT. | 07 : APOLOGISE AND COMFORT →

NAVI. | HEROES IN TATTOOS MASTERLIST

TAGLIST : @susyelectra @fangirlninja67 @pagesfalling @thepunisherfrankcastle @axeofwars @imarimon @in-love-with-4-marauders @chicken-taco-burrito @valencia-rou @feast0nmeee @lestat-whore @hvmxjjk @twilightlover2007 @diaryofabiwoman @woohoney @celestialfantasiess @willbedecided @lovelyygirl8 @iiirhiane-g @mangodamochiii @queerqueenlynn @l3xiluve @brain-has-left @bunbunbl0gs @kneelforloki @citrusiove @virtualbuni @awkward-d3rs3-dr3amer @that1nerd-20 @wolfstar4everbitches @skepvids @dearmy-diary @littledollfacebaby @mylifeisnothing @em16cor @krazyk99 @imdoingbetternow @realalpacorn @remussbitch @swiftieeras1989 @lonely-nerd-sodaholic @canthavetoomuchchaos @rckstrbee @b-i-h-i @ennycutie @kneelforloki @theteaobsessedbug @padfoot1313 @d1gital-data @venezsuwayla @melllinaa

#poly marauders x reader #marauders x reader #poly marauders x you #poly marauders #james potter x reader #remus lupin x reader #sirius black x reader #sirius x reader #remus x reader #james potter #remus lupin #sirius black #the marauders #marauders #wolfstar #heroes in tattoos series #HIT : series

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aajjks · 2 months

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The Conqueror (XXI)

Synopsis: He had conquered everything, anything but your heart.

Pairings: Yandere!King Jungkook x Commoner!servant Reader.

warnings. yándèrè thèmès, därk trïggèrïng thèmès, jüngkôôk ïs crâzy, öbsëssïön, mêntïöns öf kïllïng, yn ïs gèttïng ströngèr, a BÏG STÖRM ÏS CÖMÏNG.

series masterlist.

note. plz hi, forgive me for the delay xx send asks for tc characters, send feedback n ENJOY! Please share your thoughts about this chapter because I’m excited. Also, I’m removing the people from the tag list who are not taggable anymore. So if you want to be tagged, just reply to this post.

taglist: @mageprincess7 @starsggukk @koremis @minshookie29 @sana-b @oonaaurora @jeonsweetpea @sugaslittlekookies @outro-kook @kthyg @lunaashes @debicaptain-saturn @laurynne5 @captainsjoongs @myblackconfessions @namjooncrabs @natalie-rdr @angelicasdre @mermaidtea @foulnightharmony @ungodlyjoon @quechulitaaa @telepathytae @j3alous-ang3l @bunzom @1-in-abillion @breadgeniedope @jiminie-08 @artgukk @lovesthetword @bunijmin @pinkcherrybombs @afangirllikeme-blog @twilight-love-nochu-main @wedarkacademia @hollxe1 @bighitfics @darkuni63 @golden-thv @investedreader @sweetempathprunetree @koocreampie

You couldn’t sleep last night. But it’s not like you have been able to sleep peacefully without nightmares haunting you or the thought of Jungkook- the monster taking over your mind every time you try to sleep.

But this time it wasn’t just his thoughts, but rather his words- what was he talking about when he said that he was going to tell you the truth about your father, and you’d start to would hate him?

You have nothing to do here, all you have to do is sit around, and… dread the thought of him coming back to you. This chamber is so large but all you feel is suffocated.

The golden chandeliers, the silk bed sheet and the sherbet right next to your bed, it all feels too much- you’re in a golden cage.

And you cannot escape.

Yeah, all you can do is sit around, but you’re not willing to do that anymore. If you cannot escape, you just might as well try to walk around this palace, so maybe you’ll feel a sense of control over your own life.

You decide to get up from your bed you take a few steps you look at yourself in the mirror that’s standing, right in front of you, you look so different in these royal clothes, but.. you don’t feel good about yourself.

What did he even see in you? Sure you’re attractive, but there are a lot of more attractive women than you, especially his consorts.

You are nothing when it comes to them- they are the most gorgeous women in Goryeo.

You would feel insecure, but you don’t care- you want him to leave you so you can escape and leave your life freely but in the few days you have realized one thing: that’s just not possible anymore.

This king will never leave you.

You sigh, crying anymore will do you no good, last night, you even came to a conclusion that you have to face your destiny now.

And fearlessly.

As you open your chamber’s door and walk outside you hear commotion. The guards guarding your chamber immediately hear your footsteps, and they bow their head to you and respect.

You visibly cringe.

You lower your head in embarrassment and just make your way through the golden wing. You keep walking the noises become clearer.

“The Kings wedding is in a week. Can you believe this? I thought he would never marry- at least not someone like her.” a court lady is talking to her fellow and you cannot help but listen..

What wedding? And in Less than a week?

Your heartbeat rises because you know they’re talking about you, especially when they mention someone like her with a scoff, and the hint of jealousy, and disgust in their voices, of course you can see their faces.

“yes I cannot believe that it’s not one of the consorts-especially considering their background.. I don’t know what the king is doing, but it’s a foolish move.”

You Cannot help but feel a little insulted at their remarks, you clear your throat and as soon as the maids notice you, you can feel the color from their face drain. All staff stand in alert as you make your presence known.

But you’re not even a queen yet, so why are they behaving like this?

“M-My lady- I’m so sorry… what are you doing here? Do you need anything?” One of them stutters out while the other one is avoiding eye contact with you.

you want to roll your eyes because you’re done with everyone walking all over you like you won’t do anything and now you’ve decided that you’ll fight back against everyone that will disrespect you.

Including Jungkook.

It’s not your fault that he chose you. “what were you guys talking about? What wedding?” The real question is what the fuck they’re talking about.

They gasp, and one of them finally gathers the courage to look into your eyes.

“Y-Your wedding with the- Baby, they’re talking about our wedding.”

Goosebumps.

You tilt your head to look behind you, and you see him standing. With a smirk on his face, but he looks visibly livid. You’re not surprised because he always looks so crazy.

But what the fuck is he doing here? He must be walking here to bother you once again, but this time you’re here.

“Y-Your Majesty!!” The whole staff present cower. Soon you see them all bow again, but this time all of their heads hang low.

Jungkook is right here- speak of the devil, and he shall appear-or more likely? think of the devil, and he shall appear.

Delusional. He’s delusional if he thinks that you’re going to marry him.

“what wedding?” At this point you sound like a broken record, but he doesn’t mind that, instead, he chooses to focus his attention on the two court ladies that you were talking to just now.

“what were you saying about yn just now? I would like to hear it from your own mouth or I cut off your tongue right here.”

Your eyes widen when he threatens to cut off their tongue with a huge smile on his face. He heard the whole conversation like you.

They both start to shake, you can even smell their fear from here, what the fuck is he doing? All he does is traumatize people. “W-What- no- DO NOT INTERRUPT ME YN.” His voice booms as he cuts you off.

You can hear a few whimpers, people are scared.

You want to roll your eyes but it won’t really bring a difference and he always does what he wants

Jungkook is still glaring at the two, “COME ON NOW, SPEAK UP!” he commands, and his author voice, you go silent, because how could he scream at you like this?

He cannot be serious about cutting their tongue.

He’s got his hands folded behind his back and he’s standing tall, all intimidating. His dark curly hair makes him more intimidating. His figure is definitely huge.

He’s quite literally a beast.

“Y-Your majesty pl-please forgive us. It was an honest mistake.. we are so sorry please- please forgive us!” You watch them as they fall to their knees and bow to Jungkook- their shaking bodies make you pity them.

No one should ever have to beg for their life like this. no matter what they have done and even though they have insulted, you definitely felt stringed but you still don’t want them to die.

The fear in their voice will haunt you forever- they are about to die because of you. You have to stop this.

So you decide to swallow your pride, before he can say anything or take out his sword, you can see his hand reaching for it.

Come yn speak up!

“J-Jungkook.” You call out his name, oh, your heart is going to burst for sure, all of this is so overwhelming and intense but you have to keep your composure if you want to save their life.

You’ve never called him by his name.

And he knows that because the way he looks at you immediately has you a little creeped out, he looks starstruck, “J-Jungkook please don’t punish them..”

Your tongue feels bitter as you say his name. “please.” You say once again. It’s so hard for you beg to him but if you have to save someone’s life, you will do it.

“J-Jungkook.”

Did you just call out his name? Oh, he must be hallucinating. Because you would never call out his name like that so softly. You haven’t even said his name.

And even if you have, he doesn’t remember.

“J-Jungkook please don’t punish them..”

It’s like you can hear his thoughts because you decide to call out his name once again, and all of his anger melts down, he looks at you in surprise.

Fuck.

He feels his knees, go weak as you call out his name- he’s been dying to hear you say it. His hand from his sword attached to his pants loosens.

You’re so kind- they and they deserve to die but here you are begging for their life, even though he doesn’t agree with you, but since you asked so nicely, who is he to deny you?

“Oh baby…” he coos, walking towards you, He cannot focus on anyone right now because you just called out his name so kindly for the first time.

He wants to hear you say it again

He can move the mountains for you. “Yn- YOUR MAJESTY I’M SO SORRY FOR INTERRUPTING YOU LIKE THIS, BUT THERE’S SOMETHING YOU SHOULD KNOW.”

Oh he’s really going to kill someone now, jungkook scoffs as he halts his steps. “what the fuck is wrong with you? How dare you interrupt me?”

Jungkook looks at the guard instead now, glaring him and if looks could kill he’d be six feet under now. “BARK!” He screams.

“T-There’s an intruder in the Palace! H-He’s asking for the Chief Consort… He is calling her name out like a crazy man.”

What the fuck, he feels his eye twitch and Jungkooks jaw clenches with anger, All of the people are confused and you gasp.

Someone is definitely going to die tonight, Jungkooks sure because he knows for a fact that he is here for you, even though he has no idea about this man.

Without uttering a word, Jungkook storms off.

This man has just come to his own death.

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queenhunter102 · 3 months

Text

The 141-task force decided to get married. (Civilian)

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley

I see Simon watching you make him his black ass coffee in the morning, you humming to a song he thinks is annoying and too mainstream, he sighs as he leans against the countertop in the kitchen, his eyes following you around the kitchen, as you nod your head, gracefully moving around the kitchen pulling out spoons and milk, that weird ass milk thickening thing.

He would tilt his head as you thickened his coffee, and he would move to stand behind you resting his chin on your shoulder, his giant calloused hands on your hips, gently swaying to your shitty music, he closed his eyes just listening and feeling such a domestic moment in his little shitty flat, that he thought would always be so cold and unwelcoming, but there you were in PJ’s that were near silk to his skin, your body wash in the shower, your deodorant that lingered around the house, on days you were out.

Yeah, He chose that you would be perfect for him to come home to.

Captain John Price

It would be a little different for John, he had always known you were end goals for him, he just never thought he would marry you, not that he never thought about it, he did, he just never thought of it as something that would suit both of you.

But there you were arguing about the cost of pretty lingerie, you stood holding out a price tag to him, showing him the price, and he would lift his brow, he held out his hand for you to give it to him, and you pulled it away shaking your head putting it back, he would smile and wait until you had walked away, before picking up the piece, eyeing it and thinking. ‘I could argue with every day, as long as my ring was on your finger and you held my name’

Johnny ‘Soap’ McTavish

Now Johnny would be different, he never had ANY intention of marrying you, like none, not that he didn’t want to, he just never saw himself being the marrying type, but when he was up playing Just Dance, and you were sat behind him talking about the lore of the game, about which characters where related, the how, the why, he smiled as you became animated, as you spoke, your hands moving and your voice filling with more excitement. he loved it, he paused his game to listen to you, as you talked he would ask questions about the characters and their background, he would sit in front of you, he would rest his head on his hand, as he just listened to your voice, it came to a point where he was no long listening to what you were saying, just listening to your voice, he decided then that he had to look into wedding rings and engagement rings, as he thought. ‘I would go to war if your voice was the first thing I heard when I came back’

Alejandro Vargas I could see Alejandro, wanting to propose, just knowing when or if the relationship was ready for the next step, but it was your third anniversary, the two of you were at a nice restaurant, nothing too fancy, but better than the usual places you frequented together, you were all dolled up, looking perfect, he had just order for you guys since you had gone to the bathroom, you had sat back across from him, taking a sip of water. That’s it, you were sipping water, and that would be it, he would decide that you were going to get that proposal…Ok maybe it wasn’t just you sipping water, it was the way the light made your skin glow, that light flush to your cheeks, the one where you had that shy smile, that seemed to fit so perfectly, his only thought. ‘You are my world’

Kyle ‘Gaz’ Garrick Now Gaz would be on the fence about marriage, but I could see him not being bothered about getting married, He had just come back from a solo mission, he was with you and the rest of 141, drinking and celebrating, and he was sat nursing a beer, as he watched you at the bar, in the top he loved, that just sat ever so perfect…well off-course it would it was on of his, one that you had stolen…ok he let you have it, you were leaning over the bar top talking to the bartender. Since you and him frequent this bar semi-often, you were smiling and laughing as the bartender made your drink, he smiled and tilted his head at the way you were half out of your stool, your legs wrapped around the legs of the stool, and you flip your phone on the counter top, still having to do something while you waited, the way you would tuck and un-tuck his your shirt our of your jeans, how the way your eyes would flick up to the mirror at the back of the bar. Yeah, that would be the moment he would decide to be at your side, till the day he did, thinking. ‘Yeah, that’s my baby’

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yoisami · 8 months

Text

tags. rin x gn!reader, 1.9k wc, reader and rin are 21, reader is a uni student and rin is a pro!soccer player, reader wears makeup and a dress, mentions of liquor and food, kissing lol, unestablished relationship, ooc rin mb, happy birthday rin (i am late but better late than never)

“sir, have you made a booking for tonight?”

in celebration of rin’s twenty-first birthday, you messaged him a couple of days ago that you’d treat him to a dinner at a restaurant which you quoted as “nice”.

considering that you would pay for the meal with your measly college student income you earn from regular shifts at a local clothing retailer, rin expected that this “nice” restaurant would just be the local sushi bar you two usually visit.

except, right now, he’s confused that he found himself at the entrance of a sumptuous restaurant, hearing the clinking of wine glasses in the background.

“my friend did. under [surname]?”

as of now, rin’s doubtful about two things—one, your ability to pay for this meal (rin noticed on the menu that they served foie gras here—that indicates something), and two, if this is the correct location of the restaurant you booked for. as the server is scrolling through the list of reservations on the tablet, rin’s typing up a message to ask if this michelin star restaurant was the “nice” restaurant you referred to in your message.

“yes, i see it,” the server confirmed, smiling politely as she gestured a hand into the restaurant. “please follow me this way, sir.”

rin’s fighting the urge to make a face of astonishment as he followed the server into the restaurant, slipping his phone back into the pocket of his coat. like any other luxury restaurant, there were multiple tables left vacant, and tables that were occupied were seated by couples in lavish cocktail dresses or suits.

there’s fine china exhibited around the restaurant and french art pieces nailed to the walls, and rin’s beginning to worry about the balance left in your bank account after paying for this meal that’s bound to be exorbitantly priced.

the server then motioned her hand again to the table where you were, gently waving with a smile. before he took the seat opposite of you, rin quickly thanked the server with a brief bow.

there was a teasing smile dancing upon your lips. “surprised?”

technically, tonight, rin was the main character—but you certainly stole the show. the silk slip dress you wore delicately hugged your figure whilst complementing your skin tone, and with the light makeup that enhanced your beauty even more, rin was entranced by you.

and he hoped you can’t see how the tips of his ears had a pink tint.

“happy birthday, rin.”

“thank you. you dressed up nicely,” he commented, clearing his throat as he glances at the menu once.

“i tried my best.” a soft sigh fell from your lips as you patted your dress down. “i figured it’d be wrong if i wore ordinary clothes to such a fancy place. i’ve been saving up to treat you to something like this, so you better enjoy yourself tonight.”

“you don't have to.”

“i do.” rin watched you fidget with the charm on your necklace as you spoke. “you’ve always brought me to nice places to eat, and you keep buying me expensive things.”

“only because you deserve them.” a waiter arrived at your table with a bottle of ruinart rosé that rin assumed you ordered as he opened the bottle with a loud “pop”.

after the waiter poured you a glass, rin watched the liquor cascade into his glass, noticing how the delicate foam fizzes as it sits atop the liquid. the waiter lifted the bottle away once it filled two-thirds of rin’s glass, and placed the bottle on the table.

you and rin said your thanks to the waiter, and he bowed again before returning to his duties in the kitchen.

“they said this champagne isn’t too sweet,” you mentioned, taking the glass into your hands. “hopefully you’ll like it.”

rin hesitated as he took a sip of the champagne, humming softly to let you that he approved of your selection of liquor. as an athlete who avoided alcohol for his health, and detested the bitter taste of beer, rin sure enjoyed the subtle notes of lemon and apple as he took another sip.

and as he watched your face light up at your serving of the aromatic champagne, rin’s unaware that the sides of his lips curved upward.

settling the wine glass down, rin waited for you to initiate a conversation. “it’s been a while since we last hung out—how has training been?”

both of you had busy schedules that never aligned, and with you being a third-year college student (you also returned from your month-long overseas trip only a week ago), and rin as a professional soccer player, meeting up has been difficult.

you reckon you’re lucky to be able to catch him for a meal, but rin had purposely declined all other gatherings with his friends just to make sure that he gets to see you today.

“it’s fine. we’re just preparing for the upcoming game. how’s school been?”

“tiring,” you quietly groaned. “school’s always gonna be a little bit of a bitch. the content’s getting a lot harder too, so i’m spending even more time on school work.”

”have you been sleeping enough?” knowing your horrible tendency of pulling all-nighters to get work done, rin hoped that lately you’ve been able to rest well, and perhaps begin fixing that terrible habit of yours.

you nodded your head eagerly. “mm hmm! i slept seven hours last night—are you proud?”

a short laugh slipped past his mouth as his heart clenched at how adorable you were. “yeah, sure.”

seeming to be proud that you’ve made rin laugh, a smile broke from your glossy lips. for a moment, the ceiling lights illuminated your face, and rin realised that recently, he’s forgotten just how beautiful you are.

“i've missed you, rin,” you confessed, voice thickly coated in sincerity. "it’s nice that we’re able to meet up tonight to celebrate your birthday.”

it’s like there were butterflies carouseling in his stomach, performing cartwheels and other aerobic routines when you claimed that you’ve missed him. his heart was violently drumming against his ribcage, and he’s conscious of the heat that’s blossoming in his face, but rin’s terrific at masking his feelings.

“i’ve missed you too.” rin admitted that it was an understatement—hell, his thoughts circled around you every morning as he’s eating breakfast, and every night as he’s winding down for the day. just a week ago, seeing your instagram stories made him glad that you were having fun on in another country, but his heart longed for your return to japan.

“i'm happy that the feeling’s mutual, then.” no. rin’s certain that he’s missed you way more than you’ve missed him—after all, to you, he was probably just a friend from high school and nothing more.

perhaps what rin regretted most now was that he didn’t reciprocate your romantic feelings for him when the two of you were in high school. back then, he was even more aloof, regarding each of his peers with disdain after he and sae found themselves in a dispute that severed their bond. each minute of his day was devoted to soccer, and if something, or someone, did not benefit his improvement in the sport, then it was simply insignificant.

though rin’s thankful that his past self dedicated his entire existence towards soccer, a part of him wondered what the outcome would have been if he’d realised earlier that you embodied his definition of perfection.

but now, as adults who are legally drinking champagne from refined wine glasses and sitting across from each other just as friends, rin’s heart was unfulfilled, to be frank.

shortly after a waiter left your table with your orders placed, rin gets up from his seat. “i’m just gonna ask him where the bathroom is.”

you sent him a nod as rin followed the same waiter, pulling out his wallet from his pocket. “excuse me?”

the waiter turned around. “how may i help you, sir?”

“i’d like to pay for what we’ve ordered now,” he said, pulling out a credit card from the slit in his leather wallet. “is that alright?”

after minutes of admonishing rin for paying for his own birthday dinner, you returned to him with his mug of hot tea and a look of disapproval.

“do you know how bad i feel right now? i feel fucking awful that you had to pay for a dinner that was stupidly overpriced—and the fact that it was a dinner to celebrate your birthday makes me feel even more guilty!”

since dinner had ended earlier than you anticipated, you invited rin to your apartment, insisting he stay for a while because you were keen to show him how well you’ve decorated your new place.

but right now, it feels more like a dreary session of your lecturing than a house tour.accepting the tea you’ve poured for him, rin takes it in his hands.

“[name], it’s alright. we can just go out for dinner again.”

you don’t look impressed with his response. “i’m just gonna transfer the money to your account.”

settling the tea down, rin’s fascinated at how adamant you can be. “[name], no.”

as you reached for your phone on the kitchen counter, rin seized both your wrists, holding them above your head as he’s laughing. “h-hey—itoshi rin!”

“i’ll let go if you promise not to pay me back.”

“but it's your birthday! i can't let you do that!”

“because it’s my birthday, i can do whatever i want. so please,” rin said as he lowered your wrists. “let me pay. i know you’ve worked hard for the money you have now.”

“but so have you.”

“i know, but this is different. i don’t have college fees to pay for—you do.”

rin’s grip on your wrists loosened a bit as you let out another sigh. “now i feel indebted to you.”

“you’re not though. there’s no need for you to feel that way.”

you suddenly fell quiet, and it almost seemed like you were mustering up some courage to look into his eyes. “i-i mean, i have one more gift for you.”

“you do?”

“yeah,” you muttered, averting your gaze from him momentarily. “if you don’t like it, you can throw it away. i won’t be hurt.”

rin nodded his head as he looked around the kitchen, searching for an item that perhaps resembled a wrapped gift. “alright. where is it?”

“shut your eyes.”

as rin closed his eyes, he’s thinking of potential gifts that you could have gotten for him. a new pair of soccer boots? or maybe a new coat for the coming winter since you’ve mentioned previously that you liked it most when rin wore bla—

the last thing he could have ever thought of as your gift was a kiss from you; the taste of faux strawberries is what he’s greeted with when you pressed your lips against his.

and when you’re about to pull away, rin only leaned in closer, catching your lips to kiss them once again.

except this time round, you could taste the fervour he’s kept from you all this time.

his hands shyly rested on the sides of your waist, and rin supposed you could already tell he’s been yearning for your affection by how violently each his heart was beating.

rin could still taste the bitter notes of the champagne that lingered from dinner, and while he’s drowning in the dainty sweetness of your perfume, your fingertips seared the skin on his neck.

nothing beyond the walls of your apartment seemed to matter right now—especially not when rin’s savouring every second of your gift with every fibre of his being.

#૮(ˊ ᵔ ˋ)ა — ୨୧ by saki #EW #WHAT DID I JUST WRITE EW #anw goodnight i am sleeping now #blue lock #bllk #blue lock x reader #bllk x reader #blue lock imagines #bllk imagines #itoshi rin #rin itoshi #rin x reader #itoshi rin x reader #rin itoshi x reader #itoshi rin imagines #rin itoshi imagines

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siriusleee · 10 months

Text

a better year

a/n: i linked this one to ao3 a week or so ago, but i figured i'd do it now i'm procrastinating the next chapter to adamantine chains lmao this is my take on the bookstore au tags: mentions of sex but nothing explicit, cursing, signs of ptsd, , original female character, retirement from the military, bookstore au 6.7k words summary: He takes her shoes off of her while she insists she can do that herself. He slips the right one off when the fireworks go off outside; the entire town is bathed in their light. "Midnight," she says as Simon rises up on one knee in front of her, ready to tell her goodbye and good night. She kisses him over the mask. She doesn't mention it the next day.

The official order rolled in on plain white paper, an unceremonious carrier of his future. He was the first to go: a sign that the team was being unraveled slowly. After all, they're not young men anymore.

"You'll receive your pension; it's enough that you shouldn't have to work again. And we've made sure that you have an official background. It's not much, but it's what we can do."

Laswell doesn't move her eyes from his, her fingers clutching a pen so hard her knuckles are white.

"It's for the best Simon," she says, setting the pen down carefully on her desk, "and if it makes you feel better: everyone will be released soon. I'm sorry."

He's not dumb; he knows these things only last so long. Forced retirement is something to be celebrated - celebrated that he lived long enough to have one, celebrated that his body isn't rotting in some foreign country, a home for worms. Celebrated that the 141 made it out mostly intact. Mostly together.

Johnny claps him on the back and promises that when Laswell brings him that paper when Johnny gets his own forced retirement, he'll come to find Simon.

Simon doesn't stay in England - he doesn't like the way the gray settles around him. He leaves the apartment Laswell set up for him untouched, a note for Johnny for where to find him.

He finds a small house to rent somewhere in the American Southwest, spitting distance of Alejandro's territory. It crosses his mind more than once to make the trip across the border, to see how Alejandro's doing; to see if Rudy is still scared of fantasmas .

But he isn't a fantasma anymore; he's just Simon Riley.

And it's just Simon Riley who paces the aisles of her bookstore, trying to find something to take his mind off of the fact that he is utterly and completely bored.

"This is the third time you've been here this month. I'm not putting you into debt am I?"

Her accent is different from everyone else's in town - still decidedly American, just not from here American. Simon ignores her, his eyes focused on the row of books in front of him. She sighs heavily, but drops it, leaving him behind to stock the end cap. Last week's murder mysteries replaced by this week's contemporary romances.

"I need to lock up you know - I can't stay here all night." She speaks as if it's not odd that Simon only comes in on Thursday nights - the only night of the week she stays open late to rearrange the end cap displays, to vacuum the floors to perfection.

"You haven't even cleaned the windows yet," Simon replies, pulling a fantasy book from the shelf: something about a world full of malicious fairies and a secret world beneath New York. It's something new.

"For your information, I did that before you got here," she says, pushing herself up from the floor with a groan. "And I have a life. I can't sit here all night and wait for you to pick a random book off the shelf."

"I never said you didn't."

Simon places the book as she dips behind the counter, a lukewarm cup of coffee left beside the cash register. She drinks from it, wincing at the taste as she rings the book up.

"That'll be seventeen forty-five."

Simon gives her a twenty and she breaks the change, counting out how many pennies he's supposed to have on her fingers.

"You going to be back next week?"

"Why?"

"I want to close early next Thursday; I need to know if my best customer is going to be here or not."

Simon doesn't speak as he takes the plastic bag from her hands. She waits for him, eyes never leaving his as she sips her coffee, waiting on him to answer.

"I can come by Friday instead."

"I'm closed Fridays."

"What about Wednesday?"

"I can stay late Wednesday."

He leaves her with just a crinkle of the plastic bag and the chime above the door.

***

He spends too much time at the gym ignoring Johnny's text messages. Johnny tells him Price was next - swearing that he was going to retire to the countryside where he can smoke his cigars in peace. Maybe find himself a nice girl to cook him dinner every now and then.

His fingers hover over the buttons, almost messaging Price to tell him congratulations. But Simon's not sure it really is.

He's alone at night; no one's in the gym at two in the morning. No one's there to watch the way he slams the weights down when he's done or hear the way he gasps for breath after lifting too heavy - the tear in his chest that never quite healed right burning him from the inside.

The walk home is quick; the stars shine brighter than anything he'd ever seen in England. The closest he ever got to seeing them like this was in the Middle East, but he hardly noticed the stars then. He wasn't expecting to be left looking up.

He sits in the shower at home. He can't stand the way the water hits his skin, but can't stand the idea of sitting in the water either. So he stays huddled in the corner of the bathtub, the water barely touching him.

Simon Riley thinks about death.

He thinks about what would happen if he died right now.

He thinks about what it's like to die twice.

***

The door is locked when he comes by Wednesday; he feels foolish standing there with his hand still pulling on the door, knowing it won't open beneath his touch. Foolish to think that she would-

Foolish when his heart ticks a beat as she comes around the corner. Foolish when he steps inside just a second after she unlocks the door.

"Sorry, my last employee must have locked the door on their way out. So did you like last week's book?"

"It was alright."

The silence is almost awkward as she locks the door behind him.

"Let me know when you're ready. I just made coffee in that pot behind the counter; you can have some if you want. I shouldn't drink it all myself."

She leaves him behind to disappear into the store room. He paces the aisles aimlessly, waiting for something to jump out at him. It's quiet tonight; the music that's usually playing softly over the speakers is absent. Simon can hear her through the storeroom wall moving boxes around, the sound of a box cutter piercing the quiet every so often.

She reappears, a box in her arms that she drops heavily onto the counter. Simon watches her over the bookshelf of non-fiction works as she pulls each book out, scans it into the computer, and stacks them on the counter

When the box is empty, she breaks it down and leaves it on the counter. She looks up, almost catching Simon staring at her. He ducks away, taking a book on the Korean War with him. At the counter, she can barely see him over the stack of books in front of her.

"Last week was fantasy and this week is the Korean War? You certainly have varied tastes."

Simon hands over the fifteen twenty-two he owes her, her hands linger in the distance between them.

"Do you have a job?"

"What?"

Simon's taken aback at her candor. I used to have a job he thinks, as he pockets his change.

"No, I don't."

"Do you want one? I need a weekend worker. It's just me on Saturdays and Sundays now my other guy quit to go to college. I can't pay you a ton, but I kind of get the feeling you don't need it."

He falters for a moment; that's all it takes. If he's being honest with himself, he misses taking orders, missing feeling useful to someone.

"I can do that."

"Can you start this Saturday?"

"I can do that."

She's locked the door behind him before he realizes they don't even know each other's names.

***

Her name's Billy.

"What's your name; I probably should have asked that before I hired you."

Simon doesn't answer, placing the box down slowly before he answers. It's odd, telling someone his name. His real name.

"It's Simon. Simon Riley."

She looks him over, elbows resting on the counter.

"What?"' He asks, uncomfortable under her x-ray analysis of him.

"Just didn't peg you for a Simon. You know with your general countenance; the mask and all that."

She doesn't ask why he has the mask on. Simon gets the feeling that she never will.

She works him like a dog; he's moving some of the shelves around when he thinks that this is probably the reason her last employee quit. It's like being ordered around by Price again, but this time his enemy is the dust. He doesn't stop moving until well after noon; sweat gathering in the small of his back. In her office, Billy is on the phone, yelling indistinctly at the person on the other line.

He doesn't have to watch her to know she's angry when she slams the phone down. He expects her to storm out of her office, to slam the door shut behind her. But she doesn't. When she comes out she's calm.

On Sunday she shows him how the books are organized, and she has him switch around the genres.

"Romance sells best during the spring, and mystery best in the fall and winter. So we need to pull the mystery books up to this front aisle and move the romance towards the back. These shelves roll so they're easier to move."

She's meticulous; Simon moves the same shelf four times before it's lined up exactly where she wants it. His constellation prize: cash wages handed to him at the end of the day.

"No paycheck?"

Her nails tap against the counter, the white paint chipped.

"I haven't processed your paperwork yet. I can take the money back if you want."

Simon pockets it.

They lock up together. It's warm outside, but she still tugs a hoodie over herself whenever she finishes, tucking her keys into the pocket.

It's a complete coincidence that they set off in the same direction.

Simon wants a cigarette; his fingers itch for the pack in his pocket. But she'd said earlier in the day that the smell was disgusting and she couldn't breathe whenever someone with cigarette smoke on them passed her by.

They split up two blocks away from the bookstore. She motions up to the upstairs apartment of a shitty duplex. It's not the kind of place he expected her to be in.

"This is me. I'll see you next Saturday right?"

"I'll be there."

"Good night Simon."

She doesn't wait for him to say anything; not that he would have known what to say. She's up the stairs and inside (she didn't unlock the door; he has to restrain himself from going upstairs to tell her to lock it next time) before he can think of anything to say.

He smokes a cigarette at the bottom of her stairs; watches the outline of her against the curtains in her window. A fat black cat peers down at him, peers down at the cherry of Simon's cigarette in the darkness. The street lamp is burnt out, the shadows dark. He stubs the cigarette out on the sole of his boot and throws the cigarette butt out in the street.

He's almost certain she'd chide him for that - the same way she did a kid who had the audacity to throw a cigarette down in front of her shop.

His apartment is extra cold when he gets home.

***

"Maybe Price has it right: a life in the countryside. A pretty girl to cook you a few meals. Maybe a dog to curl up at your feet," Johnny drones on the other end of the line. Simon doesn't answer, his focus on cutting the potatoes in front of him into meticulous cubes. Johnny doesn't need him to speak.

"What about you L.T.? What have you been up to?"

"I'm not a lieutenant anymore Johnny."

"You'll always be L.T. to me. And don't ignore the question."

Simon drops the potatoes into a pot, waiting on the answer to unstick from the back of his throat.

"Not much. I go to the gym a lot."

He doesn't tell Johnny how he has to break his gun down and put it back together three times each night before he can sleep.

"That it?"

"I'm working at a bookstore."

"A bookstore! A few months out and you're domesticated."

"Watch it, Johnny."

A pause.

"I have to go L.T.. Gaz is yelling at me."

Their goodbye is the silence that follows.

***

Billy's arguing with a customer when he arrives Saturday morning.

"Listen, dude, I don't care what price you want to pay. This is my business and I set the prices. If you don't like it, you're not being forced to come here."

The customer drops it when Simon steps behind the counter.

"I hate that guy," Billy tells him as she hands him a box cutter. "He comes in every week and tries to get me to lower my prices. It's a bookstore; I'm not getting rich off of this. I can't afford that. Anyway-"

She sweeps her hair behind her shoulders. Simon catches a hint of a tattoo behind her right ear and a glint of cold chain disappearing beneath her shirt.

"Finals are coming up for the local community college so I had two different study groups book the tables in here today. They're usually pretty good, we just have to make sure to keep the coffee pot refilled for them because they'll drink it dry. It's $5 if they want coffee - per person don't let them try to swindle us - but they can refill it as much as they want."

Her fingers tap against the counter. Her nails are blue this week.

"If they ask about selling us their textbooks, tell them to come back next week. I have a shipment of children's books coming in - you can sign for it if I'm busy. Do I need to show you how to use the cash register or can you figure it out?"

"I can figure it out."

"Ok. The code is 4532. For now, do you mind breaking down the boxes in the back room and taking them to the dumpster? It's hard for me to reach to open up the dumpster lid."

She doesn't wait for him to answer before she disappears into the back room.

This Saturday is busy.

Simon's about to snap at a kid who won't shut up about how the comic section is too small when Billy appears beside him.

"I'll take over here Simon. There's lunch in the back room."

He's thankful for her in that moment.

He's more thankful when the storeroom shuts behind him and locks. The table has a small bag with his name written on it. A sandwich from the deli across the street and a bottle of water inside.

There are no tomatoes on the sandwich.

Just like he always orders it.

***

He smokes a cigarette again outside her apartment. But this time he tucks the butt back into the pack. He'll throw it away at home.

***

"I want to put a coffee shop in here," Billy tells him when the store is slow. She traces the right side of the store with her fingers.

"And I want to open the shop up earlier and stay open later."

"Why don't you?" Simon asks without looking up from his task of the day: putting 'half-priced' stickers on books that aren't selling well.

"I'm not making enough money. I have just enough to pay you and my weekday employee and the overhead cost of this place, plus pay myself. There's not any extra coming in. The bank-," she pauses, red nails scraping at a piece of tape on the counter, "the bank is willing to give me a loan on the coffee shop stuff - the machines and all that - but I don't have the money for the renovations. My contractor told me he'd have to build the cabinets, open up the drywall and put an extension on our water pipe. A water filter needs to be installed. It's just - it's just a lot."

She slides the stack of books he's already put stickers on off of the counter and into her arms.

"Maybe next year."

***

The next time Johnny calls, Simon can hear the strain in his voice.

"It's my turn L.T.. Laswell said I failed the psychological and I can't stay."

"You going to keep good on your promise to come to be my annoying neighbor Johnny."

"Not yet. I want to go home to my mom for a little bit. Maybe next year L.T.."

"Next year's going to be a big year I guess," Simon says more to himself.

"What's that L.T.?"

"Nothing Johnny. We should be happy we made it out."

Simon knows Johnny's not happy: not happy he never received the rank he wanted, not happy he has to go back home and take care of his mom again.

"You're right L.T.. I'll call you again when I'm home. How's the bookstore thing?"

"It's going alright. Bye, Johnny."

"Bye."

In the silence after the call, Simon thinks he should get a cat. Something to make the apartment less quiet; something to give him purpose when he's there.

Something that won't crawl all over him at the end of the day.

***

He needs something to do with his hands.

That's what he tells Billy when she arrives at the store on Saturday morning and Simon's ripping up a portion of the carpet, a stack of flooring waiting to be installed.

"So you have to do it when I'll have customers here?"

"Tell them it's a new addition; they'll be alright."

"I'm not paying you extra for this."

"I didn't ask you to."

Billy looks at him, one foot tapping a sharp staccato muffled by the carpet.

"Fine."

She pauses for a moment, Simon's knife running down the carpet to separate it from the floor beneath. She picks up one of the pieces of flooring, turning it over in her hand.

"What is this?"

"It's vinyl. It's waterproof in case you spill something."

Billy drops the plank back onto the stack and leaves to unlock the front door.

Simon revels in the way his shoulders burn at the work, the way the rough concrete scratches his knuckles once everything is pulled off the floor and he has to start laying down the underflooring. He revels in the way his back cramps as he's bent over.

In the way he feels useful.

It takes him all day to get half the flooring down.

Billy doesn't speak to him about it, doesn't ask where he got the money from, or why he's suddenly doing free renovations on the place.

Simon knows she appreciates it by the way she drops down his lunch - no tomatoes, just a water to drink- beside him without expecting a thank you. By the way, she chides the little kids who come over to ask him a million and one questions, he doesn't know how to answer and brushes them away from him.

She catches him smoking in the back alley on his break. She's polite enough to turn back when she realizes he has his mask down and keeps her back turned to him.

"That shit's going to kill you."

"It can only hope."

Simon can tell she's giving him a withering look at him from her position half inside the doorway.

"If you come in smelling like that cancerous poison I'm not going to talk to you for the rest of the day."

He must smell because she doesn't speak to him for the rest of the day, not even saying goodbye when they depart at her apartment.

Simon hides the cigarettes in a drawer when he gets home.

***

It's Price that reaches out to him first, a quick phone call, a holdover from their days in the field.

"Are you holding up?"

Not "how are you holding up?", but "are you holding up?" The difference between three letters is so vast Simon doesn't know how to cross it.

"I'm doing fine."

"Johnny told me you've got a job?"

"Just something to keep me occupied."

"Is that all you've got?"

"What more do I need?"

The receiver is filled with the sound of Price inhaling a cigar; Simon can almost smell him through the receiver.

"You're not Ghost anymore Simon. It takes more than that to survive this."

Survive this . As if this is the most dangerous mission Simon's ever been on as if being forcibly retired has some sort of great mortality rate.

"Understood."

He listens to Price's dial tone for five minutes before he hangs up.

Maybe it does.

***

He paces the town at night. Once the gym doesn't become enough to wear him out, doesn't help his brain relax, he walks the streets.

He thinks more than once that someone is going to call the cops on him and report him for being suspicious.

But Simon Riley isn't Ghost anymore. Simon Riley is someone not worth noticing.

It's almost surprising how well the little town sleeps with the remnants of Ghost stalking through it; how now one seems to have any idea of what he was once - and still is - capable of.

He steals a lot of time sitting on people's steps, on the stoops of little houses, picking the petals off of the flowers in big pots, and lining up the shoes and toys that were left disarrayed in the chaos of the daytime. He wonders if someone is going to catch him on their security camera and name him the town freak, but no one does.

He keeps up at it enough that he can feel the shift in the air, feel winter creeping in. He notices it in the way more and more boots are left outside, by the plants with plastic coverings over them, protecting them.

He finds himself, more often than not, taking the long way around to stop at the bottom stairs of Billy's apartment. Most nights the lights are off, and the window open. He wants to tell her to stop doing that, to lock the window, but he doesn't know how to say it without giving away his nights. So instead he keeps watch, hands buried in his pockets as he counts the moths in the streetlights.

Sometimes though the lights are on and he can hear the sound of her house through the open window. Sometimes the cat peers down at him as if prepared to leap through the window screen at him - sometimes she grabs the cat, never looking down at Simon; more often than not the cat curls up in the windowsill without budging.

A few times he could hear her talking to someone, the conversation muffled from above. He wondered about who she could be talking to so late at night. Why she was up in the middle of the night to talk to someone?

He makes his way home as the town starts to wake up.

***

He moves once - to a tiny house in the middle of town, just enough to have a yard big enough to cross in two strides.

He tells Johnny it's because he was tired of the noises of the neighbors.

He tells Johnny it's because he's taken up woodworking and needs a spot for the tools.

"What are you building you old bastard?"

"Some cabinets."

"For what?"

"Mind your own business, Johnny."

It takes weeks to get them perfect. Eventually, though, they're good enough to put in the back of a rented truck.

He does it on a Friday when no one is around. He tells himself that it's easier that way, no one walking underfoot.

That night he lets himself admit - just for a moment as he sits on the shower floor - that he didn't want to see her face if she's disappointed by it.

***

She refuses to open the door for him the next day, opting to yell at him through the glass instead.

"You cannot keep making renovations to my store without asking me!"

"It's no big deal; open the door."

"No big deal: you put a floor down, you handbuild cabinets, and you broke into my store to install them!"

"You gave me a key."

"Not for that!"

It's a stalemate: Simon poised with his hand on the door handle, her hands tucked into the pocket of her jacket.

"I still have to do the plumbing."

She massages her eyes before leaning forward to turn the lock. Simon steps inside with the biting wind.

"You're fucking irritating, Simon Riley."

I know .

She makes him put up the Christmas tree - a fucking monstrosity that takes up the entire front window. It takes him all day to get the decorations to her standard; her yelling through the store at him to move something incrementally to the left or right.

Billy leans on the counter, shuffling through official-looking papers and refusing to look at Simon when he's finished.

"Thanks to you," she says, never looking up at him, "I have to start getting the paperwork processed to be able to serve food and drinks here."

"Is it difficult?"

"It's not easy."

Their conversation pauses just long enough for her to check out a customer. She turns back to Simon as soon as the door shuts.

"Why are you doing all this Simon?"

He doesn't answer, and he realizes as he stands there, hands folded behind his back and spine rigid that he needs to tell her something, but all he notices is the black ink mark on her cheek. She doesn't pressure him to answer, but she doesn't let her eyes leave him.

Simon breaks first, eyes cast down to the floor.

"Ok," Billy whispers under her breath, "you don't have to answer, but just let me know when you're going to do something else. Can you text me next time before you start?"

"I don't have your number."

She doesn't ask for his phone, instead, she tears a corner of a piece of paper off and scribbles her number on it. Her hands don't shake when she holds the paper out to Simon, but his shake when he takes it. Simon can tell Billy notices. He stuffs the paper into his pocket, pushing it past his keys and his phone.

"Hey, Simon," Billy chews on her lip.

"What?"

"Are you busy tomorrow night?"

***

Johnny's chatting his ear off, Simon's barely paying attention to him as he stares at the shirts thrown out on his bed.

"- L.T.? Simon?"

"What? Johnny, what?"

"Are you even listening?"

"No, Johnny. I'm not."

The static of Johnny's disapproval.

"What could be distracting you from my wonderful conversation?"

"I'm busy Johnny."

"With what?"

"Nothing Johnny. I just have somewhere to be later - I'm trying to get ready for dinner."

"Dinner? Like with someone else?"

Simon hangs up on him.

***

Simon wants to pretend that he doesn't have the path to her house memorized; doesn't have each step calculated to know when exactly to stand on the bottom step at 6:59 so that he can knock on her door right at 7. But he does, so he hovers on the bottom step for an extra minute.

She doesn't answer when he knocks; she yells through the door for him to come in. In his pocket his phone buzzes every few seconds, Johnny sends another message insisting that Simon tell him who he's eating dinner with. Simon thinks for a moment about blocking his number for the night.

Billy smiles at him from behind the counter, elbow-deep in bread dough. All at once, Simon feels overdressed taking in the large shirt covered in flour Billy's wearing.

"Hey. Sorry, dinner's going to be like 30 minutes later than I said. I couldn't get this shit to rise properly for like an hour."

"It's alright."

Billy must sense his apprehension because she jerks her head at a chair pulled up to the counter.

"Come sit down."

Simon appreciates the order. Billy rolls the dough out on the counter, measuring the thickness with her knuckle with a precision Simon would expect out of her. He has to keep himself from staring at her; instead, he analyzes the rest of the apartment.

He can see everything but the bedroom from his one spot; that door is firmly shut. It's clean but the type of clean houses have whenever someone new is coming over and everything is thrown into a closet. After a few minutes, Simon thinks he needs to speak.

"What are you making?"

"Rolls. I made - uh - what is the fancy word for it - beef bourgine?"

"Beef bourguignon?"

Billy smiles down at the dough as she cuts squares out.

"I'm glad one of us can say it - I can cook, I just can't speak French."

"Do you always cook like this?"

"Only on special occasions."

Special occasions .

It's awkward at first for Simon to sit there while she moves about the kitchen, putting the rolls in the oven and cleaning the counter; Billy doesn't speak much and Simon knows she doesn't feel the need to fill the silence either.

His phone buzzes again - under the counter he checks it.

Johnny:

don't leave me hanging lt tell me whos it is

"Your girlfriend?" Billy teases without turning to look at Simon from the other side of the kitchen.

"Not exactly," Simon says, muting the phone and shoving it back in his pocket.

"Do you have one?" Her voice is prying, but she doesn't look at Simon as she pulls bowls down from the cabinet.

"A girlfriend?"

"Yeah."

It bubbles inside him - just once - the urge to tell her about himself . He swallows it down.

"No."

"Not even back home?"

"Back home?"

She grins at him slyly, setting two glasses of water down in front of the two of them.

"Why do you think I have to keep paying you in cash? Your um….paperwork didn't exactly list you as being an employable American. And you have - you know - an accent."

Simon doesn't realize he's leaning toward her until his elbows hit the counter.

"No, not back home."

She seems satisfied by that answer - or she doesn't have time to ask anything else. Behind her the oven timer beeps and she turns to pull the rolls out. They're barely out of the oven whenever she ladles the stew into the bowls and pulls two rolls off one for each of them.

Pushing the bowl towards Simon she opens her mouth - Simon thinks she's going to ask something else but she just shakes her head.

"I'm going to eat over there, so you can eat too," she says passing him a fork.

"No cameras?"

"None you can see."

She retreats to the other side of the room and drops down on the couch so that she's facing away from him. Muffled behind a door to the right, Simon can hear her cat meow once.

They eat in silence; Simon knows she's only eating slowly to give him time to finish without her accidentally turning to see his face. He doesn't need it: he realizes he hasn't had a meal that hasn't consisted of a sandwich or some form of potatoes in weeks; he eats fast, slowing down just as he finishes to keep from embarrassing himself.

He sets the bowl down with enough dramatics that she can tell he's done without having to turn around. It's quiet again when she comes into the kitchen and takes his bowl to rinse it out in the sink. The sound of the water makes his skin crawl; it clashes with the domestic feeling of being taken care of.

She laughs quietly to herself as she dries her hands on her shirt, lifting it up just enough to expose the little shorts she has on underneath.

"Something funny?"

"Not really funny," she says, hands stilling in her shirt, "I don't know - it just - I - well it's about this time of dinner that guys usually try to take me to the bedroom. I was just thinking about how different this night would be with anyone else."

With anyone else .

That bothers him some.

"I don't suppose that's what you came here for," she grins at him as she speaks, resting her elbows on the counter. "Besides we don't even know each other."

"We work with each other every weekend," Simon retorts, not sure why he feels the need to prove her wrong.

"And we barely speak the entire time."

She points at him, her bright yellow nails glinting in the light.

"I've never seen you in anything other than long sleeves, even on the hottest day. You could have like fucking tentacles under there and I wouldn't know. And you don't even know anything about me."

For once, Simon doesn't think - he does.

He pushes his sleeves up slowly, each one nearly to his elbow. Billy leans forward, just enough to see the tattoo ink and scars that mar his forearms. Her fingers twitch against the countertop like she wants to reach out and touch him, but they stay still.

"Do you - do you only have tattoos on your arms?"

Simon reaches up to hook one finger in his collar and pulls it down just a half inch - just enough to show her the ink there.

"Your turn," Simon says, dropping his hand down. Under the counter, it lies fisted on his thigh.

"My turn?" Billy asks eyebrow cocked at him.

"Do you have any tattoos?"

She licks her lips once; Simon can see her thinking. After a pause she reaches down to grab the edge of her shirt - Simon's heart clenches. She lifts the hem up, just enough to show him the edge of a tattoo on her side, disappearing beneath her shorts and rising above where she lifted. She laughs a little as she drops the shirt.

"Is that all we need to know about each other?"

"It's a start."

***

He finally tells her he was in the military four Sundays after the first one. She'd told him at work she was too tired to cook and apologized, promising to make it up to him. So when he showed up at her door with a pizza and a promise that he was just dropping it off on his way home, he was surprised when she asked him to come in.

Each week they coaxed something new out of each other: a snippet about their families, about their travels. He loves Kentucky; she's from the East Coast. Her father died young. He's from England.

She's curled up in the recliner the cat on her stomach - they're watching something on television but they're both not really paying attention to it. So he blurts it out - a new confession in this weekly therapy.

"I was in the military."

"I guessed. The British Armed Forces?"

"The SAS."

She frowns and Simon stiffens.

"Is that like a unit or something?"

"Yeah."

This time she grins.

"Is that why you always lock my door behind you when you come in?"

"No. I do it because you never know who could come in when you're alone."

"You mean when you're not here."

Yes.

"No."

She rolls over, clutching the cat to her chest so as to not dump him on the floor until her feet hang over the arm and she can eyeball Simon across the room.

"I can shoot straight."

"Can you?"

***

She can. She takes him through the desert on Friday afternoon, bundled up against the cold. Out where they can target practice without anyone bothering them.

She hits every target.

***

"Christmas is this weekend."

"Yeah."

"So you know we're closed right? I'm not paying you time and a half."

A pause longer than he's used to.

"Are you doing anything for Christmas?"

"No."

"Do you want to come over?"

***

She makes Chinese on Christmas. A tradition she says because when she was younger the only places open were Chinese restaurants and her dad couldn't cook. They didn't have real dinners until she learned to cook herself, but it was always Chinese on Christmas.

The cat has a bell around its neck for the holiday and it latches onto Simon for the night. She wrinkles her nose at the cat and calls him a traitor. The cat doesn't seem to care.

"I didn't get you a present," she says, putting her bowl on the coffee table. From his spot in the kitchen, Simon speaks.

"I didn't get you one either."

"Well, you're slowly building me an entire coffee shop."

"That's not present."

"Well, it's not exactly in your job description either."

He leaves his half-eaten bowl on the counter to drop down on the couch. She's sideways in the armchair, shirt riding up and a bruise on her shin. She's back to white nails.

"I can make out with you for Christmas; other guys have liked that present."

Simon's heart nearly stops.

"Excuse me?"

"I'm just kidding Si."

Just kidding .

***

She begs and pleads with him to please go out to the bar with her for the new year. He doesn't have to drink, she says, she can drink enough for the both of them.

She does. She doesn't even make it until eleven.

He carries her home on his back. Her door is unlocked and wants to think about how dangerous that is, but all he can think about is her warm breath on his neck.

He drops her unceremoniously onto the couch - he thinks about carrying her to the bedroom, but that's one place the door has always been shut to.

He does take her shoes off of her while she insists she can do that herself. He slips the right one off when the fireworks go off outside; the entire town is bathed in their light.

"Midnight," she says as Simon rises up on one knee in front of her, ready to tell her goodbye and good night.

She kisses him over the mask.

She doesn't mention it the next day.

***

By summer, Simon has the entire cafe portion of the store finished. He's embarrassed when she hangs a sign over the area: 'Simon's Spot'.

"What?" She asks, peering down at him from the top of the ladder. "You built it."

***

He breaks during the summer. Billy calls him on a Tuesday, asking if he knows anything about air conditioning systems.

"You built the cafe, so I know you're handy."

He doesn't. But he can figure it out.

After hours the bookstore is sweltering. Billy has the blinds pulled down in a futile attempt to keep out some of the heat and the setting sun. Her shirt, already cropped short, clings to her with sweat when she unlocks the front door for Simon.

It takes him two hours but he figures it out. When it kicks on she looks up at him, one arm resting on his shoulder, and tells him he's her hero.

He makes it all the way to her apartment - the promise of something for dinner and a cold drink as for payment the ruse - before he does it.

It's dark inside, dark enough that when he locks the door behind him, he slips his mask off. She turns to ask him something - he doesn't hear it; he's too busy kissing her, pushing her back against the kitchen cabinet.

It's messy - the kissing - he can't remember the last time he kissed somebody like this - all teeth and tongue and need.

When they stumble into her room, he doesn't take his shirt off, and she doesn't ask why.

***

"Come visit me L.T.. Scotlands beautiful this time of year."

"I'll have to book two tickets Johnny; that's not cheap."

"Alright, you cheap bastard you can afford it."

#my fics #simon riley x reader #simon riley #simon ghost riley #simon riley x you #ghost cod x reader #cod x reader #cod fanfic #ghost cod

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fallingintoyourlilaceyes · 6 months

Text

Peakaboo! I see you... (modern!Stalker!Aegon II Targaryen x reader)

synopsis: You have always felt safe in your own home, shutting out the scary, real world. Unknowing, that someone stared at you through the large windows almost every day and night. But a window is just glass, and glass… oh it breaks so, so easily…

warnings: Dark fic, non-con, slight somnophilia, stalking, obsession, mentions of alcohol and drinking, afab reader, angst, fluff, smut, oral sex (f receiving), p in v sex

word count: 8k

taglist: @urmomsgirlfriend1, @agqrtz

(If you want to be tagged in the `kissing booth AU´, for a specific character/fandom or in general let me know in my asks, comments or DMs)

a/n: So, in honor of spooky season I started rewatching `You´ and this is what happened. Let me know if I missed any tw´s or anything. I hope y´all enjoy!! <3

When you had moved to King´s landing you found yourself alone and truly scared for the first time in your life. Fleabottom wasn´t the safest place to begin with, but it was the only thing you could afford while attending Uni, leaving you very little safe spaces. One of them being your friend Sarah Snow´s place and the other, your own apartment. Where you could shut out the scary real world with the turn of a key and multiple locks. Cuddling into your bed with your phone, the tv providing the only source of light in the apartment. It´s still early in the evening, but you had always valued a quiet night in over going out to some shitty bar or club or party, like your friends did. You silently shake your head at the thought of Sarah, Aly and Cassandra getting hammered at some party right now. And as if they heard your thoughts your phone starts to ring with an incoming videocall.

“Hey girl!” Aly exclaimed the second you accept the call. Making you hold the phone a little further away at the sheer volume of her voice. You can see your other two friends in the background, getting ready for going out.

“Hey, Aly. What are you up to?” You ask in a much quieter tone.

“We´re going out tonight.” By the way her words slur ever so slightly it is clear that the three of them had been pregaming.

“Okay, but… Why are you calling me? You know I am not in on the whole party thing.” A feeling in your gut told you, that a plan was afoot. A plan you wouldn´t like as much as sitting at home and watching movies.

“You´re coming with us. That´s why.” Cassandra´s voice sounds from the background.

“Oh no. No. No. No.” You insist.

“No, no talking back this time. Your gonna like it. I promise. There is this really niche bar, that has an open mic thing tonight for anyone that wants to share their work. It will be great.” Cassandra tries to convince you in a sweet voice.

“Ugh. Cas, Aly…”

“Come on. You always whine about being insecure about your writing. This could be great for you.” Sometimes you really hated your friends persistence. Especially when her points weren´t even half bad.

“Alright, fine. Send me the address and give me an hour to get ready.” You hear them cheering as you rub your eyes with the hand that isn´t holding up the phone. “But I won´t get behind that microphone. No matter what you say.”

“Yeah, yeah. Just get yourself presentable and come down. We´ll meet you there.” Just as suddenly as they had called you, they hang up again.

You throw your phone to the side and sigh deeply. Running your hands over your face, followed by bringing them down onto your upper thighs in an attempt to motivate yourself. Of course it doesn´t work and so, with another sigh you turn the tv off and hop into the shower. The warm water feels nice on your skin and when the time to step out, the typical feeling of not wanting to leave overcomes you. But you have to get ready if you don’t want to get shit from Sarah or Cas, so you force yourself to put on some light makeup and grab the next best clothes from your closet, that make you look presentable. Looking at the location of the bar you realize that it is only a few subway stops from your place and so you grab your phone, keys and wallet and head out to the station closest to your place. Checking twice if the pepper spray is still in your purse.

You walk down the stairs just in time for the subway to arrive.

When you arrive at the bar Sarah, Cassandra and Aly are already waiting outside. Greeting you with a mutually hollered “Babes!!”

“Heyyy!” You mirror their tone. Putting on a wide smile to not let them see how tired you really were.

Together the four of you enter the bar and the first thing you notice over the low chatter is how stuffed it is already. You barely find a table that fits all of you and immediately order a round of shots. A good choice as it turns out, because you barely have time to put down your coat, when you hear your name announced over the mic. A frown flits over your face, but you don´t have the heart or maybe the energy for a discussion now, so you pound back another shot and get up on the small makeshift stage. You sit down on the uncomfortable bar stool and introduce yourself. Beginning to read the latest excerpt from the book you were writing that you still have on your phone. The audience honestly doesn´t give much of a reaction, aside from your friend´s aggressive cheers. And the spotlight blinds you a bit, letting your anxiety practically spike. You can hear your voice shake as you read. Your hands and legs still tremble when you finally get back to the table.

“Y´all are such assholes. I told you I didn´t wanna read…” You protested as you take a drink from them.

“Aw, you were great either way, babes. Now come on. Let´s enjoy the evening.” Sarah tries to keep peace, laying a soothing hand on your arm. You know she means well. All of them do, but you still feel kind of hurt, that they had gone behind your back like that.

Over all the commotion and the people that read after you, you completely ignore the blonde stranger who, ever since you had entered the bar, couldn´t seem to turn his eyes away from you. Blissfully unaware of the dark thoughts behind them. And it stays that way until you leave. Tipsy, staggering up to the uber under his hidden watchful eyes. You close the door behind you and push the feeling of being watched aside as a side effect of being a woman alone in the outside world. He follows you in his own car. Thoughts of needing to have you and being the one for you swirling in his mind and possessing his every thought. Your mind however is occupied with the need for sleep and so he goes easily unnoticed. Looking through the widow of your ground level apartment as you undress and go to bed in only your underwear. He can even count himself lucky enough to go unnoticed by you over the next few days as you follow your usual routine. Going to the gym, the library, lessons, grocery shopping. Whatever you do, his eyes are on you. Until he is sure he knows your schedule by heart. Moving him along to step two of his plan.

You meet up with your friends at a bar again. A different one this time and on your own accord. It was the last day before spring break and them all leaving to visit home. All of them except for you. You don´t mind not going home so much as being alone for a whole week. So, you make sure to enjoy the evening with them and once again ignore the feeling of being watched that had sat in the back of your brain for the past week or so. And when you go to get another round of drinks, that´s when he strikes.

You make your way over to the bar. Not really looking where you are going, when you run into someone. Their drink spilling all over the front of your shirt. You jump back as the wet fabric clings to your skin.

“Woah, I´m so sorry. Are you okay?” The stranger gives you a bright smile, flashing his perfect teeth. A smile that reaches his lilac eyes. Making them sparkle and crinkling their corners. He holds out some napkins for the stain that steadily grows more uncomfortable.

“Thank you. Yes, no. Yeah, I´m alright. Uh, I´m sorry too. I totally didn´t watch where I was going.” You tap at the stain in order to hopefully take some of it off. Smiling back at him. You can´t help but to. “Let me buy you a new drink. To make up for all of that.”

“No, no. I should buy you one. I totally ruined your shirt. I insist.” He is so effortlessly sympathetic that you couldn´t even protest against his words if you wanted to.

“Okay.” Youn nod and follow him to the bar, where you sit down together.

“I´m Aegon, by the way.” He extends his hand for you to shake, which you do while offering up your name.

“It´s nice to meet you, Aegon.” The two of you order drinks and fall into conversation easily. Talking about anything and everything until you feel your phone vibrate inside of your pocket. Pulling it out you see Cassandra´s name on the screen. Reminding you of who you actually came here with and why.

Another glance at the clock tells you, that it is well past midnight.

“Shit, I didn´t realize it was that late already.” You turn to him to say goodbye. Ready to never see this handsome not so strange stranger ever again, when he makes you another offer.

“Want me to drive you home? It´s probably not safe out there at this time of night.”

“That would actually be so great, but I´d hate to inconvenience you. I probably live in the whole other direction from where you need to go.” You rub your neck. Taking a step back, ready to leave to say goodbye to your friends.

“Come on, it would be my pleasure to do that for you. I would hate for something to happen to you on your way home. Just say yes.” Aegon´s gaze is so intense and there is only one thought behind them, that the alcohol has made you ignorant of to his luck. If you leave alone now, he wasted his chance.

You sigh. “Okay, alright. Thank you so much. I just need to say bye to my friends and then we can go.”

He offers you his jacket to hide the stained shirt and then follows your lead back to the table.

“Hey, girls. I´m super sorry I just dipped, but I met Aegon and he´s gonna drive me home now. I´ll explain tomorrow. Okay?”

“Yeah, alright. Just be safe and don´t do anything we wouldn´t do.” They wink at you and turn back to their conversation as you and Aegon make your way outside to his car.

Ever so gentlemanly he opens the door to the passenger side of the golden Mercedes s-class for you, making you curtsy jokingly and giggle, then walks around to the driver side, to get in himself.

The two of you find your way back into the conversation and so you don´t even realize that you never actually told him were you lived. Nevertheless he pulls up in front of your apartment complex in no time.

“I had a really nice evening with you tonight.” He says with another wide grin and soft chuckle.

“Me too. And I´m sorry again for that drink. One would think that at my age I would´ve learned how to watch where I´m going.” You run a hand through your hair. Still slightly embarrassed about your carelessness.

“No, again, it is fine. I should have watched my steps as well, but if you really want to apologize you could give me your number? And we could meet up again some time. I´m guessing you´re on spring break too now.” It´s almost frustrating how good he looks with his head tilted and those beautiful lilac puppy dog eyes. If there was any doubt about wanting to see him again, they are all gone now. You need to see him again. So, you pull out your phone and give him your number.

“Don´t let me wait too long before I hear from you.” You give him one last smile before exiting the car. He sits in the car until you close the building door behind you and then parks his car around the corner to go back and observe you for a bit longer without being overly obvious.

Through the large windows Aegon watches you like every night of the past week. Stepping out of your clothes, doing your nightly skincare routine, before slipping on the smallest pair of pajamas he had ever seen and slip underneath the covers to watch some more tv. Falling asleep in front of it. All with an almost dorky smile. He thinks you are the cutest thing he has ever seen. The way you are so excited about your little meeting is something he has never seen in his life and he is instantly hooked. Fantasies about you being all excited and running up to him when he enters the apartment after a long day out enter his mind. Thoughts about sharing the sweetest kisses. When he opens his eyes he sees something that isn´t as innocent as he first perceived you.

Your hands caress your breasts and wander bellow the blanket, your back arching as they enter your core.

Aegon lets out a breathless curse. His own hand wandering inside his pants to tug on his length. His thoughts turn instantly. From innocent kisses to you arching your back up until your breasts touch his chest. Writhing and squirming underneath him from the pleasure he is giving you. Your tight walls fluttering around his cock as you come from the circles his thumb rubs into your clit. He has to clamp his hand over his mouth so you don´t hear him moan outside of your window. Once he´s finished, he leaves. Not wanting to push his luck, but definitely looking forward to the next time he´d see you.

The next morning you text the girls group chat. Apologizing for your behavior the previous night, by telling them every detail about the conversation with Aegon. How nice he was to you and how you thought that maybe, after a couple more dates, you could say he is the one. And as if he smelled you were talking about him in that moment you get a message from Aegon. Asking you out for coffee. You try to hide the smile that forces its way onto your mouth by biting your lower lip, even though there is no one there to hide it from. You answer him quickly and this time take a little extra time getting ready. Facetiming Aly, who is the only one that isn´t on a plane yet, to consult her on what best to wear. Even if she teases you relentlessly about being so nervous about a simple coffee date.

The truth is you haven´t been out on an actual date in years. Not after your last boyfriend had broken up with you for reasons only known to that absolute piece of shit. You had wasted three years pf your life on him and he couldn´t even give you a reason as to why he didn´t want to be with you anymore all of a sudden.

You take a deep breath to calm your nerves and hopefully stop the bouncing on your leg. Entering the small café he had asked you out to where you find him already sat at a table. A half smirk spreads his face. And by the seven you have to calm yourself down not to do anything embarrassing as a result of the glee you feel upon seeing him.

“Hey, I didn´t make you wait too long did I?” You ask bashfully.

“No worries. I basically just sat down.” He assures you. Watching with careful eyes as you take of your coat to reveal the dress you had chosen with Aly´s help and are now second guessing if the choice hadn´t been a bit too revealing.

“Phew, I´m glad to hear that. I hate making people wait for me.” You wipe away an imaginary drop of sweat and chuckle.

“Nah, you´re good.” He goes to say something else, but in that moment a waitress interrupts him to take your order. Which of course Aegon makes a mental note of. Just like anything he had learned about you so far. The waitress, an older woman, seems to recognize the nature of your meeting and how nervous you are and gives you an encouraging smile. You smile back at her and make sure to remember to tip her later.

“Alright so, normally I´d ask how you have been, but since we last saw each other last night I guess did you come home well yesterday?” You quipped.

“Yeah, I did. How about you?” The two of you share a laugh. Without the alcohol in your system he seems even more effortlessly charming. Coffee gets followed by dinner, which he invites you to. Talking about family, life, dreams and aspirations. You tell him about your parents’ divorce, the relationship you have with all of them, how studying and writing is going. How your dream is to be published one day. You open up to him more than you ever have to anyone in that short amount of time and he listens. He listens so well. Telling you about his studies and his father’s company, that he will inherit one day, yet he never makes you feel small compared to him, like others would probably make you feel. It would be easy to, but he just doesn´t. And your feelings for him grow ever stronger. He even persists on paying for you. Saying that you could pay the next dinner, but the two of you are aware that you could never earn enough money to pay a meal this expensive.

At the end of the day he drops you off at home once more, but when you hug him goodbye whispering “Thank you so much. I had such a great time today.” Into his ear he goes in for a kiss.

It’s a possessive claiming of your mouth kind of kiss. All clashing teeth and heavy bursts of breath. Wandering hands, pulling on clothes in a needy attempt to get the close proximity you both want so deeply. He pulls the air from your lungs only to breath it back into them a second later. It´s hard to do, but in the end you manage to pull away.

“It´s late. We should continue this another time.” You whisper with your forehead resting against his shoulder. Everything inside of you screams to keep going, but your brain told you to take it slow. To savor it.

“Okay. I can´t wait.” He lays a peck on the shell of your ear. Letting you go reluctantly. “Text me when you get home.”

You chuckle and step out of the car. Pulling out your phone the second you close the door behind you to text him a quick `I´m home. Had such a great time with you. Can´t wait to do this again <3´.

He watches the glow of the screen vanish behind the large window. Replying with a `Same. Sweet dreams<3´, but this time he doesn´t stay around to watch you. Instead he goes home to sink into one of the dreams he had ever since he met you. One where he watches you sleep in the morning, the rising sun and the way you lay sprawled out beside him making you look like an utter goddess. And then you wake up to give him a smile that makes him feel like he has a heart attack. It feels so real that when he wakes up to another text from you, he has to pull himself together to not mess up his carefully hatched out plan. His train of thought gets interrupted by his phone ringing.

“Good morning…” Your raspy morning voice comes out of the speaker. You sound absolutely gorgeous to him. Making his eyes roll back into his head a little.

“Good morning, doll. What´s up?” The smirk on his face is audible in his voice.

“Nothing much. I just wanted to hear your voice.” You murmur, rubbing your eyes. “Oh gods, that sounded so cheesy. I´m sorry.”

“Hey, you´re good. I actually think that´s really cute.” He muses.

“Oh? Well, I guess I don´t have to feel like it is too soon when I tell you I had the weirdest dream tonight.” You chuckle and clear your throat from the sleepiness.

“Really? Do tell.”

“I don´t know. I can only remember that we were together, in my apartment and I guess you were watching me sleep and it felt so real… I probably sound so weird right now.” You scoff at yourself. Wondering why you even told him that.

He on the other hand chuckles at your confession. Cursing himself out in his mind, to will himself to stay strong.

“I had the same dream. I hope you don´t think I´m like a stalker or obsessed or something now.” His tone is lighthearted, but the gods now he needs you to stay unconscious of that side of him. No, he wasn´t any of those things. He was looking out for you. You meant a lot to him and that meant he wanted to protect you. “So, you know. You at least aren´t weirder than I am.”

Sadly you have a shit ton to study, before spring break ends and so you aren’t able to meet again in the coming days. Of course that doesn´t mean that he can´t see you though. The feeling of being watched follows you around like a burning shadow throughout that time. Yet you push it away. Telling yourself that it was probably just exam stress or social anxiety or something. Which Aegon, knowing you as well as he does, is grateful for. Usually he would hate to see you anxious or stressed, wanting to take all that burdens you off you, but when it came to him getting caught… Well, not that he was doing anything wrong, but experience has taught him, that people tended to see things differently from him.

So he stays hidden. Texting and calling you every day and watching you sink your fingers or a toy into your sweet cunt each night. Every time he is overcome by thoughts of how you would make so much sweeter sounds if it was his length that your walls where fluttering around as wave after wave of pleasure rolls over you. Each time he reminds himself anew that things are going steady with you and it would only be a short while until those thoughts became a reality.

On one of those evenings you surprise him with another call. Curses fall from his lips under his breath as he scrambles around the corner, praying that you haven´t heard his phone.

“Hey…” He says after pressing the green button on the screen.

“Hey, is this a bad time? You sound kinda out of breath.” Your voice chirps on the line.

“No, you could never call at a bad time.” Except for now kinda. “What´s up? Didn´t you say you wanted to write all day?”

“Yeah, I did. When my friends come back tomorrow there will be little chance to do so uninterrupted, but um… I couldn´t focus. Like at all.” You murmur.

“Oh, can I do anything to help?” he purrs.

“You could get some Starbucks and come over?” You ask in the most tempting voice you could offer. Not that he needed much persuasion to tend to any of your wishes as soon as you asked.

“Sure. I´m on my way.”

“You´re the best. Thanks.” You chirp and then the only thing that can be heard on this side of the line is the tone of the disconnected call from the device in his hand. Sprinting to his car, he almost drops his keys in anticipation at the prospect of spending time with you. Basically racing to your favorite coffee shop to get coffee, and some pastries he knew would be more than happy about right now. He knew, knowing everything about you would come in handy one day.

At the same time you put your laptop to the side. Trying to find something to pass the time until he would arrive. Which was harder to do than you would have thought and so with nothing to do, you decide to put some effort in your little meeting. Sitting down in front of the small closet to look for a cute dress to put in. Getting ready just in time for a knock on the door.

“Come in, it´s open.” You yell as you go to sit back down on the couch.

“You know, you probably shouldn´t leave your door unlocked in this neighborhood. Whoa…” He stops in the doorway when he sees you.

“Wh-What?” You tilt your head and look at him with confusion in your wide eyes. You look so innocent right now.

“Do you always write like that?” Aegon puts down the snacks and vaguely motions to your outfit of choice. “Cause… If so, I want to always be around for it.”

You can´t hide the snorting laughter that forces it´s way out of your lungs. “That´s really sweet, but no. I usually don´t look like this at all when I write. In fact I usually look so much worse you would want to stay as far away from me as possible.”

“I seriously doubt I anything in this world could ever make me want to stay away from you.” Aegon lays his gentle hands on your shoulders and a feeling of warmth spreads in your guts.

You look up at him through your lashes and before you know it your eyes flutter close. Then, a moment later, your lips meet his in the most gentle kiss ever. And you don´t know when things escalate. If it is when your hands come up to cup his cheeks. If it is when you stand on your tip toes to make it easier to deepen the kiss ever so slightly or when his tongue presses against your lower lip to silently ask for entrance. The result is the same. The two of you forgot about why he came over in the first place and abandon everything to make yourselves more comfortable in the bedroom. Rolling around the mattress as you make out heavily. His hands are everywhere on your body at the same time, just as yours are on his. Each touch feels like the right thing to do. The only thing that feels even more right is the way he sinks himself into your tight, warm walls. Like he had wanted from the moment he first saw you.

He´s so careful not to hurt you and as you lay in his arms afterwards, cuddled close, his finger drawing small patterns on your shoulder, you can´t hold back the smile. This is the fastest you have ever gone this far with a person. Mostly out of fear, that they would only want to use you for it. Yet even after only one official date with him, you know there is no reason to be afraid. It´s almost funny how shortly you have known each other and yet you rely on him for everything. He knows you so well already, has an incredible gift of listening and observing, like no one else you had met before. Ever. Before you notice it, a giggle falls from your lips, just as he kisses your temple.

“What´s so funny, doll?” Fuck, even the nickname you usually hated sounded so good from his lips.

“Nothing, just… I just thought about how shortly we´ve known each other and yet we know so much about each other already. I never had that.” You say in an amused tone.

“I´m gonna go ahead and take that as a good thing.” He huffs a chuckle.

“Oh yes, definitely. I honestly love how open we can be with each other.” Oh if only you knew.

“Me too.” He mumbles into the crown of your head. Placing another peck there.

As it turns out it isn´t only the first time you sleep with him, but also the first time you spend the night together. Your activities had robbed all of your energy and with a little more quiet chatter, the two of you slide of into slumberland.

You are sad to watch him leave the next morning, but the alarm on your phone, that interrupts your romantic little breakfast that Aegon had cooked, painfully reminds you, that you promised to pick up Aly from the airport.

“I´ll call you later, okay?” You promise him as he steps out of your car.

“I can´t wait already.” He replies.

You make your way to meet your friend and of course he follows you once again. Extra careful that you don´t see his car. It wasn´t necessarily low-key after all. Things are easier once he follows you into a café that looks like no ordinary student could pay for the food there already, keeping a close eye on you as you and your friend order brunch, nothing unconventional from what you have told him about her and your other friends. He starts to toy with the idea of leaving to not get caught, when something Aly says makes his ears perk up.

“So, how is it going with your new favorite person?” Her tone is light and she wiggles her eyebrows at you.

“I already told you to stop calling him that.” You laugh at her antics. “And don´t even try calling him my boyfriend. We haven´t even been on two dates yet.”

“Yeah, alright. Not even on two dates, but he has also been inside of you and has spent the night at your place after getting you snacks simply because you asked him to…” she shoots you an unbelieving look. “Like seriously. And you haven´t even told me all the dirty little details yet. Bitch, you owe me. I thought we were friends.”

If his heart beat higher before, when the word boyfriend left your lips, it beats even higher now at the mention of your night together.

“There´s not much to tell.” You try to deflect.

Not much to tell? He asks himself. He thought he had done better than `not much to tell´.

“Oh hells no. You know I won´t let you off that easy.” She persists.

“Alright. Okay. It was great. He was so sweet and made sure to make me come like two times before he thought about himself. You happy now?” You try to keep your voice down as much as possible so the people around you don´t hear. Which is only a half success as Aly´s squeal gets you some of the unwanted attention anyway.

“Was he big?” Her question earns a shocked expression and gasp from you. And a concealed giggle from Aegon.

“I mean I guess. You know I don´t have much to compare it to, but I´d say he was solid.” You shrug. “Now can we please change the topic? How was your time with the family.”

Aly starts on a rant about everything her family did and said and so Aegon decides to go before he truly overtaxes his luck.

As he walks by the window you are sitting close to, you think it is him, weighing the options of saying something or not, deciding against it. You were just imagining things, because Aly was talking without a single pause and you missed him. You sigh, trying to concentrate on whatever your friend was talking about.

When you finally get home it is late afternoon already and you are pretty tired, but you can´t pass up on the call you promised Aegon.

“Hello there.” He picks up.

“General Kenobi.” You answer in the fashion that the Star wars quote commands.

“How did it go with your friend?” He asks feigning genuine interest as if he hadn´t been there for the most interesting part.

“Yeah, it went well. I just got home, basically.” You sigh and rub your eyes, who were burning for some reason.

“Wow.” He huffs amusedly.

“You can say that loudly. I originally planned on asking you if you want to come over, but I totally forgot that I have an early class tomorrow that I need to prepare something for. This week is gonna kick my ass…”

“Ah, damn. So how about we meet up Friday evening? I could pick you up and we could check out this new bar that just opened.” He suggests. Knowing already what this meant for the coming days.

“That would be so cool.” A yawn interrupts what you were saying. “Gods I´m sorry I´m really tired. Would you be mad if we hang up now and I´ll text you again before class?”

“Not at all. You go ahead and do your thing. I´ll hear from you tomorrow.” He reassures you.

“Thank you. Good night, Aeg.” You chirp.

“You have a good night too and don´t overdo it with the studying.”

“I won´t, mom.” Your faux annoyed tone gets broken up by one last chuckle before the two of you hang up. You always laugh so much with him. More than with anyone else and at the same time your deep talks are on such a level you don´t know how to express it to your friends.

You have always felt safe in your own home, shutting out the scary, real world. Unknowing, that someone stared at you through the large windows almost every day and night. But a window is just glass, and glass… oh it breaks so, so easily…

Friday takes forever to roll around, but when it finally does, nothing can wipe the smile from your face. Your mood is basically indestructible. As is his. You sing and dance your way all through out getting ready and when Aegon rings the bell you open the door with a spring in your step.

“Someone´s in a good mood.” Aegon muses.

“Just happy about seeing you.” You admit. Hugging him and kissing his cheek as a greeting. “Lemme just grab my purse and then we can go.”

You lock the door behind you and together he drives you out to a place that can hardly be classified as a bar. Upon entering the place you feel massively underdressed, but he doesn´t seem to care. He is just happy to be there with you and you are happy to be there with him. He asks about your week and how your writing is going while you sip one drink after another until you feel a light buzz. The alcohol making your insides feel as warm as his presence and his hand on your thigh do. Over the duration of the evening you gradually move closer, but by the time he drops you off, he lets you go with just a quick peck to your lips.

“Thank you for the nice evening.” You rub your eyes. Wanting to say something, anything to stay close to him just a bit longer, but your tired and tipsy mind can´t come up with anything.

“With you it´s always a nice evening. Now go on. Get to bed before you fall asleep in the passenger seat.” He squeezes your thigh one last time before he lets you open the door to head inside.

As always he parks his car around the corner to watch you until you fall asleep, but somehow tonight something is different.

Aegon feels a strange sensation tugging at his heart. A longing. To have you right this second. He doesn´t know what comes over him, but without a second thought he takes one of the stones in front of your window and throws it at the glass. It was meant to tap the glass, at least that´s what he tells himself, but instead it breaks it.

Fuck, Aegon curses under his breath, praying to the seven or any other deity that is willing to hear him that you didn´t wake up from the commotion. When your apartment stays silent, he decides that it isn´t safe for you alone with the broken window situation. It takes a few tries, but in the end he manages to climb through it. Keen on not making to much noise while walking over the shards on the ground, he tiptoes over to your bed.

You lay with your back towards the free side and so it is easy for him to slide in under the covers as well. He presses his chest as close to your back as possible, his hand laying innocently but protectively over your waist.

Aegon kisses your temple and silently promises to not close an eye, to watch over you, all night.

But the night is long and having you so close to him, smelling your shampoo and feeling your hips rub against his every time you shift in your sleep, makes it hard to keep his hand there. It also made him hard. The next time you shift in your sleeping state, his hand wanders down to your thighs. Once more and it lands trapped between them. Gently caressing your slit through the thin material of your leggings.

You sigh and stir lightly at his touch, but don´t wake up. Instead you just press yourself closer to him in your unconscious state. The action prompts Aegon to bite his lip to stifle the moan that wants to break free from his lungs. He can´t give himself away like this. He would only scare you and that is the last thing he wants to do. You simply look so good, how could anyone help themselves. You can be lucky he is there to watch over you.

A quiet moan comes from you as he continues his ministrations. The touch barely light enough to tease, but that heavenly sound pushes him further.

His hand slips underneath the waistband, past your lace panties and finds your already wet heat.

“Fuck.” He whispers, pushing two of his thick fingers inside of your entrance. He wants to take things so much further, but if he wants you to stay asleep he has to be careful. He pumps the two digits in and out of you at a slow pace. Feeling you grow even wetter as you squirm, quiet moans the only tell for the pleasurable feeling you are experiencing. He speeds up the movement of his fingers slightly, until he can´t take the lewd noises coming from your core anymore. He just has to taste you or he was sure he would die right then and there.

He shifts his position on the mattress, turning you onto your back, pausing when you stir again, moving to lay between your legs. Your pants are discarded and carelessly thrown to the side, before he dives in for the first taste of your heavenly center. He regrets not taking the time to appreciate your body the way it deserves, but he needs you so much there is no time for that now. His tongue licks a stripe up the length of your cunt, moaning at the sweet taste. And when he hears your own quiet moan and sees how you bring your hips closer to his face he is unstoppable. His tongue delves into you, fucking you with it and recklessly. Reaping every single one of your little noises and movements. He is so far gone that he doesn´t even realize, that with every new stir you start to wake up a little more.

At first your mind is still foggy with sleep and the pleasurable feeling his lips and tongue bring you. Your hand instinctively treads itself into his hair. But when you fully come to You scramble backwards until your back hits the headboard. His mouth chasing after you before he realizes what has happened and looks up at you.

“Aegon?! What are you doing here?” You gasp.

“Shh, it´s okay. Just let me worship you in the way you deserve.” Aegon slides his hand up your calf in a feather light touch.

“How did you get in here?” You ask, becoming more panicked.

“The door. I told you, you need to be more careful. You are lucky I came here to protect you.” His voice is soothing and so deep. And so you relax a little, leaning back as he resumes his previous activities.

But somehow something just feels wrong. Like a feeling in your gut. This is so unlike anything he has shown you of himself. Thinking about it he hadn´t shown you all that much in the first place. And that feeling just won´t let itself be shaken off so you shove his head away once more.

“Can we please just go back to sleep? I don´t really feel entirely in the mood right now.”

“Oh doll, that sounded much different a while ago. I didn´t even touch you all that much, yet you were still soaking those lace panties for me.” He climbs on top of you, rasping the words into your ear. “And the position I found you laying in… You´re such a fucking tease. It´s like you were begging for it.”

A sickening cold fear spreads in your system. A yelp leaving your mouth as he pulls you down by the ankle so your core is pressed to his. You are too in shock to return his kiss when he forcefully presses his mouth to yours. This is not the Aegon you know, but something tells you that this is the real Aegon. Coming back from the shocked state, you try to push him away. Hands pressed to his chest and legs eagerly searching for a way out, but he is too strong.

“I don´t want this, Aegon. Please stop.” You whimper into his shoulder as he mouths at your neck. Nibbling at all the most sensitive spots. Hating yourself for the growing even wetter as he rubs his length against your core. You don´t even know how or when he rid himself of his own pants. All you know is, that he now is pulling on your night shirt. Eager to get it off while simultaneously pinning your wrists down over your head so you would stop pushing him away.

As it turns out it is harder to do than imagined and so another yelp falls from your lips as he rips the fabric off your body. Your chest moving with fast and harsh breaths.

“Shh, everything´s alright. I´m here to take care of you.” He silences you with another unrequited, bruising kiss.

You are helpless against him, squirming and writhing underneath his much larger frame. This whole situation is so absurd and to add to all of it, when you bite his lower lip in a desperate attempt of self defense and getting the upper hand, he simply laughs. Tears start to prick in your eyes as the sound reaches your ears. As much as you want to blink them away they free themselves. Running down your burning cheeks accompanied by a sob.

“Aww, don´t cry doll. I´m going to make you feel so good. Just relax and let it wash over you.” His free hand wanders down to roughly caress one of your breasts. Rolling and tweaking the nipple between his fingers until the bundle of nerves stands hard at attention and your back arches off the bed. Which he takes as the sign to go ahead in what he is doing. Bringing his mouth down to the other breast, sucking and kissing on it until that nipple looks much the same like the other.

With one swift motion Aegon pushes inside of you, his cock stretching you out like no one had before. It is nothing like your first time together. He immediately starts to thrust inside of you at a fast pace.

"Aegon... please... st-op." You cry out to him to no avail.

Rutting into you at an almost breakneck pace. His head bows down and you feel puffs of hot breath hit the skin where your neck and shoulder meet. The feeling is utterly upsetting and you want to throw up at the same time you lost all the strength in your body. It´s all futile.

“I already told you I´m not gonna stop. You know deep down that you enjoy this. So why don´t you make this easier for yourself and stop fighting it.” His teeth sink into your tender skin harshly.

"Aahhh! Fuck, that hurts! Why are you doing this?" You question him.

"Because you deserve to be worshipped. You are a goddess walking amongst men." He nibbles on your ear. Much softer than the bite before, but that doesn't make anything better.

His hips continue to piston into yours. The sound of wet skin slapping against skin filling the otherwise quiet apartment alongside with your bitter cries. The moon outside is the only source of light illuminating his features.

You try to turn your head away from him, but he forces it back by your chin. So instead you close your eyes. You can´t stand to look at him anymore. His face that looked so sweet and innocent to you before is now distorted into a grimace of sick pleasure. Eyes closely watching your every reaction and a sheen of sweat covering his skin, sticking the front locks of his silver blond hair to his forehead.

With a few more thrusts he comes inside of you and for a short moment you have the hope that this is it. Aegon relaxes against you, but as your cries become weaker you notice how he only seems to get harder inside your warmth.

“Can you please let me go now?” You try again with a quiet, shaky voice.

“Oh, you think I am done with you yet? No no no. We are done when you come around my cock and accept me for who I am. What you made me.” His tone is nothing short of condescending and he tuts at you as your crying grows hysterical again.

You guess the gesture is supposed to soothe you, but it has the exact opposite effect.

You cry yourself into a near state of incoherency as he pushes your knees up against your chest forcefully, giving him a whole new angle inside of you. The way the head of his cock bullies your sweet spot is the final straw. It hurts. Despite it feeling so wrong it feels so good. You hate yourself even more as inadvertent pleasure runs through you like electricity. Making your toes curl and your eyes roll back. You scream louder with every thrust of his until you are near voiceless. You try to remind yourself that your body reacting to it doesn´t make it any more right and it doesn´t mean that you secretly enjoy it. But it´s so hard.

“You like it deep, don´t you?” Aegon´s voice in your ear painfully pulls you back into reality.

“Please.” You beg one last time, but the plea, just like all the others, falls onto deaf ears.

Your body gives up any last fight it has left. Quietly sobbing when your walls flutter around him and your hips start to shake. A wave of pleasure, or maybe just disguised shame, washes over you, provoking Aegon´s second orgasm.

“You are mine. You will never leave me. No one can love you like I do.” His voice sounds so soft. So genuine.

You almost want to believe him, but that would require a level of coherency you currently do not possess.

As you lay there with your whole body shaking, trying to come down from this experience and waiting for what he would do next, you ask yourself where things had gone wrong. What did you do to provoke this? To deserve this? Yet no matter how hard you pray to the seven for a sign or anything at all really, you don´t get an answer.

#aegon targaryen x reader #aegon ii targaryen x reader #aegon x reader #aegon ii x reader #aegon targaryen #aegon ii targaryen #aegon ii #dark!aegon targaryen x reader #modern hotd au #modern hotd #modern house of the dragon au #hotd #house of the dragon #hotd fic #house of the dragon fic #hotd x reader

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lovelynim · 16 days

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Take 9, recording!

ALIEN STAGE/Actors!AU - Ivan x Till

A/N: Really, really self-indulgent fic because I NEEDED to get some fluff after the damage Round 6 did to me. Also, I added a little hc that TIll is an experience actor while Ivan is still a newbie, etc, etc, you know the drill

Also, tagging @blobbirobbi, @norieoncrack and @vash-yuu because you three gave me the boost to do it this afternoon. Also tagging @tiredleekaz because i feel you'll like this (hopefully)

Summary: Round 6's recording site. Stage scene. Take... 9, sigh. Lights, camera... action!

Word count: 1305 words.

“Alright, let’s do it, guys!” The director shouted and the rest of the team promptly took their places. The camera pointed towards Till and Ivan as the studio was quickly engulfed by silence.

“Here we go… ‘Cure’, stage scene, take 9. Action,” the director commanded and the first beats of the song began to play right after. The spotlight turned to Till and, so, it began.

“Allow me, to the tip of your fingers. Allow me, to the ends of your feet.”

Ivan quietly hummed the song along while the cameras tilted around the other man, capturing the crowd’s motion in the background while Till’s voice took all the room in the studio. Ivan knew the team was tired and probably beginning to feel a little frustrated after a couple of mistakes, but he couldn’t help but enjoy every moment of it.

“Dissolve me in your gaze. I don’t want to let you go.”

‘Damn, he looks so cool right now’, Ivan thought as a smirk took place in his lips. The song went on and Ivan knew he had to focus. This was supposed to be a dramatic, emotional, tragic scene. He couldn’t be booping to the song they spent hours recording. Focus, Ivan, focus!

As Till continued to sing, Ivan decided it was a good time to rehearsal his lines. Maybe this would put him back in the right mood for this scene and, after all, he didn’t want to start the 10th take because he made the same mistake from 4 takes ago.

“Let me drown in you, until these falling stars are buried in the blur of time!”

Wait, was he at that part already?

Ivan opened his eyes and looked at the other guy with a slightly shocked expression. Gulping, he clenched his hands as he heard the piano keys starting to play in the background again. Time to shine, Ivan.

With heavy steps, Ivan walked towards his microphone. The camera was tilting right above him and it was a bit hard to keep a straight face, but he had to!

“Even if your cold words carve scars beneath my eyes.”

Carefully and gently, Ivan took his hands up and wrapped his fingers around the microphone. Holding it tightly, one word after the other left his lips and, as scripted, he was singing.

“May they linger on your tongue. You can break me apart.”

Narrowed eyes stared back at the camera in front of him. To the ones looking from the outside, Ivan seemed like the most confident actor in history, literally living up to his character. But on the inside, he couldn’t help but feel some nervousness stirring up. What if he sang the wrong line? What if he looked ugly on the recording? What if his voice cracked?!

No, it wasn’t time to think about those things. He managed to look at Till with the corner of his eyes and, even when he was idling, the sorrowful, tired look continued to stick to his face. So professional!

“Sick of those nights to come, to be engulfed by silence in your gaze where I’m seen. Consume me! Yes, me, oh oh!! ~”

Ivan would only be sure once they were done recording this scene, but he was almost 100% he nailed this part. He could feel his vocal chords slightly tiring, but nowhere near enough to make him stop.

And above anything else, the most important scene of this episode was coming up. The kiss.

“To this everlasting moment.”

“Face to face we dance.”

Ivan let out a small sigh as his last line was sung. Just as the words left his lips, the pages of the script started playing inside his head. ‘With a decisive move, you throw your microphone aside and walk to him’, he remembered the director explaining, detailing how it should be done.

“With our story lost in forever’s embrace!! ~”

Ivan felt literally chills running up his back when his eyes met Till’s. As a newbie actor, starring with someone as experienced as him was always an emotional rollercoaster, full of surprising moments that he would treasure forever. But not now. Now, he needed to focus.

Gently reaching for the other guy’s cheek, Ivan moved his hand to the back of Till’s head and pulled him into a kiss.

Part of himself questioned if he was supposed to enjoy recording this part over and over as much as he was doing, but knowing how annoyed the rest of the studio’s staff was at his mistakes, he would never voice such thoughts.

The instrumental played along with the flashing lights above them. Ivan only remembered the instructions that he should make the kiss last while Till would try to shove him away, but the director never said how, so there shouldn’t be much harm in improvising a little, right?

Ivan wrapped his free hand around Till’s slim torso, resting his fingers just below the other’s ribcage. Till pressed both hands against his chest, trying to push him away like the script told him to, but Ivan knew this wasn’t the lead to let him go, so he pulled the other man for another kiss.

However, there was something off.

He was told that, yes, Till was going to try to break their kiss and free himself, but it shouldn’t be… this effective, Ivan thought. Deciding that it would be better to just play along, Ivan moved his hand down to Till’s neck while the other pressed a little harder against his side, hoping this would be enough to keep him still to the end of the scene.

But with barely seconds before the time for the score to pop up above their heads and show his character’s demise, Ivan noticed that Till… was laughing?

“Pfft- d-duhuhude!” TIll giggled, elbowing his arm in another attempt to free himself from his embrace. “Q-quit tihihickling, ahaha!”

“H-huh?” Ivan blinked, looking down to the little space between their bodies and taking a few seconds to realize what the other guy meant. “Wait, you mean this?”

“GyAHah, y-yes! Thahat, d-don’t dohohoh it! I’m tihihicklish there!” Till laughed, throwing his head back (and maybe trusting a little too much in Ivan’s strength to hold him in place).

A fuzzy, warm feeling spread over Ivan’s chest as he heard those words. What a wonderful discovery! How could he not notice this before?! “Ahah, sorry… I mean, I didn’t expect this or this to be enough to tickle you, Till, ~” Ivan teased, carelessly spidering his fingers against Till’s side and ribs.

Before he realized, there were them again: fooling in the middle of the set. Till laughing, desperately trying to escape his hug while the only worry inside Ivan’s mind was to find where else his senior would be ticklish.

“Ivan! C’mohohon!” Till laughed while the lights of the studio turned back on, illuminating the whole scene again as this take was already beyond salvation. “I cahahan’t breheheathe!”

“Oh? But you are-”

“Guys!” The director protested, making the duo stop in the middle of the scene with a surprised look on their faces. Right, they were recording. And with people around them. A lot of people. “Sigh, let’s take a break, yeah? Five minutes, everybody.”

Despite the feeling of animosity towards them that seemed to spread across the rest of the staff, Ivan couldn’t stop himself from smiling and, much to his delight, the same seemed to go for Till.

“S-sorry, ahah, this one is my fault,” Till giggled as he got back into his own feet, rubbing his side where Ivan just tickled him. “Try to just, hmm… Hold my face?”

“Got it, I will keep that in mind,” Ivan hummed happily while walking off the stage by TIll’s side. Well, guess they couldn’t do much but wait for the next take now, right?

#alien stage #alien stage tickling #ivan #till #ivantill #lee!till #ticklish!till #ler!ivan #tickle fic #alien stage au

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randomyuu · 6 months

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there's a lover in the story, but the story's still the same

Ahh, don’t you love it when fear motivates your drawing mood? (not really)

That’s what I felt reading the scene that is drawn below. It’s fear for Yuuji but also feeling excited picturing an emotionless teen!Gojou so here I am. Always down bad for Vox’s Goyuu fics, aren’t I? *sighs*

Welp, here we go.

Title: there’s a lover in the story, but the story’s still the same

Author: @voxofthevoid

Second fic of the series there’s a lover in the story, but the story’s still the same

Pairing YuuGo, NSFW, please read the tags carefully before giving it a read... the usual drill ∠( ᐛ 」∠)＿

!!! SPOILER FOR THE FIC !!!

Highly recommend you guys to read them first. Or not, it’s up to you honestly :v

Usually I would gush about the fic but I’ve already done that under the fic itself so I just want you to know this comic is solely carried by me wanting to draw the ticking time bomb called teen!Gojou-post-discussion-with-adult!Ieiri. You could probably guess what they’re talking about :”)

The fear for Yuuji’s well-being started this, but Satoru’s cold eyes kept me going. I can’t get rid of it from my mind lmao

You can say drawing these kind of expressions is my jam (￣▽￣)

I hope I did Satoru’s emotions justice haha

A bit of my thoughts and doodle below. Unhinged maybe, it’s midnight, I got more work to do after this, and my brain cells are barely hanging on. Haha I'm living the life-

I AM STILL REELING FROM THE FACT I MANAGED TO GET THIS DONE.

There are so many things I want to talk about in the process of making this. But after I typed it out, most of them sounded so unnecessary so I rewrote it a few times. I tried to make this as short as possible lmao

Typesetting and sketching are the roughest parts of this project. During these stages, I kept feeling everything I did wasn’t doing the scene enough justice, and it was frustrating. As I planned this project, I read a few doujins and noticed the font types scanlation teams use. There are so many of them, and each helped convey the tone of each image. Felt like crying when I realised I’m not knowledgeable enough to apply good typesetting, ngl. And then the interior design. Fuck, the frustration is so real. I am absolutely clueless about this kind of thing. Tracing lots of references because I have no perception of space makes me feel even worse. I knew first times rarely create a masterpiece, but I was not satisfied with my accomplishment and the feeling of failing to fulfil my own expectations hurt.

BUT.

Thank goodness most of the things I need to draw are Shouko, Yuuji and Satoru. Because dear g o d drawing them healed me. I found so much comfort in drawing Shouko’s long hair and Satoru’s eyes and drowning Yuuji in an oversized hoodie. The comfort zone of character drawing never feels so real lmaooo

Drawing them was so effective that I can look back at the backgrounds with acceptance. Hey, I did it! Not perfect just yet, but I did it!

Haha I feel like I’m losing my mind. I don’t know if it’s in a good way or a bad way. Guess I do have one or two screws loose.

Only for Yuuji lmao

(nah I just need sleep, or cooling down from the rush of having finished this)

It might come off as a surprise if you’ve only seen my art on Tumblr, but I’ve always preferred to draw feminine-leaning ladies. I’ve always loved drawing their curves, whether it’s the figure, the clothes, or the (long) hair. But I’ve grown to like drawing masculine gentlemen as well with their sharp edges and straight lines, and now my ladies start to look more androgynous lmao

Anyway, I was pretty stoked to be able to draw adult!Ieiri! I… I kind of miss drawing long hair so here have some more before you go on your day ∠( ᐛ 」∠)＿

#yuu's art #jjk-fic-fanart #jjk-ship #五悠 #goyuu #goyu #5u #gojou x yuuji #I'll see you sometime later #if real life lets me haha #:")

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holylulusworld · 3 months

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The Widow - Prologue

Summary: You trust now one. Not since they got your husband killed.

Pairing: TFaTW!Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader

Warnings: death of a loved-one, reader is under protection, bitchy reader, arguments, grumpy Bucky, angst, blood, character's death,

The widow masterlist

Blood…so much blood.

You always feared your life with Ransom would end like this.

On the run, without anyone siding with you but the cops.

After your husband ratted his partners out it was only a matter of time before you ended up dead.

One greedy agent and you held your dying husband in your arms.

He choked on his blood, staring up at you with scared eyes. “Y/N…sorry…Y/N…”

“You goddamn idiot,” you cried and kissed him hard. “I know…I love you…”

Two years later…

“Why me?” Bucky releases the deepest sigh ever leaving his lips. “Sam, I don’t want to play babysitter for some spoiled woman. Maybe Torres can protect her.”

“Bucky, you are the only super-soldier I know. Torres is a good man and can stand his ground d. But the people who are after Y/N Y/L/N are not the cuddly kind of enemy. If they try to kill you, they use a scalpel to cut you into tiny pieces, not a weapon.”

“Do you try to cheer me up, or scare me?” Bucky scoffs. “You want me to risk my life for some criminal’s wife? Why? We agreed on doing this job to protect the innocent, not people getting rich at the expense of others. That’s not who we are.”

“We protect people who need protection. She ended up in this situation because she fell in love with the wrong man. I checked her background and found out that until her marriage with her deceased husband, she was a good person without a criminal record.”

“She lived a fabulous life, spending money she didn’t earn,” the super-soldier grunts. “How do we know she won’t rat us out, and we all end up dead?”

“You jump out of an airplane without a parachute and now you are scared of a widow needing your protection?” Sam grins. “Aw, are we getting old?”

“Watch your tongue,” Bucky points his gloved index finger at Sam. “I didn’t say that I’m scared. I just don’t trust a criminal’s wife.”

“Who’s that?” You size the new arriver up. “Another loser not knowing how to handle a gun?” You sneer as the agent tries to find another lie. “What? Do you want to tell me that this one will protect me and my husband better than the last agents?”

“Mrs. Y/L/N, this is James Buchanan Barnes,” the agent stammers, as if you should know the name. “He’ll protect you at all costs.”

“Oh, yeah? Like the other ones protecting us before?” You cock your head and raise your hand to stop the agent from talking. “Did you forget that you got my husband and his brother killed?”

“He got killed because he did business with the wrong people,” Bucky sneers. “You made your bed, now sleep in it. I’m not here on free terms. No one wants to protect the likes of you.”

You grit your teeth and glare at the newly arrived asshole. “Do you think I care? One of your so-called fine people ratted my husband and me out for some hard cash. So, you are no better than me. At least I didn’t kill people for money.”

“I see you will get along very well,” Sam pats his friend’s shoulder. “Just remember, don’t kill her. She’s the last witness alive. If she dies, they will all get away with their crimes.”

“I should leave you to your misery. Why should I care about their crimes?” You pucker your lips. “You got my Ransom killed! He only tried to make more money than his fucked-up family. He never harmed anyone with his transactions! When he found out about their crimes, he did the right thing!”

For a moment, you let your mask slip, and the grief shows. Bucky blinks, but the sadness in your y/e/c orbs is gone, and he’s not sure it happened.

"Just shut up princess and we will get along very well..."

Part 1

Tags in reblog.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #tfatws!bucky #bucky barnes x y/n #tfatws!bucky barnes

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shygirl4991 · 2 months

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Wotfi 2023 Wrong choices

Summary: It's the viewers choice on what happens next nothing could go wrong right? Tag: Main character death, Tw death, tw blood, angst, fourth wall break, @rabbitdemonloll has gotten me to do it again

SMG3 and four cough as another choice made by the viewers went wrong, SMG3 cursed to himself before coughing one last time, that's when the boys notice Chris and swag looking at the elevator door in concern. Turning around the buttons on the elevator were shot dead causing the elevator to start falling. They all start screaming as swag grabs Chris “BREAK MY FALL CHRIS!” Chris starts to panic trying to break out of Swags hold “WHAT! LET GO OF ME YOU IDIOT!” Three looks at three as they fall “DO SOMETHING QUICK OR WERE GOING TO DIE!” Four looks at the rizz watch and sees what the viewers voted for, he watches as BLJ goes green letting him know the choice they had to take. Four takes a deep breath getting ready “OK I'VE SEEN MARIO DO THIS A HUNDRED TIMES!” He goes to the corner of the elevator and attempts to glitch out of the elevator. Three stares at his partner smacking himself at the corner of the elevator “What the hell are you doing!?” in a panic SMG4 shouts back “I'M TRYING TO CLIP THROUGH THE ELEVATOR TO SAFETY!” hearing this Swag agrees to the plan joining on the attempt of clipping through the elevator. Three and Chris sigh, watching the two “We are so dead,” mumbles SMG3 as the pair keep trying to clip through. That's when the elevator crashed, Three opened his eyes, body sore from the impact “I..lived?” He looks around slowly to see Swag helping Chris up, cheering that the move saved them. He keeps looking around wondering where his partner was as he gets up, he looks at his rizz watch to see the next vote. Nothing showed letting Three know he had time to find his other half, he looked around the scraps of the elevator till he saw blood. He felt a chill go down his body “No…no he is fine don't panic Three, he has gone through worse.” He moves faster tossing things in a panic, Chris and Swag seeing the man panic walk up to him. That's when Three finally found his other half, he fell to his knees shaking his head. He lifts the body shaking it lightly “SMG4? Four…?” his eyes watered as he looked into SMG4 lifeless eyes face covered in blood. Three starts to shake “Four… Please, I can't do this without you…PLEASE LET THIS BE A SICK JOKE!” He holds the lifeless body close to him, Chris and Swag watch from afar unsure for once what to say. Three shakes as the rizz watch rings letting him know the next votes were in, his eyes go wide as he puts SMG4 body on the floor “you…you…ITS ALL OF YOUR FAULT! YOU FUCKERS VOTED FOR THIS!” Chris looks around confused, not sure who the man was yelling at. He grabs the camera glaring hoping his anger could be seen that it could be felt “YOU KILLED SMG4! YOU KILLED HIM…thanks to your…votes.” he breaks down crying, dropping the camera. Swag walks up grabbing the man “NOW THAT IT'S OVER WE ARE TAKING YOU TO MARIO AND MARTY!” Three looks at his friend's lifeless body. He then slumps in Swags grasp “Who cares…there is no point in getting the notebook..tell them they won.” A laugh was heard in the background watching the cameras “Interesting choices, you all made it very interesting.” A TV screen flickers on showing a face with a huge smile “ You all did good, it was entertaining, can't wait to see what you all do in the next show.”

#smg4 #smg3 #smg34 #shygirl4991 #angst #tw death #tw blood

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tcwmatchmakingau · 9 months

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Everybody Hates Neyo Round 2: Matchmaking Boogaloo

A/N: This is a standalone sequel to “Everybody Hates Neyo,” (NSFW) by @dystopicjumpsuit (that’s me), and “The Blacklist,” by the brilliant @blueink-bluesoul, who also generously let me borrow the character of Daria Trace (THANK YOU!). You don’t need to read those fics to understand this one, but you should because they’re great and they provide more background. I converted the Reader-insert into an OC because to be frank, she’s a piece of work, and I didn’t want to project that onto my readers. That said, as always, feel free to insert yourself into the story if you prefer; I haven’t described the OC beyond being a woman with hair long enough to pull.

Pairing: Commander Neyo x the Admiral (formerly Fem!Reader)

Rating: M | 18+ | Minors DNI

Wordcount: 6.5K (I know)

Warnings and tags: toxic, obsessive behavior; SO MUCH SMUT; hatefucking; rough sex; oral sex; PIV; hair pulling; biting; sex under the influence of alcohol; Neyo and the Admiral being absolute menaces to society

Disclaimer: Let me just put on my Auntie DJ hat for a second. *ahem* This is a work of fiction intended for entertainment only. Please do not take this as a guide to romance or a healthy relationship. Neyo and the Bad-miral are flawed characters in a wildly problematic relationship with more red flags than the Fire Nation. Enjoy!

Matchmaker extraordinaire Daria Trace was not accustomed to failure. When she applied her considerable intellect to a problem, she did not stop until she formulated a solution. Which was why her now-99% matchmaking success rate galled her so intensely. In all her years of matchmaking, she had never encountered a client so stubbornly determined to thwart her efforts as Marshal Commander Neyo. After twelve failed matches—one of which involved a call from an infuriated woman demanding to know “why the kriff you thought I was a good match for that sociopath”—she had reluctantly conceded defeat.

The blacklisting of Commander Neyo from the Right to Love Matchmaking Service spread like wildfire through the GAR gossip channels. Most of the troopers thought it was hilarious; others insisted that he’d finally gotten what he deserved. In fact, the only people who seemed to have any sympathy for Neyo were Commanders Bacara (to be expected) and Fox (somewhat less expected). And when Fox reached out directly to Daria and asked her, as a personal favor, to give Neyo one more chance, she agreed. One more chance, and ONLY to give her an opportunity to get that track record back up to a perfect 100%.

She glared irritably at Neyo’s file and clicked her stylus three times, twirling it between her fingers. The man was impossible. It was no wonder he’d turned to RTL for help finding a partner; any woman in her right mind would run in the opposite direction the minute she looked into those blank, frigid eyes. She shuddered involuntarily. Shark’s eyes. Daria had made a few discreet inquiries after he’d first signed up for the service, just to make sure she wasn’t about to set up some unsuspecting match with a serial murderer. Without fail, every single answer said the same thing: he was an ice-cold sonofabitch, but he had a strict code of honor, and no, he wasn’t a serial murderer. Probably.

She sighed and tossed his file to the side, to be revisited some other day. He was her most difficult client, but by no means was he the only problematic match candidate, and she had a small stack of what Blizzard liked to call The Hopeless Casefiles waiting for her to review. Just thinking about Neyo’s case had given her the beginnings of a spectacular tension headache, and she flipped through the folders quickly, looking for one that was a little less challenging. As she skimmed the stacks of flimsi, her eyes came to rest on one name: Reeda Wai’yen.

Now there’s a thought.

Daria was sure that Reeda was a lovely woman, despite all evidence to the contrary. She was just very… intense. Like Neyo, she had chewed through several potential matches, and the most frequent word that appeared in her failed matches’ post-date surveys was “intimidating,” followed closely by “terrifying.” Daria had sniffed disdainfully that those particular matches simply couldn’t handle a strong woman; however, she had to admit that after several months of trying, she had not been able to find a perfect match for Reeda. She pulled Neyo’s file and laid it out next to Reeda’s. As she compared their backgrounds and preferences, she became more and more convinced. This could work. Given their personalities, it might well be the best possible outcome for society at large if they were both removed from the dating pool. And if it happened to close out her two most annoying files, well. That would just be the cherry on top of her perfect-track-record sundae.

A timid knock sounded on Reeda’s office door.

“Come,” she called shortly.

Her assistant, Lissi, poked her head into the room. “Sorry to bother you, sir, but you’ve received a comm from RTL Matchmaking.”

Reeda cursed. She was up to her ass in flimsiwork, and she was meeting with the Senate Task Force on Galactic Security in ten minutes. She did not have time for this now.

“Take care of it,” she ordered.

“Sir?” Lissi asked, her wide, startled eyes giving her a distinct resemblance to a terrified ash-rabbit.

“Just take care of it,” Reeda repeated, tamping down her irritation at being questioned. “You know my schedule better than I do. Set it up. Somewhere nice—somewhere in the Federal district. I don’t have time to deal with traffic.”

Lissi blinked, nonplussed. “Don’t you want to see who you matched with?”

“No time,” Reeda said, rising to gather her materials for the meeting. “Just put it on my calendar, and I’ll be there.”

Three nights later, Reeda sat in the restaurant at the top of the tower where her penthouse was located, waiting for her mystery date to arrive. She had to commend Lissi’s efficiency in choosing the venue; the only traffic she’d had to endure was at the lift. And it was a lovely restaurant, she had to admit, with stunning views of the Coruscant cityscape. She had only eaten here once since she’d bought the flat, usually opting to have food delivered to her office at the Republic Center for Military Operations as she worked late into the night.

She had resisted the urge to bring her datapad with her to the restaurant, knowing that if she did, she would inevitably get sucked into work, but now she wished she’d taken a moment to review the file from RTL. It wasn’t that she thought all clone troopers were interchangeable; far from it. She had worked closely with them during the war, had fought by their sides, and she had found them to be brave, competent, and loyal. They were also notoriously attractive, but she was a professional, and she was their superior officer, and she had never allowed that line to become blurred—except on one memorable and highly regrettable occasion.

She had had no time for a personal life during the war, but now that it was over—well, to be honest, she still had no time for a personal life. Which was exactly why she had reached out to RTL; it was the perfect solution. She didn’t enjoy solitude. She wanted companionship, and maybe even something more. But she needed a partner who would understand the demands of her career, and nobody understood the burden of duty better than the clones. Now that she had separated from the GAR and returned to her post in her home planet’s military defense force, the rules regarding fraternization no longer applied to her.

She hadn’t bothered to review the file because she’d learned from the previous several failed dates that a promising file was no indicator of compatibility. Still, as she waited for her date, who was now seven minutes late, she wished she’d at least checked to see if he had any identifying marks or tattoos that would make him easier to spot. To be fair, though, the few clones present in the restaurant were already paired up with other diners.

Her stomach rumbled. She hadn’t intended to skip lunch, but she’d had back-to-back meetings with the joint chiefs of the Core Worlds Defense Alliance and the senate appropriations committee, and one thing led to another. The service droid had delivered a basket of fresh, hot bread rolls, which she had heroically resisted for the first six minutes past the scheduled start of the date, but now her resolve began to crumble. If her mystery date didn’t have the basic courtesy to be on time, by the Force, he wouldn’t have a leg to stand on if she ate all the bread before he arrived.

She buttered a roll and took a small bite. She couldn’t suppress the groan of relief at the buttery, yeasty goodness, and she quickly polished it off, then picked up another. She had just begun to butter her third role when the unmistakable voice of a clone spoke next to her.

“Admiral.”

She turned automatically, a smile just beginning to form on her lips, when she caught sight of a familiar set of numbers tattooed on a handsome, arrogant face.

“Oh, no,” she said with disgust. “What are you doing here?”

“I could ask you the same question,” Marshal Commander Neyo replied contemptuously. “I have as much right to be here as you do.”

“I’m on a date,” she snapped.

He looked pointedly at the empty chair across from her. “Looks like your date has a strong sense of self-preservation. Probably took one look at you and ran for their life.”

“He’s just a little late,” she said, tilting her jaw at a haughty angle to hide the flash of hurt at his words.

“That must kill you,” he said with a mirthless chuckle. “I remember the time you made a Jedi padawan cry for being three minutes behind schedule.”

“There were barely tears. Do. Not. Sit,” she gritted out as he made himself comfortable in the chair across from her. He picked up one of the remaining bread rolls and took a large bite, and she sighed. “Why are you here, anyway?”

“It just so happens, I am also on a date,” he said, mumbling around the bite of bread.

“Oh?” she wrinkled her nose at his table manners. “And who’s the unlucky lady?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know. Some civvie named Reeda.”

Her hand tightened dangerously around her butter knife. Neyo’s eyes dropped to the blade, and he smirked.

“Disappointed?” he asked.

“You could say that,” she said, grinding her jaw. “I’m Reeda.”

He choked on his bite of bread and wheezed a bit, pounding his chest to clear his airway. Alas, he survived.

“What?” he sputtered.

“You didn’t even bother to find out my first name after you were inside me?” she demanded. Her sharp tone attracted attention from the surrounding diners, and she heard a few quiet titters from the tables around her, but she was too irate to care.

“You didn’t even bother to find out who’d be eating dinner with you?” he retorted.

“Don’t pretend you aren’t just as surprised as I am,” she snapped. “Didn’t you read the file?”

“I didn’t get a file, just a call.” He grunted. “Apparently, ‘beggars can’t be choosers,’ and I was lucky to get a match at all.”

“Why am I not surprised?” she mocked.

“Careful, Admiral. Don’t forget they matched you with me.”

“I would be insulted if it weren’t so obviously a mistake. I can’t say I’m impressed with their performance thus far.”

“For once, I agree with you,” he said. “You’d have to be a special kind of incompetent to think we were a good match.”

The service droid approached the table and asked, “May I take your order?”

“He’s not staying,” Reeda cut in.

“I’ll have the bantha filet,” Neyo replied, ignoring her. “Bloody.”

He turned to her and arched his brows. The droid waited expectantly.

“I’ve suddenly lost my appetite,” she lied.

Neyo’s mouth twisted, and he huffed a breath through his nose. “The admiral will have the roast porg. And a bottle of Alderaanian red.”

The droid nodded and ambled away. Reeda glared at Neyo.

“I don’t eat meat, you presumptuous ass,” she said.

“Liar,” he said. “Unfortunately, the souls of the innocent weren’t on the menu, so I had to settle for your second-favorite meal.”

“At least you’re safe, since you obviously have no soul and you’re definitely not innocent,” she said in a pleasant tone.

Damn him for being right about the porg, though. How did he know?

The wine arrived, and he poured a generous glass for each of them. She didn’t toast; just downed half of it in a single swallow. Neyo sipped his and leaned back in his chair to observe her. His sleek, severe hair and the large tattoo on his cheek made him look menacing as hell, but it was his eyes that made brave men take a step back. She didn’t know how it was possible for his eyes to be that unnerving. Gods, why did he have to be so handsome? What a waste of perfectly good Fett genes to have a personality like that.

“Did you stay just to torment me?” she asked when the silence stretched beyond the limits of her endurance.

“And because I heard the filet was good,” he said affably. “What are you even doing on Coruscant? I thought you’d scuttled back to whatever hellhole spawned you.”

“Kuat,” she bit out from between clenched teeth. “I was assigned to work as our military liaison on Coruscant.”

“Couldn’t stand having you back on the planet?” he derided. “I don’t blame them.”

“I need to use the fresher,” she said, flinging her napkin down on the table with excessive force. “Feel free to die while I’m gone.”

She strode purposefully through the restaurant, her face set in a steely mask. She knew she was drawing attention from other patrons, but if she sat at that table and listened to Neyo needle her for one more second, she was either going to stab him or burst into tears. She pushed through the refresher doors and went to the sink, washing her hands just to give herself something to do. The face that stared back at her from the mirror was Admiral Wai’yen, not Reeda. Stern. Unyielding. Unaffected.

She swallowed, and her face crumpled. Tears of rage stung her eyes, and she ruthlessly wiped them away with her clenched fist. A soft noise at the door startled her, and she whirled to face the intruder. Horror flooded her. It was Neyo, and he’d caught her crying in the ladies’ room.

“What the kriff do you think you’re doing in here?” she demanded icily. “Get out.”

He stared at her for a moment, and then he locked the door. Stalking across the room, he cupped her jaw in his hands and tilted her face to get a closer look. She tried to pull away, to put her Admiral Wai’yen mask back in place, but then his thumb stroked softly next to her eye, wiping away the tear that had breached containment. She gasped involuntarily, and his lips collided with hers.

Reeda was so shocked that for a moment she went perfectly still, but then Neyo flicked his tongue across her lower lip, and her body remembered how to move. She thrust him away and stood back, glaring at him. His chest rose and fell quickly, and those cold eyes blazed with a dark and covetous fire. She raised a hand to her lips and felt the slickness left by his tongue. Something snapped inside her. She took two hasty steps forward, and she was in his arms again, his hands rough and dominating on her body as they consumed each other with a kiss that teetered on the edge of violence.

Lips, tongues, teeth crashed together. He clasped her tightly against his hard, unyielding body, and unbidden, the memory of him deep inside her came flooding back. He gripped her ass and ground his rapidly stiffening cock against her. Her reaction was electric. She rolled her hips, nearly climbing him in desperation. He dropped his mouth to her neck and kissed her once, roughly, and then to her breast, yanking aside her dress as he closed his teeth on her soft skin. He picked her up by the waist and set her on the edge of the sink, dropping to his knees between her thighs, rucking up her dress around her hips, and then his mouth was on her.

He didn’t even bother removing her underwear, as though he couldn’t wait another millisecond to taste her. He licked and sucked on her through the fabric, his mouth working frantically. Her body jolted and trembled at the effort of staying upright, and then his tongue snaked past the lace and dipped into her, smooth and hot and wet. He let out a vicious growl and grabbed her hips, settling her thighs over his shoulders, and then he pulled her off the sink and thrust her against his face as his tongue speared over and over into her cunt. She yelped and scrambled to brace herself with her hands, her arms shaking with exertion.

She couldn’t come like this, but kriff, it was hot to feel Neyo throw her around with such ease, like she was his own personal toy. How many nights had she fucked herself to sleep to the memory of their first encounter? The way he’d lifted her bodily off the ground and thrust into her, supporting them both with those powerful thighs—it played on a loop in her head for months, long after the bite marks and bruises had faded.

His tongue slid out of her cunt and swirled around her clit, and her legs spasmed around his head. She couldn’t come like this. Could she? All the muscles in her body began to tense, and her pelvis began to rock rhythmically against his face. Shit, I’m going to come. No sooner had the thought formed than Neyo dropped her back onto the sink and pulled away from her.

“No!” she wailed. “You bastard, I was right there!”

He shot to his feet. “Shut. Up,” he bit out, and kissed her punishingly hard. “Do you want the whole Federal District to know what we’re doing?”

He pulled her head back to expose her throat, and he scraped his teeth across her delicate skin. She felt his other hand fumbling in between them. Within seconds, his cock was free and thrusting against the scrap of lace that still covered her. She wrapped her legs around him and pulled him against her, determined to find the stimulation that she needed to reach completion.

“Get inside me,” she hissed.

“You aren’t calling the shots any more, Admiral,” he growled. “You don’t get to give commands.”

“I hate you,” she breathed.

“And yet here you are, begging for my cock,” he said coldly.

“I do not beg,” she said. “Ever.”

He released her hair and pried her legs away from himself, then took a step back. “You get nothing until you admit that you want me. I’ve waited a long time for this. I can keep waiting.”

“What the kark is that supposed to mean?” she demanded, sliding off the sink to stand in front of him.

“It means you give me what I want, or I walk out that door right now and you can figure your own shit out.”

Was this his twisted kriffing way of asking for consent? Because she was pretty sure she’d covered that when she all but ordered him to fuck her.

“Fine,” she said in a low voice. “I…” She nearly choked on the words, and Neyo’s intent gaze pinned her in place. “I want you.”

He wrapped his hand around the back of her neck and pulled her in for a bruising kiss, then spun her around and bent her over the sink. He pulled up her dress, yanked down her panties, and thrust into her. She muffled a whimper at the intrusion and squeezed her eyes shut as she adjusted to the stretch. He wrapped his hands around her hair and jerked her head up.

“Open your eyes. I want you to watch,” he ordered.

She complied, shocked when she saw her own ravaged face in the mirror as Neyo pounded into her from behind. Her makeup was smeared, her hair was a wreck, her eyes were dilated with lust, and a sheen of sweat glistened across her skin. She flicked her gaze to stare at Neyo. His face was twisted into a scowl, and if she had any sense at all, she would have been frightened, but she was in too deep to care. His hard eyes met hers in the mirror, and his jaw tightened.

He released her hair and slid his arm around her body, between her breasts, to wrap around her throat, and he lifted her upright so he could whisper in her ear.

“Do you know what you did to me?” His voice was hoarse and anguished. “Every time I kissed someone, all I could taste was you. Every time I hooked up, all I could remember was this perfect fucking pussy.”

He pounded into her with bruising intensity, furiously working her clit with his free hand. Her head began to throb. This was so wrong. He couldn’t be saying what she thought she was hearing. She was confused from the lack of blood flowing to her brain.

“I got matched twelve different times, and not one of them was right, because not one of them was you,” he snarled. “You cursed me. You haunt me.”

The world began to darken around the edges as her eyes drifted closed, and he released her throat and forced her head to the side so she faced him.

“Look at me when you fucking come,” he ordered.

She gasped, and he clamped his hand down over her mouth to muffle her scream as he wrenched an orgasm from her body. He didn’t let up, chasing after her at a frenzied pace that rocked her entire body as she sobbed into his hand.

“Inside?” he asked roughly.

She nodded and whimpered as tears blurred her vision and spilled down her cheeks. He came with two brutal thrusts, and she felt the hot rush of his release deep inside. He shuddered against her hair as his cock softened and slipped out of her. At last, he loosened his grip and turned her to face him as he leaned against the wall for support. He wrapped her in his arms and stroked her hair as she rested her head against him.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” she sighed as she licked his neck, unable to resist the temptation of tasting his skin.

“I’m sure there’s an official list in my GAR file,” he said, pressing a soft kiss to her temple.

Reeda cleaned up quickly while Neyo went back to their table so they wouldn’t be spotted leaving the refresher together. Her hairstyle was destroyed, so she hastily repinned it as well as she could, and then wiped off the mascara that smudged heavily beneath her eyes. A quick reapplication of lipstick, and she almost looked presentable—with the minor exception of her missing panties, which Neyo had silently retrieved from the refresher floor and tucked into his pocket while maintaining strong eye contact.

When she returned to the dining room, Neyo waylaid her with a ferocious expression. Force, what is he scugged about now?

“We’re leaving,” he said, taking her by the wrist and pulling her toward the exit. A few quiet murmurs whispered around the room as he dragged her behind him.

“What?” she asked, tugging her wrist to no avail. “Why?”

“The karking droid gave away our table,” he said.

“My deepest apologies, Admiral,” the droid said. “We can locate another table if you would care to wait.”

Reeda assessed the room quickly. Every table was occupied, and none of the diners were anywhere close to being ready to leave. Moreover, at least half of the customers were eyeing her and Neyo with expressions ranging from amusement to overt curiosity.

“No,” she said. “Have the food delivered to my flat.”

“Right away, sir,” the droid replied, waddling off to relay the order to the kitchen.

Neyo looked at her inquisitively. “Your flat?”

“I live in this building,” she said. “Come with me.”

She was keenly aware of the many sets of eyes that tracked their hasty exit, but before long, she led Neyo into the private, secure lift that opened directly into her penthouse. He stood silently next to her on the trip up, watching her with an inscrutable gaze. She tried not to give herself an opportunity to second-guess her decision to let him into her home. Strange, she thought, how this seemed more intimate than allowing him inside her body. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d allowed another person into her home.

The lift doors opened, and he followed her into the flat, pausing long enough to remove their shoes, then looking around curiously.

“Lived here long?”

“A few months,” she said. “I bought it when I found out I’d be stationed on Coruscant long-term.”

“It’s nice,” he said. “Very… clean.”

She laughed. “You mean sterile. I haven’t had time to do much decorating. I’m hardly here except to sleep, anyway.”

He nodded. “I thought I’d have more time for hobbies after the war ended, but now it’s just nonstop—”

“Red tape and committees,” she finished with a sympathetic grimace. He shot her a wry grin. She didn’t think she’d ever seen him smile before, and it did uncomfortable things to her brain. She tried not to think about it, instead asking, “What kind of hobbies? Aside from plotting my slow death, obviously.”

“Oh, you know,” he said vaguely. “Torturing small, adorable creatures; sharpening my vibroblade collection; collecting stamps; that sort of thing.”

She blinked. “I can’t tell if you’re joking.”

He regarded her steadily for a moment, eyes unreadable as ever. “You really think the worst of me, don’t you?”

She was taken aback. “I—”

Her reply was cut off by the chime of the door. The food had arrived, thank the Force, which gave her a moment to stop herself from blurting out her immediate thought: You’ve never given me any reason to think anything else.

Neyo was a competent soldier—brilliant, in fact. There was no question that he had one of the finest tactical and strategic minds in the GAR. But as a person? From the moment they’d met, he’d been antagonistic, sardonic, cold. He’d challenged her authority and provoked her in meetings. He’d only treated her with the barest semblance of civility in public, and in private—Well. They both knew how things went when they were alone.

The service droid rolled a cart into the dining room and began setting up the meal.

“Can I get you a drink?” she offered Neyo. “I don’t have any Alderaanian red, but I do have Cheedoan whiskey.”

“The good stuff,” he replied. “I’ll have a glass. Thanks.”

The droid finished setting up and shuffled out the front door as Reeda poured two generous glasses of whiskey at the wet bar.

“Ice?” she asked.

He didn’t answer, and when she turned around, she nearly dropped the glasses in surprise to find him standing close behind her. He locked his eyes on hers and never looked away as he took one of the glasses and drained it in a single swallow, then set it down with a decisive click on the counter. Her heart began to pound as he loomed over her. He traced his fingers from her elbow up to her wrist, and then he wrapped his hand around hers and raised her glass to her lips.

The whiskey burned a fiery path across her tongue and down her throat. A few droplets escaped and splashed coldly on her chest. Neyo didn’t let up until she emptied the glass, and when she was done, he leaned down and sucked the liquor off her skin. His hands dropped to her hips and slid up her back as he located the zipper of her dress and dragged it down excruciatingly slowly, and all the while, his mouth moved across her skin. He slipped the straps down over her shoulders and let the dress fall to the floor, and then he kissed a path along the lacy edge of her bra.

“Thanks for the matched set,” he said, unhooking it and pulling it off.

“Those were expensive, asshole,” she said unsteadily.

He didn’t reply, but she knew she was never going to see that bra again. He kissed his way down her breast and captured her nipple in his mouth, abrading it lightly with his teeth. She jolted, and the empty glass slipped from her hand and smashed against the hard tiles of the floor.

Neyo barely responded to the sound of shattering crystal. Reeda froze, keenly aware that the smallest movement could result in a bloody footful of glass. She stood utterly, helplessly still as he continued to explore her body with his teeth and lips and hands and tongue. He was thorough in his attentions, and something about being entirely at his mercy was wildly arousing. Her head spun as the whiskey began to work its insidious way through her bloodstream.

“I missed this perfume. What is it?” he murmured against the soft skin of her abdomen.

“I don’t wear any,” she said.

He nuzzled against her as though he could transfer her scent to his own skin. Without warning, he scooped her up and carried her out of the room, completely disregarding the risk to himself. But instead of dropping her as soon as they were clear of the broken glass as she expected, he asked, “Bedroom?”

“Left,” she said, and he strode across the flat and kicked open the door, to her intense irritation. “You gonna pay for the broken doorknob?”

He didn’t reply, just tossed her onto the bed and pounced on her as soon as she landed. He slid in between her thighs and gripped her hard as his mouth descended on hers, kissing her as though he were trying to devour her soul. He was still fully clothed, and she scrambled to pull off his shirt. He was completely unhelpful, too engrossed in her taste. She raked her nails across his skin as she yanked his shirt over his head, and he seized her lip in his teeth in revenge.

At last, the barrier of his shirt was gone, and she writhed against him, desperate to feel as much of his warm, smooth skin against her as possible. They clashed together, sinking nails and teeth into each other. At some point, Neyo got his trousers down enough to free his cock, and he shoved into her. His belt chafed harshly on her delicate skin as she wrapped her legs around him, urging him to go deeper, harder, faster. The sounds they made were unholy, primal: growls and grunts and screams of pain and ecstasy as they tore into each other with all the aggression that they had built over the years.

She pulled his hair; he clawed her back. She slapped his face; he bit her shoulder. She snarled that she loathed him; he interlaced his fingers with hers and whispered how beautiful she was when she came apart beneath him. She thrust him away and kicked him across the bed; he pinned her down and fucked her until she sobbed and begged for more. At some point, she tasted blood, and she didn’t know or care whose it was. And when at last she lost count of how many times he’d brought her to orgasm, he curled his body around hers and traced his thumb softly over her features as she drifted to sleep.

“If I die while I’m inside you, it’s the closest I’ll ever get to heaven,” he whispered.

“Force, you say some kriffed up shit,” she grumbled.

Reeda awakened slowly, aware of something blissfully warm and soothing moving across her skin. She cracked her eyes open. Neyo was lying on top of her, dragging his tongue lazily over her body. He roamed along her curves, and it wasn’t until he paused at her bruised wrist that she realized what he was doing.

“Are you licking my wounds?” she breathed.

He didn’t answer, but his eyes met hers with an intensity that bordered on madness. Gods, everything about this was so fucked up, and she didn’t dare examine too closely why she found it so incredibly arousing. He moved slowly, meticulously, his tongue gliding softly over every centimeter of her body, until she felt like a bomb, ready to detonate at the slightest spark. She came before he ever reached her cunt, and again as he rocked gently inside her, his lips soft against her mouth, silent tears spilling from the corners of her eyes to course down her temples.

After, he guided her into the shower, and when her legs gave out, he held her upright as the hot water washed over them. Once he’d massaged her entire body with his strong, soapy hands, he dried her off and laid her back on the bed while he spread bacta across the damage he’d inflicted. It was disorienting to be cared for so thoroughly by the man who’d spent the better part of four years making her life hell. He didn’t speak, and she didn’t know what to say, so in the end, she simply watched him in silence.

When he finished with the bacta, he retrieved their dinner from the dining room. The food had long since gone cold, but after hours of intense physical activity, they were famished, and they ate it anyway, sharing bites and sipping whiskey straight from the decanter. Neyo sat with his back against the headboard, his long, strong legs bracketing Reeda as she leaned back against his broad chest.

“How did you know porg was my favorite?” she asked.

He shrugged. “They’re tiny, cute, and innocent. I just assumed you would enjoy extinguishing the life from them and consuming their remains.”

She laughed and snuggled closer to him. “Is that why you order your meat rare? Because it’s the next best thing to drinking straight from the source?”

“Finally, someone who understands,” he smirked. “Truthfully, I overheard you tell Admiral Coburn that porg was your favorite during a banquet at the strategy conference at Valor.”

She turned to stare up at him. “Neyo, that was two years ago. That was before we ever…”

“I know,” he said, burying his face in her hair and breathing deeply.

“Stalker,” she murmured.

He dropped his mouth to her neck, and she tilted her head back against his shoulder as his lips glided across her skin.

“What does it say about you that you like it?” he whispered when he reached her ear.

He pulled her close, positioning himself between her and the bedroom door. From the proprietary way he held her, she knew it was a deliberate choice; any threat that came through that door would have to go through him before it got to her, and she had a feeling that there weren’t many beings in the galaxy that were brave or foolish enough to try.

Reeda jerked awake to a furious pounding at the front door. Neyo was already halfway out of the bedroom, stark naked and armed with a steak knife from their midnight dinner.

“Wait here,” he ordered, his voice hard and flat.

She rolled her eyes as she pulled on a bathrobe and grabbed a blaster from her nightstand. Neyo glared at her when she joined him, but didn’t bother yelling at her.

“Coruscant guard! Open up,” a modulated voice shouted harshly from outside the door.

Neyo glanced questioningly at her, and she shrugged, hiding the blaster behind her robe. He stepped out of view of the door, and she opened it to find none other than Marshal Commander Fox, flanked by two Corrie ARC troopers.

“Commander,” she greeted him, not bothering to conceal the surprise in her voice.

“Good to see you’re in one piece, Admiral,” he said. “Are you all right?”

“I beg your pardon?” she asked, baffled.

“We received multiple calls about a disturbance at your address. Are you alone?”

Reeda felt a hot rush of blood wash over her face and neck. “I fail to see how that is any business of yours, Commander.”

“Sorry, sir, but it’s my duty to—” He stopped abruptly, and his visor shifted to a point behind her.

“Isn’t this a little below your pay grade, Fox?” Neyo drawled close behind Reeda.

Fox’s visor turned back to Reeda, then to Neyo, and then back to Reeda again. The two ARC troopers appeared to be fascinated by the walls on either side of the front door.

At last, Fox spoke. “I don’t send shinies to wake up admirals.”

Neyo’s hand slid possessively around the front of Reeda’s abdomen, and he pulled her against his nude body. Something large and solid prodded against her backside. Dank farrik, is he turned on right now? Sick bastard.

“Thank you for your concern,” she told Fox, “but everything is under control.”

“So I see,” Fox replied. “Still, you’ll need to keep the noise level down, or I’ll have no choice but to arrest you for disturbing the peace.”

Neyo reached forward silently and shut the door in Fox’s face, then he spun Reeda around, picked her up over his shoulder, and carried her back to the bedroom. The last thing Fox heard was the unmistakable sound of Neyo’s hand slapping her ass as Reeda shrieked with indignant laughter.

Republic Military HQ buzzed quietly with speculation the next morning when not one, but two of the most senior command staff called in sick for the first time in either of their careers. Rumors swirled: some were convinced a secret bioweapon had been released by Separatist holdouts; others maintained that the stress of dealing with politicians was beginning to take a toll; still others claimed that it was a coverup and that the marshal commander and the admiral had been taken hostage by pirates. It was whispered that Commander Fox had a particularly haunted expression that morning, and two of the Coruscant Guard ARC Troopers had contacted the legal department to update their wills. In the midst of all this, the beleaguered Lissi received a brusque order to inform RTL Matchmaking that the admiral no longer required their services.

Daria drained her third iced caf of the morning as she flicked through her holomessages. Buried amidst the intake forms and meeting invitations was an abrupt-bordering-on-rude note from Marshal Commander Neyo ordering her to close his file.

“Why do you look like the tooka that got the blue milk?” her fellow matchmaker Tarsi Renda asked as she passed Daria in the corridor.

“Oh, no reason,” Daria smiled. “The galaxy is back to normal, that’s all—and my track record is once again perfect.”

---

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beels-burger-babe · 2 years

Text

Changing Behaviours

***This is a prompt I've had in my drafts LITERALLY since I created this blog (aka a year and a half ago). I changed the angle to better suit my spooky month needs, and I am so so excited! I hope you all enjoy this as much as I do! As per usual with my darker stuff, PLEASE exercise self care before, during, and after reading this fic. KNOW YOUR LIMITS. READ THE TAGS. Please read safely. Love you -B***

Summary: Something has MC shaken to their very core. The brothers can see it, but they don't know how to help.

CW: Paranoia, Mentions of past abusive relationships, very brief implied suicide (of a background character), thoughts of murder,

Since your arrival to the Devildom you were a constant to the brothers.

You were a support system that they could rely on at any moment. You were a friend — family. You had introduced love and light back into their lives and showed them that they could be good.

Now, after two years of being down below, they had come to depend on the security that you offered in the warmth of kindness.

But all good things come to an end.

Upon later reflection, none of them could pinpoint the exact moment when you had begun changing. It had been subtle, fast, and all too easy for them to brush aside as their human having a bad day.

When establishing a timeline for the trial, Beelzebub would testify as the first of his brothers to notice something was off.

Two months before the incident, Beel had gone to the gym for his typical workout. But as soon as he entered the room, the steady sound of fists against a punching bag echoed through the otherwise empty, concrete chamber.

With a frown, he wandered closer to the noise when he spotted you. Your fists were bare and knuckles were bruised, sweat dripping down your face with gritted teeth as you pounded into the punching bag with a dazed, yet fearful, look in your eyes.

"MC?" Beel called out, concern pooling in his gut as he watched the skin stretched around your taut knuckles begin to split. "MC!"

An infuriated shout filled the air as you swung your leg around and kicked it harshly against the bag before stumbling away from it.

You leaned against your knees, panting heavily, as Beel looked at you with wide eyes.

"MC," he tried again as you wiped the back of your hand across your forehead, staining your skin with blood.

"Yeah?" You panted, wincing as you looked down at your trembling hands.

Beel pressed his lips into a thin line, watching as crimson began to drip down your fingers, and your legs threatened to give out beneath you.

He sighed and moved over to you, offering out his arm. "Come here," he mumbled softly. "You need to take proper care of yourself before you begin a workout like that. Wrap your fists. Stretch."

He led you over to a wooden bench sitting nearby and pulled a small bag out from his gym duffle bag. He quietly grabbed a bottle of hydrogen peroxide and looked at you warily. "Just um ... this might sting."

You hissed through your teeth as he poured the clear liquid over your poor hands. It was strange to see you standing so quietly as he bandaged your injuries. There was a stiffness to your shoulders and a furrow to your brow that he didn't quite understand, but he didn't like it.

"Is everything alright?" He forwardly asked. "I mean, I don't usually see you down here and ... you look upset."

You looked down at your hands, silently clenching and unclenching your newly-dressed fingers. "I'm alright," you muttered distantly. "Just needed to let off some steam."

It pained Beel as you continued fiddling with your fingers and avoiding his eyes, but he didn't push. He reached forward and squeezed your shoulder. "If you want to start working out with me, or get into your own routine, I can help you out if you'd like."

You paused before nodding your head. "That'd be nice," you smiled gently at him. "Thanks."

He grinned, letting his hand drop to his side as he began to put back his medical supplies. "No problem. What is it that you're wanting to work on, anyways?"

A glint of something so grimly intense and horrifically unfamiliar flickered through your eyes. "Kickboxing and weight training," you flashed him a strangely sharp grin and goosebumps formed on the back of his neck. "Have to be able to defend myself, you know?"

Beelzebub couldn't help but frown at the words. He took a step closer to you. "You ... You know that we'll protect you. Right? You're safe with us, MC."

Something in his words caused you to shudder as you glanced down at your hands. "But not all the time," you mumbled in reply. Before Beel had a chance to question you, you shook your head and began to leave the room. "I'll meet you back here tomorrow. See ya."

And that was that. Only it wasn't.

You were jumpier, more an edge than normal. If the brothers tried asking about it, you should brush them off and insist that you were fine.

Belphie wasn't so sure.

Only two days after the gym incident, Belphegor had begun to find you walking around the house late into the night. There didn't seem to be any specific intent or purpose to your midnight brigades — just senseless drifting from room to room.

The one night he hadn't found you walking around, he came across a different problem entirely.

Your shrill scream pierced the air, and Belphie ran faster than he had thought was possible.

He burst into the room, panting, to find you wrestling with your blankets, screams and shouts continuing to pour from your lips and your eyes squeezed tightly shut.

Belphie cursed under his breath and rushed over to you. "MC! MC! Calm down. You're having a nightmare," he grabbed onto your shoulder, but quickly reeled back as your screams and thrashing only grew. "Shit," he breathed as panic flooded his heart. He felt sweat line his palms as he gently placed a hand over his pact mark on the back of his neck and felt it grow warm. The demon squeezed his eyes shut, channeling his energies of sloth through the symbol. "MC. Wake up"

Your eyes snapped open as a terrified gasp was ripped from your lungs and shot out of your bed. "Stop it!" You shouted in sleep-riddled-hysteria before you finally began to recognize your surroundings.

Your shoulders hunched as you curled in on yourself and ran a hand through your hair.

Belphegor swallowed thickly before ever-so-slowly approaching you. "MC are you-"

"Get out," you choked.

Belphie's heart clenched in his chest. "W-What?"

"Just-" a sob slipped from you as your grip tightened on your hair. "I need to be alone. Please. Just get out!"

The demon shakily nodded, beginning to take steps backward toward the door. "If ... If that's what you wish. I'll be in my room if you want to talk."

You responded with a barely noticeable nod.

Belphegor waited outside your room for several minutes. He had expected to hear cries, or whimpers, or even screams.

But all he got was silence.

A week of more sleepless nights and forcing Belphegor out of your room later, you had confronted Mammon.

The white-haired demon stood in the corner of your room with a deep frown as you began drilling a strange contraption to your window. "And what exactly is this meant to do again?"

"It'll make sure that no one can sneak in through the window," you mumbled, fiddling with the device a little more. "Not only will it lock it, but it's also sounded with an alarm that will go off if anyone manages to break the lock."

Mammon pursed his lips in thought. "But you're on the third floor?"

You scoffed, as though his argument was completely invalid. "As a demon with wings, you should know it's not impossible for someone to get up here," you stuck your head out the window and glanced down. "Even then, there's ivy all up this wall. ... Hey, can I have your help removing that after we finish this?"

Mammon narrowed his eyes in suspicion as he felt his heart sink at the slight tremble in your voice. "Oi. What's all this about? Is someone threatenin' ya or somethin'? Do I need to give someone a beat down?"

"NO!" Mammon flinched back as you practically screamed in his face. You both stared at each other for a moment with wide, frightened eyes.

You winced as you quickly took a step back. "I-I mean no. I'm just-" you groaned and glanced back over at the device. "It's nothing. I can do this on my own. You can go back to what ever you were doing."

Mammon clicked his tongue and stubbornly sat down on your bed. "Like hell I am! You've been actin' all weird lately and you've got circles under your eyes darker than Lucifer's! What's wrong?"

You glared at the demon before silently turning back and continuing to fiddle with the device. After a single minute of silence, Mammon let out a loud groan. "Come oooooon! You can't just give me the silent treatment and expect me to drop this!"

He didn't get an answer in response.

With a heavy sigh he finally got back to his feet. "You don't want to talk? Fine. But this isn't done. We will be talking about this later."

That conversation never did happen, and after everything that went down, Mammon regretted that more than anything else.

With all the things that had been happening at that time, it was a shock to everyone when you eventually approached Leviathan and asked if he wanted to go to an arcade.

The question shocked and flustered the demon (mostly because it sounded an AWFUL lot like a date, and he wasn't sure if he should dress up or just go normally) but he agreed none the less.

It's how he found himself standing slightly behind you with his jaw dropped as you took out zombie after zombie with a plastic arcade rifle and a cold, ruthless glaze to your eyes.

"Fucking hell," Leviathan swore as your name appeared at the top of the scoring chart. "How the hell are you this good at shooter games?!"

You flushed as you glanced down at the toy gun in your hands. "I don't know. Just ... did it."

Leviathan laughed as a slew of tickets came pouring out of the machine. "Well you're a freaking natural! Damn MC! You could seriously take someone out with that aim!"

You tensed at the comment, your eyes freezing on him with an intensity he had only ever seen in the ghosts haunting the Devildom. "You really think so?"

He chuckled and slipped a couple more coins into the machine. "Don't take my word for it. Go again."

And you did. Again, and again, and again. With each round your gaze grew less cold and more determined. Each round your score only grew more and more.

Eventually, Leviathan dragged you away from it (and no, it was not because he was jealous of the stupid game getting all your attention) to play something more multiplayer like Dance Dance Ruri Tunes, but you weren't there. Not mentally anyways.

Your mind was somewhere else along with the delighted grin on your face.

Satan recognized exactly what expression Leviathan was talking about when he described it in court.

Levi had used the word "distant," but Satan preferred the word "crazed."

It was one that he was no stranger to. He had seen it a number of times on himself whenever his brothers got shots of him setting up his pranks against Lucifer.

He had never expected to see it on you. Especially not when you were simply reading in the library.

He personally had gone in to do some reading on insomnia remedies for humans to help you with the nighttime issues that Belphegor said you'd been having, when he spotted you.

You were sitting at the table, smiling to yourself as you drank a cup of tea, scribbled down some notes, and read from your book.

In normal circumstances, there would be nothing wrong with the situation. If anything, Satan would've encouraged it and joined you to bask silently in each other's company.

But you were reading Demon Abilities and Weaknesses.

A book that he knew was not on your RAD curriculum. A book that he never expected you to have an interest in.

He tilted his head as he stalked over and quietly sat down beside you. You spared him a glance and nodded at him, before continuing your studies.

"Curious book?" He questioned gesturing to the text. You hummed thoughtfully. "Any particular reason for reading it?"

You scribbled down a couple more things before looking at him. "Like you said. It's a curious book," you leaned forward. "Did you know that despite what common human lore says, Holy water doesn't actually kill a demon? It just temporarily paralyzes it," you chuckled and shook your head as you looked fondly back down at the book in your hands. "It's fascinating what humans have gotten so so wrong about you guys."

Satan nodded in agreement and leaned forward onto his elbows. "Yes. Humans have remarkable imaginations and quite an interest in wrongly interpreting us."

You hummed in thought as you starred at the book in front of you. "Do people ever end up here by accident?"

Satan blinked at the question, his mind momentarily stalled by its suddenness. "Diavolo tries to avoid it, but I imagine it does happen from time to time."

"What about those who are purposefully brought here? The ones who were t-terrible awful people in their real lives?"

Your heavy stare was now fixed directly onto him and was unwavering. Satan felt chills run down his spine at the sheer desperation in your voice.

He would later testify that, in this moment, he wrongly thought he had figured out what had been bothering you.

"You aren't damned, MC," tears lined your eyes at his answer as he placed a hand over your trembling grasp. "When your time comes, I think you'll be one of the unique few who get a choice on where you go. Regardless, you'll be okay. We'll make sure of it."

You silently shook your head, and Satan took it as a sign to pull you into his arms and hold you. For the first time in a month, you broke down and began sobbing. The demon said nothing as your ugly, loud cries shook your frame and your tears soaked through his jacket. He just held you, allowed you to embrace your vulnerability.

Eventually you sniffled, and pulled away looking at the book once more. "Satan," you mumbled hoarsly. "There are bad people down here."

He chuckled and ruffled your hair. "Yes. It is Hell. But those insufferable twits are meant for nothing more than be slaughtered and put in their place over and over again. Rest assured that you aren't one of them. You're safe here."

Your lips pulled into a thin line as you scooped up the book and put it in your bag. "Thanks Satan. You've given me a lot to think about," you didn't say another word before taking your leave, leaving the demon alone and concerned.

Asmodeus had heard about your meeting with Satan from the demon himself and knew that he just had to do something to cheer you up. Clearly, the best way to do that was a shopping.

Still, he was surprised when you agreed so easily.

The strawberry blond happily thumbed through a clothing rack beside you. "See?" He chirped excitedly. "Isn't this just what the doctor ordered? A nice relaxing day out with your favourite and handsomest of pact holders!"

You made a small noise of agreement as you pulled a black turtleneck from the rack and stretched the fabric a little.

Asmo cooed as he perched himself onto your shoulder. "Oh! Very chic. It'll be good for layering in these dreadful temperatures," he warily watched as you added the shirt to your growing pile of black fabric. "Though, might I recommend a little more colour, darling? You'd look radiant in a deep magenta."

You snorted and poked his cheek. "You're just saying that because pink is your designated colour."

The demon giggled and kissed your cheek in return. "So what if I am? It's hardly my fault that I have the best colour of all."

You shook your head in amusement. "Well thank you for the recommendation, but I'm aiming for a different look."

He picked up the black cargo pants you had deposited into your basket. "Ah. Is this an upcoming emo or punk phase? I suppose it makes sense."

You raised an eyebrow at the demon. "What do you mean?"

Asmodeus carefully threaded his next words together at the edge in your tone. "I just mean you seem to be doing a lot of reflection lately. Which isn't always bad, but ... You've been really quiet and distant. I miss being able to go out and just chit chat like old times with you."

You went silent as you fiddled with a pair of gloves you'd found. "I ... I've had some bad memories resurface lately. It's affecting me more than I thought. But don't worry," you smiled softly at the demon, oblivious of the nervous glint in your eyes, "I'm taking care of it."

The demon hummed and nuzzled against you. "So long as you're happy. I miss that wonderful smile of yours," he finally unlatched himself from you as he dragged you toward the cash register. "Now come on. I want to pamper you with some proper skin care products. You seem like you could use it."

You chuckled, squeezing lightly onto the demon's hand. "Okay, okay. But only if we can stop at the general store. I need to pick up a few things."

During all of this, Lucifer was taking notes.

Every interaction reported to him, every oddity that he noticed, he wrote it all down. He didn't know then just how helpful his notes would be — he only knew that something was wrong with you and he was determined to figure out what.

The night before the incident, his concern reached a climax.

He just returned from a tediously long meeting at Diavolo's castle and went to his office to complete his notes and paperwork regarding said meeting.

But when he got there, he wasn't alone.

You hadn't heard him enter. You couldn't have — Not with the way you were muttering to yourself as you dug through the chest behind his desk.

He cleared his throat, crossing his arms over his heavily beathing heart.

Your yelp echoed through the office as you whipped around.

"I don't believe this is your room, nor do I think you can find your bed in my private belongings.

You gulped and nodded. "Right. Yes. S-Sorry. I-I'll go."

He sighed as you tried to scurry past him and planted a heavy hand on your shoulder. Conflicting guilt coursed through him as you scrambled back from his touch. "MC. Sit down," he instructed.

He glided across the room, taking his place behind his desk, but you remained frozen. "I-I'd prefer to stand, th-thank you."

Lucifer's headache pulsed as he narrowed his eyes at you. "I've been informed that you've displayed some worrisome habits. You haven't been sleeping. You've been overworking yourself to the point of injury at the gym. You're questioning your place and security in the Devildom," your eyes darted to your hands as he called you out. "Why?"

You were tense, practically a rock with how rigid and stiff you were. But, both he and you knew that you would not be leaving without an answer.

"I can't tell you," you reluctantly replied.

"Can't or won't?" he countered.

You shook your head as your arms moved to wrap around yourself. "A mix of both, I-I guess."

Lucifer nodded and wished, not for the first time, that he possessed the ability to read your mind. "Asmodeus mentioned you've had some harmful memories resurface lately. Does that have something to do with it?"

"It has everything to do with it," you choked as your fingers dug into your flesh. Lucifer allowed himself to hope that maybe you would finally reveal the truth that he'd been chasing. "I thought it was over. It should have been over. I survived. I didn't have to be afraid anymore. But I was wrong. It'll never end."

Lucifer's heart clenched. He longed to comfort you, to hold you and personally reassure your safety, but he needed to remain firm. It would do him no good to soften his resolve just to lose grip on the cause of all of this.

"What will never end? What has you so afraid?"

You squeezed your eyes shut as you shook your head. "I c-can't. I can't tell you. Please."

He hated how weak towards your pleas he had become. "Fine," he relented. "Then why were you here? What were you trying to take that you felt you couldn't ask for?"

Your eyes shifted to the chest behind him. "I ..." your jaw clenched and unclenched with unspoken confessions.

"You're not in trouble. I'm not angry. I'm confused. What were you looking for?"

You swallowed thickly as your eyes darted everywhere but at the demon in front of you. "The Morning Star Blade."

His eyes widened and lips parted as he felt time halt. "MC," he breathed. "Do you know the properties of that weapon?"

"I do," you whispered surely.

"Then you know how dangerous it is. It has the capabilities of permanently erasing the existence of any creature it is embedded into."

"I know," you whimpered this time as tears lined your eyes. "I-I just. ... I need it. I'm so so scared, but with that blade nothing could harm me and-"

Lucifer didn't let you say another word before he wrapped you in his embrace. For once, he felt himself tremble with vulnerability as he held you tightly against himself. "I don't know what it is that has made you so distressed you would act so extremely, but I assure you there's no need. You're not alone, MC. My brothers and I will protect you and defend you until our dying breath. You have our seals on your skin to prove it," he pressed a gentle kiss to the top of your head before pulling away. He walked back over to his desk and pulled a small white bottle from the top drawer. "This is Holy Water. Blessed by Simeon himself. If you know about the dagger, I imagine you know what this can do," he held the bottle out to you. "Take it. Let provide to you the remaining comfort that I cannot provide."

You stared at the water as though it held the key to all your problems. With shaking hands, you grabbed it and carefully brought it to your chest. "Thank you," you breathed.

Lucifer nodded. "You're welcome. Come. We'll get you some tea to help calm you before you go to bed."

And that had been it. Lucifer was convinced the issue was resolved and that in a few days time you would come to them, newly rested, and explain everything.

He had been so very wrong.

The following day, at 3 a.m. the brothers had all been suddenly pulled from their sleep and summoned to a place none of them had recognized in the freezing pouring rain.

"Fuck!" Mammon shouted as he bellyflopped onto the ground. "For fuck's sake! What the hell is goin'-" he froze as his eyes fell to the figure standing in the darkness. "MC?"

There you stood, drenched, clothed in the black wardrobe you had bought with Asmodeus. A bottle of Holy Water was clenched tightly in one hand as a dagger quivered in the other. Your bottom lip trembled as horror and uncertainty battled in your eyes.

Those very same eyes fixed onto the brothers as you held out the weapons. "Take them. Quick. J-Just get them away from me."

Lucifer frowned deeply at the sight of the familiar bottle. "MC. What is this abou-"

"JUST TAKE THEM!" You screamed as sobs threatened to break through your voice. "Before I- ... He's down here and I was going to-"

Belphegor moved first, snatching the weapons from you just as you collapsed onto the ground.

Asmodeus quickly scooped you off of the cold wet earth. You were speaking words, but they were too jumbled and distraught for any of them to understand.

Beel quickly ripped off the sweater he hand been sleeping in and wrapped you in it. "It's alright MC," he soothed. "You're safe. No one's going to hurt you."

"It's not me being hurt I'm worried about," you cried. "It's me hurting him! Don't you get it?! I was going to kill him!"

A jolt ran through the brothers at the sheer idea of you even considering murder. Asmodeus held you tighter to his chest.

The dots began to connect in Satan's head, but he still had too may questions. "Kill who?" he pressed softly.

"M-My ex," you choked as you gripped desperately onto Asmodeus's silk pajamas. "I saw him. He's down here. He was j-j-just walking around when we went to the museum t-two months ago. As though n-nothing ever happened a-and I couldn't-" tears poured heavily down your cheeks. "I couldn't stand it. I-I'm not safe. Not with him here. Wh-What if he knows I'm with you and- and- and-"

Asmodeus gently soothed you before you could throw yourself further into your hysteria.

Belphegor felt a familiar coldness drip down his spine as he looked down at the dagger in his hand. "And this ex ... He hurt you?"

You shivered as you nodded. "He ... It was just verbal at first. Insults. Names. Jealousy. B-But then he started to lash out. One night, he went too far. The p-paramedics said I should've been dead. He must have thought so too, cause they found his dead body beside my unconscious one."

"Gods and Devils," Leviathan breathed. "No wonder he ended up down here. He fucking deserves it and worse!"

Your lip trembled as Asmodeus carefully took your clenching hands into his own and gently caressed them. "I didn't feel safe knowing he was here, that he could come find me any moment. A-And the only solution I could think of was- was to-"

"-Was to take his life before he could take yours," Lucifer finished.

"Shit," Mammon swore, moving over to Asmodeus's side. "Is this what you've been stressing out about lately?"

You took in a shaky breath as you nodded. "I was so torn. I didn't want to drop to his level. I didn't want to be evil like him. B-But I-I didn't know what else I could do!"

"I'll tell you what we're going to do," Satan spoke through gritted teeth. "We are going to bring the issue to Diavolo. Demons like him are supposed to be in a certain place in the Devildom. Sentenced to eternal punishment. Not flaunting about."

Lucifer hummed in agreement. "We'll take him to trial, and make sure he never tastes freedom again."

You couldn't help but cry at the words. A trial. Justice. Something you had never been given in human world.

The brothers said nothing. They merely gathered around and held you, whispering reassurances and promises.

They kept you under close watch for a while, never leaving you alone or allowing you to fester in your dark memories for too long. When the trial came, they stood by your said for every second of it and defended your name with all the ire of Hell.

You watched as the being who ruined your life was found guilty. You watched as he was dragged down to the pits of the Devildom.

You cried, and mourned, and grieved.

But you didn't do it alone.

*** OOF that was a big one. Thank you all so much for reading this. Happy Spooky Month, and remember to take care of yourselves. I love you all so much and thank you for the never ending support you all give me. Cheers -B***

TAGLIST:

@thegrimgrinningghost @henry-and-the-seven-lords @satans-beloved-riv @cosmixbun @sufzku @obey-mes-treasure @kissed-by-a-dementor @yukihaie @justtiarra @mammoneybb @poly-bi-mf @burrixino @salvationprodigy @pumpkins-mainside-blog @acousticpen @sucker-for-angst-and-fluff @itskrispy @10paradox10 @vallison-rea @ivoryclive @newfangled-artistry @pumpkinpatchkid @chirikoheina @sailboat21 @theother4 @todoroses @circus-of-freaks @mcx7demonbros @bloopthebat

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tyxoxo · 1 year

Text

One Night Only - VI.

ch.5, m.list

Jeno x fem!reader series

Genre: slow burn, fuckboy!jeno, enemies to lovers/hate fucking fwb! bookstore jeno → model jeno au, 00’ dream + mark + jun (seventeen) character inserts

Words: 2.2k

Warnings: pure filth, jeno is mean, cocky, stubborn, this relationship is extremely toxic (i dont condone, this is pure fiction), phone sex, degrading, envy, mdni!

tagging: @sukistrawberry @mingiandbaconjam @baecobies @produmads

a/n: if you’ve gotten this far to reading, i applaud you. i started this series back in september and i’m still writing ಠ_ಠ

Chapter 6

You took a long pause, contemplating an explosive, and sarcastic response.

“What do you want? Don’t you have more important things to be worried about? Like making sure you don’t fuck up your modeling offer?”

Somehow, you didn’t stutter. But there was still a hint of timidness in your voice.

“It’s almost midnight. Do you really think I want to be doing that right now? Why do you think I called?”

You tried to ignore the shuffling sounds in the background, presumably from him shifting in his bed. And based on the temptation behind his arrogant question, you tried your hardest not to imagine anything impure.

Sadly, he did have a point. Who would want to be doing anything productive or work related at this hour. But then again, why did he call you?

“I don’t know, why did you?”

You slammed your eyes shut, making the darkness swell around you even more in your bedroom.

A hefty sigh fell from his lips, as if he was fed up with your lack of perception.

You knew why, you just wanted to hear it from him first.

And if this phone call turned into anything unconventional like you secretly hoped and imagined,

you would happily accept it.

“Fuck it. Nevermind.” His curt response almost made you hang up. But on the other hand, you wanted to confront him. After he ended the call with Renjun so abruptly yesterday, you were egocentric enough to think it was because you were there.

That had to be the case.

“You’re always so difficult.” You sighed in between, rubbing your eyes as if that would ease your frustration.

“You’re not the first or last person to think so. But I will ask, why haven’t you hung up yet?”

“Exactly…” He continued so matter-of-factly, not even giving you a chance to respond.

“I was calling because I’m fucking horny. But I think you just ruined my boner.”

To you, it sounded like he was trying to hold in a laugh.

Was he touching himself before even calling?

“Don’t expect me to drop everything just so you can rub one out.” You had definitely made the right assumption.

“So, does this mean no thank you for fucking your brains out? I’d like to think I did a damn good job.”

“You did okay.”

You were lying through your teeth. But he deserved the slander.

“Okay is all I get?”

“Do you think you could do better?”

You challenged him.

“Hell yeah I could. Make you cock drunk like the pathetic slut you are.”

The call took a turn in mere seconds. He was shameless, to no surprise. But his words made you rub your thighs together, almost involuntarily.

Still, you didn’t have any second thoughts on reciprocating his energy.

“Well in that case, I won’t thank you, until you actually show me again.”

“Excuse me?” He was taken back by your brazen attitude, or at least you thought so.

“Actions speak louder than words. Plus, my fingers work just fine.”

You desperately wanted to piss him off.

“Fuck you.” He snapped back, but it still wasn’t enough.

“Entertain me then.” You adjusted your position in bed, falling back on your pillow.

“You’re only this ballsy because you’re tucked behind your phone. I would love to shut you up…make you choke on my cum ‘til you fucking drown.”

You gulped down the huge lump in your throat; body temperature rising, and your core growing wetter by the minute. He kept getting dirtier, and dirtier.

And he was so close to making you touch yourself.

“Now you’re quiet? Hmm? Thinking about all the ways I could make you pass out?”

There was too much for you to process. He had just fucked you the night before, but you were already wishing he was inside you again.

“Ruin me.” You couldn’t help but let your words drift into a moan. Your hand trailed everywhere on your body, imagining they were his. All the while, you held up your phone with the other, wishing it wasn’t so clammy to have a better grip.

“You miss my cock. Mmmh. How I destroyed your little pussy?” His voice was bold, just like when he was inside you. You could faintly hear the sound of him spreading something, what you pictured to be his precum lubricating his dick.

Images of his shiny essence leaking from his tip made you tug at your nipples hard. To the point that you winced, loving the sting.

“Fuck…” Was all you could muster. You were completely defeated.

“I didn’t hear you?”

“I miss your cock so fucking much.” Your hand continued its descent, meeting your pulsing clit. You didn’t waste any time, knowing he was already busy working himself too, based on his accelerated breathing.

“You don’t even know how much I’ve thought about you since then. You’re so perfect for me to use...”

You whimpered, feeling such satisfaction for his disregard of your entire existence.

This was everything you wanted.

If only he was here on top of you now, pounding into you until all you thought about was your next release.

No other purpose in this world than to be a cum dump for him.

“I need you…just break me. Fuck me dumb.”

You were barely making sense. Words jumbled, paired with your filthy actions brought all the more truth to the effect Jeno had on you.

But you knew he loved it.

With every hum that left his lips, you sped up the circular motions on your aroused clit.

You were sure that he could hear your slick as you decided to add a finger, pumping yourself at the same speed as him.

“Shit…you’re drenched aren’t you? Just for me?”

“All for you. Always for you.”

“Fuckk…I want it.”

If only you could see that he was grinding into his hand, squeezing his shaft with such determination to get off.

“It’s a shame I'm getting close. Mmmh—would love to stuff your pussy full of my cum.”

His voice was shaky, but with just as much authority. It was enough to make you feel on the verge of collapsing.

“Fill me up, please. Ahh, i’m getting close.”

It didn’t help that he wore a condom the first time. Ever since then, you’ve fantasized about what it would feel like to take him raw.

“You better cum first. Do it, bitch.”

How was it that his competitiveness was enough to ignite your release.

With one final pump of your finger and flick of your clit, you came undone; shaking so much that you let your phone slip out of your hands and onto the pillow. Yet, Jeno was grunting loud enough for you to still hear without ever being on speaker.

There was no way Renjun wouldn’t be able to hear him.

The silken sounds of beating himself to orgasm was too much to bear. You continued into overstimulation as you heard him let out a string of curse words.

He kept pumping himself, emptying all of his seed onto his bare chest.

Both of you matched the same speed of breathing, slowly coming down from your high in silence.

“What a waste…”

You’re only guess to his statement was that it was unfortunate you weren’t there to clean him up.

Which you gladly would’ve done.

It took a few minutes before either of you could regain focus. But you were surprised that he didn’t hang up and continue on with his lack of sincerity.

“Why don’t you and me ditch work together?”

“Uhm, I have a clean attendance record. I don't want to screw that up.”

“I do too. Mark likes you, you’ll be fine.”

“Where exactly?”

“I haven’t gotten that far yet. Just come over to my place first after Renjun leaves. I’ll send you my address.”

“Fine.”

You decided to end the call first, not that it held as much weight as what he did to you earlier.

In no way shape or form was last night a blur. It was still fresh in your mind, from the moment you slept until you woke up the next day.

You could use the morning to recoup, and come to terms with the fact that Jeno’s entire being consumed you.

10:20am

[you]: hey, probably should’ve given you more of a heads up but i won’t be able to come in today. i should be back tomorrow!

[mark]: no worries, see you tomorrow! 👍🏼

You did your morning routine, and sat on the couch in your living room, waiting for the right time to leave.

10:30am

[jeno]: he’s gone, head my way.

Other than the address he sent you, this was the only text he’s ever sent.

How flattering.

You left him on read and made way to your front door, putting on your shoes and exiting your apartment.

As you boarded the subway to Itaewon, you began to wonder if Renjun put two and two together last night. Not only from the disturbance of your phone call with Jeno, but also the fact you and him both “called in.”

If anything, Jeno wouldn’t be scared to admit that he was having sexual relations with you. But you hoped that if the truth came out, that Renjun wouldn’t ditch you as a friend.

You shook your head loose of worrisome thoughts as you exited the busy train.

It wasn’t often you ventured to Itaewon, but knowing you were going to Jeno and Renjun’s shared flat made you somewhat nervous.

You didn’t bother sending a text stating you were on your way up. The less dry texting, the better.

Their apartment was average, similar to yours, the only difference is that all the rooms were accessed from the outside, versus yours that had an extensive lobby and condominium style design.

*knock knock*

You heard a violent sneeze from the other side of the front door followed by the sound of the unlock.

Jeno swung the door open, scrunching his nose from the aftermath of his sneeze.

He was only dressed in a muscle tank top, basketball shorts and Nike socks, to which he matched your leisure style.

“Hey.” He said dryly, with a hint of his morning voice still there.

“Hi.” You brushed past him inside to take off your shoes, studying the look of his apartment.

Not as messy as you thought but comfortably lived-in.

“Do you think Renjun knows?” You said with your back turned, heading towards the living room couch.

“Probably. He’s a light sleeper.” You could sense the smirk on his face, as if this was a light-hearted matter.

“Great.” You plopped on the couch, thinking he would join you, but he went into the kitchen to cook?

“I didn’t want you over here to ruin the mood. Just sit and relax. Do you want brunch?”

“Uhhh, sure.” You tone of voice definitely gave way that you had no faith in his cooking skills-

“I already know what you’re thinking. But I can manage.”

“Okayy, if you say so chef.”

He chuckled at your teasing, which was rather pleasant when he wasn’t being a dick.

“So after we eat, then what?” You spoke loudly to combat the clacking of dishes and ticking of the gas stove coming to life.

“Still haven’t gotten that far yet. But maybe you could look up places for us to go.”

Before you grabbed your phone to search for places, your attention was frozen at his outstretched arms as he reached for spices in the upper counter.

The way his veins branched out in every direction, paired so well with his long fingers. And how often he had to shake his head to move his messy bangs out of his eyes made you tug at your lips.

It only took him 15-minutes to whip up a savory meal. He put both of your plates on trays and carried them to the living where you sat watching cartoons on the tv.

“Thanks. It actually looks edible.” You said as you rested the tray on your lap.

He shook his head with a grin as he joined you at your side with the tray on his lap. You both began to dig in.

“So what all did you find?” He said after swallowing his first bite.

“We can either do thrifting at the flea market, cycling at the park or the mall. That’s all I got.”

“Hmm…Let’s do the flea market.”

To say you weren’t a spaz was an understatement, but you hid it well.

The two of you were currently boarding the train to Jung-gu. It was crowded beyond belief, maybe because it was lunch time.

You and Jeno were squished right next to the doors, with no seats available. He stood behind you, trying to make as much room for the two of you as possible.

It was uncomfortable to say the least, and you tapped your foot to ease your claustrophobia.

Your entire body froze when you felt Jeno place his hand around your waist and lower his face to nuzzle in your neck, his nose making contact with your racing pulse; occasionally raising up to let his lips graze against your ear. The warmth from his cat-like behavior eased your anxiety, causing you to lean back into his light embrace.

What are we?

#nct dream fanfic #nct dream fanfiction #jeno x reader #jeno x you #jeno smut #nct dream x reader #feedback is appreciated <3

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