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[cosmorugs]

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[rainrot4me]

Let Me Hear You

Summary: Walking the same path every day while listening to music is your routine. Humming along, Masky makes it his routine to follow you. Until you wander somewhere you shouldn’t…

Characters: Masky x Female Reader

SMUT WARNING MINORS DNI

TW: Stalking, following, non-con, fingering, forceful, vaginal, fucking against a tree, Masky's nasty, taking advantage, uncontrollable, struggling, you don't give consent/Masky just takes what he wants, choking

Words: 4.2k

You walked this path every day. 

After every shift of work, every weekend, rain or shine you would slip your shoes on and take that dirt path through the woods. The path used to be an old horse trail used by the previous owners of the land, the dirt dry and matted down for miles. The forest surrounding the path was dense, sunlight rarely slipping through the leaves overhead and giving the lush area a nice, shaded feel. The area was thriving, nature untouched besides your constant walks, but you never dared press off the path out of fear of getting lost. Although the dirt made a giant winding loop back to your home, what lay in the middle made you too nervous to find out. 

You could usually complete your walk in under two hours, making your way back to the treeline connected to your backyard and safely back into your house. It was routine, so of course, when you got home from work well past nine PM, you slipped out of your uniform and into athletic clothes and a hoodie. Sliding your screen door open, you flicked your flashlight on, the moon hiding behind dense clouds and offering little light. But this was your comfort, if you didn’t have anything else, at least you would have these two hours to debrief and get at least some exercise in. Despite the cool summer air, you pressed through your ward and to the well-worn path you knew, disappearing into the trees.

What you didn’t know, or rather, what Masky didn’t want you to know, was that this path was also his daily routine. Not for walking, persay, but more for observation. His routine was to hang at the edge of that treeline whenever he wasn’t busy, waiting for your car to sling into your driveway and for you to come strolling out that screen door. You were oblivious to his presence, sauntering on that path as he quietly shifted behind the trees to watch you unwind the further you walked. In a way, it was his way of unwinding, giving himself something to focus on besides the constant pounding in his head. 

Now, he hadn’t sought you out through choice. It was a sort of coincidence that he began to watch you. 

Before you lived in that house, the previous owners were old, rarely trailing past the range of farmland and into the trees. So it made it simple. That widespread land in the center of the round path was a popular spot for the various members of Slender’s band of misfits to visit, hauling whatever recent kill they had made and burying them randomly, difficult to find. Seeing as it was land connected to the house, cops couldn’t just stroll through without some type of warrant, so it made it all the easier just to dump the bodies there and forget about them.

Until you moved in, curious little mind pulling you to the trees and investigating the trail. Masky was there that day, burying some boy, or what was left of him, just out of sight. He didn’t even realize you were there until your foot crunched on a branch, sending him grabbing for his pistol and aiming it through branches straight to your head. You had no clue, headphones lodged in your ears and playing some old songs, leaving you completely vulnerable. Masky was going to shoot, irritation guiding his movements at the thought of being seen. Until you started humming, tune familiar to some Fleetwood Mac song that stirred in the man’s brain, tugging at some long-forgotten memories that he knew were Tim’s. But instead of becoming angry, it was like his body was relaxing, gun slipping back into his jacket pocket and eyes trained sternly on you as you continued walking. 

It was laughable how unaware you were, even still as Masky followed that familiar path, watching you the same way he always had. He chalked it up to being a precautionary measure, watching to make sure you didn’t move further off the path than he wanted you to. But in reality, in the depths of his mind that he wouldn’t tell anyone, he just wanted to hear your voice. 

So, nudging your wired headphones into your ears, you shoved your phone into your pocket, shining your flashlight on the ground below as you walked. You kept the volume low, still able to hear your feet crunch on the weeds as you hummed lowly, swaying the light back and forth. Masky was to your right, hidden in the shadows of the branches as he walked in time with you, straining his ears to relish in your sweet voice. It was his guilty pleasure, getting to hear new and old songs that otherwise he wouldn’t. He recognized it as Name by Goo Goo Dolls, an older song he occasionally heard in bars and stores he passed. Tim was already stirring, pressing against the edges of his consciousness and skewing his thoughts, making the man reach for his cigarettes, popping one into his mouth and flicking the lighter. Masky had to put distance between you two now, wary of the smell of smoke alerting you, giving himself about fifteen yards of space but still keeping time with you.

You slipped your hair behind your ear, hands shoved into your hoodie pockets as you walked. The air was rather cool for a summer night, the clouds overhead making you wonder if there would be a storm tonight. Slipping your phone from your pocket, you flipped to a weather app, scrolling through and surprised by the pop-up showers happening within the hour. You'd have to speed up if you wanted to return home without getting soaked. 

So, shoving your phone back into your pocket, you held your flashlight tight, putting a little pep in your step. Masky was caught off guard, pushing his cigarette box back into his jacket and matching your pace, confused as to why you were hurrying now. He sucked the smoke into his lungs, the pounding in his head sizzling out. You had stopped humming, which irritated him, but he followed in the hopes that you would start again.

Minutes had passed and you recognized the path to be at about the halfway mark. You had an hour left, but the heavy clouds in the sky were already pushing down, thunder rumbling somewhere in the distance. Shit. You wouldn’t make it back in time. Stopping, you had to think, to weigh your options of running the rest of the way or cutting through. You had never been off the path, the entire unknown distance in between making you uneasy. But what could be in there that wasn’t just more trees? This land had been lived on and used, so you had nothing to be afraid of except the possibility of running into a deer. Taking a breath, you held your flashlight up, stepping off the dirt path and into the thick brush of the woods between. 

Masky immediately tensed, heart thumping as he saw you turn off the path and past the trees in the direction of your house. You were gonna cut through. The man had realized your hurry, the rolling storm clouds above telling him it wouldn’t be long until you were both soaked. But he never expected you to take a shortcut, pressing into the dark shadows of the trees and unfamiliar territory. This was bad. It wouldn’t be if he knew you would just pass through, mosy on to your home and out of the rain, but Masky knew better. You see, using that plot of land as a screwed-up burial plot was way too easy and convenient, and it led some creeps to become lazy. Toby was the worst, leaving chopped-up pieces of arms and torsos scattered against the earth, letting nature and curious animals take care of the rest. But that method left evidence, bones and rotted flesh scattered everywhere and easily noticeable. You would see them and become scared, calling the stupid cops and busting them all. He had to deter you. 

Hiking your legs over tall bushes and weeds, you push deeper in, trying your best to keep straight and search for your porch light. The wind was already blowing, leaves upturned and shaking against the breeze. Keeping your eyes trained on the ground, you began to hum again, Leave Out All the Rest by Linkin Park thumping in your eyes, keeping you distracted against the pants you were heaving. Your leisure walk had turned rough, getting more exercise in than you intended. Meanwhile, Masky was gritting his teeth, shoving through the trees as he pressed in front of you, wracking his brain for some way to throw you back onto the path. You were quick, Masky having to work to stay ahead of you and make sure you didn’t run into anything unsightly. 

Your humming was throwing him off, cigarette pressed tight between his lips as he tried to focus more on you instead of your pretty voice. The pre-storm breeze was picking up now, tall grass whipping against his legs and tangling themselves around his boots. Looking forward, he could see fresh dirt dug out into a pit, one of Toby’s lazy mishaps again. Masky didn’t have a choice, he’d have to confront you if he was gonna get you out of here. Swearing, he crossed your path, yards in front of you and shoved off his mask.

You smelled the smoke before you saw him, his lit cigarette wafting in your direction as the breeze blew. You looked up, flashlight shining ahead and barely catching the man mixed in with all the trees. Heart dropping, you stopped, music still pumping in your ears as you stared at the man across from you. In all of your time here, you had never seen a person in these woods. Especially during the night right before a storm. This was bad. Your breath was shaky, catching up from your quick movements but not getting a chance to settle as you began to panic. You didn’t have a weapon, you never needed one, that was a sore mistake now. The man didn’t move, just standing and watching, his build taller and larger than yours, able to easily overpower you. 

Moving slowly, you plucked the headphones from your ears, taking a step back as you shook. “Uhm… Hello..?” You called, voice shaky as the breeze whipped your hair in your face. The man had his hands shoved in his jacket pockets, puffing his cigarette in the breeze and making your nose furl, the scent sour. “Pretty late, huh?” His voice was rough, low and scratchy as he talked, plucking the cigarette from his mouth. You stepped back, nerves begging you to run but deciding it would probably be worse if you did. “Hah, uh, yeah. Just out for a- uhm, a walk. Cutting through so I don’t get rained on…” You laughed awkwardly, fidgeting the flashlight between your hands as you continued to step back slowly, trying not to draw his attention.

“Well, you outta be careful. Buncha fox traps out here. Could take your foot clean off.” He called, taking a step towards you and making your stomach turn, palms beginning to sweat. He flicked the cigarette between his fingers, ashes falling before he put it back in his mouth, puffing smoke. You glanced around the ground, feet suddenly nervous as you shuffled under yourself, hugging yourself tight. “O- Oh really? Didn’t know about that… uh, I’ll be careful. Just gotta make it home before it rains.” You went to turn, pushing for another path away from this strange dude. You noticed he didn’t have any form of light, standing in the darkness as he began to step towards you, panic surging. Stumbling back, you gripped your flashlight, willing yourself to hit him if it came down to it.

But instead, the man stopped in front of you, tossing his cigarette to the ground and stomping it, glancing at you. “Trust me. It’d be better if you just take the path. I can walk with you, make sure you don’t get rained on too bad.” He was pushing, pressing beside you and guiding you back towards the path, not giving you any choice but to follow beside him as he pressed his hand on your back. The rain had already begun to sprinkle through the leaves, cool mist running across the ground as you held your flashlight close, wary of the man as you walked next to him.

Finally seeing the dirt path again, his hand pushed you to follow it again, the familiar crunch of weeds comforting you against the panic you felt internally. The man’s hand never left your back, keeping you next to him as he walked quickly, moreso forcing you to go this way than advising you. You wanted to run, to throw the flashlight at him and get home but he was stern, the brunt look on his face stunning you. So you just kept walking.

Masky had no clue what he was doing. He only meant to scare you, push you in the opposite direction and disappear again. But when you didn’t run, just kept watching, he had no choice but to speak up. He opted to take the mask off, giving you good reason to leave but not scaring you so much you wouldn’t come back. He still wanted you to feel comfortable here, just not off that path. Obviously, that didn’t work. If your survival instincts wouldn’t help you, he would. 

Minutes passed in tense silence, flecks of water sprinkling onto your face and wetting your hair. His hand still pressed, your shoulders tense as you flicked nervously between the path and his face, the unwavering look making you uneasy. “So, uhm. Why’re you out here?” You shook out, filling the cold air as you felt his fingers tense, eyeing you slightly. He was quiet for a second, almost like he was contemplating. “Cleanin' up. Got some hunting equipment back there. Had to get it stable before the storm.” He looked away, continuing on.

Settling in, you let him guide you, figuring that if he tried anything, you would be close enough to neighbors to scream. If he was going to do anything, he would have done it where no one could hear. Either way, you knew after tonight you wouldn’t be walking back in these woods without a knife. The rain was coming down harder now, thick droplets landing on your cheeks and blurring your vision. Your hair was soaked, clothes sticking to your body as you walked, and chills running over you. “Almost there.” The man grunted, tugging at his jacket and pulling it closer to his chest, raindrops running down his face. Nodding, you hummed, slicking your hair back off of your face.

This walk was weird without music, and your routine became skewed. So you decided to hum, picking up where you left off of the Linkin Park song and hitting the notes softly. The man’s hand instantly tensed, fingers curling into your hoodie and catching you off guard, stunting your voice. “Sorry.” You mumbled, sniffling as your nose became stuffy against the cold. He huffed, flattening his hand out again. “It’s fine. Keep singing.” He huffed, gripping the back of your hoodie. Uncomfortable, you began to hum again, pressing the notes quietly as you walked. The man held your top tight, taking deep breaths as he listened to you, teeth gritted. 

Internally, Masky was fighting himself, using all of his willpower not to drag you back to your house and force better noises out. Maybe it was his deprivation, the loneliness from all this time, but he couldn’t stand how nice you sounded next to him. It was always from a distance, but right now, pressed by his side, it was like you were beckoning him. Like some fucked up siren. He huffed a breath, begging himself just to keep walking, just get you home. But as you hit a high note, throat straining against the sound, Masky's breath hitched, fist gripping onto your back. 

You paused, humming stiffled in your throat as you looked at him, feet planting beside his as you stopped. “Are you… alright?” You asked nervously, gripping his jacket sleeve and gazing into his stern face, eyes dark as they looked back at you. “[Y/N]...” 

“How do you…” You gasped, pulling back against his fist wrapped against the back of your hoodie. “You’re a real tease, you know that?” The man huffed, gripping your shoulders and shoving you backwards against a nearby tree, shoulder blades shoving into the bark as rain pelted down your cheeks. You shook your head, panic rising in your chest as you pushed back against his arms, his fingers gripping your shoulders tightly. “I don’t… What?” You huffed, tears pricking in your eyes as he grits his teeth, eyes roaming your body under him quickly.

“Of course you don’t. Coming out here every day just to tease. Practically begging me.” The man spat, pressing a knee between your legs and shoving your hips down, forcing a whine out of your throat. You had no clue what was happening, fingers gripping the fabric of his jacket as your hips forcefully ground down against his jeans. “Please… I don’t know what you want. If it’s money-” The man gripped your throat, pressing whines and gasps past your lips and holding you flush against the large tree behind you. “Can’t you see? I don’t want your fucking money, hun.” He grunted, pressing his body close and shoving his clothed bulge against your hip, gripping your hips tightly. 

You were still clueless, adrenaline pumping and kicking your brain into survival mode, too busy wondering if you would survive to realize the man’s intentions. Grunting, he gripped your cheeks, forcing you to look at him. “Listen to me very closely, [Y/N].” He spat, grinding his bulge against your hip, moving your hips along with his against his knee, making your eyes shoot down, cheeks growing hot. “I just wanna hear that voice. You can’t imagine how many days I listened to you humming and wanted to turn them into moans. You’re just so… addicting.” 

You couldn’t comprehend what you were hearing, your mind too muddled with the feeling of your clothed cunt throbbing against the man’s leg, his hands rough against your hips. “I don’t understand…” You grunted, pushing back against his shoulders as he leaned in, pressing his lips close to your ears.

“I need to fuck you, hun.” He mumbled, pressing a kiss against your ear as you gasped, flinching against him. Shoving a hand up your shirt, he pushed the cloth up, rubbing his rain-soaked hands against your warm skin. You didn’t know what to think, didn’t even know what to do. This guy overpowered you by a long shot, but as he pressed his hand into your shorts, you couldn’t hold back the whine that sounded. 

“Yeah, yeah, noises just like that, hun.” He smiled, pushing your shorts down to your thighs and groaning at the sight of your panties. Your clothes were soaked now, pressing uncomfortably against your skin as he pressed a finger against your clothed cunt, pushing his thumb between your folds and onto your clit. You gasped, gripping his arm tight as he watched, your eyes trained on his face and hand as they moved. “I don’t-”

“Just don’t hold back that voice, mkay? Let me hear you…” He sighed, shoving your panties down before you could stop him, rubbing his thick fingers between your folds. Slick collected against the digits, your body betraying your racing mind as you decided to give up, fighting obviously useless. 

Masky was electric, fingers moving faster than his mind could cooperate as he pressed against your clit, causing your body to stutter under him. Even if you didn’t know him, he knew you, and he knew that this was what you needed. Rain ran down his face, he rubbed his fingers against your cunt, pressing in and stretching. You couldn’t handle it, mind racing as he slowly fucked you open, body unsure of what it was even supposed to be doing. He shoved deeper, curling up into you until you were moaning out, fingers digging in. You gripped and held his forearm, too sensitive to take it as you spasm against his fingers, words getting caught in your throat. Masky relished in the way you gasped every time his palm hit your clit, fingers pumping up until you were gushing against him, arousal building. With every unforgiving pump of his fingers, you were losing your restraint, mind muddled under his grunts and thick fingers. 

“Can barely hold back, yeah? Go ahead, be as loud as you need to.” You were biting your lip, eyes screwed shut as you fought off your orgasm, refusing to give in to this eager man. Until he leaned in, licking against your neck and pressing his wet hair against your cheek. You shuddered, losing your resolve until you were clenching around his fingers, his palm shoved against your clit and rubbing your orgasm out, chuckling as you cried out, your resistance completely gone. 

He didn’t give you a moment, shoving your panties down to your knees and leaning up, unzipping his jeans. Stuttering, you whined, watching as his length sprung free and pressed against your abdomen. “What are you…” You gasped, vision blurry and goosebumps running against the throbbing still in your cunt. “I already told you, hun.” He hissed, pumping his cock with his wet hand before he was pulling your hips close, feet still planted but knees buckled. He pushed his cock down, pressing the tip against your lips, pushing forward until your lips were wrapping around him, clit spasming. You whined, the man angling your hips until your entrance pressed against the tip, your hands gripping his shoulders tight as he pulled you to him, pressing inside.

You gasped, his thick cock stretching you until you were gritting your teeth, his head nudging against your soft walls. “Don’t hold back, now…” He gasped, chuckling as he began to grind your hips down onto his length, your folds pressed against him with every deep thrust. You couldn’t handle it, stomach tightening with every tug and pushing gasps through your lips. No matter how badly you tried to keep quiet, you just couldn’t, the sensitivity dragging noises from you. He was ecstatic, every moan matching yours as he thrust faster, nails digging into your hips. He stared you in the eyes, dark gaze staring through you as you stared back, jaw hanging open. 

As if by instinct, fingers pressed into your mouth, shoving down into your throat until you were gagging, throat constricting around the digits. He was moaning, your lips wrapped tightly around his fingers as you sucked, your head becoming light due to the lack of oxygen. He would pull back slightly, giving you a moment before shoving his fingers back in, spit building against your lips. You couldn’t handle it, couldn’t comprehend anything but the intense pleasure of his thrusts, fingers muddling your mind. 

Before you knew it, you were clenching around his cock, clit straining against the pressure until you were crying out, choking on his fingers pressed knuckle-deep into your throat. “Fuck, hun…” He groaned, bottoming out against you and gripping your hips tight, relishing in the way your throat squeezed in time with your cunt. You were whining and grunting against him, eyes rolling back until you were coughing, cunt throbbing as spit ran down your chin.

Ripping his fingers from your mouth quickly, he slid your cunt off of his cock, throbbing hard as he fisted himself quickly, pressing the head against your abdomen. You gasped, heaving for breath as you watched, eyes heavy and face soaked with rain. He came against your skin, seed shooting against your stomach as he was rubbing the tip against you, cursing as he stared into your eyes. It was all too much, knees buckling against him as he gripped your waist tight, shoving your hoodie down and pulling your shorts up, your wetness soaking into the fabric. Your eyes lulled closed as he threw you over his shoulder, legs gripped tight as he began to walk through the trees, abandoning the path completely. But you were too delusional to think, mind too frayed to fight against him.

-

When you woke, you were in your bed, clothes still damp and hair still tangled. Cursing, you sat up, cunt sore as thunder roared outside, the hint of sunrise peeking against the trees. You tried to wrack your brain, tried to comprehend what had happened. But when you moved, feeling the crusted semen against your stomach, you decided a shower was the better option.

You still walked that path, just more cautiously now, carrying a knife in your hoodie every time. Cautious, you always made sure to stick to the path, unsure if the ‘fox traps’ existed or not, but not wanting to tempt it. 

You still had your headphones lodged in your ears, keeping the volume at a good level as you walked, making sure to hum just a little louder. Occasionally, catching a whiff of smoke.

This was an anonymous request!

Comments and reblogs are appreciated! 𐚁₊⊹

[propheticbride]

Lamb to Slaughter I

𐙚 Following Aegon's crowning of King, you attempt to settle into your new reality, with absolutely idea of what is happening around you. Your only company? The one eyed Prince himself.

𐙚 Aemond Targaryen x Reader (tw: manipulation, slight non-con, incest)

The nights following Aegon’s coronation were chaotic, whisperings of Rhaenyra’s claim lay about plainly as others argued the whore was not the rightful heir after all. Doors remained closed tight, no one talked too loud, servants kept to themselves. War was brewing, that was for certain.

You remembered the night your father died, your mother had snuck into your room and had gently woke you up. Cradled you as she gave you the news, you being the only Viserys doted on after Rhaenyra. And in some sick way, Alicent was sure you were her favorite too.

At first you did not comprehend how he was dead. He was not in good health, but to die so suddenly had left you confused.

‘My sweetling, he was not well. You saw. So weak, so poor in health.’ she spoke as she pet your hair.

Tears caked your face, hair matted to your skin, ‘I just don't understand.’

She sighed, ‘My poor girl.’

When Alicent had left that night, you had felt a void inside. Heartbroken and scared at the news. You found yourself in a familiar place, slipping out of your own chambers and into Aemonds. You wouldn't bother Aegon at that hour, him too drunk to even wake or want to comfort you. So instead you slipped into your more understanding brother’s space, the one who gently held you when you were scared and kissed you so gently.

But now, everyone's attention had been guided to Rhaenyra and her war. Everyone in the keep insisting she would come with fire and blood. And where you would seek Aegon’s affections, it would now be shunned upon. He was married after all, with two children and now king. He could no longer lie in bed and keep you entertained with his flea bottom stories.

✮⋆˙

“He's too busy now brother, too busy for me.” you complain, stitching at Aemond’s ripped attire. “He drinks a lot, I know this. But never stops by my chambers anymore. He must be so occupied with being king.”

Aemond doesn't reply, just makes an agreeing sound as his one eye watches you sew.

“How is Helaena? I know you two spend time together, she will not speak to me either. I wish she would, I get so lonely.”

“I talk to you.” Aemond reminds you.

You nod, giving him a gentle smile, “You’re always so good to me brother.”

His hand finds your arm, gently rubbing you to calm you.

“No one tells me anything. It’s…” tears form in your eyes.

“My love…”

“No!” you slam his arm away, getting up and begin to pace. “You are not to call me that! You are gone for days, on that beast you claim to be a dragon. Mother will not come visit me, Aegon has completely shunned me. Cole will not look at me and my dear sister will not speak to me. I am going insane in my room. Please. Please, what is happening?”

Aemond studies you for a moment, as if he were examining your outburst.

“I’ve never known you to yell. At all people, me.” he finally speaks.

It hurts you. The pain that settles in your chest after his words are enough to make you sick.

“I did not mean-” you return to him, placing your hand on his shoulder. “Please forgive me. I cannot stand if you are mad at me. I am losing my sanity. I'm so lonely.”

“Am I not enough to keep you happy?” he questions.

“I miss our mother, and our brother.” you admit. “When father was alive I wasn't so…lonely.”

“Because he kept you company.”

“I just want Aegon to visit again. Or mother. Or even Haelena. Please just ask them. Ser Kavvin does not let me leave ever. It’s like I am a prisoner.” it’s almost as if you were praying to the gods. Gentle and begging. Please please please.

Aemond is silent again, until he rises and kisses your head, “I’ll tell mother and brother to visit you my sweetling, it must be so awful for you to be cooped up in here, I am sorry Vhagar has my interests as of late. My priority has always been you.”

You beam at his words, the remembrance of your outburst a memory it seemed. Although the court was terrified of Aemond, you were not. Perhaps some of you was, but he was gentle and sweet to you, you almost had no reason to be scared. He took care of you, bringing you jewelry and new gowns, dining with you in place of your mother. He was the only human interaction you had gotten as of late, everyone else so preoccupied with Aegon.

“Is it?” you ask. Out of place, and you know it, but you cannot help yourself.

“I always thought we’d marry. Aegon had Haelena, but who has you, but me.” Aemond begins to cup your face. “I enjoy our time together, but there are matters I must attend to this afternoon. But don't worry, I will have mother or Aegon visit you.”

You struggle to understand his words, “What do you mean. Have me?”

He smiles and shakes his head, giving you a kiss on the lips before finding himself out of your chamber.

✮⋆˙

If anything Aemond does well, it's keep a promise. As he said, Alicent finds herself in your chambers a little after nightfall. She had maids run you a hot bath, your white hair gently slipping through her fingers as she brushed it.

“Why haven't you visited me?” you finally ask after too much silence.

“Aegon is being prepared to finally rule, I have been attending to it.” she says. “I am sorry, I haven't seen to you. I do feel bad.”

“Why must I be confined to my chambers.” you turn to her, violet eyes looking up at her.

“I do not trust…” she tries to collect her thoughts, not sure how to word it for you to understand best. “Aegon thinks it’s best if you are under protection. He thinks you might be a target for Rhaenyra’s anger.”

“Rhaenyra.” you say your sister’s name. “Rhaenyra is upset that father replaced her as heir?”

“Yes my sweet. She is upset that your father changed his mind about the succession. He decided he wanted Aegon on the throne after all.”

“I miss him.” you say after a while. “He was very sick…but he kept me company.”

“I am sorry, I am. I know it is no excuse but you must forgive and understand how daunting this has all been. So much has been done and needs to be done, the realm may be at war soon-”

“At war?” you interject, worry in your tone. “War? Why war?”

Alicent catches herself, she has slipped.

‘Do not mention the mess with Rhaenyra to her, I would not have her worry’ Aegon’s voice played in her head.

“No war my sweet, I only forget myself. I am sure Aegon will come to peace with Rhaenyra, and maybe she will even be seen back in the keep. You’d like that, right? I know you were fond of her son, Jacerys, I know you two were close.” Alicent goes back to braiding your hair, scared her words have put unrest in you. You did scare rather too easy.

“I don't want anyone at war.” you murmur.

“No war.” Alicent nods. “Aegon will be a good king, and make peace. I know it.”

✮⋆˙

If you were honest, you were close to Jacerys, spending time in the garden together and studying. Rhaenyra had taken a liking to you, mostly due to your shared father also taking a liking to you. You were not close with Lucerys, you did not know him well. You did not spend time with him nor were you very thoughtful towards him. No time truly spent between you.

So news of his death broke the in the red keep, you found yourself indifferent. No tears were shed, but your heart hurt for Jacerys.

Aemond had returned from dragon back, Aegon so delighted of his brother's victory, the murder of a child, that a feast was thrown. You were allowed in your finest green silk and finally allowed out of your chambers, where you sat among several counsel members and your family along with some court attendees. Aemond had been silent for most of the feast, ignoring the praise he had received, most of them insults for Rhaenyra. You watched him closely, hoping, begging he would make eye contact with you. But he did not.

For hours it went on like this, Aemond slowly sipping and eating at the feast presented in front of him, not truly present at the party that was all for him and his victory.

Aegon, ever drunk, was quite present. Too present.

“My sweet sister!” his voice calls, and you turn to him. “Where have you been hiding?”

“My chambers, on your ruling.” you murmur.

“My ruling? Why would I ever…” he hiccups and slams himself down in the chair beside you. “I have missed you soooo much. Your absence has been noted, why do you scorn me so?”

His words don't make sense to you. Your mother’s words and now his, dancing in your head. You hadn't noticed, not truly noticed, until you briefly look at him, that Aemond is staring at you. For the first time in the entire night, he simply stares. But his gaze is far from comforting.

“I’ve been in my chamber, lonely.” you admit, looking back at Aegon.

“Well…I have missed you my girl, so much. It's so lonely…” he whispers the next part, “my bed… has been rather lonely.”

Aemond stands, everyone quickly glancing at him. He excuses himself from the table, with Aegon’s hand on you all you truly can do is watch.

“He’s upset” you mention.

“Ah yes. He’s been so moody since that business with the dragons. Don't know why though. They're all traitors. I’ll have all of their heads.” Aegon smells like alcohol, a smell you’re familiar with but still sensitive to.

“Aegon!” your mother’s voice rings. “I do wish you would not speak of such things with her, you know better.”

Alicent attempts to pull Aegon up from beside you, but he is quick to shove her away. You stand, shocked at the whole ordeal.

“I think I will head to bed.” you insist.

“I think that would be best, sweetling.” Alicent nods.

When you enter your chambers, you don't notice Aemond at first. He's facing the bookshelf, one your late father filled with stories of old and history. The one thing you both bonded over.

When you do notice him, it’s when you're half naked, pulling your sleeping slip on.

“Your skin is always so beautiful.” his voice startles you.

“Aemond!” you jump, clinging to your fur blanket, attempting to cover yourself.

“I've seen you already, have you forgotten me already?” you're not sure if he's as drunk as your other brother was, but his voice is calm and almost soothing.

“You should be in bed, the hour is late and I know you are upset.” you try to reason with him, knowing that when he is upset he is easiest to get to.

“But you always grant me so much comfort.” Aemond steps towards you, allowing his hand to cup your face, thumb lining your lips. “Do you remember the night I lost my eye. I was in so much pain. And you found me, alerted the guards to me. And that night, before we left, you let me in your bed for the first time. And we laid there together in peace.”

You watch his face as he talks, there's always been a certain amount of devotion you showed Aemond. That night you had found your cousins and him, screaming at the top of your lungs that alerted the guards to the situation. And he was not wrong. That night Aemond had been restless, in pain over his lost eye. Where your mother usually slept beside you, she had taken a leave of absence from your bed that night, allowing Aemond to replace her.

“You were always so sweet to me, where they laughed, you had always welcomed me. For dolls, for tea…for anything. So gentle. So kind.” Aemond sounds breathless, like he was praying.

“Aemond-”

“Shhhhh.” he licks your closed lips, causing you to gasp.

Aemond was always strict with the affection he gave you; always keeping his hands to himself, always to be careful that your mother did not catch a glimpse of how hungrily he would stare at you. But never this brazen. You did not know what to make of it.

“Please.” you beg. “We can't-”

“Can't what. You have no husband, and I have no wife. This is right. We were born to be together.” Aemond presses his forehead towards you. “Ever since that night I lost my eye, and you welcomed me so warmly into your bed I have wanted you since. Why won't you let me take you?”

“We can't…Aegon…he-”

Aemond’s face twists in anger, “Don't mention him! Do not speak of him!”

The outburst scares you, taking a step back and clutching your fur tighter.

“Drop it.” his face changes, as does his voice. His entire demeanor shifts. He unclips his cloak from his armor, letting the fabric fall to your chamber floor. “I said…drop it”

You drop the fur immediately, standing there almost bare for him. He looks over body, with a hungry gaze and a curious eye. Your slip was a thin silk, something your mother would die if she ever found you dressed in. But the sun had been hot as of late, and her nightgowns were too heavy. The several slips had been a gift of Aemond, now you had known why.

“I have waited years for you. Years for you to come to your senses of what I am to you. What you are to me. I am sick of waiting my sweet, I need you now. And I will have you now.” Aemond’s hands gently pull your slip down, allowing your naked body to be in full view for him. “You’re mine. You always have been. I just need to prove it to you."

[mynahx3]

One Moment Was All It Took Part 2

Here’s the part 2 of Soulmate Gojo based off of @envy-of-the-apple HC !!! Prob gonna have like 6 parts ngl lolol Hope everyone enjoys, might be able to get part 3 out by Mon if my schedule remains open.  Warning this chapter has non con touching, drugging, kidnapping, fighting w/ mentions of blood!! If this disturbs you please don’t read Next part with prob be spicy Masterlist

A couple weeks  have passed since that cafe incident, and it completely slipped your mind—something you laughed about with your fiance when you got home that day. He wasn't very amused, but you brushed it off as just a strange encounter. Your mind was preoccupied with the upcoming wedding in the coming months. The colorful sticky notes with wedding tasks covered the calendar on your fridge, each one a reminder of the preparations ahead, and a sense of giddiness filled you whenever you glanced at the detailed schedule.

You sit perched on a stool in your cozy kitchen, meticulously reviewing wedding preparations on your laptop. Your eyes stung slightly as you read the screen, a frown evident on your face, longing for your fiance's presence to assist you. He had to attend a sudden business trip that took him out of the country.

It was good news, meaning his boss began to trust him with more responsibilities, but it also meant you were left to handle the wedding planning on your own for the time being. You were pleased to see him advancing in his career, yet you also felt somewhat overwhelmed by the additional responsibilities you had to manage.

After stretching, you stand up to take a break when the doorbell rings. Confusion overwhelms you as you approach the door, peering through the peephole to find nobody there. You open the door, keeping the chain attached as you look around. No one was there. While closing the door, you notice a vase filled with beautiful flowers on your welcome mat. A smile blooms on your face at the sight of the flowers, and you bring them into your apartment.

The flowers looked expensive in a beautiful crystal vase with a note attached to the neck of it, trimmed with gold. It reads, "Thinking of you always, even from afar. S." Your heart swells with warmth as you assume it was your fiance's thoughtful gesture. Pulling out your phone, you decide to call them and thank them for the surprise. The line rings for a few seconds before he answers, his voice happy and excited to hear from you. Noise in the background, likely from his busy office.

"Well, aren't you the romantic?" You say this, admiring the flowers sitting in front of you. A bright smile on your face as you hold your phone to your ear.

"What did I do this time?" He asked with a laugh, not understanding what you meant. You chuckle at his confusion, feeling even more grateful for his thoughtfulness.

"The flowers you sent, silly," you reply, feeling the softness of the petals on your fingertips. "Thank you, baby."

The line is silent—so silent that you think the phone dropped. Just as you were about to hang up and call back, he spoke.

"Honey… I didn't send you anything." Your smile fades at his words, your heart sinking as you wonder who could have possibly sent such a thoughtful gift.

"I'm… I'm sure the delivery person just got the wrong apartment." You shrug, looking around it to see if there was anything else written on the card—the only piece of paper on it.

Turning it over, your heart drops, and you see your name written in the golden ink with a heart next to it. You feel a shiver run down your spine at the implications, but you choose to keep it to yourself. Not wanting to ruin his mood and throw him off during such an important meeting.

"I'll just ask the front desk if anyone asks about them; I'd hate for whoever sent them to be mad that it went to the wrong person." You laugh as you crumble the card up in your hand.

"Now I feel bad I didn't get that idea." Your fiance' laughs, your nerves easing a little at the sound. "Promise I'll do something way better, sweet cheeks."

The corny nickname makes you laugh and roll your eyes. Since your high school days, he had always been cheesy and overly romantic, qualities you cherished. In the years that you supported one another, you both experienced a great deal. Despite the difficulties, you both emerged stronger after transitioning from broke college students to starting careers together in Japan. At times, he couldn't express his love in the most conventional ways, but his efforts were always genuine and appreciated.

"I got to go, babe. Another meeting is about to start." He sighed, his coworkers shouting his name over the phone. "I love you; I'll be home in a few weeks."

"I love you too." You smile happily, hearing him give you kisses through the receiver before hanging up.

You're left to your own thoughts, the vase sitting pretty in front of you. Mind trying to figure out who must have sent them. Being the taken woman you were, you couldn't figure out who must have sent them, if not your fiance'. The mystery sender lingered in your mind for a bit. But you brush it off, moving on with your day, thinking maybe a family member or friend sent them. Going on with the rest of your day, a day filled with phone calls and scheduling, you forget about the bouquet sitting on your counter.

The flowers should have been the first clue, a warning sign of what was to come. Over time, you begin to feel uneasy, feeling constantly watched. Small things in your apartment were moved or went missing—things you know you didn't touch before leaving. Additional gifts mysteriously appeared on your doorstep, each accompanied by intricately detailed notes, intensifying in their personal nature.

Fury consumed you as you unwrapped another package, revealing a set of lacy lingerie in your size and favorite color. A note with it, written in the familiar handwriting, simply said, "For our special night." The realization hits you like a ton of bricks: someone has been in your home, watching your every move. Fear grips you as you realize the extent of the intrusion into your personal space. You burned that gift without a second thought; any other gift was sent to the trash.

Your nights were restless, alone in your apartment—or at least, you hoped you were alone. The feeling of being watched grew stronger, causing you to constantly look over your shoulder. You couldn't shake the feeling that someone was always nearby, waiting for the perfect moment to reveal themselves. The once innocent gifts and flowers now felt like a sinister presence in your life, leaving you on edge and paranoid. You had even gone to the police, informing them what was happening, but they said they couldn't do anything without concrete evidence of a threat. This only added to your growing sense of dread.

Walking home from lunch with your friends, you decided to detour to a park, needing a moment of solitude. Sitting on a bench, cherry blossoms fall around you, their delicate petals drifting to the ground like whispers of reassurance, offering a sense of peace and tranquility in the midst of your fear.

As you take deep breaths and enjoy the gentle wind tousling your hair, you fail to notice someone sitting beside you as you drift off in thought. A tap on your shoulder brings you back to reality with a jump. Looking at where it came from, your eyes widen in shock at the white haired man sitting next to you. It took a second before your mind recognized him; he was the man from the cafe. There was a smile on his face, perfect as you remembered, one that brought you an icy feeling down your spine. He tilted his head, holding a single flower to you, a ribbon tied to its stem.

"Fancy seeing you here." He grinned.

Feeling unsure of how to react, you stared at the man with bewilderment, your heart beating fast. You weren't stupid enough to trust him, frowning at his close proximity. His presence put you on edge, as memories of what he said weeks ago ran through your mind. Knowing he was the one behind the unsettling messages you have been receiving the last week. Pouting, he let the flower droop a little in his hand once he realized you wouldn't take it from him.

"Don't be like that." He sighed dramatically, dropping the flower to his side, eyeing your form.

His smile was charming, reminiscent of when you first met. His eyes twinkled mischievously over his sunglasses. Under different circumstances, you might have admitted that he was quite attractive. Now he only sent chills down your spine, especially with how comfortably he said your name, as if he had known you for years.

As your shoulders tense, you try to move away from him, but just like before, he grabs your wrist. Pulling you to sit back down with him. His grip was ironclad, unmoving as you writhed in a futile attempt to break free. Every detail of his eyes was sharp and intense, as if they were staring deep into your soul.

"You know I'm surprised; you were super easy to keep an eye on." His words dripped with chilling confidence, sending a jolt of fear through you and causing your heart to race even faster. "You should really pay more attention to your surroundings. You never know what monsters lurk out there, ready to eat up a cutie like you."

"What… what do you want?" You asked, your voice small, and your throat felt tight in fear. The grip on your wrist tightened as he leaned in closer.

"That doesn't matter right now," he said casually, his tone sending shivers down your spine. "Let's get to know each other a little."

He wraps his arm back around you, letting go of your wrist to bring your body closer to his. To anyone walking by, it would just look like a couple enjoying the spring weather together. Your body was rigid as he rubbed your shoulder a bit roughly, his cold fingers feeling your soft skin.

You wish you hadn't worn that dress today; its low neckline and thin straps gave him easy access to your skin. Goosebumps littered your arms as you tried to subtly move away from his touch. His grip tightened slightly, indicating his control over your movement. A sinking feeling in your stomach settled, and you knew you needed to get away.

"I don't want anything to do with you." You told him, wishing there wasn't a waver in your voice, wishing you stood stronger against him.

His entire energy and demeanor were intense, but there was a slight furrow in his brow at your words. It was gone as soon as you noticed it, and the same cocky grin was on his face the next second.

"Princess, I don't think you have a choice." His words sent a chill down your spine, filling you with fear at the core of your being.

Silently, he retrieved his phone and began scrolling through a series of photos. The photos displayed your family, friends, and your fiancé. Your loved ones are living their lives, oblivious to the danger they are in because of you. He even has pictures of you from the last week, going from you at work to you in your apartment in your private moments. Finally, he stops the slideshow, sliding the phone back into his pocket.

"Get where this is going?" He chuckles, edging even closer to make sure your thighs touch. "It was difficult to find any real dirt on your boy toy; he's a good guy. I will give him that, but... I know exactly how to make him disappear."

You nod slowly, feeling the lingering threat of danger in the air as you try to comprehend the gravity of the situation. His presence caused you to take short, panicked breaths. This is something he actually notices: a softer look in his eyes now while his hand moves to rub your thigh comfortingly. Your body stiffens as you feel the tip of his fingers tracing just below the hem of your dress.

"Gotta cut this short. Still have to prepare a few things real quick; I couldn't help but check in on my girl." He leans closer to kiss your cheek softly before pulling away.

You didn't respond, feeling too suffocated next to him. Your wide eyes focused on him; it seemed he wanted to be flush with you no matter how much you squirmed away. Fortunately, he doesn't prolong the moment, letting go of your shoulder and putting his hands on his knees.

"I'll come get you shortly; I don't want to keep you waiting too long." He says it playfully, winking as he puts a piece of gum in his mouth and smacks it noisily.

With that, he rises from the bench, looking down at you with a beaming smile, and turns to walk away. He disappears from sight, walking out of the park. This left you feeling worse than before as you wiped your cheek clean. Your gut feelings intensified, urging you to run.

When you got home, you immediately started packing, changing into a simple pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt. Hurriedly packing a bag with the bare essentials, leaving a mess behind in your wake. You didn't know exactly what you would do, yet you had to get away. The urgency of the situation propelled you forward, heedless of consequences or sacrifices.

It was unbearable to see your stalker in real life—a smack in the face of the true danger you were in. Quickly, you texted your fiance', explaining you were going to stay with a friend for a few days. Once you finally explained to him the situation with the stalker, he called to discuss the next steps.

"You should've told me what was happening."

"I know… I didn't want to worry you. This meeting was important." Tears welled in your eyes, and the stress of everything came to a head. Confiding in him finally brought you comfort, but a part of you felt guilty for not telling him sooner.

"Not more important than you and your safety, I love you."

"I love you too." You whispered into the phone, wiping any stray tears from your face.

"I'll get the next flight out. Stay at your friend's place until I get there," he said firmly. "Keep your taser on you wherever you go. Be safe."

"I will, thank you," you replied, feeling a sense of relief wash over you, knowing he was on his way to be by your side. The thought of having him there to support you made the situation feel more manageable.

He quickly explained the stalker situation to his boss, secured the next available flight, and ended the call upon reaching the airport. The sun had long set, and the dark sky was beginning to fill with twinkling stars, visible through the windows.

On any other night, you would have enjoyed the starry night with a glass of wine and your favorite book, but now you ignore the view. Focus on packing up for your impromptu trip away from the comforts of your home. Once you finished packing, you moved a suitcase into the living room, ready to leave.

A sudden, hard knock at the door surprises you greatly, causing you to jump. It repeats after a moment; much harsher, the door shakes in its frame. Nervously, you move silently to see who it was. Through the peephole, you see that cursed head of snow white hair, his smile as wide as ever. Stepping back, your breath catching in your throat, and your legs turning to jelly as adrenaline surged through your veins. Your stalker was outside your apartment, banging on the door while calling out your name in a joyful tone.

As escape plans raced through your mind, the realization of being in a high-floor apartment without a fire escape sank in, presenting a daunting obstacle. Panic grips you as you frantically reach for your phone in the kitchen. Just as you go to grab it, a loud, crashing sound comes from behind.

Turning around, you see the front door on the floor with a crater in it, and your stalker is smiling menacingly at you. For a moment, you both freeze, a standoff of short going on. Without hesitation, you reach for a knife from the block on the counter behind you and hold it out in front. Despite your nerves, your hands didn't shake as you pointed the sharp knife at him, a cold stare on your face.

"Get the fuck out."

The man smiles at this, laughing a bit at your attempt to intimidate him. As he stepped forward to come closer to you, his finger traced over the countertops. At that moment, you instinctively step back from him, creating distance between you. You both circled the kitchen island cautiously while he slowly removed the bandages covering his eyes.

He put the bandages on the counter, his blue eyes watching your every move like a hawk. He pauses, smirking, his hand stopping just at your phone, then quickly picks it up and crushes it in his hand. Letting the phone fall to the counter in a broken mess, he looks at you with a wide grin.

"Now we can have some real fun."

The front door was behind him; you knew you had to risk running past him or deeper into your apartment. The latter wasn't the best idea since you would be trapped in a corner with no way out but to run you would have to risk getting caught by him. With a deep breath, you made a split-second decision to dart towards the door, hoping to make it out before he could react.

As you sprint to the front door, he easily catches you, wrapping strong arms around your waist. Knife still in hand, you try to swipe at him from behind, only earning you a twist of your arm. A sharp pain radiates through your arm as he twists it more into an awkward angle, making you yell in pain and drop it to the floor in a loud clang.

Pulling you closer, he easily holds you against him, not being phased by your kicking and screams. Securing an arm around your waist, his hand held both your wrists with ease. He leans in, burying his head in the crook of your neck and taking a deep, unsettling breath. The other hand goes over your mouth to muffle your screams. In retaliation, you managed to wiggle your face out, biting down hard on his hand, your tongue flooding with a coppery taste.

This didn't seem to phase him; his blood was dripping down your chin. The metallic tang of his blood is sickening you. Nevertheless, you continue to struggle in his arms, trying to elbow him to break free. A guttural moan escapes his lips as he plants small, chilling kisses on the skin of your neck, enjoying this moment. You feel trapped, like a rat in a snake's grip, desperate for a chance to escape.

"You're so soft." He whispers into your ear, tightening his grip over you, not budging as you dig your heel into his shins.

Teeth still clenched on his hand, digging deeper for him to let go. When he didn't respond you released your jaw, you threw your head back. You hit him square in the nose, eliciting a gasp of pain from him. Blood drips from his nose as he stumbles back, momentarily stunned. Seizing the opportunity, you push him away and run as fast as you can, your heart pounding in your chest.

You run towards the door, the gaping exit mocking you, so close yet so far. You don't make it much farther; he grabs your hair harshly and throws you to the ground. On the floor, you cough and gasp for air. The impact of your back on the hardwood knocked air out of your lungs. As you crawl away from him, trying to regain your breath, he stands in front of the only exit, looking over at you with a menacing grin.

"Here, I thought it would be easy; God, I fucking love this." He wipes his nose with his sleeve, smearing blood on his face. A demented look on his face tells you that he's enjoying this far too much. "As much as I want to continue, kind of on a time crunch, babe. I'm pretty sure your lovely neighbors have already called the police."

Saying this, he crouches down, pulling you to him by your ankle. You kick at him with your other foot, one connected to his chin, but he only laughs in response, dodging any more of your attempts to fight back.

"You're a feisty one, I like that," he chuckles, tightening his grip on your ankle as he begins to drag you closer. "You're not going anywhere."

Your heart races as you desperately search for a way out of this nightmare. Keeping a hold of you, he pulls out a syringe filled with mysterious liquid from his pocket. The sight makes your heart drop. In your shock, he stabs it roughly into your thigh, pushing the liquid in. As the drug takes effect, your vision blurs and your body goes limp, leaving you at his mercy.

"Sweet dreams." He takes you into his arms, watching you fall into unconsciousness. The last thing you hear before blacking out is his sinister chuckle echoing in your ears

Hope you enjoyed lovelies! Likes/ reblogs are appreciated <3 pls no repost

[niki-phoria]

my baby, sweet babyって これからも先一生君に

pairing: okkotsu yuuta x gn!reader (no pronouns used) genre: fluff word count: 485

notes: every time i post a jjk fic i struggle to find new headers to use lol, you can read this as a non sorcerer au if you want, not proofread, pls forgive any mistakes !! title from ONE OK ROCK - my sweet baby

autumn comes in the form of golden leaves decorating the trees and a cool breeze blowing through the air. OKKOTSU YUUTA runs a stray hand through his overgrown strands of hair, pushing his bangs out of his face. he takes a deep breath, slowly letting the weight of the world slip away from his shoulders. he winces at the dull ache that lingers in his shoulder blades - something that you’ll be sure to scold him about later.

yuuta glances over his shoulder when you open the door with a quiet click. the door creaks as you slide it to the side just enough for you to step out into the sunlight. the welcome mat placed in front of the door feels scratchy beneath your feet as you take a step closer to him. “hey,” you smile.

“hey,” he repeats. it’s impossible to not be influenced by your joy; yuuta’s lips quirk upwards into a small grin of his own before he realizes. his face flushes ever so slightly at the realization, making him quickly turn his gaze back towards the setting sun ahead.

“enjoying the fresh air?” 

yuuta nods. “i was just watching the sunset.” 

you smile softly in response. everything looks softer in the golden light. yuuta’s eyes shine the color of honey. hues of pink and purple swirl throughout the sky. you can just barely make out the twinkle of stars beginning to appear as they welcome night once again. 

“it’s getting colder out,” you say. your fingertips skim the edge of your balcony railing as you wander over to stand beside him. the polished wood feels smooth against your fingertips; it feels cool against your skin as you lean against it. “we’ll have to start wearing our jackets again soon.” 

yuuta hums. soon, snow will begin to filter through the sky, painting the world white. soon, your mornings will be spent huddled up in bed together, your bodies tightly intertwined under the guise of conserving warmth. soon, you’ll scold him as you tug a hat over his head when you send him to work in the morning with warnings about not catching a cold. 

the thought makes him smile to himself. “i love you,” yuuta whispers. his voice is so quiet you almost miss it entirely when the wind carries his words away. 

warmth spreads to his face when you reach over, taking his hand into your own. you intertwine your fingers together effortlessly - as if your bodies are two pieces of a puzzle. your hands feel warm against his skin when you give his hand a reassuring squeeze. 

“i love you, too.” you smile softly, sealing your promise in the form of a chaste kiss pressed against his knuckles.

the world will continue spinning. curses will be born and exorcized. sorcerers will come and go. but for now, with your hand intertwined with his, yuuta knows that everything will be okay.

taglist (open! send an ask/dm to be added): @sunoooism @vaxmpi @sad-darksoul @kamote-kuneho @dog55teeth

if you liked this fic, please comment, reblog, or leave feedback !! and if you want to support me, check out my jjk masterlist <33

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Called to Duty 5

Warnings: non/dubcon, pregnancy, abandonment, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Characters: Captain Syverson

Summary: You struggle to move on from the biggest mistake of your life but find it hard to forget among the whispers of a small town.

Part of the Backwoods AU

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

Another shift. Another new ache. It's not just your feet or hips anymore. There's a tugging in the back of your neck that tweaks each time you turn tour head a bit to far left. 

You lean on the counter. You don't care about Daye's warnings. She can stand on the hard floor while pregnant and see how she feels after a single hour. They haven't even bothered to get a standing mat. 

A few customers pass through. The usual stunted small talk passes between you, the intentional avoidance of the obvious. They'll stare at your stomach but they surely won't mention it. 

Funny, you saw a bunch of old ladies fawning over Molly, swollen with her fifth? Maybe sixth? You don't know how she keeps track. It stings a little to see them treat her like some saint while you've been tainted by the very same condition. 

You sigh and try not to think of it as you sort the novelty keychains by colour. They'll be messed up again by your next shift but it keeps your mind busy. Lately, you found your thoughts run off into the void never to be seen again. It's frustrating but a little bit scary too. 

A box lands on the counter and slides toward you as it's tossed carelessly beside the till. You grab it before it can slip over the edge and nearly recoil as you recognise the brand. You set the large box of condoms straight as a rolling chuckle greets you from the other side. 

You look up as Thor smirks and reaches into his back pocket, "having a party." 

You stare at him then scan the box. You don't say a word as your face sears. He takes out his wallet and searches lazily. 

"Wouldn't want any mistakes," he taunts as he looks through the slots. "Hm, credit." 

You hit the button and gesture bluntly to the machine. He taps without a second thought. You're riled by the sight of him so easily spending his money. Money he should be using for the child in your belly. The fact that he gets to keep living his life without a single consequence has you almost shaking. 

You tear off his receipt and nearly slam it on the box, shoving it towards him. The door rings with the arrival of another customer. You don't greet them as you're trapped in a tunnel. Your rage is centered on that big blond doofus. 

"Ah," he leans over and puts his elbows on the counter, a smug curve in his lips, "jealous, are we?" 

You don't acknowledge his taunt as you go back to pick at the keyrings. 

"Well, I've never fucked a pregnant woman," he muses, "wouldn't need these, would we?" He chortles as he taps the box with his knuckle, "how about one last go? For old times' sake. You get a break--" 

"Disgusting," a growl undercuts Thor's gross proposition. 

You flinch and look up. Sy stands with his arms crossed over his burly chest as he scoffs. Thor tilts his head and pushes himself straight. He face the other man with a cluck. 

"There you are, buddy," Thor booms, "I heard you've been sniffing around my leftovers." 

"Don't call her that," Sy sneers. "What're you doin' bugging her?" 

"I should ask you the same," Thor postures at the other man, a good few inches taller yet it hardly seems to matter. "You like sloppy seconds? Guess you're used to taking whatever you can get after all those field rations, huh?" 

"Don't," Sy grits as tension ripple in the air. 

Their voice carry through the sleep pharmacy and you notice how the white coats behind the far counter shift to see. Oh no. 

"Hey, guys, it's fine, let's not--" 

"Don't what?" Thor pokes Sy's shoulder. The other man drops his arms straight and balls his fists. "She's a slut. Look at her. She begged me to fill her up--" 

"I'm warning you," Sy snarls. 

"Look, I don't even know if it was me who did that. The way she was dancing up on everyone," Thor snickers, "you don't really think it's an immaculate conception or something." 

"I'm telling ya to leave and to leave her alone," Sy steps closer, undetered by the difference in height. He's just as thick, if not a little thicker, than his foe.  

Thor looks at you over his shoulder and makes a face, "you really fucking this mad dog--" 

Sy tackles Thor before he can finish his sentence. The wraps his arms around him as he charges and they hit the counter with a startling slam. You cry out and back up, the keychains scattering at the force of their impact. 

Thor and Sy latch onto each other and roll against the counter, shifting the till as the condoms teeter on the edge. Mints rain down onto the tile as they grunt and grapple.  

Thor pushes off and holds Sy at arm's length. The latter hurls a fist into the former's cheek and gets one on the jaw in return. They dodge and punch, latching back into each other as they collide with the rack of greeting cards. 

"Enough!" Daye shrieks as she runs up the center aisle, "I've called the police so you both better stop!" 

The men ignore her as you watch in horror. Fuck, fuck, fuck.  

You come around the counter, shaking as you approach the men feuding like vicious cats. You dodge away as you're nearly bowled over in their chaos and hold your stomach. Daye continues to yowl helplessly. 

"Sy, Sy, please, stop! Thor! Sy! Syverson!" You holler, "Saul!" 

His birth name catches him off guard and he stops. Thor lands a crunch blow in his nose but is quickly warded off with a forearm. Syverson keeps him at bay as he covers his nose and snorts. 

"Hey!" Daye bats them with a broom, "enough! Enough!" 

Thor detaches, shoving the other man one last time, and spits blood towards your feet. 

"You two," she huffs as he pulls the hanging tie from his hair, "deserve each other. Couple of fucking strays." 

He grabs the broom from day and flings it, stomping over the mess and out the door as he mutters about his family. You frown and look down at the trampled cards and mints. Daye sniffs and shakes her head as she frames her hips. 

"I think it goes without me saying," she snips, "you're fired and sir," she turns to Sy, "you better leave before the sheriff gets here. Oh, and don't come back.” 

You look up from the ruin at Sy and he gives a fluttery blink, “I’m sorry--” 

“Go, please,” you croak as you move your hand to your lower back. 

“I didn’t--” 

“Go,” you snap and turn your attention to your manager, “Daye, please, I didn’t do this.” 

“She’s telling the truth, was all me,” Sy backs up. 

“I’m not hearing it. None of it,” Daye spits, “you’ve been nothing but trouble since you got here. And you, sir, should be ashamed.” She spins and marches off, “if you don’t clean that up before you go, I will have the sheriff charge you with destruction of property.” 

[anemptypuddingcup]

Wishes aren’t real.

Samurai Zoro x Female Maid Reader.

You were saved and swept up and out of poverty by a loyal and thoughtful samurai. Eyes filled with admiration and gratitude for him blinds the things that may need to be seen.

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3

Contains: Contains Dark Themes. Zoro returning home late. Zoro and Reader bathing together. Reader is a virgin but is familiar with masturbation only. Non-consensual touching. Non-consensual to consensual pussy eating. Consensual fingering. Zoro becoming mean and showing his nature. Focuses on what starts the main point of this dark series. (Basically non-consensual or unwanted sex.)

It had only been a week.

Just one week in the estate.

Being a maid of the estate surely wasn’t a bad thing, but at the same time you felt that it was less appealing than you’d thought it would be. When you were offered this opportunity, you didn’t think it’d be so…boring. With how many nights Zoro would be gone, it grew so lonely without him being there most of the time within the week that you’ve been there.

You felt that Zoro probably didn’t care about you as much as he said he did. All of those sweet and promising words began to wither into more of a joke the more you sat there and thought about it alone in your bedroom every night. You felt so much like a fool…or a clown. A lonely clown in a circus. It all just…felt like there was no point in you being there.

Then again, you were the maid and he was the master who gave the orders to you. He probably saw you as nothing more than a tool, someone to get chores and housework done that he wouldn’t do himself. Yet he looked so promising that day when he spoke to you in that tea room, his eye was full of belief and wonder to see how you’d grow.

You didn’t like the fact that he probably…lied to you. He claimed that he sees you differently unlike other filthy higher class people who shows disgust to the lower class. Yet the way he seemed to be acting towards you and showing you was how anyone of his status would see a lower class maid.

Just a piece of trash sitting there to be cleaned up off of the earth’s crust.

Then again…

You were the maid and he was the master.

…

You walked down the dark hall to yourself in silence, your hands carrying soft fresh towels and a robe to take into your bedroom. You’d finished up every thing that needed to be taken care of for the day and…Zoro still wasn’t home yet.

He happened to do that very often. He’d just leave and claim that he’ll be back by nightfall, only to come back so early in the morning that not even birds were chirping. All the hot baths you ran for him and the hot meals you cooked beforehand grew cold by time he’d come home.

While part of you grew irritated from this behavior of his, it made you desperately worry for him and his safety. Even if he was a skilled samurai, it still made you fear what was happening outside of the estate where you’re never supposed to go.

It really made you wonder what was happening to where Zoro didn’t want you to leave at all…

You shake the thought away and sighed out as you come across your bedroom door. You look down the hall and take one more listen for Zoro’s footsteps, a huff leaving past your lips before you slowly slid your shoji door open and stepped into your bedroom. You leave the door cracked slightly and softly set the towels and robe down onto the tatami mats before walking over to your futon.

A yawn slipped past your lips as you grew tired from a long day of working and cleaning, finally feeling that rush of fatigue filling your body as you stood there and slipped off your geta shoes. You got down onto your knees and crawled over to your futon before pulling your heavy blankets back and climbing into your bed. You slowly pulled your blankets over your small frame before settling yourself.

You rested your head against your soft pillow, a groan leaving your lips as your eyes unconsciously shut from the fatigue and tiredness of your body. You felt your body immediately relax and rest against soft cotton of the futon, the fabric beginning to nestle around your body and cradle it providing a sense of warmth that you desperately needed to sleep.

Silence filled the room as you slept soundly on the floor, with tired snores and groans spilling past your lips with every breath you took. It was quite peaceful and easily took you to sleep, your thoughts slowly numbing and disappearing as the sleep took over and rested your body for the night.

…

Footsteps began to echo down the hall of the home as Zoro stumbled down the corridor, his geta sliding and grazing along the tatami as he struggled to walk properly in his state. He was sleepy and in desperate need of a bath, something to relax and soothe him before he’d went to sleep. He also wanted to see your pretty face after a long day of working and attending to his duties as a samurai.

He walks to the bathroom and slides the door open slightly before peeking in, only to be met with the cold empty feeling of the bathroom. The chill touching his shoulders and making him shudder and grow cold.

“Damn that woman, she didn’t run a bath for me this time…” He groans out, his hand pushing the shoji door all the way open and making his eyes meet with the darkness of the bathroom.

He sighs out as he stared at the empty and darkened bathroom before looking down the corridor, his eye a bit too hazy to see much further than he wanted to.

He huffs irritably before continuing down the hallway, making it over to your bedroom door which seemed to be cracked open. He slowly pushes the door open all the way, his eyes focusing on your sleeping figure from a distance before he slowly steps in past your doorway. He stumbles over to your futon and crouched down, his eye staring at your pretty face as he watched you take those graceful breaths of air. His eye trails down your sleeping figure, watching as it rose and fell with each breath of oxygen you took.

He stared at you for a moment longer, watching as you slept and breathed evenly.

A gemstone resting on soft and fine grain sand was the only thing he could compare this sight to.

He slowly reaches a hand out to you, softly rubbing at your shoulder and shaking you awake while you groan out irritably at the touch. You slowly turn over and sit up, mewling out before rubbing your eyes and reaching for him. “Mmgh? Sir? Is that you..?” You called out, reaching around for him and touching his hand which happened to be beside your bed.

His hand twitched unconsciously at the touch before he groans slightly, his tired eye looking into your sleepy ones.

“I need a bath to be made this instant. Please don’t take long.” He says, groaning out as he slowly stood up on his two feet and waited for you to follow instructions . You rub your eyes a bit more and quickly yank your blankets off before climbing out of your futon and getting up on your own two feet.

“Y-Yes sir, right away…” You say tiredly, slowly stumbling over and slipping your geta on before walking out of your bedroom with a sigh. Zoro stayed standing there in your bedroom a moment longer, listening to your frantic footsteps trail down the hallway.

You huffed out and stepped into the bathroom, so displeased at the fact that you were just pulled out of your sleep just to run a hot bath for Zoro. As you began to run a bath for him, Zoro steps in and slides his geta off before walking up closer to you. A monotone expression was plastered on his face as he looked down at you running him hot water into the tub.

“That’ll be fine now, I’m getting in.”

You look up at him and your eyes widens as you noticed him pulling his arms from his kimono sleeves, his long scar across his chest being revealed to you. “Ah- Um- S-Sir, are you s-sure that’s it?” You asked him, a bit flustered and now fully awake from the sight you were seeing. Zoro begins pulling at his obi and you quickly stood up and backed away from him, walking back over to the door to offer him some privacy.

“Bring me fresh towels and my robe please. Bring extra.” He demanded, looking towards you and watching as you began to shut the door. “Y-Yes sir, I will.” You say behind the door, rushing down the hallway and back to your bedroom where the towels and robes were. You quickly grabbed the linens and rush back to the bathroom, rushing back down the corridor and to the bathroom door before slowly pressing your hands against the shoji door.

“Excuse me sir, h-here’s your towels and robes…” You say, slowly sliding the door open and putting the linens down onto the floor.

“Hold on. Bring them in here like you’re supposed to. Open the door woman.” He says firmly, the sound of the water splashing around signifying that he was already within the tub. You sigh out shakily before sliding the door open and walking in, trailing up to the porcelain tub and standing there in front of him.

You kept your head facing down, not wanting to look and peek at him. In fact, you were just ready to get back in bed after a long day of cleaning.

Zoro looks up at you and smirks, looking at your embarrassed and flustered expression. You set the linens down onto the stool before bowing down and turning around from Zoro, wanting to just hurry up and walk out of the bathroom.

Zoro quirks and brow and tilts his head, staring at your body while you began to walk out.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

His words makes you come to a halt and you turn around and look him in his eye before answering.

“W-Well, y-you’re about to bathe sir. You want your privacy don’t you…?“ You asked back in response to his question, making him chuckle while his smirk grew wider. He presses his wet and soaking hand to his chin and hums out to you.

“I didn’t ask for you to leave. Come back in and close the door..”

You stood there for a few moments before sighing out and reluctantly walking back into the room, your hand slowly shutting the shoji door behind yourself. You stood beside the stool, trying your absolute hardest not to peek at his tanned skin and his muscular physique. He could tell just by your face that you wanted to look at him and his body, the heat captured on your face made it so obvious for his only eye to see.

“Tell me woman, have you bathed today?” He ask you, crossing his arms as he sat there and stared up at you. You shook your head and Zoro huffs out in response, resting his head against his fist. “I need a direct answer, look up at me.” He demanded, forcing you to look up at him and into his eye. He you stared into his fierce jaded-color eye and you felt your body beginning to shudder at the slight arousal mixed with discomfort.

“N-No sir…I haven’t bathed at all today.” You said honestly to him, causing a sly smirk to creeping across his face. Zoro motioned a hand up to you and tilts his head, urging you to get in the bathtub with him. “Well, come. Get in tub with me. I assure you that I’m fine with it.” He says, now motioning for you to take off your clothes. You hesitated and stood there for a little while, making Zoro quirk a brow before he’d went back straight-faced. He was getting impatient and he huffs out at your ignorance.

“S-Sir. May I please just bathe tomorrow morning? I’m very fatigued from today..” You asked sweetly, your face giving off pure exhaustion and drainage from the day. Zoro remained unfazed by your words and instead his glare grows darker as he sat there in the tub waiting for you.

“I’m not repeating myself.” He said darkly, his tone firm as he puts his foot down and gets straight with you. You sigh out shakily and begin undressing, the agonizing amount of time it took for you to loosen up your obi making it even more dreadful.

You look up at him nervously and he’s staring at you intensely, his eye practically glaring deep into your soul as he rested his head against his hand. As you slid your obi off, you slowly pull your linens open, your body still turned around and away from Zoro. Zoro stared as he waited for you to just pull those linens off, his eye just watching and waiting for that moment when you finally turn around.

You let your linens spill down onto the floor, revealing your pretty skin and your backside to Zoro. You slowly look over your shoulder only to see Zoro with a straight face while he stared at your bottom. “Come on. Get in woman.” He demanded, making you freeze up before you look away nervously. You slowly turned around to him, your arm covering your breasts while your hand covered your cunt from him.

You slowly walk over and stepped into the tub, your movements making the water ripple and move around slightly. You slowly lowered your body into the warm water and suds, sitting there across from him while his tall stature made you feel so small compared to him. He smirks and slowly moves over to you, your back grazing up his chest and making you gasp out suddenly.

You could feel the detail of his abs and his chest against your skin as he bent down to face you. He wraps his large and roughly-scarred hands around your body and slides them up along your sides, feeling along your soft and pretty skin. You shuddered at his touch and let out a soft yet worried mewl as he ran his rough fingers against your skin.

“Mmh~ S-Sir~” You gasp out shakily, your eyes avoiding eye contact with him as he began to touch your body without much of your permission. “S-Sir?” You call out to Zoro again yet he continues, his hands trailing lower and in between your legs while he moves your arm away from your breasts. “Such soft skin you have, a wonderful texture…” He whispers to you, his lips moving in close to your ear.

You trembled at his whispered words and gasp out as you feel him grope one of your breasts with his hands, his fingers pinching and teasing at one of your nipples.

You knew that Zoro probably just wanted to get a touch on your body and even though he didn’t ask for permission at all, you couldn’t deny that his hands felt so wonderful again your body. You felt him trail his hand deeper in between your legs before he had finally laid one of his fingers against your clit, making you yelp out before you scoot away from him and his hands.

You quickly try to jump out of the tub but he grabs at one of your hips and yanks you back into the tub while you struggled against him.

His hands pulled your hips back over to his body, his strength far more stronger than yours. You whined and fought back but Zoro kept you still and in place, a yelp erupting past your lips as panic began to run through your veins. “S-Sir please! I-I don’t want this right now!” You gasp out heavily, your heart beginning to pound as you felt it wanting to burst out of your chest. The water splashed at your frantic movements and struggle, afraid of what Zoro would do to your body.

Zoro grips your wrists tightly with one hand and holds them in place, his eye staring intently into yours that were now full of tears. “Move your hands before I give you something else to cry about.” He says, his tone deep and dark as he threatened you. A whimper leaves your lips as the tears begins to run down your face and fall into the soapy bath water below.

You struggled one last time before whining out in defeat, your struggle obviously nothing against the stronger samurai. Your struggling was pointless as it was obvious who was the stronger man here. Zoro released his grasp on your wrists and you pull back before turning away, a whine leaving past your lips while more tears ran down your cheeks.

His hands pulled you close and held you still before he’d spread your legs open wide, revealing your pussy which was spilling with arousal and betraying your thoughts easily. Zoro licks his lips and chuckles at your weak attempt at fighting back, his eye staring down at your pussy that was just begging for him to take care of it.

“A harlot aren’t you? Lying right in front of my face as if I wasn’t going to find out. Your flower…it’s spilling its nectar into the bath water as if it’s begging for me to take it.” He says to you, trailing his tongue along his lips as he stared down at your pussy dripping with slick.

“Please! I-I’m new t-to this! I-I d-don’t know much about sexual contact it other than p-playing with myself…” You admit, covering your eyes out of embarrassment as your voice grew whiny from fear.

This makes Zoro pause for a moment before he smiles and laughs at your whines.

“A pure woman who’s never been touched? I’m honored to be the first to lay my hands on your delicate body and helping it blossom to its fullest.” He hisses as he moves his fingers up to your pussy, his thumb sliding along your slit while he watched and listened to it make the lewdest sounds. He holds your hips up to his face, burying his face between your thighs while his lips presses a small smooch to your clit.

A gasp leaves you as you felt this sudden and new feeling, his semi-chapped lips adding a sensation that…you wanted to feel even more. He looks down into your eyes and chuckles lowly at you, a growl leaving himself after as he licked a stripe along your slit. “Let’s see how you’ll enjoy the feeling of my tongue against your virgin pussy~” He whispered to you, a chuckle leaving his lips as he stared up at you. You shuddered as you watched him smooch at your pussy before pulling away, savoring in the light taste of your slick.

You feel this thumbs spread your folds open before running his tongue against your slit, the thick muscle prodding at your entrance before sliding into your virgin hole. You moan out shakily and shudder at the feeling, his tongue rubbing against your velvety walls and making you move your hips against his lips. You feel him dig his tongue deep into your sticky cunt before you moan out loudly, his tongue prodding hard at your sweet spot and making your toes curl.

Zoro groans out, breathing heavy breaths while he slurped and lapped at your sticky hole. He fucks your virgin pussy with his tongue and savored in your beautiful moans, enjoying the delectable taste of your cunt on his tongue while you lied there like and took it like a good girl for him. “Mmhhh~ S-Sir~” You moan out to him, your body shuddering while you indulged in the pleasure. Zoro stops and lifts his head, his hand gripping your chin and squeezing your cheeks.

“When I’m eating your pussy, you call me by my name. Understand?” He growls, biting his bottom lip while he stares into your eyes. “Y-Yes Z-Zoro~” You gasp out, shuddering as you suddenly watched him dip his head back between your legs.

Zoro continued to fuck your pussy with his tongue, his movements now a bit faster than before and making you whine out while you began squirming and shutting your eyes tight. The continuous touch to your g-spot causes your eyes to roll back as your walls pulsates around Zoro’s tongue, your gasps growing loud while Zoro began to stare at your slutty face.

“Z-Zoro!~ Mmgh!~ I-I’m close~” You moan out to Zoro, your eyes beginning to brew with tears as you felt your cunt becoming overstimulated from Zoro’s tongue already. Zoro hums out and looks back up at you, not stopping his movements as he heard you

In fact, he begins to slurp and lap at your pussy, his nails scratching at your hips and thighs while he tried to strangled that orgasm out of you. “Release then woman, cum on my tongue and give me a taste of this virgin pussy of yours.” He demands, a heavy groan erupting from his through as his thumb began to toy at your clit. You gasp and mewl out, your hips now grinding upwards and moving on their own as your cunt begged for its orgasm on its own.

Your gasps grew heavy and airy as Zoro fought for your orgasm, wanting to just rip it out of you and hear your whiny moans spill out of your throat. A hiss leaves past your lips and you reach out to him, grabbing his mossy strands before gasping out and throwing your head back. “I’m releasing!~ I-I’m cumming Zoro!~” You mewl out shakily, your back arching as you finally feel yourself releasing on his tongue.

A long and lengthy moan leaves you as you cum, creaming onto his tongue while you felt yourself running out of energy from your orgasm. Zoro groans out as he felt your taste on his tongue, gripping your thighs tight while he felt his cock yearning to release from your taste. You groan out shakily, your grip on the tub shaky as you pulled yourself up and trembled against Zoro.

Zoro slowly lifts his head, his eye still staring down at you as he licked the taste of your essence off of his lips. You breathed heavily and look up at him, reaching out to him and needing some sort of balance to help you not fall into the soapy water. Zoro pulls you into his embrace while you tried to regain your breath, practically hyperventilating as you struggled to breathe. Zoro stared down at you as he lies back against the tub, his hand running along your back and rubbing it to soothe you.

His hands trailed down to your ass and he groped the doughy flesh softly while you lied there against his chest. He was smiling eagerly down at you, staring into your eyes while his cock throbbed at your fucked-out face. “Sit up, I’m not done pleasing you yet.” He demanded, pulling you up from his chest before he pulls you off of him completely.

“M-More? D-Do we have to s-sir? I-I’m very tired and if I don’t get my rest, I won’t be able to clean tomorrow.”

“Then I won’t give you any tasks for tomorrow. Get on all fours.”

You let out a little whimper before turning over and getting on all fours, your hands and knees against the bottom of the porcelain tub. Zoro stares at the wonderful view of your behind and hisses out as he slides his digits along your leaking cunt, his fingers spreading your folds open a bit while you moan out shakily.

You mewl out shakily as you feel him slide his thick digits into your virgin cunt, your velvety walls stretching and making room for his fingers. You winced a at the painful stretch and whine out, eating at your bottom lip while he fingered your tightened hole open. It took him only a few seconds to to find your g-spot, a sudden moan spilling from your lips as he curled his fingers up and pressed hard into your bundle of nerves.

He thrusted his fingers in and out of your pussy slow yet forcefully, making sure you felt his fingertips kissing your sweet spot every time he’d slide his fingers into your cunt. “Ngh~ Z-Zoro~ F-Feels so good~” You huff out shakily, arching your back while the pleasure began to build up in your lower tummy. The lingering feeling of oversensitivity was still present in your cunt which made it a bit harder to endure the pleasure of Zoro’s fingers deep inside of you.

“Such a nice sight I’m seeing, your unblossomed pussy clenching tight on my fingers.” His palm hitting the doughy flesh of your ass as he hissed out in response, the grip on his fingers making his tip leak with pre while he sat there with his legs crossed in the water. You mewl out and wince at the stinging pain of his palm hitting your backside, the heavy-handed hits causing you hiss out slightly at the pain.

Zoro begins to palm at his thick cock, watching as you wiggles your hips slightly and listening to your moans that made his cock even harder the more he sat there. His groans were quiet but it was obvious that he was masturbating behind you while enjoying the view and enjoying your pussy around his fingers.

Your arms began to grow a bit weak and your hips were growing shaky while your second orgasm grew close. “Z-Zoro~ M-My arms-“ You say, a gasp spilling out after as your arms began to wobble a bit. Zoro ignores your complaining and continues to fuck your cunt with his fingers, disregarding your words. “Hold on to the edge of the tub. You’ll be fine.” He said firmly, a slight hiss leaving his lips as fucked his fist to your cunt fluttering around his digits.

You obeyed and shifted to the side of the tub, holding on and spreading your legs open a bit wider while he begins to pump his fingers a bit faster. A whine left your lips and you sighed out, now moving your hips a bit more into his digits and and moaning out a bit louder. You bit your bottom lip tightly as your eyes began to cross, your walls clenching tight around Zoro’s fingers as you felt yourself wanting to cum again.

You let out a heavy gasp before releasing out onto his fingers again without warning, your body shaking against his as you let out a heavy little gasp. Zoro groans out slightly and gives his cock a few more pumps before he finally releases, cumming out into the soapy water with a slight groan.

You breathe out shakily and sit back down into the tub, breathing out heavily as your walls pulsate around nothing but warm water. Zoro crosses his arms and breathed heavily himself, his chest rising and falling pretty quickly while he stared down at your glistening skin. You hum out shakily and lie back against the stone wall, want wanting him to touch you anymore due to your exhaustion.

“Get out and dry off. We’re going to my bedroom. We’ll bathe more properly tomorrow morning.”

You sat up and look at him before a whimper left your lips.

“S-Sir please…N-No more…” You begged, your pussy already overstimulated and sensitive so much that you didn’t even have the energy to get out to the tub. Zoro glared down at you and slowly stood up out of the soapy water, revealing his thick and still hardened cock down to you. Your eyes widens at the size and you shuddered before scooting back and away from him. “Get up.” He says, gripping your arm a bit tight and pulling you up and out of the tub. “No! N-No please!” You begged, your whines growing more hysterical as you tried to struggle and pull away from him.

Zoro picks you up and throws your body over his shoulder making you yelp out before you begin to scratch against his back and flail around. Zoro slowly walked out to the bathroom, a trail of water drops and wet footsteps following as he carried you down the estate and to his bedroom. Both of your bodies were still drenched and soaking from the bath water and part of you wish that he wasn’t so cruel and yanked you out of the bathtub. You shuddered within his grasp, shivering and cold from the cool air hitting your skin after not drying off.

Zoro stops at his door and slowly slides it open before walks in and laying you down onto his futon. His futon smelled of his musk, the thick scent of pine and his own sweat filling your nose and making you tremble. You quickly scoot back and away from him but Zoro grabs your calf and pulls you back towards him, making a whine erupt from your throat.

“Spread your legs open before I spread them open myself.” He said darkly, huffing out as he got down on his knees. “Please…P-Please….” You trembled and hesitate, your lack of movement causing Zoro to spread your legs open forcefully. You continued to stare down at his cock and he slowly slides down onto his tummy and looking up at you between your thighs.

“I’m not ruining your purity just yet. I want to taste and feel more of your pussy on my tongue and fingers.” He says to you, promising not to take your virginity.

You couldn’t trust his words, you were too afraid to trust if he was telling the truth to you or not. He could tell that you didn’t trust his words so he made sure to promise you. “You have my word. As long as you be obedient and listen to me, I’m not going to fuck you.” He promises, his thumb already teasing at your still soaking folds while you begin to mewl out again. You whine and nodded, spreading your legs open a bit more for him unwillingly.

You didn’t have much of a choice but to obey him. As exhausted as your body was, Zoro wanted to make sure you didn’t have the energy to do anything tomorrow.

You couldn’t even tell if he was doing out of adoration for your own body or for his own pleasure. Or either both.

“I’m going to make sure you cum until you can’t anymore.”

[eoieopda]

one to ten | jww

summary: your roommate may not know how to help you feel better, but that won’t stop him from trying. pairing: jeon wonwoo x reader au: roommates to ?, pining, sick fic type: drabble (hurt/comfort, fluff) rating: pg13 — still, minors do not have my consent to interact with my content. cw: gn!spoonie!reader; downbad!best boi!super shy!roommate!wonu; chronic illness/pain is implied but no diagnosis is specified; hand-holding 👁️👄👁️; barely proofread because brain fog, lol. a/n: this is super self-indulgent and based on my own personal experience with chronic illness (fibromyalgia), so it may be different than yours!! wc: 1k

Wonwoo isn’t psychic, but he knows that something is up the second he gets home from work.

Walking through the door of your shared apartment, he moves immediately to deposit his keys on the nearby hook and finds that yours are already there. Odd, he thinks, given your habit of imposing your own overtime. Your commute is shorter than his, and you still never beat him back here.

He looks down as he toes off his shoes, carefully maneuvering them across the mat to avoid both your heels and your sneakers, which don’t seem to have budged since this morning. Wonwoo frowns. It’s rare for you to skip out on the gym at the end of the day, but it’s unheard of for you to miss work — even when you should, in his non-expert opinion.

That’s a bit of a red flag, he’ll admit.

Wonwoo locks the door behind him, pads off across the kitchen and through the adjoining living room, and eventually stops at your bedroom door. It’s cracked open — a secret code of yours, he’s learned. One that means you don’t want to be alone, but you feel the need to warn him about what’s on the other side. Usually, it’s you, deflated in your bed in a way that you find embarrassing. Still, even on your worst days, he’s never seen you look bad. 

He’s not convinced that you could if you tried.

Softly, Wonwoo raps his knuckles against the doorframe to warn you. In response, he gets a muffled, “Hello?” It wraps around his heart and squeezes just a little. He loves that about you; how gentle your voice is when everything else you’re experiencing feels the opposite.

You lift your head up just enough to make eye contact with him as he slips through the doorway, and you smile. If it aches to do so, you pretend like it doesn’t.

He clears his throat awkwardly. “Hey.”

Admittedly, this is the part that Wonwoo feels he’s worst at. He’s never quite sure what to ask or what he can do to help, always simultaneously afraid of being patronizing or too hands-off. It’s a balancing act; his equilibrium is off.

And, god, he’s so shy when it comes to you. He can’t make himself act on any of the comforting impulses he absolutely has, so he simply pauses at the end of your bed and sweeps his eyes over your frame. A triage of sorts, he supposes.

You’re on your right side, hugging a hot water bottle, and there’s a Munchlax plush between your knees to keep them separated. Your left hip hurts, he guesses. It’s probably safe to assume that the rest of you does, too. Crinkling his nose as he thinks, he asks, “One to ten?”

Another code. 

Wonwoo has to adjust the scale when you answer — three — because your three is his eleven. The good news isn’t lost on him, though: Your pain was a six during the last flare. Things may not be great, but they’ve definitely been worse.

“Mostly just tired,” you sigh, as if you can hear the calculations he’s running in his head. “I was this close —” You lift an arm and pull your thumb and index finger in so that they’re almost touching. “— to making it out the door this morning.” 

Dropping your arm again slowly, you pat the space next to you in silent invitation. Wonwoo’s body hesitates, even though his pulse doesn’t. It’s par for the course, unfortunately for him.

He wonders how many moments like this need to pass before his palms don’t sweat anymore. Will filling the spot next to you on your bed, on the couch, or even in your passenger seat ever not affect him like this?

Maybe not.

He’s okay with that, so long as you keep giving him the opportunity.

You laugh, and it single-handedly diffuses the tension in his posture. “I think the side of the bathtub got taller. I almost had to yell for you to haul me out of there, but I managed.”

“Proud of you.” He’s chuckling now, too, but that doesn’t undermine how much he means it. Getting your body to cooperate with you is always hardest in the mornings.

For what it’s worth, he would’ve come running if you’d called.

Carefully, Wonwoo sits down on the vacant side of your bed and scoots closer to you, knowing you’ll call him out for leaving distance and anticipating how badly he'll blush if you do. It’s so much easier for you to be close to people than it is for him, but he’s trying. 

He hopes you see that.

There’s a microscopic wince when you wiggle your way towards him. It’s replaced quickly by a satisfied little grin once you settle, your body curving around his bent knee like a puzzle piece slotting into place.

“You always run warm,” you muse. “I’m jealous.”

Wonwoo blinks, a little dumbfounded that you’ve noticed — not that he should be, really. He’s obviously picked up on a lot of trivia about you since you took over his former roommate’s lease several months back. If he knows the order of your skin care routine, it’s not weird for you to know that he can’t sleep without a fan on.

Should he have noticed this about you by now?

Curiosity makes him bold, apparently. He pulls his palm off the mattress and touches his fingertips to the back of your hand. “Goddamn,” he whistles. 

His hypothesis is proven the second he touches you — you’re freezing — but Wonwoo admittedly gets a kick out of the temperature disparity. He can’t help but run the pads of his fingers absentmindedly over your skin, tracing nonsense patterns. You can’t help the pleased hum that slips out of you as you watch his ministrations; or the way your heavy eyelids start to interrupt your view. 

Even when he’s sure you’ve been lulled to sleep, Wonwoo keeps doodling. It’s got to be exhausting to exist in a body that always aches, and you deserve whatever rest you can get. Truth be told, he could probably stay like this for hours if that would help. He’d be doing the same thing at his PC, anyways, holding a mouse instead of your hand.

Yeah, he thinks, this is a much better set-up.

[cosmorugs]

The microfiber technology of this door mat is excellent at trapping dirt and moisture, ensuring that your floors stay clean and dry.

Available in a range of stylish designs, these door mats are perfect for adding a touch of class to any entrance. Enjoy a clean and inviting entrance every day!

[cuntstroworld]

Seduction

TW- this is a smut if you do not like reading things with sexual content please click off viewer discretion is advised :D

This story includes the following

Matting press

Spitting

Stripping/Adult entertainment

Fingering

Face fucking

Public sex

This is a Shiu Kong smut

“I need that late night Lovin"

Coming back from a successful business transaction Shiu Kong and Toji Fushiguro decided to hit one of the hottest strip clubs in Shibuya, stepping into the club the men are immediately blinded by the neon lights. Both pay for their entry, strippers immediately notice the new faces and want to grab them for their archive. Toji was snatched away by a stripper and taken into the back, Shiu walked around the club before his eye made contact with a girl who caught his eye almost automatically.

Y/n connected eye contact with Shiu ignoring all the non-paying men who tried to request her for the night, walking up to the man she got a good look at him making out his facial features in the man's face. "So, are you going to stand there and stare at me or are you going to ask me for a dance?" putting her hand on her hip Y/n gave him toothy smile before walking away, swaying her hips seductively in front of Shiu.

Watching her walk away Shiu was quickly snapped out of his trance and immediately followed behind the girl. Getting to the back of the club the music faded away, hearing multiple giggles and seeing different girls coming and going but he kept his eyes on Y/n. Opening a door the lights dim, leaving one pole in the middle of the room, and a large black sofa that wrapped around the pole. Standing in the middle of the room Y/n got up on the pole, holding onto the pole with her hand she walked around it slowly.

Smirking Shiu closed the door behind him, walking up to her she touched his face softly leaning in closer to him breathing softy on his lips, holding on the pole with both hands. Y/n laughed in his face, pulling herself away from him as she began to climb up the pole. Shiu took his seat taking off his suit jacket as he watched the girl on the pole leaning against the sofa, he undid his tie slowly as he manspreaded smiling at Y/n.

"So, tell me sweetheart. What's your name, your real name..." she smiled as she did her pole work "hmm why do you wanna know my real name?" her voice was softy like butter, He shifted in the seat paying close attention to her movements. ''For future visits sweetheart" he smiled at her pulling out a stack of money, removing the rubber band of the money he sat back throwing the one's and hundred-dollar bills at the girl.

She watched as the money fell from the ceiling, hanging on to the pole with her legs she took off her top throwing it somewhere in the room. "Hm keep throwing money and I'll give you more than just my name" His face lit up with excitement from her words “is that a proposition? Or a promise” he smirked at her word feeling a tight sensation in his pants from looking at her topless. Leaning in he put his hands together, studying her body.

Y/n felt his eyes on her burning holes in her skin, she watched as the money kept coming looking like green stars in the sky "let's start with your name instead I mean you are the one with money here" hoping off the pole she sat on his lap, wrapping her arms from his neck she looks down at his hands seeing all of the silver rings he hands on his fingers. "You like rings I see.." he spoke quietly in her ear rubbing her thigh with his harsh hands. "I have a strange addiction to unknown handsome men" he smiled at her answer , looking at her lips before looking in her eyes.

"You really wanna kiss me huh?" giggling Y/n opened her legs as she kissed his lip leaving smeared lip gloss on his, slipping his tongue in her mouth. Her tongue fought for the top spot ultimately losing to his overpowering dominance, Shiu’s hands reached out to the front of her body playfully twisting her nipples as they kissed.

Whimpering in the kiss, Y/n shivered slightly from the cold rings on his fingers. Shiu breaks the kiss and whispers into her ear “I might have to take you for myself, sweetheart, ~” he gets up pulling her legs as he gets on his knees, pulling off her panties and sticks them in his pocket. Y/n looked down at him as her cunt was now popped in his face, Shiu lips his at the sight of her “I haven't even done anything sweetheart, and you're already wet for me?” taking his thumb rubbing her clit in circular motions.

With her legs on his shoulder, she whines from the friction he applies to her clit “fuck.. I'm not even supposed to be doing this.. I can get fired” he let out a deep chuckle as he kissed her inner thighs “Don't worry about that now, what they don't know won't hurt them.” giving her some relief from the thought of being fired she nodded at his word laying back on the sofa.

Softly Shiu kissed her clit sticking two of his fingers inside her cunt, she glanced at him before laying her head back down. Sucking on her clit she moans lightly arching her back against the sofa, pumping his fingers in and out of her cunt. He sucked and swirled his tongue around her clit, hearing the sweet moans leaving the girl's mouth, Y/n whined and moan as she ran her fingers through his hair.

"Please. I'm gonna cum- faster..” Listening to her words his fingers curled inside her as he began to get sloppy eating her out, pulling his hair tighter Y/n felt her orgasm grow in the pit of her core. Moaning uncontrollably Shiu smirked at the state he had the girl in, pulling away and removing his fingers he opened up her folds looking at the mess he was creating, Y/n looked down at what he was doing wondering why he stopped.

Shiu keeps her folds open before spitting on her cunt, watching it slowly slide down inside her, smiling at her he goes back in eating her out. Pushing her legs up Shiu sticks his tongue inside her, she cries and begs him to let her cum. Y/n started to breathe heavily as her legs shook slightly in his hands. He got sloppy with her, sticking his tongue in and out of her collecting her juices. Overwhelmed by his tongue she came on his face, Shiu stood up licking his lips, and chuckled lightly at the girl.

“You look so pretty, sweetheart, and look at the mess you made. It's all over your legs.” Shiu cooed at Y/n leaning down to grab her face “I'm all sticky now..” she looked up at him sulking at the mess he made her have, Shiu unbuttoned his shirt taken it off. Y/n slowly got off the couch getting on her knees, she looked up at him biting her lip as she smiled at him “So impatient..” Shiu undid his pants pulling them down negligibly, pulling out his dick.

Looking at his size, he pulled her hair making her flinch slightly from the tug. “Open your mouth for me sweetheart” Shui was quiet yet still had a deep depth in his voice. Y/n slowly opened her mouth to Shiu, he slapped his dick on her tongue a few times before spitting in her mouth. Shoving his dick in her mouth making her gag harshly not being ready to take him in, Shiu groaned from the feeling of being in her mouth looking down at her with full cheeks.

He stroked in her mouth pulling her hair and making her look up at him as he penetrated her throat, Y/n rested her hands on her thighs hallowing out her cheeks and having a tightened grasp on him. With the sensation of Y/n sucking him off, Shiu groaned repeatedly throwing his head back slightly “shit sweetheart... You're trying to drain me already with that pretty little mouth of yours.” his praise made Y/n feel determined to make him cum.

“Fuck just like that” he started thrusting in her mouth faster moaning as his face scrunched up, slobber sticking to the sides of her mouth Y/n whined and whimpered from the sense of his dick twitching in her mouth. Grunting and breathing heavily Shiu looked up at the ceiling, eyes fluttering from his climax coming in close. Y/n was enjoying the sight of the man in his orgy, Shiu took her head and pushed his dick further down her throat.

His dick twitched before shooting a thick warm liquid into her mouth, removing his hand from her hair he pulled out, stroking himself shooting more cum into her face and breast. Swallowing his cum Y/n stood up and Shiu looked down at her, grabbing her by the neck he pulled her in close kissing them as he walked her over to the sofa pushing her back down.

“Are you on birth control?” He asked her pulling her by one of her legs, lifting them, and pushing them behind her head leaving her in a mating press. She nodded her head yes “Yes I'm on birth control.” she spoke tiredly but still loud enough for him to hear her voice. Shiu smiled at her answer as he aligned himself with her entrance, “Good. Wouldn't want any misfortunes to happen now would we sweetheart?”

She nodded her head no at his words, Shiu pushed himself inside her entrance holding her legs tighter. Y/n gripped his shoulders arching her back as she tried adjusting to his size. “Let me know when I can start..” whining as she adjusted “You can move-“ before she could even finish her sentence Shiu started thrusting inside her.

Her nails scratched at his back as she moaned louder, Grunting Shiu looked down at her. He gradually sped up loving the sound of her crying and the markings she left on his back, Y/n moaned as he picked up momentum. “Faster please..” She begged him looking into his eyes, Shiu pushed her legs back further looking at her needy face and listening to her begging he felt determined to meet her needs.

He smirked slowing down some, Y/n quickly noticed the change throwing her head back whining from his painfully slow pace “What's wrong sweetheart you look aggravated?” Shiu teased and poked fun at her as his thrust got slower “Please- please go fast I need this- please let me have this.” Y/n’s begging turned Shiu on a lot, bending down he kissed her lips a few times as he sped up.

The two moaned together moaning loudly enough for a small group of people to gather at the entrance, strippers giggled and gossiped at the sound of their colleague's Promiscuous manner. Back in the room with Y/n and Shiu, his bottom slapped against her thighs. The sounds of her cunt made vulgar noises, mixing in with the moans they made together. Y/n felt the rise of her climax in the pit of her stomach.

“I'm so close, and I don't even know what you're name is... And you don't even know mine” Her vision blurred as she talked, Shiu smiled at her before his dick twitched and throbbed inside her walls. She mentioned the fact she didn't know his name, leaning down Shiu whispered something in her ear, repeating what he said “Shiu Kong…” The way his name rolled off her tongue made him throb more leaving deep strokes inside of Y/n, applying pressure on her spot.

Squeezing his shoulders she came on his dick from her area being pressed severely, a few minutes after Shui came inside her. Pulling out he looked down at her grinning at the mess he made, she felt his cum leak out of her. Shiu put on his clothes, tied his tie, and buttoned his shirt.

Pulling out his notepad and pen, he wrote down his name and number setting it on her chest “Call me sweetheart” Y/n picked up the number and looked at him weekly nodding. “My name is Y/n.” he smiled at her name repeating it a few times “Y/n, Y/n, Y/n” he threw two stacks of money beside Y/n before leaving the girl to sit in the private section, opening the door to the small group of women who listened attentively at the door moved quickly away from the door getting back to work.

Shiu made his way back to the front of the strip as we patiently waited for Toji to finish, pulling out a carton of cigarettes as he waited.

[legend-the-dumb-jock]

Chase took a picture of himself in the dirty gym mirror. Damn he looked good he thought to himself. Years of dedication and dieting has left him with a body that made men and women swoon for his attention. The bad thing about this though was Chase knew he was good looking. He treated everyone poorly and it wasn’t long before he had enough enemies that they decided they needed to do something about it. I watched him take a picture of himself smirking as he was loving the reflection he had and as soon as he took the picture I slipped right on in. Taking full control. Chase was fully aware of everything happening. I made sure of that. But for now it was me in full control. And he was helpless to anything I did. “Well chase it looks like you have quite the number of enemies. You pride yourself so much how you look that it’s time to make some lasting changes!” I said out loud in his deep voice. Chase was screaming inside my head. Trying to take control but able to do a thing about it.

Rubbing Chase’s hairy stomach I knew that the first thing I was going to do was give Chase a gut. Something he prided himself on never having. Well times change and it was time for him to gain some serious weight. Chase screamed inside his own head and I just laughed.

Going home I thought about more ways to really punish Chase and I got even better ideas. Like normal I got tired of Chase screaming non stop so I put him to sleep. Leaving me to figure out all the wicked things I was going to do. At his apartment I looked at myself in the mirror. Chase really was a good looking man. Fit and muscular. Size 14 feet. He really was something to see. Looking down I rubbed his stomach. Using my magic I mumbled the spell to activate all changes I willed on him. His stomach began to bulge. And I laughed the whole time. “No that’s not big enough. Chase shouldn’t be able to see his feet !” And as if on command his stomach surged forward. Blocking his view of the ground. “Perfect !” He rubbed a ringer down the middle of his stomach and said “he’ll never be able to suck this in even if we tried !” And just liked his stomach flexed and churned. Bloating out more. Chase’s abs disappeared completely and his muscle would never respond to him trying to flex them again. His stomach would be permanently bloated outward. Always hanging in front of him no matter what he did. “This is more like it. This way this weight will stick and never go away!” And just like that Chase would never be able to lose another pound.

I decided the hair for his body needed to be thicker. Like a sweater he could never remove and just like that his body began to grow very thick hair. A dark beard sticking out of my chin and touched the top part of his chest that was quickly becoming coated. Arms and shoulders now thickly matted in hair.

I made his body begin to smell like he hadn’t showered in days. Making this is new permanent smell while sweat began to bead on his forehead and drip down his hairier body. His shoes had gotten tighter as I made his feet thicker and hairier to match the rest of his modified body. But that wasn’t all I was going to do. “This body will need to smoke everyday. A have a beer everyday or else Chase will get sick!” Definitely going to love having those addictions now.

I spent a week in his beefier hairy body. Getting chase used to his new life. The smell. The sweating. The smoking and the beer. I quit his job for him in accounting because it was going to be too much for him after my next change. Walking down the street I let Chase wake up. Letting him feel his body jiggly as it walked. Letting his feel that wind blowing through all the hair ! Chase was screaming instantly. Crying in his own head. I opened the door to the clinic and Chase demanded to know what was going on. I just laughed and ignored him. When the doctor came in I quickly signed the papers. Not even giving Chase enough time to read them. I wanted this to be a surprise for him. He demanded to know what was going on. The doctor came in with the syringe and prepped the needle. Chase demanded to know what was happening. “You sure you want this ?” Said the dr and I shook chase’s head for him. It was then I decided to tell Chase. In his head like a thought I told him how accounting was a thing of the past. I told him how my final change for him was to make another change. One that I couldn’t use magic for. Chase screamed and cried. He begged me not to do this. I held out his arm. Still under my control. Chase screamed. The needle was inserted in his arm by the doctor. And the doctor gave me one last chance to back out. I took the needle from his hands and plunged the fluid directly into Chase’s thicker hairier arm. And left his body completely.

I watched as Chase’s jaw went slack. Drool began to pool into his beard. For all the doctor knew. Chase just offered himself up for a liquid lobotomy. And injected himself too. Instantly dropping his iq from 140 to 60. Chase would never be an accountant again. He would be a big dumb lumbering brute for the rest of his life now.

[heyhilana]

Yoga (Agent Whiskey)

Summary: The day before your mission, you go to the workout room for a stretching session. But when Jack follows behind you, he alters those plans faster than you can wrap your head around.

A/N: Hi lovelies! Sorry for no stories in a while, but I had to unplug for a little bit and not think about writing so much since it was becoming a little stressful. I appreciate all the support you guys gave me while I took my time, and I hope to stay more consistent for the fall/winter season. <3 As always, I hope you enjoy and make sure to drink water! :)

Pairing: Agent Whiskey x !f reader

Warnings: Squirting, p in v (unprotected, but hey, we don't encourage non-safe sex around here), mentions of titty fucking, mentions of male masturbation, blowjob, cunnilingus, fingering, overstimulation (like...a lot, so sue me), use of the word daddy (look the man is fine it slips).

Word Count: 5.2k (I'm not gonna even explain myself this time)

1 day left.

It rang in your head constantly as you walked down the hallway with your yoga mat and bag, gearing up for another session to prepare for your mission. While most of it was routine, the part that required more expertise was flexibility in getting through all the lasered areas. That scared you more than anything, knowing that one trip on the laser would result in a lost limb and a botched mission. 

You knew this as the political official was paranoid, to say the least, and made every room lined with lasers that were not able to be disabled unless the official’s phone was cloned and decrypted or you were able to get to the control panel to disable them all. Getting ahold of his phone would be impossible given it was his lifeline in his corrupt work, which left the route of accessing the control panel as you possessed more flexibility out of everybody in your division, making you perfect for the job. 

So, while everyone in your field told you that you would be fine, it did nothing to calm your nerves and allow you a day of rest before the mission, leading you to make a right to the next hallway, the workout room straight ahead with enough space for you to practice your flexibility training. One of your colleagues, Nicari, came up behind you as she was headed in a similar direction.

“Going to do some yoga?” She asked, her eyes drifting down to what was in your hand.

“Yeah. I can’t go on this mission if I can’t work my way through the laser rooms. From what Ginger says, there’s at least five, but I wouldn’t be surprised if the control panel area had an extra set of lasers, too.” You answered.

“But you’ve been doing it for a month now. At this rate you’re going to be our contortionist around here.” She joked, hand running through her hair.

“Isn’t that the goal?” You half questioned and joked, with Nicari laughing in response. “But this is necessary for me to do. You know I like to be 1000% ready for anything that may be thrown my way.”

“That’s one of the traits I hope the newcomers have around here. But have a good session.” Nicari wished for you.

“Good luck with your training.” You wished her well as she walked past you, and you walked down the hall. You reached and opened the door, and you saw that it was completely empty, a sigh of relief escaping your lips as you had at least an hour before the rush of agents would come in for their training. You laid your mat on the ground near the mirrored area of the room and placed your bag in the corner.

You did your quick stretches, rolling your neck and getting the blood flowing through your arms and legs before sitting on your mat to work more on your leg stretches. You moved your legs up, bringing them into a butterfly position to start off. You heard the door open, but your eyes were closed as you fluttered your legs.

“Hey. I have this room all to myself until 2.” You spoke, trying to determine who it was based on the boots creaking against the floor.

“Does that mean I can’t join you, sweetheart?” The honeyed voice that you loved echoed through the room. 

You opened your eyes and saw Jack in a casual outfit, the grey sweatpants surprising you. Loose yet form-fitting enough to make your eyes wander more than you should’ve. Given how cold it was in the Statesman building, he also had a jacket on. Jack didn’t comment on your staring, but you knew he noticed it.

“You can join me. More than enough space in here,” You responded, albeit trying to keep your tone even.

“I won’t distract you.” Jack promised, but knowing how you were when you were around him, a distraction was inevitable.

Jack closed the door behind him, and you closed your eyes again, trying to center yourself while you felt goosebumps rise along your arms. You attempted to clear your mind, but it was to no avail, a sign that the rest of your session would be filled with an inability to focus on the tasks at hand. Before switching to a tabletop pose, you fluttered your legs to get the blood going. You were rounding and arching your back in fluid motion until you looked up and saw Jack taking off his jacket, revealing his white short-sleeve shirt that was form-fitting, tight around his biceps. 

“How are you doing over there?” Jack asked, discarding his jacket near his bag and looking at you in a compromising position. 

“I’m doing good. Just getting started.” You watched Jack start his dynamic stretches as you leaned back into a half split, feeling your hamstrings loosen up and the stretch burning. But the burn in your leg was nothing compared to the burn in your core as Jack’s shirt lifted up, a glimpse of what lay underneath it and a happy trail that quickly burned into your memory. 

“If you need my help, just ask.” You could ask for his help in a few ways that would lead to your flexibility being used. But you pushed those thoughts into the back of your mind since it was not the time to let your fantasies run wild.

“I appreciate it, and the same goes for me.” 

You switched legs and felt the burn intensify in your tighter leg, finding yourself stopping short in your extension as you could only go so far. But then the thought of Jack’s hands wrapped around your legs, helping you stretch but inching closer to your thigh, spreading you a bit, was etched into your mind. It would be instinctive to spread more for him, explore your canvas, and draw with his fingers on the areas he loved the most. His touch would be forever ingrained into your memory longer than you would admit. But it didn’t sound all that bad. In fact, the thought of his big hands splayed on your body, finding your pressure points to make you melt, eliciting short gasps. Wanton sounds from deep in your belly, and your desire growing deep in your core all sounded wonderful, even if it led down a road that would make you cut your yoga session short.

And while you were having a war with self-control, Jack was having the same battle, only he was losing more than you were. Oh, how he couldn’t take seeing your soft, supple body in such angles that he wished to put you in. When you laid down on your back, and Jack saw you spread your legs wide with your hands holding your feet to stretch further, it took everything in him to not walk over there and push your legs behind your head. Jack was well aware of your flexibility, which proved to further his imagination on the nights with a tight grip around his dick, jutting his hips up into his hand, perspiration glistening his skin, and the slip of your name escaping his lips with ease as he got closer with each stroke. Dreaming about you in every way, Jack was sure that if you heard one of his ideas, you would turn red in the face. But all Jack wanted to see was your flushed face underneath him, legs pinned on your sides, and him buried deep inside you, intertwining his fingers with yours as he praised you repeatedly for taking him so well. And while Jack was sure that he would be coming on too strong if he walked over to you now, you were convinced that if you heard that phrase from him, you would come undone in mere seconds following.

“Do you need some help?” Jack asked, seeing that you had now switched to downward dog and struggled to get a deeper stretch.

“Y-Yeah, I wouldn’t mind.” Your voice was strained as you tried moving your heels down to the ground but to no avail. 

Jack walked over and was near your side, unsure where to go. “Do you want me to guide you down this way?” 

“You can try, but if you need to be behind me, it's okay.” Jack hummed in response, placing his hands around your stomach. 

He pulled you down slowly as your heart began to race, trying to ignore how it felt to have him touch your exposed skin. Your heels gently touched the ground, but you knew the pull from behind would be better.

“I think it would be better if you were behind me. I might be able to get my heels down to the ground that way.” 

Your heels would be off the ground by now, Jack thought to himself. But he moved to the back, and his hands drifted down to your hips, pulling you in more. The pull made you gasp, and his grip felt like heaven. Still, you were determined to get out of this alive despite your decisions that brought you into this situation. 

Jack pulled you towards him, ensuring he moved back so you would not feel his sweatpants. He looked away to try to save himself from looking at you from above, but the view in the mirror across the room proved to be better, making him want to pull you in more than he should. 

Fuck, I shouldn’t be doing this. But she’s so pretty like this. So pretty for me. Jack’s thoughts were making his self-control disappear by the minute. But he returned to reality when your ass brushed against his crotch.

“Oh! I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to do that.” You didn’t realize how far you were moving until you felt him on you. And what pressed back onto you was unmistakable, making you want to do it repeatedly until you couldn’t take it anymore. 

“Y-You’re all good, sweetheart.” He cursed at himself for having a hard-on now, leading him to think about the best excuse and relieve himself in his office. But then he caught a glance of your core, the little wet patch giving him all the confirmation he needed. 

He moved closer to you ever so slightly, bringing your hips back to where he could press up on you. You weren’t sure what Jack was doing, but when you felt him brush against you again, you bit your lip hard to avoid a small whimper from escaping you.

“Is this a good enough stretch, darlin’?” Jack asked, and you could hear his voice change from a lighter tone to velvet, becoming music to your ears.

“It is, Jack. It feels really good.” You answered, the slight quiver in your voice making Jack smirk.

“You look so pretty like this, doll.” Jack was bold, fully pressing his hard-on against your core, making you struggle.

“T-Thank you, Jack.” Speaking seemed to take all your effort, especially when you would be moaning his name instead.

“And I just realized something about you,” He trailed off as his hand trailed down to grab your ponytail and bring you up from your position. You gasped, seeing both of you in the mirror as he grinded against your ass.

“What is it?”

“That you want me just as much as I want you, and if I were to fuck you right here on this mat, you wouldn’t stop me.” Jack looked at you in the mirror, and you saw he looked different from when he first walked in. The controlled, confident aura he had spiraled into lust because Jack couldn’t wait any longer. He was leaving kisses down your jaw and neck that made the hairs on your neck stand up, and chills run down your spine. 

“Jack,” You couldn’t get the words out, and the look he gave you in the mirror was knee-buckling. “I need you right now. Please.” 

You were unraveling for him with your breathless words and how you rubbed up against him like you always wanted to. With each brush of his dick up against you, you were soaking through your underwear when you wished you would be soaking him from tip to base.

“And I’m sure I need you more.” He mumbled against your neck. Each kiss was electrifying, his soft lips against your skin proving to be better than the last. But you needed his lips on yours desperately.

“Baby, I need your lips on mine.”

You were going into a daze and were confident that you would let Jack kiss you all over for an eternity if possible. But Jack obliged, letting go of you for you to turn around and kiss him without a second to spare. Haste, desire, and need were entwined in the kiss, with your hands going up to his neck to play with the ends of his hair and going down to pull you flush. You nibbled on his lip, earning a playful groan from him.

“And here I thought you were innocent,” Jack mumbled against his lips. 

You smiled into the kiss, but you gasped shortly after when he gripped your ass and smacked it. It felt good to have Jack on you like this, grasping, pulling, and touching you in obscene ways that made their way into your daydreams with each passing minute. All you needed was to feel his bare skin against yours, and it seemed that Jack had the same idea as he let go of you to pull off his shirt. You did the same, following with your sports bra. Jack kissed down your chest, finding his way to your nipples with ease. He enjoyed seeing how swollen they were already, and the minute he licked your left, you squeezed your thighs together. Jack flicked and darted, taking his time teasing you, which frustrated yet excited you simultaneously. But the more you whined in frustration, the more it turned him on, with his hard-on growing more than when he daydreamed about you.

“Jack, please don’t tease me.” You begged, your hands moving to his hair to tug, gripping his locks and pulling, which made Jack grunt. It was strange, as he preferred pulling hair rather than his hair being pulled. But it was hot, your usual calm demeanor around him winding down to a needy state. Jack needed this, pushing him to suck and twirl his tongue around your raised nipple to elicit a savory sound from your lips that would make him throb. But he couldn’t help himself when he looked you in the eye as he lightly nipped, the unexpected sensation causing you to drip. With how soft your breasts were to the touch and taste, the thought of titty fucking you burned into his imagination. Seeing his dick slide in between your breasts, softness enveloping him, and you sucking the tip with your soft lips looking up at him. Fuck, he thought. Don’t wanna cum before I can feel her.

“Daddy-“ You gasped yet covered your mouth in embarrassment. 

It slipped.

It fucking slipped.

Jack stopped immediately, eyes darkening more than before. Did he hear you right? That name, pure sin, slipped before you could catch yourself, yet he wanted to listen to it again. 

“Say it again.” 

“Daddy,” You tugged on his hair, bringing him dangerously close to cumming. 

“That’s my good girl.” Jack praised as he got on his knees, which was a sight for sore eyes for you, given that he looked perfect down there. His eyes were locked on you, making you shy as his stare was intimidating. But as he kissed your stomach, adoring every roll and stretch mark with kisses and tenderness, you began to relax. Nothing felt out of place, him roughly pulling down your bottoms along with your panties, kissing your hips, inching closer to your dripping pussy only to move away to kiss your thighs. It was perfect, and as you stepped out of your bottoms with Jack’s help, you knew it would get better from here. 

Jack tapped your thighs for you to spread them, and with his head slotted right between them, he could finally see what he did to you. From there, you realized that his lips were not just good for kissing when he reached your slit and kissed your clit gently, with enough pressure to make you clench your thighs. Jack pried them open with his hands, ensuring he was perfectly between pillowy softness and wasting no time tasting you. It was as if he was hungry, trying to gather as much of your slick on his tongue since he couldn’t get enough of you. Jack was convinced your taste was intoxicating as he enjoyed your sweetness. It only pushed him to suck on your clit and have you gush on his face, the added pleasure weakening your knees.

Your thighs were pressed against his head, tugging on his hair harder than before, whimpering his name along with a string of other profanities you prayed could not be heard through the walls. But Jack pulled off you, sensing you were struggling to stay upright. He helped you down, your back on your mat and your legs spread wide for him. 

“You’re so soft, sweetheart. I could spend all day touching you, spending more time between these pretty thighs.”

Jack positioned his left hand on your stomach and his right hand right at your dripping hole, pushing two fingers in as he went back to sucking on your clit. The new sensation made you curl your toes, moving your hand up to your breast to cup it, twirling the nipple he sucked on as your head tilted back. But Jack didn’t take his eyes off of you. No, he wouldn’t dare miss the sight of you in pure ecstasy, hearing you whimper as he began his come hither motion with his fingers or the way you bit your lip to suppress a loud sound when he desperately wanted to hear it in his bedroom. Seeing you get off was a new drug Jack couldn’t get enough of even if he tried.

But while you tried to wrap your head around how you were on your mat soaking Jack’s face and fingers, you felt a familiar build-up that made you see stars. Yet, it was stronger than before. The more Jack’s fingers rubbed up on your g-spot, the more you felt the urge to soak him. 

Jack popped his head up from your thighs. “You a squirter, baby?” 

“H-Haven’t tried yet.” 

Your first time.

It rang in his ears as he picked up his pace, diving down again to suck on your clit. He wanted to give you every experience you never had, which would be the first of many. With the curl of his fingers one last time, you felt something gush out of you and land on his face and between your thighs. It was intense, making you feel lighter than air despite your labored breathing. Your thighs were firmly pressed against him, but it didn’t deter Jack from lapping up everything as much as possible, drowning himself in it because if that were a way to go, he would gladly take it. 

Jack's tongue overstimulated you the more he was down there, whimpers free falling from your mouth and your legs shaking, but it was electrifying. He was undoubtedly skilled in this area, making you wonder how good it would feel to have him deep inside you. But once you started to move away, Jack finally came up for air, his face glistening in your elixir. He quickly pulled down his sweats and boxers, and when you saw what was poking you earlier, you had to take a breath. It was thick. His pink tip was throbbing uncontrollably with little pebbles of precum adoring it, a prominent vein running down the shaft, heavy balls that clearly needed to be drained, but most importantly, there was a curve to it. It was perfect, and despite your sensitivity down there, you needed to feel him.

“You like what you see?” He leaned down to where he was hovering over you by mere inches.

“I like it a lot, actually.” 

Jack smiled at your honesty before kissing you, allowing you to glide your hands to his back. His hands trailed to your legs again, pushing them apart so he could slot himself between you. But you decided to surprise him with a special move you had been working on during your leisure. You pulled away from his intoxicating kiss to lift your legs up and behind your head. The move surprised yet excited Jack more than he could explain. He knew you were flexible but never dreamed you could do that. 

“You’re just full of tricks, huh?” He asked, and you smiled innocently at him.

“Maybe, but you’re just gonna have to see what else I have in store.” 

“I can’t fucking wait.” Jack rubbed the tip of his dick on your glistening pussy, precum mixing with your juices to gather enough for him to slide in easily. But each brush of the tip on your clit made you jump, given how sensitive you were. But it didn’t deter Jack, rather, it encouraged him to keep doing it, and when he started to slap the tip on your clit, you knew he was being a tease.

“Please fuck me already. I can’t take anymore teasing.” You begged.

“I’m gonna need you to ask correctly, darlin’.” Jack dragged the tip down to your hole but didn’t inch forward.

“Daddy, please fuck me.” 

“That’s my good princess,” He mumbled before pushing in slowly. You gasped as he pushed the tip in, and with each inch that followed, you could feel the stretch intensify. It was a little too much, but Jack kissed your forehead to calm you down. “I promise to go slow, baby.”

“It’s okay.” You told him and tried to relax while he pushed in further. But for him, he was trying to not cum early based on how tight and wet you were. You were perfect in how you felt, and it took everything in him to not move in and out of you until you were ready. He kissed as a distraction, getting the last inch in to make you moan in his mouth. You felt impossibly full, the tip curved right against your spot, and your walls began to flutter around him. The discomfort subsided after a moment passed, with you getting lost in the kiss since if there was one thing you enjoyed from what you learned today, it was finally knowing that Jack lived up to his persona in every way imaginable.

You pulled away and brushed the hair out of his face. “You can move.” 

He obliged, pulling out a little faster than how he pushed in and going back in, the stretch feeling better the second go around. But his strokes stayed intentionally slow yet deep, with Jack losing himself in how it felt to be inside you. Heaven would be one word to put it in his mind and coupled with the view he had of you, eyes looking up at him, your breasts bouncing, and a perfect view of how your pussy opened up for him, there wasn’t much else he could ask for.

“Baby, you’re taking me so well. Such a pretty girl for me.” Jack praised, and you loved every word that flew out of his mouth. It went straight to your head, and the fullness you felt in each stroke was stoking the fire that was building inside you the moment he touched you.

“That’s it, baby. Hold your legs up for me, just like that.” He leaned back up to get a better view, and a muttered curse followed as he almost came from that sight, making him thrust faster and tilt you up so he could see your spot perfectly. You enjoyed the new angle, feeling yourself pulse around him and slowly going over the edge with each deep stroke Jack gave you. It was riveting; your mind focused on nothing but this moment, and only were you brought back into reality when you felt the need to let go.

“You gonna squirt again on my dick, baby? Make another mess for me on the mat.” Jack cooed, and when he thrusted inside you again, you were in pure ecstasy. You couldn’t hold it, squirting again for him, which encouraged him to fuck you through it, making your eyes roll back as it felt like you were going forever. 

“That’s it. Love it when you let go for me.” He lowered you back on the mat and moved his hand up to move the hair out of your forehead to kiss it. You came down, and you could look at him as he moved back up, and you couldn’t get enough of the sight. You loved how he looked at you, how turned on he was by you. It was even hotter to see how much he was enjoying you, his grunts and moans making you throb. But the moment you looked down and saw how he slid in and out of you, you fluttered around him more. 

“You like watching me slide in and out of you?” He asked as he moved his hand to your clit, rubbing light circles. “Watching me fuck this pretty pussy of yours makes you so wet that you can’t help yourself.” 

“Please don’t stop.” 

“Oh, I’m not gonna stop,” He promised as he rubbed faster circles. “In fact, you can give me one more right? I know you can, princess. Just one more for me.”

You were overstimulated for sure, but there was something about the low tone in Jack’s voice, the pet name, or maybe a combination of today’s events that pushed you to keep going. It was a chant in your mind one more time. One more time of making a mess for him, one more time of finally getting what you wanted. That thought set you off, your legs shaking, so you had to move them from behind your head. It washed over you from head to toe, and your moans that brushed upon becoming screams would stay in Jack’s mind forever. 

Jack was amazed by it all. To experience this with you and bring you to this point of ecstasy and overstimulation was a dream that he thought was too far-fetched until now. But seeing you like that only convinced him he had to do this again with you for as long as possible. 

“Fuck, baby. You’re so tight.” He grunted as he thrusted into you sloppily, his orgasm nearing by the second.

“Please cum for me. Please, daddy.” You could feel he was holding on by a thread, and you wanted to set him off as he did for you. 

“Baby, where can I cum?”

“You seem to like these a lot,” You grabbed your breasts to give him a show with a smirk on your face.

Jack didn’t think twice before pulling out and stroking himself right over your breasts. He came within a few strokes, and the thick ropes of cum that followed you wished were deep inside you to fill you up to the brim. It was a mess, and when you swiped some of his cum on your finger to taste it, you swore you saw another drop of cum drip from the tip as he was fixated on you tasting him. The taste was salty, as expected, but you wanted more.

You took another swipe on your chest, licking and sucking to torture him further until it was all up; all the while, Jack’s chest was heaving from cumming so hard. But what made him overstimulated was when you leaned up to kiss and then suck the tip. His hand moved to grab your hair, him biting his lip so hard he could draw blood. You weren’t sure how far you could take it before you needed to stop, but Jack didn’t seem to mind when you took more of him in your mouth, the stretching tugging at your lips, but you paid no mind.

“F-Fuck, baby. You feel incredible everywhere.” His tone wavered from confident and dominant to inching closer to whimpering, and you had him right where you wanted him. It pushed you to take more, testing your limits given his fortunate size. But when your hands reached his balls, playing with them as you deepthroated him, there was no going back. Jack’s grip on your hair tightened, and he thrusted into your mouth as he was sure you could take him.

“Such a pretty slut on your knees for me.” Jack looked down to see you, smiling at how pretty you looked. You knew he was close when he began to tense up, prompting you to suck faster and swirl your tongue when you could, humming and making him twitch in your mouth. Jack couldn’t take it anymore, spilling down your throat and holding you there to take it. More ropes of cum painted your throat, and when Jack finally let go of your head and pulled out of your mouth, you swallowed it while looking at him. 

“You want to put me in an early grave I suppose?” He jokingly asked.

“Maybe. But I want to wait before I do that.” You answered as Jack got back on his feet. You tried to do the same, but you wobbled, earning a laugh from him.

“Seems like it’ll be a while before you can do that.” He teased as he put his hand out to help you up. You took it, and he guided you off the floor so you could get dressed.

“I think you need my towel considering what I did to your breasts.” Jack wiped you down gently to ensure you were clean, and when he saw a dribble on your bottom lip, he kissed it off you. You wanted more, but he pulled away, finding his clothes to put them back on.

“Well I didn’t get my routine in but I think you helped me for tomorrow.” You put on your clothes slowly, trying to keep your balance.

“I think this was better than any stretching routine you had in mind.” 

“Yeah, but now my legs are jelly.” You told him as you struggled to get your pants on. Jack was halfway dressed when he helped you, getting you dressed in record time before you heard the knock on the door.

“It’s time already?” Jack asked.

“Yeah. I better get out of here before I hear Bourbon’s god awful playlist.” 

“It’s not that bad.” 

You shot a look at him. “It is definitely that bad. There’s a reason why they don’t allow him to play his music at the Christmas party.”

“Point taken.” 

You both grabbed your things and walked out, but Jack grabbed your hand and didn’t look back at the men who were whistling. Ginger Ale was walking down the hall when she saw you both, and the smile on her face was indeed causing trouble.

“Done playing hard to get?” Ginger asked you.

“I was not.” You answered and acted as though you were offended.

“You were, but it’s okay.” Jack interjected.

You turned your head to look at him. “Yeah? Why’s that?” 

“Because I got you and that’s all I wanted.”

[kirschteinoir]

about you.

vendetta!leon kennedy x reader.

❝ ”and I'll miss you on a train, i'll miss you in the mornin'. i never know what to think about...” “i think about you.” ❞

leon has a favourite bar and one day, you decide to visit him there.

wc; 2277

!! gender-neutral reader but wearing perfume is mentioned, i wrote this with a slight age-gap in mind (what can i say i love me a dilf) but can be read without, drinking, mutual pining (TENSION!!!), leon is a bit of a lewser in this sorry i can’t resist writing cringefail leon

𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘴𝘰𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘴 𝘴𝘰 𝘷𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘢!𝘭𝘦𝘰𝘯-𝘤𝘰𝘥𝘦𝘥 𝘪’𝘮 𝘴𝘰𝘳𝘳𝘺,,, 𝘪 𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘤𝘢𝘯𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘯 𝘵𝘰 𝘪𝘵 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘰𝘧 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘪 𝘯𝘦𝘦𝘥 𝘴𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘰𝘶𝘴 𝘩𝘦𝘭𝘱

to anyone but you, it sounded like he was just talking nonsense about an arbitrary bar on the wrong side of town. no one gave leon more than a nod of acknowledgement every time he brought it up, wondering what was so special about this place. but not you - you slipped him a telling smile as he spoke, peering through his long blond lashes.

you hadn’t seen the D.S.O agent in a few months now - you’d had your own commitments and he’d had his. this didn’t stop him from crossing your mind often during your missions: you thought about his eyes, once sky-blue bright but now dull and frozen over like the arctic, his soft blond hair, which was so often matted with blood and sweat that you weren’t even sure he was blond for a while after you met him.

you didn’t know why you’d suddenly had the urge to grace this side of town with your presence, the side that is lit only by neon signs and cigarette butts. the rain patters against your umbrella as you wander down the alleys and the clack of your expensive shoes against the asphalt echoes in the narrow spaces. for a reason unknown even to you, you’d slipped into your best clothes before you’d left - the kind of clothes you reserved for official government meetings and stuffy medal ceremonies. you’d even sprayed a little extra of your expensive perfume in hopes that he would compliment it like he always did.

your relationship with leon was complex to say the least. all you knew of him were longing gazes after the other had left the room, a lingering touch for a second too long as you handed paperwork to him or when he brushed past you in doorways. you knew nothing of his past - his family, his friends or how he became one of america’s best B.O.W hunters - but you could paint his face from memory and pick out his cologne in a blind test. you could map the freckles on his face and trace your fingers over the stubble on his cheeks.

the hour becomes later and later as you sweep past various storefronts and other shifty establishments - some closed for the night, some advertising theri after-hour ventures. you decided to allow yourself to indulge in your thoughts of leon tonight: how had you met again? no matter how hard you tried, you blanked every time you thought about your first meeting with leon. to you, he felt like someone you had never not known and had always been a part of your life (and by extension a part of you). this line of work had a reputation for numbing you to the human condition, making everyday feel the same and replacing your earlier happier memories with unspeakable horrors.

it’s not long before you find yourself in front of a non-descript wooden door that had been painted over so many times and beaten by the elements that it appears a dull, unassuming brown. the glass windows have blackened with the build-up of grime and the brass handle is half-rust by now.

there’s no name, no sign: just a single flickering LED light to draw your attention to the uneven step sitting poised under the door, reading to ensnare the oblivious and send them flying. you lower your umbrella, feeling the rain mist your face as you shake off the excess water and tuck it under your arm. a deep breath escapes you as you push open the door, the wood dragging over the stone with an ugly screech.

you step inside and drop your umbrella into the basket by the door, sighing as you glanced around.

this is exactly the place where leon would be on a day like this.

despite looking unkempt and almost abandoned on the outside, it was rather cosy on the inside thanks to the cheap yellow lights casting a sickly warm glow. very few tables littered the bar floor and even fewer customers to occupy the sticky stools. those who had chosen to sit at the tables sat alone, their backs facing everyone else. they sipped their drinks like robots, staring into space or at the cigarette smoke dancing up from the ashtrays. their gaze barely flickered to you as the door slammed behind you.

there was no ambient music, no chatter - nothing to audibly entice you except the thump of pitchers on the tables or the clumsy clink of a bottleneck against a glass.

there was only one man sat at the bar. you dust down your clothes and clear your throat a little - you weren’t actually expecting him to have to face him tonight. the air feels sluggish as you march over to the bartender and ask for an extra dry martini. he nods once to let you know that he heard you before turning around, effectively leaving you alone with him.

“long day?” the deep timbre of his voice shakes you out of your thoughts as you bite back a smile. you turn to face him, resting your elbow on the grimy bar counter.

“everyday is a long day,” you respond with an honest edge in your voice. his features look tired and worn even under the soft yellow glow of the lights. he chuckles at your response and takes another sip of his drink, pretty pink lips wrapping around the cool glass. you watch his adam’s apple bob as he swallows the last of it in one go. you avert your eyes, your heart racing a little.

leon doesn’t need to look at you to know that you’re beautiful today, as you are everyday. even when the pair of you have been covered in blood and guts and you have mud all over your hair and face and your under-eyes show your many sleepless nights, leon still finds you breathtaking. he’ll never forget when you both met for the first time: you, a new recruit just wanting to make the world a better place and him, already numb to the things he’d been forced to endure. the mischievous glint in your eye as you sized him up and how you got him to smile within the first fifteen minutes of knowing him will remain in his memory forever.

he can feel your gaze on him as his glass clinks against the wooden table. clearly, you’re waiting for an invitation to sit with him - he wants to tell you that you don’t need one, ever.

“i don’t bite,” he muses, his finger circles the rim of his empty glass absent-mindedly.

your laugh makes him feel lighter than any mixture of spirit and liquor ever could as you slide over to the stool next to his.

“geez, you reek of liquor. how long have you been at this shithole?”

you raise your eyebrows as you sip your martini, swallowing dryly. now you’re beside him you can see the details of his face: his rough stubble, the faint wrinkles on his forehead from the constant furrowing of his eyebrows and, your favourite, his long blond lashes guarding his cerulean eyes like reeds around a pond. his irises are brighter than normal but still hint at exhaustion and you try not to stare for too long.

leon doesn’t respond: he doesn’t feel as though he needs to. he knows you know the answer to your own question, as if the empty bottle beside his gloved hand wasn’t a dead giveaway.

you mutter his name under your breath as you reprimand him lightly and he feels a lump forming in his throat as his heart skips a beat. his fingers tighten around his glass and he finally allows himself the privilege of looking at you for the first time since you walked in here.

he draws in a quick breath as he’s engulfed by your appearance: you’re a deity to him as you swirl your drink, watching the gin swish against the side of your martini glass. leon feels utterly undeserving of your company and he sighs, letting his hair fall over his eyes.

he doesn’t want to burden you by falling for you.

“what are you doing here?” he asks gruffly, no longer wanting the attention to be on him. he watches from the corner of his eye as you shrug.

“you kept talking about this place so much that i had to come and check it out. i had a gut feeling you’d be here tonight.”

leon smirks and stares down at his calloused hands: the ones that wield pistols with the same ease as he does his toothbrush. his fingertips, constantly smeared with gunpowder, should never be allowed to touch you. his smirk falls.

“pretty miserable gut feeling then, if it led you to me,” he jokes softly. his bad habit of self-deprecation made him cringe but you laugh, downing the last of your martini.

“ever the optimist, leon. lighten up, will you? i haven’t seen you in ages. don’t you think it’s fate that we met tonight?” the alcohol was beginning to daub your judgement and although you only half-believed in what you were saying, the thought that seeing leon tonight was because of divine intervention made you smile. you lean closer to the blond, trying to coax a more relaxed side of him out.

he’s caught off-guard by your openness and lifts his glass to his lips to ease the awkwardness of his reaction. it’s empty though, so he sets it down again.

“fate? i...i don’t believe in fate...”

you roll your eyes playfully at his leon-esque response.

“you know what i mean. it’s funny though, because i was just thinking about you the other day.” you’d meant it to sound light-hearted and friendly but leon senses something else hiding between your words. he raises an eyebrow at you, genuinely curious.

“thinking about me? to what do i owe the honour?”

he finally turns to face you fully, crossing his arms over his chest. his leather jacket squeaks as he anticipates your reply.

“nothing like that...” you begin, sensing the smugness of his question. “you just crossed my mind, s’all.”

your answer doesn’t satisfy leon but he doesn’t push you, knowing you’d let him in eventually - you often found yourself being more chatty, more open, more vulnerable when you spoke alone with leon. it constantly eluded you as to why: he didn’t exactly have the most welcoming personality. you just couldn’t help yourself, taking his comfortable silence as a sign to continue whatever you were rambling on about. it was a dangerous habit that you knew you had to reign in, for both of your sakes.

he notices the lull in conversation and his throat starts to close up - his hands feel a little clammy and he realises that he doesn’t want you to leave just yet.

“can i get you another drink?”

your cheeks heat a little as you nod. “sure. i’ll just have another martini,” you say sweetly.

he nods stiffly and flags down the bartender. he doesn’t order a refill for himself, which honestly surprises you.

“are you tapping out for the night?” you joke, motioning to his empty glass with a smirk.

the blond dares to chuckle at your joke, shaking his head. now that you were here, he wanted to remember every second of it and he knew another bottle would breach his usual limit. no, he was very much staying sober from now on.

“a thank you would be nice,” he quips, leaning forward and resting his arms against the table. he steals another glance at you, getting lost in your features as he commits them to memory for the millionth time, afraid of ever forgetting you. he doesn’t realise he’s staring until you clear your throat softly and look towards the bottles of liquor lined up behind the bar.

“thanks...”

“you look nice today,” leon blurts out at the same time as you thank him. he immediately fidgets in his seat, not meaning to speak over you.

whilst leon has complimented you before (nice shot!, you just saved my ass., good work today. ect) this one felt new. it stirred something within you that you had been trying to suppress ever since you first joined the D.S.O. your gaze snaps up to his face and you try to discern his own feelings right now. he was making it difficult though, by refusing to look at you.

“thank you, leon,” you say tenderly.

god, the way you said his name had his mind reeling. he sucks in a sharp breath at your tone, knowing he was fighting a losing battle by trying to stay on his side of the line.

“sorry..i-” what was he even apologising for?

you cut him off by placing a hand on his arm as an attempt at reaching out to leon, hoping he’ll meet you halfway. his cornflower eyes flicker up to yours in surprise and you can see his lashes fluttering as he figures out what to say next.

“there’s this new vietnamese restaurant that opened up near my place. i’ve been meaning to go recently but i’ve always been away on missions...”

his eyes visibly soften and he relaxes as he realises what you’re doing.

“oh really?” he breathes, daring to glance at your lips for a fraction of a second. this doesn’t go unnoticed by you and you smile.

“yeah. i was thinking of going tomorrow actually. around 7.”

after a pause, leon nods.

“maybe you’re right. fate did bring us together tonight.”

you bite back a laugh, taking another sip of your martini.

about me. 

[moonshine-nightlight]

Nothing's Wrong with Dale - Part Twenty-Three

It’s been a week, but you’re fairly certain your fiancé accidentally got himself replaced by an eldritch being from the Depths. Deciding  that he’s certainly not worse than your original fiancé, you endeavor to keep the engagement and his new non-human state to yourself.

However, this might prove harder than you originally thought.

Fantasy, arranged marriage, malemonsterxfemalereader, M/F

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/41189829/chapters/118476739

Warnings: Violence and Death (nothing too graphic, but its prevalent enough I wanted to mention it)

[Part One][Part Two] [Part Three] [Part Four] [Part Five] [Part Six] [Part Seven] [Part Seven.5] [Part Eight] [Part Nine][Part Ten] [Part Eleven] [Part Twelve]  [Part Thirteen] [Part Fourteen] [Part Fifteen] [Part Sixteen] [Part Seventeen] [Part Eighteen] [Part Nineteen] [Part Twenty] [Part Twenty-One] [Part Twenty-Two] Part Twenty-Three [Part Twenty-Four] [Part Twenty-Five] [Part Twenty-Six] [Part Twenty-Seven] [Part Twenty-Eight] [Part Twenty-Nine] [Part Thirty] [Part Thirty-One] [Part Thirty-Two] [Part Thirty-Three] [Part Thirty-Four]

But time is slipping through your fingers. You make your decision and pray it’s the right choice. 

“Dale!”

There’s a second of silence before muffled confusion is evident from the hallway on the other side of the door followed quickly by pounding footsteps. Vi spares you a glare, but Clen seems unconcerned, merely readying his crossbow.

The door bursts open before anything else can happen and you can’t help but flinch as it hits the wall.

Framed in the doorway is an alert and worried Dale, his mouth in a hard frown and his hand already on the hilt of his sword. You watch as his eyes land on the four strangers arrayed in front of him. He draws his sword before he unerringly finds you and the unconscious Grandmother. That’s when fury ignites in his eyes.

“What is happening here?” Dale asks, his voice outraged as he takes stock of the situation. 

“Northridges simply enjoy asking after the obvious, do they not?” Clen asks Lasky before looking back to Dale. He lifts his crossbow and aims directly at you. Instantly you tense, ready to drop to your knees and out of range behind the heavy wooden desk. You freeze where you are because that would leave Grandmother a free target. “This is a kidnapping, your lordship. If you don’t cooperate with us, your fiance and grandmother are forfeit. Surrender now. Prove yourself more intelligent than the rest of your ilk.” 

Keeping your dagger in your strong hand, you grope blindly on the desk for something to use as a shield, cursing yourself for not thinking of grabbing such a thing earlier. As your fingers close around the ink mat, a sturdy leather mat to absorb any ink that might seep through when writing, your eyes meet Dale’s. You can almost see a cold certainty enter them before they slide back to Clen.

“No. You may surrender or run,” Dale retorts. “I’ll not go with you nor will I allow you to continue to threaten my kin.”

“Oh, lordling,” Lasky coos, “You’ve barely begun to hear threats. Wait until you learn of my plans for your spouse-to-be. Not that you will continue to live for much longer, but I doubt you’d still wish to marry after I’m through.” 

You swallow down bile and hope Dale hurts him.

Dale growls, a dark, rolling sound that fills the room. You shiver, feeling it resonate through you, and quickly check to see that Grandmother has not yet awoken. The mixture of concern and relief that fills you at that fact doesn’t help any of your nerves settle, not that you expect them to for several days—provided you live that long.

“Do not—” Clen warns before cutting himself off with a curse as Dale charges. He manages a single shot in your direction before he’s forced to meet Dale’s sword with his own. The shot is still good enough that it hits your makeshift shield of an ink mat. The arrowhead pierces through the leather to scrape your arm and knock it back, but it doesn’t make it any further than that through the mat.

The clatter of the crossbow hitting the floor is nearly masked by the shouts and grunts as Clen, Vi, and Lasky begin fighting with Dale. Your eyes find Two, but he’s watching the fight, not you. Dale has managed to get his back to a wall, limiting his opponents ability to surround him. They’re appearing to have trouble ganging up on him without hitting each other, limiting their approach. 

With no better opportunity, you place your dagger down on the desk and open the closet door. You grasp the back of the chair Grandmother is on and begin tugging it is in towards the closet. You choose to keep your eyes forward towards the fight instead of putting yourself between Grandmother and the action. Hopefully if you see anything coming your way, you can intercept it before she gets further hurt. 

The chair is heavy, but you’re terrified, especially since you no longer have even your thin dagger in hand. The adrenaline seems to help as you drag the chair across the rug, grateful at least there’s no sound to alert the others to what you’re doing. The three assassins currently trying to fight Dale seem to have fallen into a pattern, with Clen engaging Dale’s sword and Vi trying to get at him with her spear from the side, herding him towards the opening in the wall to another side room. Lasky waits in that room, a seemingly endless supply of knives in his hands.

True to your suspicions, both Clen and Lasky seem to have some sort of  demonic enhancement to themselves or their weapons, although they remain clearly unpossessed. Clen has a strength to his movements that matches Dale’s own while Lasky’s daggers seem to come back to his sheaths when they miss. You eye the knife lodged in Dale’s leg and wonder if it's a good thing they don’t pull out to return when stuck.

You cross the threshold into the closet and have to focus on maneuvering in the much tighter space. It seems to primarily hold cabinets for files which you realize once you back into an ornate handle. It’s at a perfect height to jab painfully into your neck and prevent you from pulling the chair the final few inches into the closet.

You side-shuffle out from between the cabinet and the chair, mind racing as you check if the chair even will fit. The top of it is just under the height of the handle so you think you can manage it. You scoot around in front of the chair, a nervous glance over your shoulder to see the fight still raging, a confusing knot of bodies and weapons that you can’t make heads or tails of except that Dale is still holding his own. 

Kneeling down, you lift the front legs of the chair off the ground so they can get over the higher board marking the entrance to the closet and heave. After a few seconds of straining which feel like an eternity,  the chair finally moves those last few inches, thudding into the back cabinet and fully crossing over the threshold into the closet. You set the chair down, trying not to dwell on how it’s likely a bad sign that Grandmother hasn’t woken up for any of this movement.

You get to your feet, glad you’d pushed the chair towards the middle of the closet even before you’d realized how shallow it is. That leaves room on either side for you to fit in. Unfortunately it means that it’ll take too long to turn the chair around and try to wedge it against the door. Or maybe that’s a good thing because your hands are shaking and your palms sting where the wood of the back and legs had dug into your palms. You half close the closet door as you turn around. You're even more nervous now, after having your eyes off the fight for so long. You need to see if there’s anything nearby that might work as a wedge instead and check on the fight.

Dale seems to have gotten more room to breathe, the others all pushed back, but he’s in that doorway, with little at his back to guard it. Lasky takes advantage of that space before Dale can, sending a series of knives flying at him. Dale deflects two and dodges the other two. Unfortunately, with Lasky on the other side of Dale from you, you realize with a jolt of terror that sends the dodged knives in your direction.

One lodges into the desk, but the other flies just over it. You try to move out of the way and you manage—mostly. The knife lodges solidly in the closet door and through your skirts, pinning them in place. 

“Darkest damn—” You can’t help but let a minced oath out as you frantically begin pulling on your skirts, trying to get free. How the knife was sharp enough to pierce the fabric of your skirts but not enough to rip them now is proving nearly as frustrating as it is terrifying. 

You glance back at the fight and your eyes meet Lasky’s. Desperately, you reach for the knife hilt instead while your other hand fumbles to pick your own dagger up again. You swallow when you notice Lasky is indeed circling the fight, heading for you. You grip the hilts of both daggers so hard the little imperfections on then dig into your palms.

You point your own in the direction of Lasky’s approach while continuing to tug futilely on the dagger pinning you in place. Nothing you do seems to budge it and your hand keeps slipping off given how much you're sweating. You give up on pulling and start to simply shove at the hilt with the palm of your hand. 

“Did I pin a pretty little butterfly?” Lasky asks. He’s got another dagger in his hand, but he comes to a stop a few feet from you.

You keep your eyes on him, but don’t answer, giving the hilt of the dagger another strike with your palm. You feel it wiggle and wrap your fingers around it. If you can move, you don’t want him to know in case the element of surprise will help. 

At the same time, where can you go? Or rather, can you afford to leave grandmother? She’s hidden now, but if one of these assassins decides they need her or just wants revenge when the inevitable becomes clear. Dale is the only one here who you know will walk away from this fight. Whether everyone else, including yourself and Grandmother, will is still to be determined. 

“Did I nick your tongue too?” he taunts. “Do not pretend to misunderstand what your role is. Your little lord is proving more of a challenge than we expected, especially since Two isn’t helping.” 

You think he grimaces at that, but it’s hard to tell with his mouth covered. Still, for all his taunts, he’s clearly strung a lot tighter than he had been before. Good. 

“So you are going to help bring him to heel, as intended.” He flips the dagger in his hand in a deliberate move to show off. You chance a glance behind him to see Dale finally pushed into the side room and out of your line of sight. You’re certain the idea that you did manage to make eye contact with him is just false hope. You have to figure out how to get out of this yourself. And right now, running isn’t an option.

“You are not going to win this,” you reply, your voice a little rough, but still intelligible and not obviously full of fear, hopefully. “You should leave.”

He takes a step closer instead. “Just because he didn’t immediately fold, doesn’t mean he will triumph,” Lasky corrects, some anger coloring his voice. “He’s outnumbered and once Two remembers why they’re here, he’ll be outclassed.”

“Then should you not be aiding your companions?” you ask, trying to tug on the dagger with as little obvious movement of your arm as possible. Anything to keep from drawing Lasky’s attention to what you’re doing.

The lines by his eyes crinkle, he must be smiling under that mask. You feel more dread pool in your stomach. “Do you not see? That is what I’m doing. For all your threats, you’re no real match for me and while I still do not have any rope, I’m just as capable as taking out an eye as you are, if not more so. You need to remember who you are dealing with and surrender.”

A noise from behind—something heavy crashing into the wall and possibly a bookcase given the cacophony that follows—draws both your attention. Unfortunately, Lasky refocuses just as quickly as you do and so you’re still in a stalemate, both holding daggers, but truly, there isn’t a contest here. There is no question who will this fight, just what the collateral damage could be.

You hate this. You hate everything about this situation, from the fighting and Grandmother’s condition, to Dale in a fight against multiple opponents. Most of all you hate this man in front of you.  But what can you do?

Another smash and thud sounds from behind Lasky, but he doesn’t bother turning to look this time, just takes another step closer. He steps to the side, blocking your sight-line to the rest of the fight although not before you see a figure thrown across the room. You can’t even hope to identify who.

With another step, you give up on the pretense and give a final pull. This time the dagger is freed from the wall and you take a stumbling step down along it, away from Lasky. You hastily bring that knife up to bare as well, holding one in each hand. You’ve had no training in the use of two daggers or even much training at all with your non-dominant hand. 

It’s clear Lasky knows that too, his confidence is obvious. The secondary reason for that becomes evident when the knife in your hand that belongs to him starts to tug. You’d thought if you were holding it, it wouldn’t try to return to him, like when it had been stuck in the wall, but apparently that’s not true. It fights your grip, attempting to go to Lasky and into its sheath on his arm like the others had.

You hold on tight, not wanting him to be further armed even if you don’t know how to wield it well yourself. He takes another step forward and you take another to the side. You notice that he’s steering you away from the relative safety the desk might have afforded you. The only good thing is that he seems to have completely forgotten about the fight going on behind him. Unfortunately, whenever you move to compensate, he blocks your own view. 

Finally he breaks the stalemate you’ve been locked in and rushes forward. You hastily stumble backwards along the wall, unwilling to give up the, perhaps false, feeling of safety it gives you. He slashes at you with his greater reach and you try to dodge, but you can feel his strike connected. Luckily, between the fabric of your dress and the manner in which the corset is boned you’re not pierced or cut by the blade. However, on his pull back, he catches your arm, slicing it and leaving a hot line of pain on your underarm that makes you cry out.

Your mind spins as the attack throws off your balance. You try to ignore the drip of blood down your arm, the sting of the cut, and the satisfaction in his eyes. Your palms are sweatier than ever and you have to focus on not trembling. The pull from his own dagger has only gotten stronger. With half an idea in your head about that, you kick out, slashing with your dagger more in the hopes of gaining back even a foot of space. 

It works, you catch some part of him, and he curses as he takes a step backward. “Would you simply stay—”

You lower your center mass and just as he raises his arm for a stab from above, attempting to use his height to get at your throat or chest, you release your grip on his dagger. In such close quarters, it doesn’t have time to turn or aim effectively. Given the strength it had been pulling at, it’s out of your hand like it was shot from a slingshot. Between your attempt at aiming and Lasky’s own speed, it misses its sheath entirely. The blade sinks into his armpit instead and he screams in pain.

Lasky’s fingers release the dagger held in that arm as his other hand clutches at the knife now embedded in him. You don’t waste any time standing there, immediately retreating, trying to find somewhere else to go, somewhere else to hide—anything to keep him away from you.

Should you go for the courtyard? Two’s no longer guarding that door—at least as far as you can tell, who knows if he needs to be near it to stop you from leaving. You feel a pang of guilt and regret for no longer staying to guard Grandmother, but with Lasky specifically focused on you and no real way to hold him off, you’re no use to her except to distract from her. The closet door was slammed shut so hopefully these assassins will just forget she’s even there. 

You head back towards where you came from originally, where Lasky’s been herding you. Hopefully you can find some of the Governor’s guards—or anyone, really. You sloppily knock over any chairs, ottomans, side tables you come across—anything to slow down your pursuer as you go. A wild, likely foolish part of you wants to run towards Dale. For all the fight still raging, and him already dealing with multiple opponents, you know he’d try to protect you. But your presence would just make his fight harder. Right?

“You bitch,” Lasky’s voice is ragged with pain and you hear his heavy footfalls getting closer as you round a short couch. “Get—” Whatever words he was going to say next are cut off by a thump and a wet gurgle. Unable to help it, you turn around.

Lasky’s already much closer than you expected, his eyes wide with surprise as he looks down at the raw spike of iron protruding from his chest. You identify it as a fireplace iron and look beyond him to see Dale’s back disappearing from the doorway.

A gasping cough brings your focus back to Lasky in time to see him collapse over the back of the couch and stop moving. You pant where you stand, feeling staggered by the sudden absence of an immediate threat. You can’t dwell on Lasky’s death, you can barely process your gratitude to Dale—there's only relief that Lasky’s not capable of hurting you anymore. 

Should you return to Grandmother? You hadn’t actually gotten that far with how messy the room is. Hide in that closet to defend her if need be? Hadn’t you just proved how ineffective you’d be at such a task? You got in one good blow that was more accident than anything and still needed Dale to—. 

You hesitate and absently use your dagger to finish a cut made to the fabric of your dress. You take the strip of cloth and wrap it around your bleeding arm. The sudden pressure on the wound makes you flinch and grit your teeth against the renewed pain. 

Just as you secure that makeshift bandage in place and resolve to leave to find help, Vi comes running full speed out of the side room. You know the moment she spots you because she changes direction, heading for you. Immediately, you try to run for the door, but she anticipates your movement. She runs around wide, blocking that as a viable exit. 

Without thought, you turn, heading back the way you came and for the courtyard. She’s fast though, faster than you with her sturdy boots and training while your skirts and soft shoes only slow you down. She catches you just before the desk and closet you’d started this mad dash from.

A side hit from the spear bruises your side and you cry out as you are spun around. There’s desperation in her eyes as Vi lunges to cover that last few feet between you. She slams you back against the wall, her spear shaft across your throat. Your wrists too are pinned up in the skilled maneuver. Her wide, terrified eyes bore into yours. “What the fuck is he? You’re going to—”

The clash of metal on metal followed by a wet cough and a triumphant growl from the other room cuts her off. You only try to wrestle her for control briefly. You’re no match for her strength. Instead, you try desperately to wriggle your hands free, trying only to get more room to breathe. Your head is tilted back, your throat throbbing as she fixes her gaze back on yours. You try to say something, you don’t even know what, but she doesn’t give you a chance.

“They lied, he’s not human,” she spits. “He’s a skinwere.” It’s clear Dale’s revealed enough of himself that she knows he’s possessed, not enhanced. Another word for a possessed human is a demon wearing human skin or skinwere for short. It’s a very negative term and you think she might be local—you’ve heard that term used more in Northridge than even at school. No wonder she’s scared out of her mind. 

She must be able to tell you’re not surprised by the news because her eyes narrow, “You knew.” It’s not a question, but you can’t speak or even move your head to answer anyway. She doesn’t seem to need you to. 

She pushes against you with her spear, completely cutting off your air before she pulls back enough to let you speak. You cough, gulping in air as she orders, “Tell me how to kill it. Tell me—”

Before she can make any more demands, you drop your whole body down heavily. There was enough space now between the spear and the wall to let you, although it still wrenches your wrists and hands painfully. Your head hits the wall as you tilt it back to allow the movement.

Wrists and head hurting from the spear, backside throbbing from smacking into the ground as a dead weight, you’re moving before you can think about it. Crawling around her legs on your hands and knees. You scurry towards anything that can be perceived as safe. The sound of something heavy being flung into the wall makes you flinch.

A heavy blow to your back makes you yelp, collapsing onto your stomach. “You’re not going anywhere,” Vi snarls, the butt of her spear, pressing down with insistent force. “Not until—”

The pressure abates abruptly and you turn on your side to see something long and black around her wrist, pulling her weapon off of you. Your vantage point, combined with your throbbing head, makes it hard to follow all the action, but it looks like a black snake that Vi tries to tug off with a yell. 

She draws a knife with her free hand to strike the black thing, but the crack of bone breaking causes her to scream as her spear drops from her limp hand. It falls harmless to the floor. You manage to pick it and throw it far away. You know she’d be more capable of taking it from you than you would be at wielding it.

Vi finally looks behind her, following where the solid shadow stretches from and screams at whatever she sees. You only see another long dark ribbon of tangible blackness wrap around her neck before she’s pulled backwards with a strangled sound. She disappears out of your sight. 

Another thwack and gasping whimper make you wince, paralyzed on the floor, mind unable to decide what to do next. 

You hear footsteps heading for you accompanied by a tap of wood on wood. Then you hear a worried, “Sana?” 

Relief floods your body and you desperately need to see Dale, to reassure yourself that despite the horrible clashes and yells, the violence and the destruction, he’s whole. No matter what he must look like given what you’ve seen and how his voice still has an echoing, deep quality to it. You brace yourself on your palms to push yourself up. Opening your mouth to answer him, you’re interrupted by a crack before you can.

“I knew it,” an unfamiliar voice meets your ears. It has a strange, otherworldly grit to it and you freeze instantly. “How all these other humans are so blind, I’ve no notion.”

Dale hisses, “Hide,” before you hear him move away from you and towards the voice. You follow his suggestion, too cowed by the return of the threat to want to do anything else. Half crawling and half dragging your tired body, you tuck yourself under the heavy wooden desk.

“As though you are a paragon of subtlety,” Dale snaps back. He’s clearly nearly in that other side room once more, but his voice carries more than perhaps he’s even aware. 

“Ah,” the voice concedes, the sound carrying just as easily. Is that a demon power? you wonder with only slight delirium, projecting your voice? “ But I am not trying to be. Neither of us are.”

“Us?”

“Yes,” a far more human voice replies this time. “Us.” The two voices overlay on that word before the more inhuman voice continues, “We are not all so rude as to kick out the original owner. Some of us know what it is to share.”

You realize it’s Two, who has apparently decided to finally enter the fight and who’s strange nickname suddenly makes a lot more sense.

“I care not how many of you are fitted in that body,” Dale replies. “You’ll do no more harm here. You’ll not fulfill your mission.”

“Perhaps,” the casual menace of this voice is not intimidated by Dale’s confidence or orders. “Or perhaps there is simply more to be gained and less to be shared.”

Dale must see no more reason in talking because there is only the sound of movement and metal after that. Grunts sound from all three voices, perhaps more distinct given your inability to see and only to hear. They’re not enough to tell you who’s winning and you’ve no notion of how Dale stands in contest with another actual demon. Neither are likely attempting to hide their natures, but is that an advantage to one or the other? Or a wash?y

Does the Two being both help or hinder them? They had also implied that Dale was not sharing his own form, which meant the human who had been Dale was gone, didn’t it? Neither of them are mentioning Clen, so is he dead too? What sort of creature was the demon in Two? You know demons vary wildly, even the intelligent ones, in a manner far greater than humans did, what if this one was more powerful than Dale? 

It feels like ages of simply listening, though in reality is likely only a minute or two. You can’t take knowing so little about what is happening. You hesitantly move forward and cautiously kneel up to see just over the surface of the desk. 

They’re indeed still in the other room, moving so fast you can hardly tell who’s who. Front he glimpses you catch, neither of them are in forms that are entirely human anymore. Part of the fight seems almost mundane, the swords meeting and breaking apart as they circle, engaging and dodging stabs and slashes. The shadows in the room move unnaturally and at least two seem to be even more independent than that. They whip around Dale to meet and deflect animate stonework, colored grayish-green with a rusty red shot through it. The rock seems both to come from the columns and walls of the room beyond, despite looking nothing like ones in this room, and from nothing at all.

Your heart is nearly in your throat as Dale’s shadows seem as if they would be far weaker than something so sturdy. A big chunk of stone falls from the ceiling causing Dale to need to dodge to the side. He catches Two’s sword stroke awkwardly as a result. A clatter reveals that he’s been disarmed. His sword sent flying from his hand to land behind Two. 

Dale retaliates with a riot of shadows which erupt between them and forces Two back. It also nearly leaves them out of sight of the doorway and you straining to follow what’s happening. Dale’s back is to you and only half his body visible, while Two’s nearly on the other side of that room. From what you can tell he’s beginning to resemble a statue more than a person, if a moving one.

“I believe you’re unarmed now,” Two says with a smirk.

“I do not need a weapon to be armed,” Dale snarls, the shadows of the room flickering dizzyingly. His entire body seems more amorphous than ever before. You think he looks taller than he typically is, but thinner too. The arm you can see is oddly shaped, as if it is bare but also, more like a medical mannequin from class—bone and muscle with no fat to be seen. He brandishes his hand to better display the black claws he now has. In fact, you’re certain he’d been wearing a green suit earlier, but it’s black now too. Even his dark hair is even darker, untied and wild, longer than it should be. 

You keenly appreciate Dale’s rebuttal, but you still hate that his sword is gone from his hand while one remains in Two’s. They shift their stance and you automatically try to compensate with your position to keep your view. You bump into a lamp that’s been knocked to the floor.

As you push it to the side, something on the ground catches your attention. You peek around the edge of the desk to get a better look and very deliberately don’t look too closely at Vi’s body, only a few yards away. Instead you focus on the long, thin piece of polished wood instead. Dale’s cane. 

Instantly, you know you need to get this to Dale and more than that, you want to do something, anything to help him. Carefully, you put your hands down on the cold stone floor to steady yourself. Then you move just far enough out from behind the desk to grasp the foot of the cane and pull it towards you. 

You grasp it firmly in your hands and peer back over the top of the desk, checking to make sure that Dale’s still the one closest to the doorway. 

Once you see that he is, you call out, “Dale!” Then you lean up high on your knees and throw the cane like you’ve seen others throw a javelin. It soars through the air and into the further room where Dale and Two are tangled in a confusing knot of shadow and stone. 

They break apart at the sound of your voice and Dale leaps backwards as if propelled by some of the shadows under him. A hand, black, like he’s wearing gloves or dunked his arm in ink, and clawed, snatches the cane out of the air with careful precision. You think you see the glint of a blue eye on the back of his hand, practically the only color standing out against his form now.

“Will that do you any good?” Two asks, seemingly curious more than anything as he watches Dale hold the cane. You can’t tell if his lack of anger over this fight, the way he keeps treating it like a tournament fight for entertainment, is a good thing or not.

Dale says nothing, merely twists the handle. He carefully pulls off the wood to reveal a long green rapier.

“Jade,” Two hisses, taking a full step back. “A dangerous weapon for one such as ourselves to wield.”

“All weapons are dangerous,” Dales replies brusquely. “Humans regularly use weapons as deadly to themselves as they are to their enemies.”

“How adaptable. All the shade in your nature, I presume,” Two says, a mocking edge to his tone.

“You are not the only one who can use stone to their advantage,” Dale bats back as easily. 

Two lets out a bark of laughter and the sound seems to come from far more than two mouths, let alone one. You would give nearly anything for him to never do that again. “It has been so long since I spoke with one of us with intelligence still left to them up here. The sunlight seems to drive too many insane. Almost a shame to kill you.”

“A good thing then,” Dale says as he charges, “that you will not.”

The visibility of the fight becomes impossible after that. There’s too much movement from shadows and they move further into the room. You’re back to primarily trying to gauge the fight based on sound alone: thuds and crashes and ripping that you can’t identify.

“So close. But perhaps you are correct,” it’s the human voice this time, panting but not demoralized. Some of the sight line clears and you see Two hunched over, a hand on their chest. “I shall not be able to kill you nor collect the bounty so generously placed on your head.” They pick up their head, “However, the knight had the correct idea.” 

“Yes,” the grating demonic voice picks up and they slowly straighten. “I’m certain you must have supplies or books worth perusing. I can tell your form is impeccable underneath, despite your essence spilling out. This body, with him intact, still gets a bit stiff if I’m not careful. I shall be intrigued to ascertain how you accomplished such a thing.”

“You think I will allow you to leave?” Dale hisses. “After all you’ve done.” He throws a hand out to emphasize the general state of destruction around them.

Two laughs and it's one of the most unsettling things you’ve ever heard. It has a screech to it that makes your skin crawl. You are resisting the urge to cover your ears or yell yourself in order to drown him out when he looks over and meets your eyes. His dirty red eyes, the color of dried blood, bore into yours across the distance and he rushes for you.

He crosses the distance faster than he should be able to you and there’s a ripple in the walls that seems to respond to him. Panic seizes your heart and mind as you instinctively dive back down and under the desk. Your hands desperately latch onto and drag a broken ottoman to cover the open part of the desk.

Curling up behind it, you feel something slam into the makeshift shield, pushing you and the desk back, the wood squealing against the floor as it moves. A wordless roar comes from further away and another crash echoes through the room. The sound of what you think are books falling to the floor and a heavy grunt follow.

Then, silence.

You cough a few seconds later, unable to help it due to all the dust the stone moving has kicked up. You think you hear a smothered groan while you attempt to stop, but you stay rooted in your hiding spot, waiting.

After another dull thump, Dale calls your name. His voice is still strange and yet you can hear the confusion and worry in it. You can hear a lot more than that actually. Your eyelids flutter despite being unable to see anything other than dust and dingy wood. 

Your name sounds different than when he’s said it in the past. There is a depth to it, meaning below the surface that you can hear when he’s like this. Like emotion and inflection and neither of those. 

There’s a layer of softness, of imagery that it conjures up, that you can almost feel through his voice. Of gentle sunlight through the window on a clear day. Your favorite chair and the taste of fresh, sweet honey melting on your tongue, soothing and comforting. Its respect and harmony and the potential to be more than you are alone, of joining and of belonging. Tension leeches from you in waves, like taking off so many heavy coats to stand unburdened. You want to drown in the sensation, you want to hear him say nothing, but your name for the rest of your life.

You want to come out, to go to him, regardless of what you might see. Hesitantly, you push the ottoman away and start to crawl out from beneath the desk. Shakily, you stand up and turn to face Dale.

To your surprise, he looks far more human than the glimpses you’d gotten of him during the fight. His eyes still glow unnaturally and his hair is too long and wild. He’s roughly the correct height again with no too tangible shadows or extra eyes, though you’re not looking at his hands on purpose. His skin for the most part is a shade of human coloring once more. He doesn’t seem to be bleeding either, no obvious large wounds or injuries. 

You can’t handle a direct conversation about his nature now, not after all of this, and so you look beyond him to assess the rest of the situation, although you can tell by a feeling in the air that Two is gone.

The room beyond him does look as though the bookcase closest to you had been tipped over or thrown towards the desk, but Dale is standing in such a way as to suggest he’d caught it before it fell. His free hand is also held open in a gesture towards the wall behind you, where you can see large bricks of rock have come loose, though not enough to threaten the integrity of the wall itself.

You meet his eyes once again and he finally relaxes, shoulders drooping as you both stand in the aftermath. Then he’s striding forward and the cool fingers of his free hand grip your chin as he examines you.

“I am fine,” you say, which would probably be more convincing if you couldn’t feel tears dripping down your cheeks. His eyes rake up and down your form, obviously trying to assess that for himself before finally settling back on your face once he’s done. 

Something that might be relief starts to spread over his face until he freezes. He withdraws his hand abruptly from your face, tucking it behind him with a speed you don’t bother to try to match. Instead you resist the urge to sway towards, wanting his touch once more as it had felt grounding.

Then he blinks, his eyes darting around the room with renewed concern. “Where?” Dale asks.

After a second of confusion, you realize who he’s asking after. Your hand closes around the door handle for the closet and you pull the door open to reveal a still unconscious Grandmother hidden away safely.

You grab one arm of the chair and Dale the other as you pull it out from the closet. You don’t even care that he’s clearly doing the majority of the work. It takes a second before you can see her chest moving with her breathing. 

“Grandmother will be too,” you say, not sure who you’re trying to convince more.

“Good,” Dale says. He carefully brings a human thumb to wipe away your tears with a tenderness that does not match the danger that lingers in the way he still holds himself. You can’t help but lean into his touch, the safety he offers, if only to you. “It would only be worse for them if you were not.” His eyes slide to Grandmother’s unconscious form and menace seems to drip from his voice. “It shall be bad enough for them as it is.” 

You jump at the sound of a door opening, looking past Dale to see two of the governor’s guards walk in. They stop, gaping in the doorway.

Dale straightens, ignoring the reinforcements that have finally shown up. He doesn’t respond to Grandfather’s concerned voice calling his name and Grandmother’s and even your own. His head swivels to the direction of the courtyard, where Two went.

Fear grips your heart and your hand lands on his forearm, “No.” He doesn’t look back at you either. He gently, but inexorably pulls out of your grasp. You can’t stop him, you know that you can’t, but you can’t stand the thought of him leaving, of him pursuing this threat. “No. Dale. Don’t go after him!”

He ignores you, jade rapier in hand, and runs out into the courtyard.

“Damn you,” you say, voice tight as you try to stop more tears from welling up. What if he’s found out? What if Two can do more to hurt him? What if there are others in wait and he’s outnumbered? What if—? You wipe your eyes more harshly than perhaps you need to as you force yourself to focus on what you can do, who you can help.

While the other guards race to follow Dale, Grandfather hurries across the room to be on the other side of the chair, calling Grandmother’s name. You can feel her breathing, but you need to see if her heart is in trouble. You check her pulse as you tell him, “We need a doctor. Now.”

[Part Twenty-Four]

[callsigns-haze]

Pretty like a crime

Chapter 13

Pairing: Agent Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x Singlemom! Agent Y/n 'Cobra' Y/l/n

Summary: Cobra is finally back on the agency and is finally back in the job. With Kai at home she has to jumble being a mother and a agent. She's sent to her first U.C mission but never thought that she would meet a blonde, green eyed Texan...

Warning: Mentions of gun use, ptsd, mentions of death, mentions of shooting, flirting, mentions of abuse, description of dead body, death, blood, undercover work, alcohol use, smut, kissing

Prologue/ Part 1/ Part 2/Part 3/ Part 4/ Part 5/ Part 6/ Part 7/ Part 8/ Part 9/ Part 10/ Part 11/ Part 12

As Bradley entered the floor of your and Jake shared apartment, he slowly and calmly walked over to your door. He stands on the pretty and neat welcome mat, knocking on the door but it opens himself with a creek. It was like one of those murder horror movies when a victim enters a haunted house.

He quickly calls out for you and pushes the door open to find broken glass, shattered mirrors and vases and a lot all over the place. With this he took off in, pulling out his gun and scanning the area as he entered. This was like another crime scene, just without all the tape and flashing lights but the splashes of blood and bloody handprints coated the hall. He looks around more, entering the living room to see more of a mess and a puddle of blood. From behind the couch it was as if he couldn't believe his eyes, there was a fallen body with a hand sticking out. It was Cobra.

He rushes as fast as he could over to you, dropping his gun as he plants himself beside you. He sees that you've got a strike to the head and suffered from a big fall. He slips his arms beneath you and lifts your body. "Shit Cobra! Please wake up!'

Before he could do anything he felt a vicious pain to the back of his head and he began to fall backwards. The world went dark as he passed out.

------

As Bradley began to gain back consciousness, his head hurt him more than life could tell. His head was throbbing, ears were ringing and eyes were blurred from whatever possible.

He tried to move forward but it became clear that he was tied with restraint to a chair, he could recognise he was tied by heavy metal chains to a possible pole.

He was becoming more conscious with every second. Sounds finally became familiar, he could finally make out words and accents. He could make out that a woman and man were in a tense conversation. Their voices seemed familiar but he couldn't make them out just yet.

His eyes only slowly began functioning and as they did his gaze fell upon Jake and Cobra in front of him with weapons pointed at him.

"Long nap you took there, Rooster." Jake's face was coated with a non human, not the one that you'd see him have in the bar at darts or pool games. This was a smirk of a psychopath.

"You were-" Bradley couldn't even finish the sentence as he looks upon you as you tilt your head to the side. You're eyes hawk him, your lips tightly shut only opening at these words, "Well Bradshaw, you wouldn't fall for such trap without proper bait, huh?"

Trap. This was all a trap. To Bradley this all didn't add up but for you and Jake this was a mischievous plan that was founded just as you turned fifteen. Once your fifteenth birthday occured, you were drawn into a missionary project for the mission force. Code X4z6, it was a plan to finally free all members of the old labour mission force but living up to one codex, no witnesses, no survivors.

You were introduced to this project as you turned fifteen and the other young person tested in these actions was Jake. The two of you were forced to train together and get your brains working rather the same way. You two where thought to stratergise together, shoot together and even murder together.

You were put to a test of eliminating one of the biggest threats to this plan. The Chevaliers. The Chevaliers where a style of mafia family that lived in France, and they were a rather huge threat. This plan could tople because of them so it was your and the original 1986 mission team to think of a plan.

They came up with a plan for you to casually meet one of the Chevaliers sons and gain his trust but you gained more than just that, you gained his heart. You made him fall head over heals for you and he would never know that this was some sick manipulation.

The idea was to kill off all the Chevaliers but for them to get you into the true circle of trust, it would've taken years so the best you could do is marry the closest son, Matthew. The plan that Jake came up with is to keep discreet, make the marriage longer than expected and then slither in and chose violence and venom but you are beaten to death.

Emma, well Olivia was seeking revenge and was on a elimination track to murder the family and you were on her side, and well it killed off the main Chevalier.

But truly you never loved Matthew, you fell head over heals for Jake and you only ever loved him. You married Jake illegally and went to him every weekend to talk out the plan and how everything was progressing and that's when the two of you made love.

Matthew never knew about Kai and good, Kai was Jake's son. He had Jake's features and eyes and he himself knew that Jake was his real daddy but just preferred to call him Jakey. Like I was saying this was all a stage act.

Olivia managed to kill Joris and paralyzed Etienne meaning he seemed revenge kidnapping her daughter. She asked you for help and you did because after all for years you planned to kill him. You helped her and after all she did bring a mess and Etienne died by getting shot by his own son Alexandre. Matthew got arrested and Romain just never figured himself out. You heard that Alexandre got back with Olivia but you never truly cared.

Once you came here you were legally divorced from Matthew and could spend your days with the husband you loved, the father of your baby, Jake. He treated you like a queen throughout your whole pregnancy. He pampered you, helped you with everything and was always there. But then he got called down to a mission where he first met the dagger squad during your eight month of pregnancy.

You were scared because you had to give birth to your son alone. Whenever you mention Matthew you always said that indeed he did met Kai because it was his son and raised him but if anyone checked, Matt was at prison at the time so it was all a act again.

And in a quite similar way you explained this to Bradley. He was shocked. The two of you were together all along, married and had a child. Kai was actually Jake's son. "But the dagg-"

Once again cut off. The daggers was an accidental add in. First of all it was never supposed to happen but the elimination plan had to include them since they started working with Bradley and Jake. It was going quite well actually, this plan was never meant to start until Bob got questionary. He asked you about your years outside the mission force and the team you were involved in because it wasn't in any files. When you hesitated to answer, he kept pushing. He had to be eliminated.

You told this to Jake and he took care of it the same night. It was supposed to look like a simple but insolvable murder. So, as Bob was taking out the trash that evening, Jake sneaked up behind him with a napkin full of illegal substances and choked him with them. The fumes are so toxic they can kill, and that's what they did. Well you can put it that Bob was taking the trash out but at the end of the day he was getting taken out in a black bag.

Phoenix was a difficult one. She became accusing and jumpy, too cautious. The day of her shooting, you played the main game. As you were running, you shot a figure, never a specified opposition. And if people around were paying close detail, you had two guns on you that night, the gun you shot her with was an illegal gun and put in the other pocket so when they collected weapons you gave them it from the other pocket so that it wouldn't be recorded.

Payback and Fanboy were the simplest kill, all Jake did was rig their car. All he had to do was switch some cables and parts up so that when the keys were twisted in the ignition, it would literally ignite. And the only thing you got to say is, it worked.

Javy was a difficult murder, maybe since he was a close friend or maybe that the plan was as stupidly hard as impossible to think off. Jake set up a whole deal about killing your ex, well what was meant to be a fight at the start and tagged Javy along with Justin. Earlier Jake set up a automatic machine gun that would set off more than a hundred bullets when the time was right on the clock.

"YOU GUYS ARE MURDERS!" Bradley screaming and trashed in the chains, jumping up and down in his chair but that didn't bring him anywhere, except pain due to the metal.

"We have our reasons!" Jake shouted at him, almost as if he was desperate. He was desperate for some sympathy and understanding but why.

You and Jake did have reasons. You needed Kai to not get involved. A deal that the two of you made is that once these days pass and all evidence is gone, you all disappear and the positive side of that is to raise your son in a world without terrors and murders.  

Remember the gun, the gun your father gave you once he died, well funny story. Your mother was a quite difficult person, and technically this is where things got difficult. Sarah and Tom never had kids, they only took you in. They weren't capable of having kids together, and they met your mother. A tiny bit younger woman who wanted kids.

The three of them made an agreement behind her husband back that her and Tom would sleep together until they had a child and once pregnant that your mother would tell your believed father she was pregnant with his child.

They paid her a lot and each weekend she'd take you out to see them, this was their way of having their own daughter but that stopped. Once your mother died the agreement was forgotten about due to your fake father not knowing that you weren't your kid.

Tom and Sarah missed you and wanted their child back so they called a few of their men and one thing lead to another and they had you again but little did they know your father gave you that gun.

Your father served as a henchman in a sort of way. Back in 1986 he did the dirty work and he had to commit an agent murder, the murder of Goose. That gun was used exactly to kill him and was searched for. And yet a little girl was hiding it years after under some bathroom tiles.

"You see, Bradshaw, we really wish you didn't have to be dragged into this but you're a relation to the 86's and history has to repeat." The words of history repeating struck the brunette, brown eyed man. He looked like he was about to throw up, cry, scream and wail but he just sat there and said. "You killed my father."

"Not us, but the older generation."

Bradley sat there in full shock but didn't understand any of this situation, he finally looked up and stared at the two of you, "Why are you telling me all of this?"

Honestly this seemed weird. Something from a kids show kinda style, you know. The one where the evil villain kidnapped the good and trauma dumps their whole life before trying to kill the good but the hero interrupts just as the elimination process is about to begin.

"Well it be sad if we didn't tell anyone about our marvellous plan we had before you all effected die."

Bradley understood that he was next. He tried to break out from the chains again. Once more jumping up and down in exhaustion. He looked at them in tears in his eyes but Jake couldn't bare it he walked over to you and said, "I can't. Not him, please not me."

"I'll do it, you go to the private jet with Kai and Alfie, I'll meet you there."

He nods and looks at his friend for the last time. I'm all his days he never thought that life would make him to do this. All his life he was the man that made the world burst up in flames and burn to ground but yet alone the flames never hurt you, they never did.

He left and it was just you and Bradley in the room. You stare at him and lift up the gun your father gave you. This was the gun your  fake father used to murder Goose in the exact same situation and here you were going to do that to his son.

You lifted the gun and walked closer. Each step you got closer and closer, you and Bradley never dropped eye contact. You stopped once the gun collided with his chest and you leaned down to kiss his scared and bruised lips, lightly and delicately, "I never meant for this to happen but you understand, it's crazy what you'd do for love." You prep yourself back up and close your eyes pulling the trigger.

You have destroyed the whole world, each step you made you haunted humanity more but once Bradley's heart stopped you thought how Jake always said, he even said it today, that you were the heart beat he never knew he had.

And with that my dear ladies and gentlemen. We've just learned how a 'man' tried to manipulate our little Cobra all her life. He got her stuck in a marriage and a family that everyone would die for. But she didn't die for them. From the age of fifteen she has been plotting her revenge.

She pulled the marriage, the elegance, the act of carrying from the age of eighteen to the age of twenty five. It may have taken her a while but she got back. She avenged her mother, and her do once called 'father,' and got revenge by sticking her teeth in so deep that all that filled the streams of blood was a venom. A venom of revenge.

You've avenged and you have schemed. You tricked the world for your whole life's existence. You have become the MAN. You reached your goal and left no survivors.

Ladies and gentlemen, this was no revenge but simply... A favour. But the real question I'd be asking is... who'll follow in her steps.

To end this series I see how cruelly a friendship would end. In every heroic movie, the hero would sacrifice their friends to save the world, break friendship and lives to save humanity. A villain would destroy the world, ruin it into dust and murder anyone on their way to protect their friends, neither Jake or Cobra knew what role they were playing.

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[wildmtthyme]

Home, Sweet Home

Eight years is a long time. Simon knew he should stay away but betrayal stings and panic drives him to go to the only place that has ever felt like home. The fact that he still knows it makes his chest tighten. The fact that she's still there makes him wilt. The fact that she's still waiting breaks his heart even more.

Or...

Ghost and Johnny need somewhere to hide in Las Almas when the shit hits the fan. If only for the night. Ghost knows where they can go... but it would mean opening the door on a past that he'd walked away from so many years ago.

SFW but slight warning on language and gore? Depictions/descriptions of canon-level injuries. Non-canon injuries. Spanish speaking Ghost. Tumblr only drabble. *I pulled the Spanish from memory so it's rusty, some might be a little wrong but oh well. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

And yes... this is what counts as a drabble for me. -sigh- I might continue this when I have the motivation to.

Soap squinted slightly as he studied Ghost in the fell light of the belly of the carrier they were in, steadily making their way towards the airfield in Mexico. Price’s words over their coms when they were getting ready to leave still making him wonder. You going to be alright going back there, Ghost? And Ghost’s deadpan reply of Yes Sir. That had given him no clue as to what Price had been talking about. He knew that Ghost had history with Mexico as a whole but not with Las Almas in particular. It wasn’t the last time he wondered that on this mission. There were quite a few times he caught the elusive and closed off Lieutenant seeming to slip into an even more stoic sort of thought, gazing off into a distance he couldn’t see himself before he seemed to snap back to this reality and act as if that hadn’t happened.

Simon felt uneasy on Mexican soil, he always would. For a variety of reasons. When they landed in Las Almas… he knew questions were growing in quite a few minds at the familiarity between himself and Rudy. The way the man didn’t just shake his hand. How he clapped his shoulder, giving it a squeeze and saying it’s good to see you again, hermano. Simon had just nodded. He couldn’t reply for the nerves that spiked inside him. Rudy was a part of a life he no longer had. And he didn’t want to answer questions about it. He was hoping he could fly under that particular radar while he was in Las Almas. But when the shit hit the fan… well… he stopped caring about a lot of those nerves.

Soap listened as Ghost guided him through the streets of Las Almas… the darkened alleyways were like a maze to him but Ghost seemed to know them intimately. He led him through twists and turns, guided him along all the while his shoulder screamed at him from the bullet that grazed the muscle. He had no idea where Ghost was leading him… but he didn’t have much of a choice except to follow his cryptic instructions. Shadows were everywhere, looking for both Ghost and himself. Things were going from bad to worse as he heard the screams, the shouts, the citizens of this town taking the fall for his and Ghost’s escape.

Simon knew he shouldn’t… he knew he should get the hell out of town, get to Alejandro’s safe-house. But he couldn’t leave without Soap. And the shot he took to the thigh was slowing him down in the worst possible way. He knew he had to get it out before he could make any kind of trip. Alejandro’s safe-house was a few clicks outside the city and there was no way he was going to make that distance if he was bleeding out the way he was. He knew he shouldn’t. But he did anyway. He slunk through the shadows… guiding Soap through their personal com channel to the same place he was currently approaching. He gave him the final instruction before he snuck up the covered stairway… his gloved hands easing the rug out of the way, shaking his head with a deep frown at the key he found laying there.

How many times had he told her to not hide a key under the bloody mat. He eased the key into the metal door’s lock, at least she kept the bars on the doors and windows; though, she’d hated it when he had them installed. He turned the knob on the interior door and winced when it clicked, seemingly so loud. There weren’t any lights on inside, but that didn’t mean anything. He shut and locked everything behind him… only a foot in and he heard the unmistakable click of a gun, felt the press of a barrel into the side of his damned neck. His eyes cut over and he swallowed down a whole mess of… god… so much. She was just as stunning as he remembered. No… even more so. “Easy with that, love.” Her expression shifted in a heartbeat… from fierce and threatening to stunned. She pulled the gun away, he heard the hammer disengage… the safety click on… and watched as she stepped away from him, nearly staggering back into the small kitchen table that he’d bought for her when they moved in here. Simón… she whispered his name, as if she couldn’t believe it. He stood up fully, his height always imposing. He nodded, looking down at her. His fingers itched with the urge to reach for her. He blinked sharp as he swayed back a half step… her violent shove the reason. The fuck are you doing here! She hissed at him, luckily not yelling. This shit all about you?! Is that why these gringos are fucking around tonight?! He sighed and she just groaned, holding her hand up, that gun still in it as if she were done and walking away from him. His eyes flew down her unbidden… from her worn old T-shirt to her jean cut-offs… she was… so damned beautiful. “Needed somewhere safe to go before heading out of the city.” He found himself murmuring, not because he had to be quiet but because he felt like a damned dog with his tail tucked.

So, you brought this to my door? She had set the gun in a cabinet, shutting it away before shooting him a glare. Eight years and nada… but now, now you decide is time to come home? He clinched his jaw to hold back a sigh… and silence the stab of pain that word caused. Home. His eyes flicked around… the place looked a little different but not by much. Nothing much changed in Las Almas, that much he was learning quickly. “Can we stay here tonight?” He swallowed against a growing lump in his throat. She raised a dark brow at him, her arms folding over her chest, her hip jutting out. We? Who the fuck is we? His sigh slipped past this time… and he saw her immediate response. Her lips pressed into a thin, hard line. He did not want to deal with her attitude right now… his thigh was starting to cramp… and he was sure there was a small pool of blood starting to form under his boot. He was about to answer when he heard Soap through his coms. Metal door, this the place. He heard the echo just behind him and he turned, opening her door even though he heard her go off in a hiss. Pinche-cabron. He eased the metal door open, letting a confused and injured Soap inside.

Johnny glanced at Ghost but immediately saw the woman standing just there past the pass-through to the kitchen in the hall. She looked livid… but kind of not? He wasn’t sure. She looked between him and Ghost once he was inside and the doors were once again locked. Well, this is just great, Simón… now I have two big ass gringos bleeding in my house. She made a sound and waved behind her as she started down the hall away from them. Sit down before you fall down, I’ll get the kit. She muttered to herself, quite a few curse words in Spanish that he recognized as she vanished into the darkness. He looked up at Ghost. “Simon.” He said simply… there was a question in the word but the LT ignored him and limped a little, moving past him and over to the dinning room where he pulled out a chair and eased himself down, letting his leg stretch out.

Simon ignored Soap’s questioning look and the man followed, sitting in the closest chair. He was struggling with a lot in his head at the moment… and her statement reminded him of what he should have thought of in the first place. Soap and him being here put her in very real danger. But in his weakness… his moment of betrayal and panic… he just thought of the one place he could go that was safe. Home. It struck him then that his mind still thought of this place as that. She returned a moment later carrying a first aid kit… she set it down with a snap, her jaw tight as she reached for a box of matches on the table and flicked one to light the candle there. The soft glow was the only light she was affording. She looked at Soap and kicked her chin in his direction. How bad?

Soap watched the woman… she was… a total knockout if he were being honest. Tan skin and dark hair, obviously a native. Beautiful. Long legs… and… he knew his mind was seeking out anything to focus on other than the burning in his arm. Sure, he’d been shot before but it never made it hurt any less. He started working his vest off, wincing slightly around his eyes. “Jus’ a graze, hen… nuthin’ major.” He saw Ghost sit up a little straighter, take in a little more air when he called her ‘hen’… he wanted to smirk, the man giving him a little information without even trying to. She opened the box and pulled out a bottle of alcohol and some gauze, some gauze tape and set it on the table in front of him. And you. He pulled his shirt off, his eyes flicking between what he was doing and her interaction with Ghost, fighting another smirk as she poked the imposing LT in the chest. What has you bleeding on my floor?

Simon looked up at her and saw her brown eyes swimming in worry… worry she was trying to hide. He sighed and shook his head. “Is nuthin’. Jus’ need—” You think you can lie to me? She cut him off with a hardened tone. He sighed again before he froze… feeling her hand under his chin, making him look at her again. You wearin’ this calacas like it’s dia de los Muertos. Like you some dios de los Muertos. She removed her hand and focused back down at the box, sorting through some of the remaining first aid supplies. Take that thing off and answer me, the truth this time. He stilled… his eyes flicking from her to Soap, who was now cleaning the swipe on his arm with a slight grimace around his eyes, but the man had stilled too… his eyes not looking at him but he knew he was focused out of his peripheral. Waiting to see what he was going to do. He swallowed tensely before he spoke. “Can’t do tha’, love. It stays on.” She blinked rapidly before looking at him again, more pointedly this time, her hip shifting as he saw her clinch a muscle in her jaw. She opened her mouth but he hissed. “Es definito.” He spoke firmly, his voice taking on a growl as he held her gaze with that same firmness.

She pursed her lips, rolling around her words no doubt before she dropped some of the first aid supplies down with a slap. You wanna be stubborn, burro. Fine. She snapped at him before she dropped to a knee, hard. Her hands reaching for his belt, he jerked slightly but didn’t move otherwise. Bleeding all over my clean floor, acting all big and bad with your estupido gringo friend… she was muttering at him, he could hear the heat in her words and he flexed his thigh on purpose, the pain keeping his cock from reacting to her close proximity and the fact that he’d always found her even more attractive when she was angry. He pushed his hands down on the chair, letting her jerk his jeans down, quickly tugging his boxers back up into position while she pulled his jeans down to his ankles. He wanted to quip at her but with Soap paying such close attention… he couldn’t. Wasn’t the best idea anyway. She paused when her eyes locked on the wound… he heard her mutter quieter under her breath, still angry… but he couldn’t make out her words anymore.

She rose up onto her knees and tugged a headlamp out of the box, grabbing the bottle of alcohol off the table now that Soap was done with it… some gauze… and started making a proper mess. She cleaned her hands and then doused the wound. His muscle jumped and he clinched his teeth. She pulled the headlamp on and grabbed a pair of forceps from the kit… dipped them into the bottle of alcohol and swirled them around before she slotted herself between his legs, having to climb into the valley created by his jeans. It was… oddly intimate… and he knew it spoke volumes to how close they were… or rather, once were. Soap cleared his throat as he set the tape down, having finished bandaging his arm. Bathroom? “Down tha hall.” They both said in unison and Soap paused over that but otherwise made his way quietly away from them.

Johnny glanced over his shoulder once he was in the hallway… watching as that woman started digging around in Ghost’s leg for the bullet that was no doubt lodged in there. Ghost tensed up… hissed and he saw her set her hand further up on his thigh. Shh, big baby. Ghost chuckled low. Tha hand’s not exactly helpin’, love. She rolled her eyes and continued working. It was clear that they knew each other on a more… intimate level. But how intimate was the question. Was this a girl that Ghost had met while they were here? He hadn’t spent every single moment with the LT while they’d been here. But somehow… it seemed… like an older thing? He wasn’t sure. He went down the hall and found the bathroom, was pretty easy to do since there were only two doors. One to an obvious bedroom and one to a bathroom. He used it and washed his hands before quietly heading back out.

He didn’t return to the dining room though, having walked back into the main living area just in time to hear the sound of metal hitting the tabletop, the bullet rolling a little as it did. He went into the living room instead, settling down slowly onto the couch with a heavy sigh. His bones were tired. He let his eyes lazily move around the room… and they landed on an older style entertainment center… the top of which was littered with clutter. A statue of the Virgin Mary… some candles that weren’t lit… and pictures in cheap gold frames. One he spotted right away, it seemed to jump right out at him. Not because of her… no… but the man with her. He was huge… much larger than she… and he had familiar brown eyes. But the white man with the sandy blonde hair was a stranger otherwise. He had a crooked nose, a scar that bisected both of his lips in a single swipe… another on his chin… but those lips were crooked in a grin. And he was holding her in his lap sitting in the sand on some beach. His eyes moved quicker now, over the photos that held a lot of people he obviously didn’t recognize, until he saw another one with the man. This one was like the clue that cracked a case wide open. He was standing in front of a small chapel… wearing a uniform, younger… and there she was beside him, her dress white, a lace veil around her face, and he had her pulled in under his arm like that was where he always wanted her to be.

Johnny couldn’t help but look over his shoulder at the LT now… and it just clicked. Holy Shit, he thought. This wasn’t just some girl. This was the LT’s wife. No wonder she poked at him… she knew him… in pretty much every way. But… there was a strange distance between them now. Something had happened… something changed between them. Something that made Ghost come here on a plane with him and not come straight here to this apartment. Soap desperately wanted to know what that was… but he knew better than to ask. And frankly, at the moment, he was too damned tired to care.

Simon watched her as she stitched him up… her steady hands and unyielding focus hadn’t changed at all. He couldn’t stop his gloved hand from reaching, brushing some of her hair back behind her shoulder where it had been before it had slid off. She paused, froze for a heartbeat before continuing. Rudolpho said you were in town. He sighed quietly, watching as she dropped the needle back into the box and grabbed a tube of ointment. She dabbed it around the wound softly before laying a bandage over it. She stood up and stepped out of the trap his jeans created, clicking the light off before she did, plunging the place back into near darkness. “Rudy shouldn’t have said anything.” He muttered… he saw her shoulders tense… and felt the way his stomach dropped. She was quick about collecting the first aid supplies. There’s left overs in the fridge. You should shower… don’t get the stitches wet. He stood up, tugging his jeans back up and securing them… she hadn’t looked at him again and her words were uncharacteristically quiet. “Maria.” He breathed but she was already turning away from him and heading down the hall. I want you gone by dawn. She left him standing there like a jackass… and he felt like one, too. The tension thick around him. He sighed quietly before he turned into the kitchen and tugged the fridge open. He quickly made food for himself and Soap… he ate in the kitchen, hiding from his colleague.

Johnny ate the rice and meat quick, using the tortillas like bread… it was probably the wrong way but he didn’t care, he was starving. As soon as he was done, he took his plate into the kitchen, where Ghost was already rinsing his. He did the same but hovered there as the LT was fiddling with something on his vest. “So… she seems nice.” He said quietly, testing the waters. And the look Ghost shot him let him know that those waters were the fucking arctic ocean. He held his hands up a little in surrender. You take the couch. I’m gonna go shower. He nodded. “Prolly won’t be awake by the time you get out.” He said low as he passed the man, he could already feel his eyelids drooping. One of them should take watch but he was just exhausted. And frankly… they were pretty well hidden and out of the way.

Simon hung his head under the cold spray of the shower, opting for as little hot water as possible. He needed to clear his head, get it on right before he did something stupid. Something like what he was doing the moment he was dry and had that towel wrapped around his waist. He shut her bedroom door behind him, his eyes already on her. She wasn’t laying down… she was sitting on what had once been his side of the bed, her hands in her lap, her head bowed. Go away. She whispered it but he heard how thick her words were. He swallowed thickly and shook his head. He only hesitated for a second before he reached up and tugged his mask off, having put it back on once he was out of the shower. He laid it on top of what had once been their dresser… but was probably only full of her clothes now. He crossed the room and he was a few feet from her when she erupted out of her seating.

She flew at him, her hands pushing on his chest in a half-hearted, hurt-fueled… well, he hesitated to call it an attack for how she very quickly sagged against him. His arms went around her, hands spanning her back as he shushed her softly… her shoulders rocking as she wept so damned quietly. He felt his eyes stinging, his throat burning, his nose itching. He never could stand to see her cry. You left me here alone. He closed his eyes tight and bowed his head, pressing his lips into her crown and taking a deep breath, nodding silently. She started struggling again, her hands balling into fists against him, she wanted to hurt him… but she hadn’t the heart to, he knew that. But he still tightened his arms around her.

Eight years ago… he’d left. He knew he’d been a fool to marry her in the first place but… he’d fallen so damned hard for her. He wanted her in every way. But the past had a way of sneaking up on him… and it did. It did in so many ways. She weathered his night terrors, his panic attacks, his episodes of PTSD. She’d stuck by him through it all… and he pushed her away. He fought with himself… against himself. Simon wanted her… but Ghost wanted to protect her from everything, even himself. He wasn’t split but he was close. “Had to make sure you would be safe.” He said low and heard her scoff against his chest. That was why he’d left in the first place… but that wasn’t why he stayed away. What had kicked it off was her asking for something he never thought he could have… something he couldn’t give her. She wanted kids. And he told her no. He couldn’t tell her why, though. So… after so many fights… one morning, before she even woke up… he just left. He left to hunt down Roba.

And he did. It took him three years… but he did it. He found that son of a bitch and killed him. Made sure he couldn’t come after him or her… made sure he could, if he wanted, give her a family. That they’d be safe. But… but then he didn’t come back. He didn’t return to her. He just stayed gone. Because he was technically a war criminal. He was a murderer. What kind of husband was he, then? The kind that hunted men like they were dogs? The kind that strangled them with their own hands? The kind that could slit another man’s throat without a thought? What kind of husband is that? What kind of father is that? No kind she deserved. She deserved the best. And that wasn’t him.

He kept in contact with Rudy, though. Her brother. Just… just to make sure she was alright. He sent Rudy money to give her… because he knew she’d not take it from him. But he never divorced her… and she never asked for one. Rudy never mentioned any other men… but he was sure there had been some. Not that he’d taken another lover in all that time… never. Not once. He was faithful to her. Always had been and always would be. Even though he was sure she’d been with others… but Rudy never said… in fact… his eyes flicked around the room now… there wasn’t a single sign that anyone else had been here. Just her. His side of the bed was vacant… his end table was empty. Almost like… he shook his head slightly at himself. She wasn’t waiting for him to come back. It was impossible.

He guided her back to the bed slowly. “I’s late, love… le’s get some sleep.” He murmured and felt her nod. He pulled back the woven cotton blanket and sheets… guided her into them. He glanced down at his towel and frowned slightly. Still have some boxers in your drawer. He blinked at her… looked over at the dresser and walked over… his hand shook just a little as he tugged what had once been his undergarments drawer open. He let out a shallow breath. Everything was as he left it… down to the vacant spot of the last pair of socks he’d pulled out. He looked over his shoulder at her but she was on her side, facing away from him. Had… had she been just… waiting for him to come back? He swallowed thickly and blinked rapidly before he took off the towel and laid it on top of the dresser, grabbing a pair of boxers and shaking them out before putting them on. They were a little tight, him having gained some bulk since he was here last. Climbing back into the bed was surreal… but wrapping around her, pulling her into him in the middle of that queen-sized was… second nature. A second nature he thought he might have lost somewhere along the way.

Simon was up and dressed before the sun… looking down at her still sleeping form. He knew that if he left now… it’d hurt her in the worst way. So… against his better judgement- as far as the mission was concerned… he knelt in front of the mattress and reached, smoothing his still bare hand over her hair softly. She stirred, her eyes fluttering open, locking on him in a sleepy haze. “Gotta move before the light.” He murmured out. He saw her chew on her lower lip but she nodded. Via con dios, Simón. He smirked and started to lean in but stilled, giving a slight shake of his head and started backing away only for her hand to snatch his collar and tug him towards her. He sucked in a deep breath through his nose, feeling her lips collide with his. It wasn’t a matter of not thinking… he couldn’t think as he climbed onto the bed, covering her in a heartbeat… bullying his tongue into her mouth and kissing her with every ounce of longing that broke free upon feeling her lips against his again.

God damn, he’d missed her so much. He felt he wrap a leg around his, felt her arms snake around his neck and hold onto him so damned tight that her muscles were trembling. His cock screamed from disuse, begged against the zipper of his jeans… she was so damned close… and yet so far away. He took a gasping breath, breaking the kiss that stole his sanity. “Can’t.” He breathed out… pushing his hands down into the mattress to lift himself off of her. “Not yet.” He kissed her again, a shorter but no less heated one. She was panting, her lips tinged red from his stubble. He pressed his brow to hers, holding her eyes… watching as they turned glassy on him.

He shushed her softly, ran the backs of his fingers along her cheek. “Te amo, mi esposa.” He kissed her softer then, just a peck really but it was sweet. He caught a tear on her temple and wiped it away. You come back this time, Simón… or don’t ever come back. He gave a nod, hearing the seriousness in her words… and the warning. “I will.” And he meant it. He climbed off the bed and took a deep breath before he pulled his mask on… then his gloves, hiding himself away. He looked down at her… bending slightly to brush some of her hair off her brow. “Still so beau’iful.” He said low and felt her bat his hand away, a bashful sort of smirk on her face. He couldn’t help his own huff of a smirk. Still so full of ca-ca. He chuckled and made for the door. Him and Soap stole a truck on the street and were out of the city in no time, aiming for Alejandro’s safe-house. He ignored Soap’s probing gaze.

Getting Alejandro his base back… shutting Graves and his men down… it all took a lot longer than he’d planned. But it was done. As Price, Gaz, and Soap all readied to return home… he glanced over his shoulder at Rudy. The man was eyeballing him with a hardened look… he must have spoken with Maria. He sighed when Price nudged his shoulder. Let’s head out. “Not comin’.” He heard himself say. He looked back into Price’s suddenly very serious eyes. “Got some business to wrap up before I head back.” He took a breath. “If I head back.” Price’s jaw flexed. You know this isn’t over. He gave a slight nod. “It might be for me.” He said simply. Yeah, he knew that Markarov was at the root of this. Yeah, he knew that. But he also knew that there would always be a big bad guy at the center of it.

There would always be another enemy pointing a gun at the world. And there would always be another operative. It didn’t have to always be him. “I’ll let you know.” Price’s aw tensed again, his mustache flaring. The thing about being dead, like him… was that he technically wasn’t in the SAS. He technically wasn’t in anything. He was dead. Legally speaking. So, Price couldn’t order him onto that plane and Price knew it. I’ll be waiting for your word, then. He nodded and Price walked off, obviously angry… but he’d get over it. Or he wouldn’t. Simon couldn’t control that. He waved Gaz and Soap off before he turned around and gave a nod to Rudy. The look Rudy gave him was half approving and half relieved.

This time… the sun was out when he climbed the stairs to the apartment… and the door was open, though the metal door was still shut and auto-locked. He didn’t let himself in this time, though. He knocked… and waited.

To be continued… probably.