#there were some other things with him that seemed fine on paper but just seemed sliiiightly off

[mariyekos]

Imagining a scenario where at some point Dante and Lady get married purely for practical purposes (like if she gets hospitalized so Dante can visit/make some decisions) but Lady ends up dating Trish so Dante's like

[comfortless]

dog hybrid recruit König thots??

content/warnings: 18+. minors do not interact. more loner x loner because it is a treat for me. fem (afab) reader. König is a man just with ears and a tail. vague smut.

He’s the one that was never picked.

So maybe you’re too busy for a puppy hybrid, but maybe you’re a bit too lonely for an empty apartment. You don’t have the space for a big, excitable dog. The cats and bunnies are in high demand, too, there’s no shot of you adopting one of the cute, softer things within your budget. So you settle for a dog. The only dog left at the shelter.

His papers state that he comes from Austria, aged twenty-five and never been put into an actual home before. He’s endured some rigorous military training: scenting, tracking, breaking down thick doors with only a shoulder and an efficient push. A hunter through and through. Then, following his merits: erratic, jumpy, impulsive, and more than a little aggressive.

This dog doesn’t growl, only bites.

The paper sits crumpled in your hands as you eye the dimly lit hallway to your left. Posters of information line the beige walls to either side, some with photos of proud kitties and dogs, hand-in-hand with their companions and cheery phrases printed above in a bright, yellow cursive.

If anything, those are the ones that give you the final push to adopt this unloved, discarded experimental soldier. He’s only been given this one very last chance before… You would rather not think of what comes if you’re to turn away and leave him to rot and wither here. It must have happened a dozen times already: ambitious families looking for a more intriguing addition only to lock eyes with this pitiful thing and shake their heads ‘no’ for him to be put on death row like this.

“He’s scary,” the clerk reminds you once you’re finally led down the hall to the tiny room your new pet— no, friend, must be kept in. It was easy to think of them as something else sometimes. Animal instincts as prevalent as their claws, teeth, and fuzzy little ears. But you didn’t need a pet, there were an abundance of shops for those. You needed a good soul to spill your guts to and maybe pet from time to time.

“I’m sure he’s fine.”

The poor thing is locked away to fester in what more closely resembles a cell than anything resembling a home. A steel door with a thin, narrow gap in the middle like a peephole keeps him locked in tight. Peering through that narrow gap, you only then seem to realize just what an impulsive decision you’re making.

König is exactly what the clerk said, continues to say next to you as she searches for the correct key on the ring. He’s bigger than any other hybrid you’ve seen before, built narrow at the waist but broad and deadly where it matters most; arms like narrow trees and thighs larger than your head, all muscle and intimidation, even with the cute, perky ears peeking out of the top of his helmet. He was definitely used for guarding and killing, and how a man his stature could even begin to fail that was unknown to you. Not that it was necessary. At most, he may need to shoo a scuttling pest out of the front door and put away a dish or two.

When the door swings open, the clerk offers a hesitant nod before dismissing herself back down the hall, and you’re left stood with a pair of blue eyes locked directly onto you.

König assesses with a tilt of his head and a slow ascent to his feet. He’s clad in layers of black, an empty vest where magazines or grenades must have been in place prior. Hell if you knew. He should have been given a fresh change of clothes after being discharged and sent to this place. A proper bed, too, considering the only furniture in this barren place seemed to be a cot that could never hope to hold him.

If not for the swaying of his tail, you might even find yourself nervous, but he does well to try and look approachable, even greets you with a thickly accented tongue beneath that hood. A simple, “Hallo.”

“I’ve adopted you,” you explain, and it sounds ridiculous. You can’t just adopt a full-grown man. Maybe a puppy or some hybrid child, never a man better suited for a gladiator pit than a home. “I mean that… if you want to come home with me, you can.”

He gives you a huff, a burst of breath that pushes the hood out from his face and a near imperceptible roll of his eyes as a step is taken toward you. It must sound stupid, even to him, but the wiry tail at his back does not cease its wagging. No matter how stern the glimpses of his face seem to look and how alarming his size may be, he’s nothing but an eager pup it seemed.

“Richtig… Then let’s go.”

Life with your big soldier turns out to be remarkably easy.

The first few weeks are dedicated to stoking up some sort of bond and rationing out chores. Simple tasks to see how he adapts, and small rewards in the form of pets along the velvety fur of his ears and scratches beneath his chin. The walks with you seem to be his favorite and tend to be long, but he remains right at your side the entire way. The only barking to be heard comes from nosy passersby that warn you to keep your beast on a leash, but you let him be reasoning that it wouldn’t do you any good at all. Your strength was that of a tiny rabbit’s by comparison.

König is clean enough from his prior military training and does as you ask without complaint. Even things you don’t request, such as your laundry are taken care of before you ever even return from work. He’s overbearing on those evenings, when you’ve been apart and he sates himself drunk on the scent of your perfume still clinging to the collar of an old sweater. Excitable and sweet, though, when he curls at your side while some movie plays on the television screen.

It amazes you how easily he’s shifted from stiff to adoring in a matter of days, but it’s rare to have a moment to yourself now. The hybrid is insistent on pulling you up into his lap when you’re curled on the couch, or rushing behind to hoist you up and pin you between an expanse of chest and the kitchen counter with drooly licks against the side of your neck and cheek. Biting, too. You try your best to bully that out of him, flicking at his ears or shoving against his face, but there’s always a mark left behind.

When a coworker gives you a mischievous grin and asks if there’s a new man in your life at the sight of a purplish bruise against your throat, that is when you decide that a collar may actually be nice. Weave your fingers between leather and skin and give König a sharp tug when he gets too rowdy, maybe that would teach him. Spray bottles and warnings spoken through giggles just aren’t enough.

You find one that you think might fit at a shop specializing in hybrid needs. It’s thick and well-made, a black leather hold to match that big scary demeanor that he tries his best to uphold. The cutesy silver bell attached to it is just a bonus. At least you would hear him coming the next time he insisted on peppering you in kisses with his tail a blur behind him.

He greets you at the door as always, unlocks it for you and pulls it open before you ever even make it to the top of the landing. It’s cute how giddy he seems each day when you return, how he doesn’t hesitate to walk right up to you with his hands at his sides, his own silent request for a hug or some form of affection whilst staring down at you and mumbling a “hallo” like the most awkward gentleman in the entire world.

“I got you a present,” you excitedly tell him instead of blessing him with your usual embrace, lifting up the little gift bag with a smile.

When the collar is retrieved from the bag by a massive hand, König does not mirror your enthusiasm. Any light in the placid blue of his eyes seems to extinguish, smothered and fizzled out to pave way for a look of the purest disdain. He rolls the leather between both palms, only then regarding you with as a heavy sigh stirs up from his chest to whistle past the open mouth beneath the hood.

Maybe he would have preferred something with spikes. Something heavy and intimidating with a tag that read “FUCK YOU” in red, painted letters.

“I don’t wear collars,” he finally says, flatly.

Or maybe a muzzle would have been best…

“You do now, big guy,” you challenge with an airy laugh, slipping past him to cross into your home. Tidy as ever, he’s been working today it seemed. The bulb in the living room has been replaced, a few pieces of furniture rearranged. It all just looks… cozy. More habitable now that someone else lives here too.

König follows you inside with his head lowered and tail pushed between his thighs. The collar rests in one hand, fingers curled over it so tightly it almost seemed he wished the damned thing to dissipate into dust.

“Nein. I won’t wear it.” The door is locked behind him. It’s the first time he’s refused you anything. Even cleaning up around the kitchen wasn’t met with a rejection. It’s odd, almost uncharacteristic for him.

“I just thought…” You would want to be mine. Properly. With a nice symbol of it right around his neck, with a sturdy leash to lead him by, with…

Any thought in your head puffs into a plume of smoke back there behind your eyes when you feel two hands grasp at your shoulders, push you back towards the wall to hold you there. Hugging, lifting, cuddling up against, even licking… those things were commonplace. This was foreign and surprisingly rough; there’s no give to his hold, no room to even try to move away as his head lowers to stare you straight in the eyes.

“I killed my last handler.”

“Did you…?”

“Ja.”

That confession should have sent icy dread to the pit of your stomach, should have spurred you to claw and kick and bite. Surely the shelter would have known, could have warned you too. That would have spared you from looking like a terrified little rabbit now, yet a part of you knew it wouldn’t have changed a thing. König sort of… belonged here, as if written in some silly reading of the stars.

His ears flatten against his skull, large hands trembling where they hold you in place. The dam begins to crack as his eyes grow glassy, gaze far away in a concoction of pain and contemplation. He stares through you, not at, reliving something you dared not ask for an explanation for. The whys and hows die on your tongue.

And there’s nothing scary about him anymore.

There’s only a wounded soldier here.

A good boy.

Your hands rise to flip up the hood, rest it over the top of his head to cup his jaw in your palms, stroking over his cheeks with both thumbs to soothe and comfort. His unwinding comes immediate, hands slipping down to your lower back to pull you in closer.

You don’t apologize and neither does he. Everything just falls back into a comfortable lull, some fuzzy droning from both sides as you wish one another good night. He walks you to your bedroom door, the very best he can do to prove that he’s not some mutt with froth coming from his jaw. You bite your tongue to prevent yourself from encouraging that he sleep next to you.

“You’re a good boy, you know that?,” you tell him as you lean against the door in preparation to push it closed. “The very best there is.”

He doesn’t respond, but the tail behind him wags at a frantic pace from those words alone.

The following morning is different.

There’s food on the table and coffee already brewing by the time you cross from your room into the kitchen. The air bears the scent of sandalwood and geranium, a forgotten candle sat burning on the countertop. You eat your breakfast of too-sweet pancakes and prep your coffee to go all while the shower runs from somewhere down the hallway.

He usually waits, tells you goodbye before you’re off to work, bites at your neck and asks which will be better: a movie after dinner or some fresh air. Instead, there’s a note attached to the door. Something simple and mischievous, a scribbled, lopsided heart and some phrase in German written with handwriting so sloppy that there was no hope of your still sleep-addled mind translating it.

You chalk it up to him being fully adjusted in this new space, let him go about his business while you go about yours.

It would be a walk tonight.

Arriving home twists what is simply different into the realm of bizarre. No hugging by the door, it sits closed and untouched since you left this morning. You inhale something heavy, trepidation or maybe a bit of yearning there, while you fumble with your key in the lock. A click, a push, and then everything just changes. There’s no crashing and burning, only a very firm and insistent buzzing that rises to your chest, because the sight inside is just…

König.

Your König.

The hood has been discarded and set aside on the polished wood of a nearby table, the little bell collar sits right along his throat. It jingles when his ears perk and his tail begins that gentle sway, swishing with every step that you take into the apartment, rampant and unyielding when the sparkles in your eyes cluster like the tiniest, most insignificant stars.

No apologies, but this was something better.

“Gut?,” he asks you, kneels before you with the cutest stare that you’ve ever seen on a man. Constellations sit there waiting to be mapped, and your giant puppy waits for just a little praise.

You stroke his ears first, then dip your head to press a kiss to his cheek.

“The best boy,” you tell him.

“I have a present for you too.”

No protest comes when he herds you out of the door, still in your stiff uniform with your hair a mess. The sun begins its setting out on the horizon, bathing the world in purple and gold. Trees with spring blossoms and wildflowers all abloom tinge the air in something sweet. It’s not your usual trail, and König doesn’t walk at your side this time, only ahead. You watch him fondly as he grazes his fingertips against the blooms hanging from branches just overhead, how he shies away from the curious nesting birds in bushes as to not startle them.

It isn’t the usual trail, but he walks it with confidence. There are no people out so late in the day, and apart from the occasional quip between the both of you, the setting only bears the sound of the chiming of his bell and a few night birds beginning to call. Peace morphs to something greater when the sun tucks itself away and sets the stage for a bright, waning moon. There’s a small clearing, a meadow cut straight through by the dirt path you walk, and only then are you pulled aside.

“Here,” he huffs against your chest when your back meets soft grass and a hazy, spring sky is painted out above you.

Maybe you’re not the best with men, but there have been signs.

So many in abundance that the pitiful squeak that leaves you when his nose finds its way up your skirt is only an embarrassment. König must have found it charming, reaches for both of your hands as he laps at your sex through the thin lace of your panties until your body grows tense and your nails leave little crescents on the backs of his hands.

The words don’t come, they don’t have to when he speaks them for you, little whispers and coos into your hair when any barrier between you is discarded with the descent of a zipper and the sound of tearing lace. There’s an outpouring of thanks in the form of a tiny, fragile, “I missed you.”

The night birds calling washes out each sound that escapes from either of you then, only outdone by the symphony of impact when König loses himself entirely to you. Limbs curling around narrow hips and a broad back, pools of blue so shimmery and pretty they outdo even the moon hanging above locked onto you. He doesn’t look away even as you try to bury your face into the width of his shoulder, only then guides you back down with a gentle hand and a muffled, needywhine.

“Good boy,” comes as a mere peep when he fully sheaths himself and laps at the corner of your mouth as you speak. The praise only causes him to still, pries the words from his panting mouth and reduces them to a series of pleasured, stuttering groans.

“What did the note say?,” you ask him in the silence that comes comfortable once the act is done, nestled into a pair of strong arms with a cheek pressed against an expanse of chest.

“Oh.” König laughs breathily, coming down from the height of both love and need.

“That you found home?,” you ask when he pets at your hair, twirls strands between his fingertips. “Because I think that I may have, too…”

“Something like that.” He shrugs, loosens his grip around your body for a mere second before pulling you in closer, tighter to him, as if letting go would end the world entirely. “Heaven.”

[sunderwight]

SV scenario where Shen Jiu is also Shen Yuan's Meimei.

Trans egg SJ never got to examine her gender identity very much in her first life. What with all the enslavement, abuse (given as well as received), misunderstandings, betrayals, dismemberment, and death, there was far too much for her to ever come to terms with a set of concepts she'd never really had the luxury to entertain. By the time Shen Jiu was a peak lord, the Shen Qingqiu persona was locked in, and any dreams of a different life or inclinations to the contrary of her role were ruthlessly quashed by SJ herself.

But when SJ finally dies and her soul is free to reincarnate (taking a few more memories than usual along for the ride), she has mixed feelings about being born as the youngest daughter of a wealthy family.

The mixed feelings don't actually last long, though after a while she starts to wonder why the fates would grant her a reprieve? Maybe remembering her past life is her punishment, because it's certainly the worst part of her new situation. Her parents are indulgent, her older brothers all dote on her and spoil her, and when she tests limits she's only gently rebuked if she gets rebuked at all. Not only is she allowed to wear fine dresses and look pretty, she's expected to (actually the expectation does chafe, a bit). But even when she uses foul language, skips classes, reads controversial books, and commits myriad other tiny rebellions, no real retribution ever comes of it.

Even despite everything, after some years Shen Jiu starts to become... not complacent, but perhaps calmer would be a better description. She has a stable future handed to her on a silver platter. Very few things remind her of her past, either. She can read books about snotty highborn lords getting railed by werewolves as readily as classics of literature or academic papers on science, business, culture, politics, or whatever else takes her fancy. Her family doesn't even put demands on her to marry, despite some of her mother's hints in that direction. For the first time, Shen Jiu has a life where it seems like she can't fail, she can only succeed however much she wants to. It's like having nowhere to go but up, except without the part about hitting rock bottom.

A foolish set of assumptions, in the end. There's always something to lose.

When Shen Yuan suddenly dies, Shen Jiu recognizes the sinister hand of the same entity which oversaw her own reincarnation. One which had visited her dreams quite recently, trying to tempt her back to her first life with offers of being able to change the past. It wasn't even difficult to deny it. Shen Jiu doesn't believe she could change what happened, and she doesn't really want to try. Her one regret is what happened to that person, the one who died so horribly while rushing to her rescue, and even that, she doesn't know how she would change (because she still doesn't know why he bothered in the first place).

But how dare the System God take the silliest and softest of her brothers to try and fix her accursed first life?! Luo Binghe will eat him alive! Cang Qiong will mistake him for a demon or a madman or worse, and throw him into some cell somewhere, if they don't just kill him outright!

Shen Meimei tries to negotiate with the System, but it tells her the window of opportunity for her to go back instead has passed. Smarmy piece of shit. There's nothing she can do without supernatural help, however, except bide her time and wait for another "window of opportunity". It's in the midst of this that she discovers PIDW, and its (terrible) account not only of the broad strokes of her first life and death, but of what came afterwards. That little beast really wrecked the world, huh? And all those women, too. She's never been more grateful to have not figured herself out in her first life. But at least with access to this information, she can try and prepare more. (She's suspicious of who actually wrote this account as well -- is Luo Binghe himself in this world? Better to leave it now, in that case, before he inevitably makes another bid for power and destroys everything in his wake all over again!)

When the System finally gives her an opportunity to go back (as herself, or rather "Bonus Epilogue Side Character -- Shen Qingqiu's Mysterious Little Sister!") she is braced for any number of outcomes. Shen Yuan could be dead. He could be imprisoned. He could have had his limbs all cut off. He could be stuffed into a pickle jar. He could be hiding or on the run somewhere. Hopefully, he'll be hiding behind that person, confused and distraught but still intact thanks to the sect leader's guilt-driven sense of obligation. Most likely if the same number of years have passed since Shen Yuan "left", he's already been destroyed by Luo Binghe and all Shen Jiu will be able to do is avenge him. But she has some ideas of how to kill the beast, so, she will.

Of course, what she finds is nothing she expected, and almost even worse.

Luo Binghe married her brother?!

Death is too good for him! Shen Jiu's going to skin him alive!!!

[herozdiary]

Who’s the hot ass milk man?

Francis mosses x reader

This diary entry contains…Absolute down bad reader|Francis being..Francis|Suggestive in a way |Kinda modern|Reader is around the same age as Francis obviously!|Both characters are set to be 20ish 💁‍♀️|short Drabble|

A/N:My FIRST time writing about him!This fandom needed more tumblr fics as the ones on Ao3 are good besides the fact people are already making weird content about this man…ANYWAY!Enjoy!🎀

In this day and age you wouldn’t expect people to have their milk delivered still,But some people still saw it as a nice way to make quick money.The only reason you liked milkmen still being around was because one of them was fine like hell.

Everytime you saw him it made you wanna do a cartwheel.Francis was a very quiet person who only seemed to wanna get his job done with for the day.His tired eyes always displayed had this tired look in his eyes.

When you first met him you had to stop yourself for saying the most down bad sentence to him and kindly accept the milk.The cold bottle would just sit in the fridge until you needed it for something like making pancakes or cereal.

But you were always thankful to see francis.When he did talk it was addictive to hear.His tired voice made you think things that didn't need to be thought.

Sometimes if you were lucky enough he would flash you a small smile before walking back to his truck.You always wondered if he had a lover of some sorts.He seemed to be a normal dude who was good looking so you were shocked when he revelaed he was single.

You joked about how you were always open but in the truth was that you werent really joking and that you would always be open to date him.

"do other girls try to hit on you?"You had asked while checking him out as he shook his head."Not really.Most of them don't end up even answering the door."Francis stated while handing you the bottle.You gladly took it before clearing your throat.

"Would you be interested in dating someone"You ask while swirling the container of liquid around the bottle.Francis paused before shrugging."Never crossed my mind.I'm always so busy with work i never thought about a relationship"He said before checking his watch.

"as much as i would love to listen to your ways of trying to figure out my love life so you can ask me out,I have more people to get to"He said before waving you bye and turning to head to his truck.

You stood confused on your porch before fully getting what he said.You felt your face heat up as you shuffled back into your house.Even if you wanted to deny it,You knew it was true.As you sat the bottle down on the table you realized that something was written on it.

inspecting the bottle more you smiled as you realized it was a phone number and it was signed with the letter F.You smiled as you went to write it down on a piece of paper so you dont forget to send him a text later.

[halfmoth-halfman]

the little things

Pairing: Simon “Ghost” Riley x Medic!Reader Synopsis: Five times Soap questions the relationship between Ghost and the 141's Medic, and the one time he gets an answer. Word Count: 2.9k Warnings: mentions of blood, mild swearing Disclaimer: I do not own modern warfare or any of the modern warfare characters.

part two. part three. part four.

The first time is purely by accident. 

It’s not like he’s trying to eavesdrop; it isn’t his fault the infirmary doors were left wide open, and it doesn’t seem like you and Ghost are trying to be quiet. Price called everyone for a meeting in twenty and, since the infirmary’s on the way, Soap figures he’d swing by and grab you. He’s walking towards the doors, paying attention to nothing in particular, when your unmistakable laugh echoes into the hallway. Soap stumbles slightly, caught off guard by the sudden noise. 

Someone’s enjoying themselves, he thinks. He’s almost six steps from the door when you laugh again, this time followed by the deep timbre of a familiar voice that makes Soap stop in his tracks.

Price was the one who had brought you onto the team, but it was supposedly Ghost who had recommended you. “Only medic I ever met who actually knew what they were doing,” he had said. Apparently the two of you had previously worked on multiple missions together, and that was made obvious by the way you two worked flawlessly around each other with an efficiency that could only have been cultivated through a deep trust and years of teamwork. 

Soap slowly approaches, all his stealth training coming to the forefront as he leans next to the door and focuses in on what you’re saying.

“It’ll only take a day, two tops. I promise.” Soap can hear the smile in your voice. Glancing at the glass panes of the doors, he can just make out your reflection. You’re standing beside an empty bed, behind an overbed table that’s covered in papers, leaning on your elbows to smile widely up at Ghost as he stands against the wall on the opposite side of the bed looking wholly unimpressed. 

“You want me to spend an entire day sitting in the corner and watching you give everyone on base flu shots?” 

“No, I’m asking if you’ll sit in the corner and look intimidating while I give everyone on base flu shots. The “look intimidating” part’s important,” you speak matter-of-factly. 

“I’ve seen you amputate a man’s leg at the knee mid-combat. You’re telling me you can’t handle a few shots by yourself?”

Soap makes a note to ask about that story later. 

“I can handle myself just fine, thank you. It’s everyone else that’s the problem here.” Ghost blinks at you, seemingly not believing you. “I get it, you’re all big, tough guys who face death every day-” Soap sinks his teeth into his cheek to fight back a laugh as you try to lower your voice in a very poor imitation of Ghost, “-but the way some of these guys act, you’d think I was coming at them with some kind of medieval torture device. I just think-” “That’d be a first.”

“-If I had someone that everyone respects, and is a little bit afraid of, sitting nearby then they’d stop with the whining and I can get my job done faster.” 

There’s a long pause as you and Ghost stand locked into a staring contest. Soap swears that, for a moment, something like amusement crosses Ghost’s eyes. 

“You think people are only a little afraid of me?” Ghost asks, tilting his head ever-so-slightly. You let out a loud, exaggerated scoff, throwing your hands up.

“Fine! Go lurk in a dark corner and scare children, or whatever it is you do, instead of helping me. Just don’t be surprised if I’m suddenly out of painkillers the next time you get shot.” You’re facing away from him, pouting like a child with your arms crossed over your chest. Both Soap and Ghost know you don’t mean it, your flawless reputation is too important to you, but Ghost sighs and nods anyways.

“Just tell me what days-” Ghost is barely done talking when you’re spinning around, nearly knocking the table over.

“Really?”

“Whatever will get you to stop being a brat.” Like water off a duck’s back, the insult runs right off of you as you clap your hands together. “Now, come on. Don’t want to be late to Price’s meeting.” Ghost pushes himself off the wall as you shuffle your scattered papers into organized piles to look through later. Soap leans back, taking a few quiet steps back from the door as you and Ghost start to leave the infirmary. 

“Hold on, one sec.” Soap pauses as he hears your hurried footsteps, looking back to your reflection in the glass. Eyes widening, his jaw drops as he watches Ghost let you grab his arm and push yourself up onto your toes to place a quick kiss to the cheekbone of the larger man’s plated skull mask. “Thank you,” you speak softly, taking a couple small steps back. 

Soap doesn’t have time to process as you and Ghost step out of the infirmary, immediately spotting him as he stands dumbly in the hallway. 

“Hey Soap! You heading to Price’s office, too?” Soap blinks, shaking off the shock and giving you a quick nod. 

“Yeah, I was just about to come get the two of you.”

“Let’s go, then,” Ghost says, turning and walking away without waiting for you or Soap. You fall in step behind him almost instantly, waving Soap over. Soap glances between the two of you as he follows. He knew the two of you weren’t strangers. He’d even speculated you might’ve been friends, but he’d never imagined you might’ve been something more. He wants to know more, but also gets the sneaking suspicion that this isn’t something he should be prying into. Ghost has always been a private man. 

Either way, he has no time to think on it further as the three of you enter Price’s office. 

-

The second time, he’s in far too much pain and far too tired to really remember if it actually happened. 

Despite everything, the mission had been a success, though the cost had almost been too much. Your team of seven has two unconscious, three severely injured, and the rest sporting a variety of bullet grazes and knife wounds. None dead, thanks to your quick thinking and efficient work. It’s late and the team’s holed up in an old safehouse overnight waiting for evac. Soap is sat up against the far wall, watching you with drooping eyes as you flit around the safehouse, tending to everyone’s wounds. He had been fortunate enough to only have a few minor wounds, but the adrenaline of the fight is fading fast and the comedown is hitting hard. 

Ghost is on watch and is the last person you check on, at his own insistence and much to your annoyance. He bats you away from any of the minor cuts and bruises, so you pull up a chair next to his and focus on the deep gash running across his right forearm. Through his sleep-hazed gaze, Soap watches you expertly stitch Ghost’s arm. He can hear the two of you mumbling to each other, but doesn’t have the energy to try and decipher your words. Once you’ve finished wrapping Ghost’s arm, you glance around at the others. 

You must assume everyone is asleep by the way you deflate, running a tired hand down your face and stretching your neck with a grimace. You scoot your chair closer to Ghost’s, shutting your eyes and letting your head fall against his armored shoulder. To Soap’s surprise and not to yours, Ghost makes no move to push you away, instead shifting so your head’s not at such an awkward angle and settling into his own chair. Soap can feel his curiosity creeping up, but sleep wins out in the end and he passes out not long after. 

When he wakes, Ghost is in the same spot, but you’re curled up in a beaten up arm chair across the room still asleep. 

When evac finally arrives, everyone is awake, and you and Ghost hardly acknowledge each other as he briefs Price over comms and you help load wounded into the helicopter.

-

The third time, he’s sneaking through the rain and blood-soaked streets of Las Almas, Ghost guiding him through his ear as he makes his way to the church. 

He knows he should’ve seen it coming, but Graves’s betrayal stings nonetheless. Soap pushes the anger down, instead focusing on reaching the rendezvous point so they can escape and rescue Alejandro. The banter helps, but there’s an edge to Ghost’s voice that Soap understands as worry. 

They haven’t heard from you since you all were separated. 

They both know you can handle yourself, and worrying about it won’t help, so they talk and sort through their situation: what supplies Soap can pick up, how bad tequila tastes, the tactical uses for dog piss. Everything is as fine as it can be while on the run from deadly mercenaries. Until-

“The mask. Take it off.”

“Show my face?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Negative.”

“Are you ugly?”

“Quite the opposite.”

“Can confirm.” Soap nearly jumps out of his skin at the sudden sound of your voice. 

“Holy hell, where have you been?”

“Aw, you worried about me, Soap?” The teasing tells him you’re not in too much danger, or are at least somewhere you feel safe, but something in your voice feels…off.

“What’s your status?” Ghost cuts in.

“Managed to get out of the village,” you groan through a deep exhale, and give a haggard laugh, “can’t say the same for the Shadows.”

Ghost gives a quiet hum of praise, but all Soap can hear is the strain in your winded voice. “You alright, Doc? You sound-”

“Dings and scrapes, Soap. I’ll be fine. Meet up with you later.”

“Wh-”

“Don’t worry about it, Johnny,” Ghost sighs, “just focus on getting to the church.” 

“Right,” Soap mutters. He returns his focus back to the mission at hand, rummaging through the drawers in front of him for rope he can wrap around his extra fan blade. 

It hits him just as he spots the reflective shine of a shard of glass on the floor. Can confirm, is what you’d said. Did that mean-

“The Doc’s seen you without the mask.” It comes out as more of a statement than a question. 

“Let’s worry about you, Sergeant.”

-

The fourth time, he lands hard on his feet in the pitch black of Alejandro’s safehouse. Soap has his back turned as Ghost climbs in the window behind him. Luckily for him, as Ghost sees the laser sight aiming right for Soap’s back. 

“Don’t move!” Ghost calls out, before launching a knife into the support beam across the room. Soap whirls around to shine his light at the beam just as someone calls out from behind it.

“¿Quién está ahí?”

Before either he or Ghost can answer, someone else stands and walks around to the front, “About time you two showed up!” Your voice is an instant relief as they both relax while you turn back to let Rodolfo know it’s safe to come out. 

“Either of you injured?” you ask, eyes scanning over Soap as Ghost hops down from the open window and Rudy returns his knife. 

“Nothing major,” Soap assures you, though your eyes linger on the bullet hole in his arm. 

“Found this one trying to climb in through the same window,” Rudy explains, nodding towards you. 

“I almost had it,” you laugh, leaning to the side to put your weight on the beam. They don’t miss the way you wince, and it doesn’t take long to notice your right leg is a deep red from the knee up.

“Your leg-”

“Looks worse than it is.” 

Soap doesn’t believe you, but the subject changes to Graves and he lets it go. The four of you settle around the table as the guys formulate their plan for Alejandro’s prison break. You set your palms atop the table, leaning forward to take as much weight off of your leg as you can so you can focus on the conversation. It doesn’t help much, but it helps enough and soon the plan is concrete enough to take action. While Rudy leads Soap to the weapons locker, you take a seat on a nearby box to check the haphazard bandages you’ve wrapped around your thigh.

“You’re staying here.” Soap glances over as Ghost speaks. You laugh quietly, leaning back on your hands to stare up at the man towering over you.

“Leaving me all by my lonesome?” You sound like you’re complaining, but even from a distance Soap can see the relief in your face. Your teasing does little to soothe the stress radiating from Ghost.

“Just-” Ghost lets out a long sigh before dropping his voice so low, Soap can barely hear his words. “Be careful. Please.” You sit up straight, face suddenly serious as you set a gentle hand on Ghost’s wrist.

“For you? Always.”

“Soap, can you grab the rest of the guns?” Soap snaps back to attention, nodding at Rudy and collecting what guns he can. It takes all of two minutes, and when he turns back, Ghost is sorting through papers and you’ve set to properly bandaging your leg. 

-

By the fifth time something happens, Soap is absolutely sure there’s something between you and the Lieutenant. He notices it everytime the two of you are together: the quiet banter, the dark jokes only the two of you enjoy, the way Ghost always seems to hover near where you’re standing. It isn’t until the 141’s every-so-often night out that his suspicions are confirmed. Gaz and Price stepped away for a round of darts ten minutes ago, and now Soap finds himself sitting alone watching you and Ghost talk at the opposite end of the bar.

“You keep staring like that, and they’re going to notice.” Soap chokes on his drink as Price takes a seat next to him, Gaz snickering as he flops down on Soap’s other side and claps him on the back. 

“I…I don’t know what you’re talking about, sir,” Soap coughs out, clearing his throat and looking anywhere but the other end of the bar. Price sees straight through his lie, of course.

“Gaz, why don’t you see if the Doc wants to try a hand at darts?” 

“Sure thing, boss.” Another clap on the back and Gaz is making his way over to you and Ghost. Soap startles as Price leans close and nudges him in the side with his elbow. 

“Keep your eyes on him,” Price whispers, and leans away to sip at his own glass. Soap takes another drink, sneakily glancing up just as Gaz reaches you and Ghost. You smile widely at him, nodding when he gestures towards the darts board. You turn and say something to Ghost before standing from the bar and following after Gaz to the other side of the room. Ghost’s eyes follow you the entire way, never once leaving your form.

“Watches like a hawk, that one,” Price hums, “and I thought he’d be better at subtlety.” Soap turns to his Captain, brows furrowed in confusion. 

“You-” Price shushes him, and nods back towards Ghost. Soap looks back, and they watch as Ghost sets down his empty glass, stands, then makes his way over to you and Gaz. He posts up, leaning against the wall closest to you where you can easily smile at him every time one of your throws lands. 

“Like a lost puppy,” Price laughs.

“What’s the situation there?” Soap asks, glancing back at Price, but all Price can offer is a lazy shrug. 

“Don’t know, but whatever it is, it’s been happening for a long time.”

-

“Alright, just got a couple papers for you to sign and you should be good to go,” you smile, gently turning Soap’s head to examine the area you’ve just pulled his stitches from. 

“Thanks, Doc. ‘Preciate it.” You give a playfully dismissive wave, disappearing behind the dividing curtain. 

“I’ll be right back!” you call and Soap nods, more to himself than you. He glances around at his sterile surroundings, eyes bouncing from the white walls to the white floor to the white bedsheets. The overbed table sits just next to him, though this time there’s no mess of papers scattered atop it. Instead, there sits a single file and after twenty seconds of solid boredom, Soap can’t help himself. 

Lifting from the bottom corner of the file, Soap nearly drops it as he sees your picture clipped to a pile of papers. He looks behind him, pulling the curtain just enough to peer through. He spots you on the far side of the infirmary, waiting patiently at the printer. Letting the curtain fall, he quickly turns back to your file. He flips it open, picking up the paper with your photo attached. It’s an older picture, maybe from three or four years ago, but your smile is still as wide as ever. 

Flipping the picture up reveals almost two entire pages of solid black lines. There’s more redacted information here than Soap has ever seen. Soap skims through what few sentences are available, every so often catching things like SIS and specialty interrogation tactics and a slew of words he never would’ve associated with your cheerful demeanor. He gets to the final page that appears to be a printed copy of the photo and his heart nearly stops as he reads the name written at the bottom and everything clicks together in his head.

Your last name is Riley.

[clockwayswrites]

Wibirbs Wobble Part 15

masterpost

Bruce stood, along with most of the theater as Cass and her dance partner came onto the stage to join the rest of the Cass. Bruce was so proud of her. Despite everything Cass had been through, she had grown to be such a kind, confident young lady. For her not only get up on a stage and dance but to also be the one of the leads was truly a testament to how hard she had worked to find a life she wanted.

Next to him, Danny stood, wavered, and ended up right back in his seat.

“Danny?”

“I’m fine, watch your daughter,” Danny said. He waved one hand dismissively at Bruce while he rested his forehead in the other.

He’d gone alarming pale.

Reluctantly, Bruce turned back to applaud one last time. As soon as the curtains closed, Bruce took a knee in front of Danny’s chair.

“I’m fine,” Danny tried again.

“You look like a ghost,” Bruce argued and took Danny’s wrist.

Danny covered a snort of laughter with his other hand.

Danny’s pulse fluttered weakly under Bruce’s fingers. “We should get you to an urgent care—”

“It’s fine,” Danny said. Even his smile looked a little weak. “I just need a moment.”

Bruce doubted that a moment would help much. “I’m worried about your pulse.”

“You caught that?” Danny asked, question curious and not at all concerned.

“I was studying to be a doctor at once point,” Bruce pointed out dryly.

“You were? Hum, maybe I’ve heard that before? I don’t really know,” Danny said before he shook his head a little. (The movement did Danny’s coloring no favors.) “But okay look, I know about my pulse issues. I’m having a bit of a bad… few weeks right now, but I’ll be fine. I’ve already seen my doctor about it. I get how it seems concerning, and yeah I need to keep taking it easy a bit, but this is pretty normal for me. I have some complications from an accident when I was a kid.”

Bruce frowned, searching the words for a lie.

There wasn’t one, even if there also wasn’t much information.

“At least let us offer you a ride home then,” Bruce insisted. He continued quickly when it seemed Danny would protest. “It really won’t be an issue and it would make me feel better to know you got home safe.”

Danny’s lips pressed together thinly.

Bruce pulled out the big guns. “And Cass would hate it if you were hurt from coming to see her perform.”

“Does she have everyone wrapped around her finger?” Danny asked, lips quirking into a little smile.

“Basically since she arrived,” Bruce said wryly. He stood and offered Danny both his arms, palms up. “Please stand carefully. If you go over the edge of the box I’ll have to drive to save you or something equally dramatic.”

“We would make the papers for sure,” Danny said. His grip was concernedly shaky as he wrapped his hands around Bruce’s forearms, but he stood in a smooth motion, even if he ended up basically leaning against Bruce’s chest. Danny stepped back after a second, cheeks dusted with red. “Okay, should I just… wait for you out front?”

“It’s adorable how you think I’m letting you out of my sight,” Bruce said. He rested his hand lightly on the small of Danny’s back and started to guide the other out of the box. “Again, you falling over the edge of the box, down the stairs, dramatically onto some absurdly pointy bit of Gotham architecture— these are all things I am not going to take a risk of happening to you.”

“You are such a father.”

“I don’t know if that’s a compliment or an insult,” Bruce said honestly as they took the back stairs down to avoid the crowd.

“Oh, well, more of just a statement? But definitely not an insult,” Danny insisted.

They were tucked slightly close together until the stairs opened up into a sitting room that was kept aside traditionally for those in the boxes. Tonight the Wayne name had kept it aside for for Bruce, his family, and their close friends. Well, and Danny, Bruce mused as he made the other sit down on the sofa that purely for looks and not comfort.

Bruce poured a glass of the recently refreshed water and brought it over to Danny.

“I really will be alright,” Danny said, but took the glass and a long sip. His color was a little better after some water. “I’ve been dealing with some level of this for… huh, almost twenty five years now. I sorta hadn’t realized that it had been so long… but anyways, that means I’m used to it.”

Bruce rested on the arm of the sofa. “Just because you’re used to it, that doesn’t mean that you have to bear it alone.”

Danny gave a little shrug. “But I do, Bruce, or a lot of it at least. I live alone after all.”

The door burst open as the room was swarmed with a multitude of Waynes and might-as-well-be-Waynes. It left Bruce without any time to respond to that and grateful, as he watched his family pile into the room, that he had been lucky enough despite everything to not end up alone.

Tim was the one who paused, as if just noticing Danny, before shaking his head. “Right, the engineer Cass invited! Hi, I’m Tim. I intern at WE so you might see me around there too. Well, not that you won’t see the others, but I mean that you might see me more often.”

“Nice to meet you Tim, though I don’t know how often you’ll be down by engineering,” Danny said.

Danny had a bit of a tight grip on the glass in his hands, but Bruce supposed it was a great deal of people very suddenly. There was something though…

“Oh, Tim is also a huge nerd,” Steph said as she threw her arm over Tim’s shoulder. “He likes to tinker so you might be surprised. Trust me, I’m his ex.”

“We only dated for months,” Tim said with a roll of his eyes.

“That’s Stephanie, a family friend,” Bruce cut in before things got far too out of hand. “You know Dick and this is Barbara, who he mentioned. Jason, my second oldest, is in the back with his boyfriend Roy, Duke is next to them, and this is Damian, my youngest.”

“Greetings,” Damian said. His tone was sever, but far more curious than cutting. Bruce was proud of the growth even if there was still more work to be done.

“Hello everyone. Like Tim said, I’m Danny,” Danny said with a little smile that was mostly real with just a bit of polite company strain. “Cass spent an afternoon in my office chatting with me. I suppose since we talked so much about the show, she invited me to see it. Sorry to invade your family time though, I didn’t know I would be doing that.”

“That’s just how this family goes,” Barbara said with a soft chuckle. “Trust me, I’ve been around them long enough to know how they absorb people.”

“Way to make us sound nefarious, Barbie,” Jason grumbled.

“No, no, you guys are,” Roy said casually. “It’s in a good way, sure, but you’re still sorta nefarious and you definitely absorb people. This isn’t even everyone.”

“Have I apologized for them already?” Bruce asked, though he supposed the fond warmth in his words ruined the intent.

Luckily Danny just gave a soft laugh. “Don’t. The best sort of family and friendships all have a good helping of chaos and malarkey.”

“Malarkey?” Steph repeated.

“It’s a good word, illiterate ingrate,” Jason defended.

The room dissolve into chaos and Bruce turned to apologize again only to find Danny watching the group with a small but fond smile.

[backinmyphase]

Not my honeymoon

Synopsis: A household of an arranged marriage with Gojo Satoru wasn't easy. And as the pressure from the higher ups was becoming more and more there was something to discuss. Your honeymoon.

Or: Satoru Gojo doesn't even know how attached he will grow to his wife yet.

Pairing: Gojo x reader, 3000 words

Not really satisfied with this but I hope you enjoy!

Series Masterlist!

"Are you okay, Gojo?"

No, he was definitely not. He wasn't since all of this started. Since he was destined to marry you. But now as he looked at you it was a different kind of not okay.

What did he do???

You looked sad, no, devastated. Ever since you two ate breakfast together every morning, he thought you would look more relaxed. Maybe even comfortable.

But you seemed to put up a barrier everytime he asked something. And then there was the name.

You still called him Gojo. Even though you were now named the same.

You so carefully kept your distance and you had this sad look in your eyes.

He was worried.

"Yeah, of course." he returned to eating his breakfast. After a bit of silence he opened his mouth again and was surprised he could speak.

"Are you? You look tense."

Your body tensed up again as you looked at him and he wanted to punch himself. He made you uncomfortable, didn't he?

"I am, no worries." you didn't raise your head.

Where did his confidence go? His charisma? His social skills?

Something about his wife made all these so important and natural things dissappear.

The silence spoke loud and the sounds of the eating didn't cover enough of it.

This silence wasn't unusual. In fact it was almost always there when you ate breakfast together. So all the time you saw each other.

And no, he didn't like it. For some reason, on which Satoru couldn't put his finger on, he desperately wanted to know you. He wanted to make peace with you, maybe even be friends with you.

But you seemed so untouchable, he couldn't describe it.

"Well…" Satoru cringed at the sound of his voice. "I have to go to work now."

He stood up and made his way to the door where he made himself ready. "See you later. Have a nice da-"

"Wait, Gojo." Your voice sounded so hesitant, it scared him. "Can we talk later?"

As he looked at you, his whole mind went blank. He felt like he was gonna die. Why did you look at him like that? What did you wanna talk about? Why not now?

"Sure, I can try to come home earlier." He tried to keep his voice steady, but his whole strongest being was shaking in fear.

"Great." you nodded with a neutral look that did NOT scream 'Great'. "Then have a good day at work."

"Thank you, you have a nice day too."

He was going to die, wasn't he?

~

"You look like a corpse." Suguru was always soo considerate.

Satoru sighed as he sat down next to his friend. "Just give me the missions."

His best friend raised an eyebrow. "You know, you should attend the meetings for a change. I'm not always gonna be able to get your missions for you."

"Yeah, you are right Suguru, what would I ever do without you? You are such a good friend." Satoru yawned as he waved his hand.

"Would you please be so kind and enlighten me where I have to be today?"

"I'm going to overlook that sarcasm for today." Suguru handed him a piece of paper. "Here's the list for today."

As Satoru looked at the very long list in horror, Suguru spoke again. "But for real, you look terrible. I thought things were going fine in your marriage?"

"Of course they want me working overtime today." Satoru groaned. "I swear one day I will make all of the higher ups-"

"Satoru, what's wrong?"

He stopped in his rant and sighed. "She wants to talk."

Suguru raised his eyebrow again. "And that's bad, why exactly?"

"Because she always looks like I killed her pet or something like that!" Satoru whined and looked at his paper.

"She doesn't like me."

Suguru shrugged with his shoulders. "I mean, you still didn't apologize."

As Satoru didn't say anything, Suguru continued. "And you also don't really talk to her. How can you expect her to like you yet?"

"Yeah, yeah, you're right." Satoru whispered. Holding his list up, he begged Suguru. "Can you take some of my missions? Please?"

Shacking his head, suguru laughed. "That one time was an exception, I had to work three days in a row for that Satoru. I'm sorry but I have lots of missions too. It's the season."

Satoru just nodded. He had seen this coming.

30 missions in only 12 hours?

It would be a challenge. And it would cause him a little trouble.

But would he give up?

He smiled to himself.

~

You didn't have any time anymore.

The letters of your mother became overbearing, asking where you and Gojo will go for your honeymoon. Asking, that you have surely talked with him about it?

No, you didn't. In fact you were too nervous to even look at him.

You were relieved that he didn't seem to despise you, since he and you ate together now. But he also didn't talk to you and that made you question yourself.

Did he even want to talk?

You needed more time. So much more time. How could they all expect, that you could just sleep with him?

No that just was absurd.

"Mrs. Gojo? How are you feeling today?"

Hina really liked you over the time. Her smile somehow made all of this a bit lighter.

How could you survive a week without her? Just with your husband and the pressure to do something?

"Alright. How are you feeling?" you smiled back, trying to hide your nervousness.

"Perfect, like always." She answered right away, bowing a bit. "Would you like a snack?"

You chuckled a bit. "I can get myself a snack, Hina, you really don't have to."

She shook her head. "Nonsense, it is my job to make you food." She smiled at you knowingly. "And I also get paid for it."

You laughed a bit. "Well, I think my husband will keep paying you even when you make me a snack less."

"If you think so Mrs. Gojo." she made a little curtsy and laughed as she went into the kitchen.

You smiled to yourself as you looked after her. You would miss her on your honeymoon.

Oh god the honeymoon…

~

"Could you please just die?!" Gojo was annoyed as fuck as the curse before him just kept sneaking into barriers and hiding from him.

Normally he wouldn't be this mad.

But he had to be home in time today. And as the curse escaped a crazy laugh at him his anger only rose.

His finger twitched. He wanted to just open his domain and make puddle of this pathetic being. But there were still people near and it would be a bit overkill.

So he had to work with red and blue.

And he had to be fast.

"Gojo Satoruuuhuuuuuu." the distorted voice of the curse spoke underneath him. So smugly, that Satoru felt like laughing.

"Found you."

Hollow purple.

As the cursed energy of the curse slowly disappeared Satoru looked at his list. Still 4 curses in 4 locations. And only 30 minutes till 9 pm.

He had to be faster. Before you would think he didn't care.

If there was just one more stupid barrier, he swore he would-

Goddammit.

~

It was almost 8:51 as you thought you should just eat and go to sleep.

Maybe you would find the courage to talk to him tomorrow too and everything would be fine.

Maybe.

"Should we serve dinner, Mrs. Gojo?" Hina looked at you and waited patiently for your answer.

And as you looked at her something in you switched.

"Wait. My husband isn't home yet, we will wait for him."

Hina chuckled and nodded. She smiled knowingly as she went into the kitchen.

You looked at the clock. 8:56 pm.

You sighed as you sat there. Playing with your glass, you wondered.

Would Gojo even want a honeymoon?

If he didn't, that would be a problem. The higher ups were persistent of you two going somewhere in japan to have 'enough time'.

Your glass seemed to shake, nerarly breaking.

What would you do? What would you tell them? What, what, what-

Forcefully the door opened and Gojo stood there.

A Gojo stained with blood, his blindfold pulled down, looking at you with big eyes.

"What did you want to talk-"

"Why are you bloody-"

You talked at the same time, looking confused at each other. You waited for an answer, as he looked at you confused.

"What do you mean, bloody?" he looked down. Then his eyes widened and he chuckled. "Oh, you don't have to worry, it's not mine."

What did he mean 'don't worry'? He looked like he was out of a horror movie!

Perplexed you looked at him. "Is this all from the curses-?"

"Anyway you wanted to talk?" only now he closed the door behind him.

You blinked at him. Two times. Three times. Then you looked down. "Yeah. But if you are to tired, we can also talk tomorrow -" or the day after, or the day after that day, or…

"I'm not too tired, don't worry." He looked behind you at the empty table. "Did you already eat?"

Just as you wanted to answer, Hina stepped in and took the opportunity to speak. "Mrs. Gojo, now that Mr. Gojo is here, should we serve the food?"

You looked at her and just nodded.

"Well, then." Gojo clapped one time. "We can talk as we eat, right? Then let's sit down."

He took your chair and you wanted to ask what he wanted to do, as he pulled it and offered you the seat. You just sat down and muttered a small thanks.

He smiled, he smiled?, and went to his seat on the opposite side of the table looking at you full of expectation.

Your mind was blank. All the words you so carefully constructed to sentences were all gone. The only thing in your head was the question:

What if Gojo didn't want a honeymoon?

"You waited for me to eat?"

You looked up to Gojo and he smiled at you again. Since when was he so talkative??

"Yeah, I did."

Your voice was much more quiet as you wanted. But he didn't seem to mind as he looked at you with that sparkle in his eyes.

Or maybe his eyes always looked like that.

"Thank you. But you don't have to do that. Most of the time I work much too long for you to stay up and not eat."

"Well, maybe we could still eat dinner together sometimes."

Your mouth spoke without your permission and his widening smile made your head dizzy.

"Your food. We hope you enjoy your meal." Hina placed dinner onto the table bowed a bit and then went into the kitchen as fast as she could.

"Soooooo." Gojo looked down at his food. "What did you wanna talk about?"

"Well…" you stopped, weighing your options of what you could say. Oh, just say it. "I wanted to discuss your honeymoon."

As you looked up you saw two big blue eyes blinking at you. "Our honeymoon? Ohhhhhhhhhhhh"

His shoulders visibly starting to relax as he sighed of relief. A smile forming on his lips again. "Whew, I thought I did something wrong. You had me scared, you know."

"I had you scared?" you looked at him in disbelief. "You came in like a madman covered in blood!"

"Oh, trust me." Gojo leaned back. "That's not nearly as terrifying as my wife, when she is angry at me. She can get really mad, you know?"

You couldn't hide the disbelief in your face and just shook your head. But slowly a smile was forming on your lips. "You're stupid."

Satoru chuckled again and took a bite of the food. Then he looked at you again. "Yeah, yeah. But back to the topic."

Leaning a bit forward, he raised an eyebrow. "Where do you want to go for our honeymoon?"

His voice sounded so casually you felt dumb. "Oh, I don't know. I wanted to ask you."

He tilted his head. "Do you even want to have a honeymoon?"

"What-" panic flooded you as you thought about the higher ups. "Of course!"

"If you say so." he didn't seem convinced but nodded. "But there has to be a place you always wanted to go."

You shook your head. "No, not really. You can decide."

His eyes narrowed as he leaned forward. "Is there no country you ever wanted to go to?"

"No!" you spoke so fast, you couldn't stop yourself from your panic taking over. "I mean- I would like to be in Japan."

He kept silent as he inspected you. And then he sighed. "I have nothing against it, if that's what you want. But you seem so on edge."

You looked down. "Sorry. This…" your throat tightens but you manage to say the words in your mind. "It's just very important."

He blinked at you again and then smiled so softly, you didn't know Satoru could even look at you like that. "It's okay, but if you are too focused on making it perfect, it sabotages itself, doesn't it?"

You couldn't bear his words. The voice of your mother played so loudly in your right ear.

Be a good wife. Be a good wife. Be a good wife be a good wife beagoodwife-

"Would you like to go to a quiet place?" Satoru chuckled to himself. "I wouldn't say no to it."

He looked so sincere. Never before had he talked to you like that. Of course you did have some small talk about his day and what you read the last day, but he seemed so relaxed and like himself right now.

Was this the charismatic Gojo Satoru so many people told you about?

"I would like that." you whispered.

"Hina?" His gaze focused on the girl who quickly emerged from the kitchen. "You and your grandma lived in Shirahama, didn't you?"

She nodded quickly and smiled. "Yes, it's nice there. A bit of the ocean to see and plenty of nature."

She looked at you expectantly. "It's really relaxing, Mrs. Gojo."

Somehow, her shy look made you smile too. "Well, we'll have to go and see it then."

Hina smiled at you with sparkling eyes and bowed a bit again. "You won't regret it!"

"Definitely not!" Satoru laughed a bit. "Then that's settled."

"What-" he looked at his food and continued eating without a care in the world. How could he just carelessly think that that was it?

"But we still have to discuss everything with the higher-ups!"

The atmosphere became much colder along with his gaze. He had stopped eating and his gaze pierced you.

His figure suddenly sitting up straight, his arms to the side, he raised his head.

"Why should I discuss our honeymoon with them?"

The words were caught up in your throat.

You looked down at your food and tried to justify your silence by eating.

"Did you just want to talk to me because of them?" his voice was so much colder than it had been seconds before.

You frantically swallowed your food. "No, I… It wasn't that, really!"

The lies were hard to get off your lips. But he couldn't know about the meetings, no, he simply couldn't!

He was silent. His gaze was lowered and you could no longer see his beautiful blue eyes.

"I wanted to… Get to know you better. We hardly know each other." You pointed to the food table.

"I think it's good that we're eating together now, but that hardly adds anything. I just wanted… For us to have more time together."

When he still didn't say anything, you lowered your head too. "It's just… I thought we still had to organize everything with them? Because of your work and clan duties?"

Gojo chuckled and you heard him looking up. "As if they could fight back. We can just leave."

His voice halled through the room. "And we will tomorrow."

"What?" Shocked, you looked at him. "You can't be serious, can you?"

A huge grin was forming on his face. "You still have to learn how serious I can be. We're leaving tomorrow."

He pulled out his cell phone and typed something. "One of my clan employees will arrange our trip."

"Gojo, we can't just leave!"

"Why not?" he looked deep into your eyes. "Why can't we just say 'fuck them'?"

You shook your head. "Maybe you could, Gojo, but not me! I would disgrace my clan!"

Gojo stood up abruptly. "This is our honeymoon! Your honeymoon! What they think doesn't matter! You're my wife now, those bastards have to respect you! Understand that!"

"It's not that simple." You could only whisper.

He shook his head. "Nevertheless let's go tomorrow. I'll write a letter to your mother and explain that I just took you with me."

He approached your seat. "You wouldn't be to blame."

As if she would think it wasn't your fault. They'd all curse you because then they wouldn't know where you two even were.

But wasn't that what you wanted?

"I'm going to sleep." Determined, you headed for your room. You needed to clear your thoughts.

"We can talk about it again in the morning. And maybe go straight away." He followed you to your door.

"There would be consequences." Something in your voice trembled. "Just running off like that."

And as you stood there, your door to your room already in your hand, he stepped right behind you. His body closer than ever.

Shouldn't Infinity be pushing you back? Why could you feel his warmth, almost feel his breath?

"I could handle that." His hand now held your door.

"I want to get to know you better too."

With that, he let go of your door and left you standing in the hallway, confused.

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[cevansbrat0007]

The Slam

Summary: Ari has had a enough of your TikTok foolishness...

Warnings: Mature Themes, Ari Being A Menace, Bickering, Brat!Reader, Prank Foolishness, References to P in V sex, Cursing, Minors DNI

A/N: Part of my Sweet Renegade Series. Semi-proofread, not beta'd. All mistakes are my own. Likes, comments, and reblogs are always appreciated. Thanks for reading!

Now that you’ve gotten your first TikTok prank under your belt, you found you needed more. It was as if a beast – for lack of better phrasing – had been awoken inside of you. And it demanded that you served the world chaos.

At your man’s expense.

While you’d gone a little bigger the first time around, today you’d decided to dial it back just a touch. Lately you’d been watching videos of women slamming their boyfriend’s and husband’s car door after what seemed to be the most innocent of conversations. 

In retaliation, some of them yelled confused obscenities, or honked horns, others simply appeared content to stew in whatever resentment had already been brewing beneath the surface. 

Regardless, almost all of them were funny. And not only that, but you got the distinct feeling that Ari wouldn’t appreciate it. His truck was precious to him. 

Almost as precious as you. 

This morning you choose to test your luck when Ari is kind enough to drop you by your place so that you can switch out purses and grab your makeup bag before heading out for lunch. You can tell that he doesn’t fully understand the reason you need either of those things. 

In fact, when you told him what you needed, he’d been swift to grunt something to the effect of how you already looked “perfectly good to him as it was”. And although it had made the butterflies in your belly do their special little flutter that was reserved for when you received compliments just from him, you pushed him to make the stop anyway.

In part because you needed those things, but also because you wanted to fuck with him a bit.

“I promise I’ll be super quick.” You tell him, hastily undoing your seatbelt as he pulls up in your driveway. 

“Still don’t get why you needed to come here.” Your bounty hunter was hungry, and therefore also a little grumpy. “You’re already the prettiest little thing I’ve ever set my eyes on without all the extra froufrou shit.”

“You would really have me walk into a restaurant with you with a bare face?”

“Baby, real talk, I’d be proud to have you on my arm if you were wearing nothing but a paper bag.” Comes his quiet, but sincere rebuttal. 

It’s enough to make you melt.

 “You’re sweet.” 

“Uh huh.” He huffs, throwing his truck in park. “And women are weird. Besides, all that makeup looks better on my pillow anyway.”

“Pretty sure you’re not supposed to call us weird. Could’ve sworn you were supposed to be intrigued by the feminine mystique.” You tell him, poking him in the ribs for good measure.

“Weird.” Ari huffs again, clearly not moved by your response.  

“Mystique – you jerk.” Feeling slightly miffed, you decide to steal a sip of his water. 

“Can you please just go get the bag and war paint before I waste away from hunger?” You bat his hand away when he leans forward to open your door and usher you out his vehicle. “My stomach is literally trying to eat itself and you wanna fuckin’ argue.” 

“I am capable of opening it myself, thank you very much.” You hiss without any real heat before grabbing the handle.   

“Then I would very much appreciate it if you did that so we can get this show on the road.”

“Okay, okay.” You finally relent. “I’m sorry. Gimme a kiss and I’ll go–”

Ari’s mouth is on yours so fast it’s almost comical. He cups your face with calloused hands, stroking his thumbs across your temples as he does. But unfortunately, just as you’re about to sink into the kiss, he pulls away.

“Now get.” He growls, before opening the door and effectively shooing you out. 

“Fine.” Climbing out of his truck, you decide that this is your moment. “Be right back.” Closing your eyes, you give it up to the Lord before slamming Ari’s door hard. 

Actually a little harder than you intended. Ah, well. 

Grimacing, you begin to half walk, half run for your front door. After all, there was such a thing as being too brave for this world. And you’d actually felt his vehicle rattle with the force with which you’d put behind it. There was no way this man would not respond. There was no way–

“Aye!” Your shoulders automatically hunch of their own volition when you hear him throw open his own door in protest. You haven’t even made it to the front porch. ”The hell was that about?”

“What?” You try to play dumb.

“Bird. Stop.” 

It’s the calm authority in his voice that has you freezing in your tracks. It’s the same reason your panties are soaked too. Teeth sinking into your bottom lip, you turn around and face Ari.

“What–”

“I’m gonna need you to walk your pretty little ass back over here, baby.” He quirks a tawny brow when your legs don’t immediately start moving. “Now.”    

“Beast, I need to go inside and–”

“Ass. Here. Now. Please.” Ari tacks on the last word when he sees you frown. However, the frown stays in place as you march back over to where he’s standing, or now leaning, against the side of his truck.

“Thank you.” He grunts before cupping your cheek, drawing you forward. “Now, is there a reason you’re out here slammin’ my shit and spikin’ my blood pressure? Does this have somethin’ to do with that whole feminine mystique business again?”

As he talks, you find it hard to resist the urge to run your fingers through his newly shorn beard. You’d hung out in the bathroom with him this morning while he trimmed it, wearing nothing but a pair of panties and one of his shirts. 

“No.” You breathe, your nostrils flaring when that same hand moves, gently lacing itself around your throat.

“You pissed at me for somethin’?” His electric blue eyes search yours for answers.

“Um…nope.” 

“You tryin’ to pick a fight?”

“Also no.” You tell him as your hand comes up to wrap around his thick wrist. “It was a joke I saw on TikTok and–.”

“Christ, I’m gonna stop you.” Ari blinks twice before forcing himself to take a deep breath. “Since you and I don’t have a problem, I’m gonna let you go inside and fetch your things. You have five minutes, or I’m comin’ in after you.”

“To do what?” You can’t help the pout that forms on your lips. Sometimes this man really had no sense of humor. “Because I‘m gonna need more time than that to put on my face.”

The look this man gives you lets you know that you are absolutely trying his patience – every last piece of it. 

“You got five minutes.” Ari repeats, his thumb stroking over your pulse point. “Or I’m gonna come in there and personally take my time making sure all that makeup ends up in its proper place where it belongs.” 

“But that’s not fair!”

“Neither is subjecting me to shit you see on that damned hickory dickory dock crap you watch all the time, and yet here we are.” He leans down to brush his lips against your forehead. “Now go.”

Ari finally releases you before pulling out his phone, and it takes him only a second for him to show it to you, letting you see that he’s started a timer. And it is quickly counting down. 

“You got five minutes, sweetheart.” He winks at you then, before breaking into full blown laughter when you turn to make a break for your front door. “Otherwise I’m comin’ in after you, and it’s gonna be what it’s gonna be.” 

Forget the purse. You decide you’re better off snagging the makeup and beating it back to the truck before the timer strikes zero.   

“Bastard.” You grumble under your breath – which only makes him laugh harder.

“You just lost yourself thirty seconds for that one. Better run, Bird.” 

END

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[klaus-littlestwolf]

Now You’re Mine-Modern Mafia!Aemond

(This is a Mafia!Aemond/Mafia!Targaryen family fic that I’ve been working on for a little while. However I saw a post the other day of someone mentioning wanting to read Mafia!Aemond and it got me back into this to finish it. I hope everyone likes it because I definitely want to write more like this for our one eyed bby)

Aemond had been your best friend for years now. Helaena and you had met the first day of college and the two of you had become inseparable, leading to her actually offering you a job at her brothers company. That’s how you and Aemond first met, though sadly at that point you already had a job at your boyfriends publishing company (it was actually his fathers but it would be his someday and he knew how to act like it).

Every day that you weren’t with Jason Lannister you would be with Aemond. He somehow always seemed to have off days when you did, always available for you whenever you wanted or needed him.

Aemond was always there for you, often spending last minute evenings with you when your boyfriend had to work late again. You always found it sweet how much it bothered Aemond that he wouldn’t take a day off for you or spend any time with you other than work or your date nights but you didn’t mind.

“That’s exactly why you deserve it Love, you don’t expect people to take time off for you, but you deserve to be someone’s most important, if you were mine you’d be my priority…”

You often found yourself wondering what could have happened if you had never met Jason but even then Aemond was like a Greek God. Even with the eye patch (which in your opinion only made him hotter) he was 1000% out of your league.

However you could always count on him, that’s why he was your first call when Jason fired you upon you catching him fucking his assistant in his office.

‘You can’t fire me just because I caught you cheating, that’s against the law! I would sue the fuck out of you!’ You glared as he pulled his pants back on without a worry in the world which made you even more angry. He clearly didn’t care that you had caught him in the least...

‘You’re kidding, right? Y/n, you’re a girl I gave a job to because you had a tight pussy and a good work ethic. You’re also broke as fuck.’ He cackled.

Well…he wasn’t wrong about that…

‘I have my fathers lawyers, they would tie you up in court until you’re destitute and homeless, then you’ll be wishing you had shut your sweet little cock sucker and just accepted being fired…are you rethinking your response to me now sweetheart?’ He asked condescendingly and you glared.

‘Don’t ever call me that again!’ He rolled his eyes, catching his assistant, Madison’s arm as she tried to leave the awkward conversation.

‘You always did have an attitude. Alright, let’s do it like this. Clean break. You leave now, I keep what’s mine and you keep what’s yours, and the company pays you in full for 3 months so you can find another job. You’ll never find a better one but at least it won’t be on my conscience when you are selling yourself on the street.’ He snorted, pulling some papers out of his desk and signing a few things.

How had you not seen how big of a dick this guy is?

You had of course, but you had assumed you were the exception…how stupid could you be? Every night he was “working late” or on a “business trip”…he was cheating on you…so fucking stupid!

‘Fine. Give me the papers and I’ll be gone.’ You responded but he pulled them out of your reach.

‘Clean break. You give back everything I gave you.’ He looked at your neck and you rolled your eyes, removing the necklace he had given you.

‘You think I care about your cheap jewelry? Keep it!’ You snapped, removing the bracelet and the earrings as well.

‘Cheap? Okay…well then you don’t need my cheap clothes either. I bought you that outfit.’ Your eyes widened as the smirk grew on his face, however you would not let this asshole win. And honestly you would never see any of these people again…fuck it!

It was Jason’s turn to look shocked as you began unbuttoning your shirt and pulling it off, tossing it to his table before removing your skirt as well and holding your hand out for the paperwork. He just stared in shock and you snatched the papers, seeing them already signed by him. ‘I’ll collect my things and be on my way.’ You held in the tears as you walked from his office, everyone clearly knowing what had happened as it wasn’t quiet at all, and the tears finally fell as you got to your door and shut it, moving to grab your cellphone quickly and hesitating as you considered who to call. All of your friends are his friends…you could call Helaena but she’s on vacation with her boyfriend Cregan for their anniversary this week, Aemond is working…but he said to call anytime you needed him and this felt like an emergency as you stood there in your bra and panties…you bit the bullet and hit his contact which was the first number in your phone.

‘Hello Love, what’s up? You never call at work. Been missin’ me?’ He teased but all you could do was sniffle and continue crying. ‘Hey…what’s wrong hun? You can’t call me crying and not talk to me, what’s happened?!’

‘Can-Can you come g-get me? Please? I can’t call an Uber like this…please?’ You knew you didn’t need to beg but it just came out, Aemond always made you feel safe.

‘I’m on my way right now! Give me 5 minutes Love, I’m coming! Do you need anything?’

‘I’m g-gonna need a change of c-clothes…I’m sorry!’ He shushed you instantly, telling his driver something before speaking again.

‘Don’t you ever apologize to me, you know how much I adore you, that will never change and as soon as that idiot fucks up I’ll be right there. But until then I will be personally offended if you don’t call me when you need help…do you want to tell me what happened?’

‘I’ll tell you in the car. I have to get my stuff and clean my face-I can’t go out there like this…can you just text me when you’re here?’ I asked and he huffed a sigh.

‘Okay. I’ll be there in 3 minutes.’ With that he hung up, leaving you to wonder how many traffic laws were being broken today. You moved to pack everything into your purse, making sure you had everything that was yours and everything you couldn’t bear to leave behind. You also grabbed your client list just in case because you knew most of them wouldn’t want to work with anyone else and you would happily give their business to Aemond’s uncle Daemon’s publishing company instead (the man adored you from the moment Helaena first brought you to a family BBQ and he often turned his nose up at mentions of your boyfriend, Daemon Hates All Lannisters!). You looked through all of your drawers just hoping to find a jacket or something but there was nothing leaving you in your bra and panties. At least it was a cute set, you had gotten it on a day trip with Aemond and Helaena who had enjoyed shopping for clothes with you, dragging you into an overtly expensive lingerie shop. It had just been you dreaming of the expensive clothes at first but Aemond insisted and bought you 4 sets. He tried for 10 more but you drew the line…at least he has taste in choosing the lacy embroidered black bra and pantie set, and Thank God it’s not a thong that you’re wearing today!

It was exactly 3 minutes when Aemond texted you that he was walking in and you quickly told him to wait in the lobby. You grabbed your bag and left the keys hung on the door as you walked out, everyone staring at you yet again as you got onto the elevator. One of Jason’s asshole buddies did a double take as he stepped out and tried to step back in.

‘No! Out!’ You hissed and he listened, clearly smarter than his friend is. As the elevator dinged you squeezed your eyes shut, waiting for the laughter at your sad, pathetic situation. Aemond had repeatedly told you to break up with the asshole you were dating and now he was going to get to say “I told you so”.

As you walked around the front desk he turned to see you and his jaw dropped in shock, it was a face you had never seen Aemond make honestly as his wide eyes took you in. As if his brain finally finished computing what he was seeing he moved towards you quickly, ripping his jacket off and wrapping it around you, taking your bag and holding the jacket shut.

‘Fucking Christ! What Happened Y/n?!’ He demanded but his yelling only brought another round of tears which ended with him pulling you close and holding you to his chest. ‘It’s okay, you’re safe now Pretty Girl, I’ve got you.’ He lifted you up awkwardly across his chest so that he could make sure the jacket didn’t move and expose you all over again before he carried you out of the building. You could tell from the way he was walking that he was livid and you just nuzzled your face closer into his neck, knowing that Aemond loved it when you snuggled into him. He climbed into the car and held you on his lap as he snapped at Arryk to drive you both home.

‘No-you have to work! I don’t want-‘

‘Don’t even dare Y/n! You are way more important than a couple of meetings. Arryk will text Aegon and let him know that we need to reschedule, besides he has done this to me so many times because of his never ending hangovers, it’s nice to get him back.’ He joked, clearly just trying to make you smile but you didn’t. ‘Please tell me now Love? What happened?’ His voice was soft and caring which somehow just made it worse as you roughly wiped at your tears all over again which he stopped, taking your hands and holding them in one of his much larger ones, pulling out his pocket square and wiping your face softly. ‘Breathe Y/n, you’re okay now. No one will ever hurt you again…just trust me.’

His eye was so soft as he looked down at you and you knew you could trust Aemond with anything.

‘Jason cheated on me…he was fucking her in his office when I came in…I was pissed but I was even more pissed when he fired me-‘

‘He can’t fire you for that! That’s-‘

‘I know. But he made it clear that I would be broke and homeless by the time it even got to court. He signed papers to pay me for 3 months so I can find a job, I just had to return everything he gave me…thank you for buying me the underwear or I might be naked right now.’ You teased but he did not seem to find humor in the situation.

‘Did you sign anything?’ You shook your head, pointing to the paperwork sticking out of your bag and he took them, looking over it and never once letting you free from the grip that he had on you. ‘Don’t worry Princess, I’m going to take care of this. He will pay for this, I promise you.’

Aemond pressed his lips to your head, keeping the jacket wrapped around you firmly.

‘I need to sign them to get the money, I’m not going to be able to pay my-‘

‘You don’t need to pay for anything. I’m taking care of you now-‘ you lifted your head quickly and he looked down at you, the look in his eye daring you to argue with him right now.

‘I can’t let you pay my bills Aem, that’s not right. It’s my fault that I-‘ not a second later Aemond’s large hand closed over your mouth and your eyes widened.

‘Nothing is your fault! Do you understand me?’ He asked firmly. ‘He is an asshole and he’s taking advantage of someone that he thinks can’t fight back but he is going to learn not to fuck with what belongs to me.’

‘I-‘

‘And Yes, you belong to me Y/n. I made it very clear what would happen when he fucked up. I told you that you would be mine. That day has come, Princess. Now, let’s get you some clothes.’ You just barely noticed that the car had stopped before the door was opened and Aemond slid out, his grip somehow tightening as he carried you into the high rise apartment building and up to his place before moving straight to his bedroom.

‘Aem, I thought we were joking, you don’t have to-‘

‘Let’s get one thing straight, Love.’ He told you as he set you onto his bed which was wildly comfortable. God you need a nap. ‘I don’t do anything that I don’t want to do. I never have and I never will. You’ve been mine since the day we met, I just allowed you time to end things with that moron on your own. However, now he has hurt you and that is unacceptable. Take the jacket off.’ He instructed before moving to a drawer and pulling out a Henley, helping you pull it over your head and cover yourself to your mid thigh at least. ‘You know how much I love you, you have to by now. Every single member of my family has been waiting for us to get together, even my stupid nephews ship us…you are my everything…and I should have told you a long time ago. For that I am sorry but I’m not letting you go and I am certainly Not letting him get away with this unpunished. I will have him ripped apart in court before I have him ripped apart for real, my family has warned him already. He will never feel anything but pain again for what he’s done to my Princess.’ Aemond didn’t hesitate even a second before leaning down and pressing his lips to yours. You couldn’t count the amount of times you had dreamt of kissing him and it was better than you could have imagined as your stomach did flips, his soft lips pressed to yours prompting you to wrap your arms around his neck and tangle your fingers in his short silver locks. ‘Who in their right mind would ever even dream of fucking another girl while they have you? I will never understand that idiot…You’re Fucking Perfect.’ He mumbled against your mouth as his hands took your waist, squeezing your ass on the way down to your thighs where he lifted you up to straddle his lap.

‘Does it sound bad to say that I would have left him if you had just told me before.’ He shook his head, pulling back from the kiss and holding you to him firmly.

‘Of course not-we were meant to be Y/n. You’re mine now baby…say it. Tell me who you belong to.’ He was desperate to hear it from your mouth and you didn’t think there was anything you wouldn’t give him if he asked right now.

‘All yours Aemond, I’m yours. I love you, I’ve always loved you!’ And you truly had, since the night Helaena introduced you, your crush on the one eyed Targaryen grew quickly out of control. It was half of the reason you stayed with Jason as long as you did, so that you were never tempted to admit it and ruin your friendship since you never believed Aemond would see you as anything but his best friend.

‘I love you too, and I’m going to take care of you now. First I’ll get you some pants, I texted and scheduled a meeting with Daemon in the car and he can call his lawyers. You are suing his company and you will have the best lawyers in the country behind you.’

‘But I can’t-‘

‘Then we’re going to go and pack you a bag of your essentials because you’re coming to stay right here with me. No worrying about bills or anything like that, I’m taking care of my girl now. We can worry about “moving you in” later.’ You felt the dark blush on your cheeks at the idea of him taking care of you, it sounds too perfect to be real.

‘I don’t want you to waste all of that money on me-‘ he quickly cut you off again.

‘Nothing is wasted on you, let me spoil you. I want you to see him cry before I kill him, and honestly Daemon is going to be thrilled to get rid of him finally.’

‘What do you-‘

‘Don’t pretend you don’t know. We appreciate your ignorance but you’re mine now, that officially makes you a member of this family and you’ve known about us for almost as long as you’ve known me. You had to have also deduced that the Lannisters are members of the Mafia as well, though our relationship is…complicated. They were warned and he hurt you anyway, his whole family knows what this means and he brought it on himself. Now-let’s get you dressed.’

Aemond leant me some of Helaena’s pants, having plenty of her clothes in his guest room, before we got back into his car and were driven to Daemons company…well-one of them at least. He owns like 10.

‘Well, this is a surprise. Not only are you late nephew, but you’ve brought a guest. Aren’t you supposed to be with that little shit of a boyfriend at this time of day?’ Daemon questioned as we sat down never looking up from his papers, though as I moved to sit in the chair beside Aemond he promptly pulled me into his lap, wrapping his arms around me.

‘Y/n doesn’t work for him anymore.’ Daemon looked up from his paperwork and his eyes widened at our position before smirking.

‘Do tell nephew.’

‘She was fired for finding him cheating on her. He gave her these, I’m going to need the lawyers to look at these today.’ Daemon read over the papers quickly before laughing out loud.

‘I can’t believe the idiot signed these. He’s dumber than I ever even thought…do you want us to sue him though? It will be in your name, you have to go through with this…can you do that, sweet girl?’ He asked, eyebrows raised as if expecting me to have issues with all of this.

‘Sue him all you want, I was promised a dead body at the end of this.’ I stated and his eyes widened before he grinned, teeth showing in a way that makes most people feel like prey. Maybe the Targaryens really do come from dragons…

‘I knew I liked you. You’re doing us some good, finally giving us a reason to get rid of them once and for all. Good girl.’

‘Watch it…’ Aemond growled.

‘He told me I could never do anything about it, that he only hired me for my tight pussy and work ethic before taking back the clothes he bought me and forcing me to walk out in my underwear…I want him to lose everything before he dies and I want it to fucking hurt!’ Daemon looked stunned for a moment, his eyes darkening.

‘He did what?’ Aemond nodded and Daemon hummed. ‘I’ll get on this immediately. He’ll have the lawsuit on his desk before the end of the day.’

It was 8 o’clock in the evening and I was snuggled up against Aemond’s side in bed, enjoying my boyfriend feeding me my dessert when my phone rang a familiar ringtone and I showed him Jason’s picture. ‘Ooh, I expected this but Daemon really does work fast.’ Aemond chuckled, turning on his phone to record the call and I answered mine, putting it on speaker.

‘Hel-‘

‘What The Fuck Do You Think You’re Doing Bitch?!’ He snapped and I could only roll my eyes.

‘Exactly what I said. You knew I could sue you and you fired me anyway, practically signed your name to the crime with that paperwork. You would never pay me three months out if I had actually done something worth getting fired for. You’re an idiot.’ The pride in Aemond’s eyes was something that put my mind at ease, I knew I would be fine with him here and Daemon as well with how pissed off he has been made. Their whole family is pissed off now if the texts I had gotten from most of them all day told me anything. Even Aegon, who was usually too drunk or high to even lift his head in my presence was angry on my behalf.

‘This will never hold up, you can’t afford to take this to court-‘

‘You’re forgetting the fact that I have friends who are happy to help me. Ones that already don’t like you that you’ve just pissed off more now.’ He hesitated to answer for a moment.

‘No, I don’t believe you. Your little friendship with Helaena isn’t enough to make that family do shit! Not against mine for no reason, we-‘

‘I’m also…friends…with Aemond, remember? And they introduced me to their whole family who I seem to have grown on quite a lot. Especially their Uncle who I’ve found is quite happy to help me after you forced me to return the jewelry and clothes that you gave me just so I could get paid after you unjustly fired me. It seems finding out that you made me walk around in my underwear was quite a kick in the ass for Daemon to sue you quickly-well, me to sue you, him to help me. You really should have just broken up with me right, I probably would have tried to find another job and left but you had to do this. Pretty dumb.’ As I finished speaking Aemond brought the fork to my mouth, feeding me another piece of cake as if rewarding me and I loved it.

‘You dirty cunt. Are you fucking him?! You got all high and mighty on me and you’re fucking your friends Married Uncle?! What the-‘

‘Not quite, Jason.’ Aemond spoke making me giggle. ‘My Uncle just has a soft spot for her you see, she’s such a sweet girl. How anyone can not love her I don’t know, even your family did, didn’t they?’ I nodded, enjoying the rest of my dessert while he spoke. ‘We will be handling the lawyers so you can try to stall this if you’d like but it won’t work. And I’ll let you be the one to tell your father that you’ve made an enemy of a family that he depended on quite heavily.’ He had stopped recording by now as his voice grew darker, clearly hating the idiot on the other line. ‘You have until morning to let your family know what you did, oh and don’t bother deleting the footage from the cameras yesterday, Daemon has already gotten it. If you were smart enough in the first place that is.’

‘Bye Jason!’ I giggled as Aemond moved to hang up.

‘You Fucking-‘ with that he was gone and Aemond blocked his number from my phone.

‘We’re probably going to have to get you a new number.’ He teased.

I’m considering a part 2 with Aemond getting even with Jason…and a little smut🥰

Aemond Targaryen Masterlist

[moonstruckme]

hi mae! i’m not sure if you’ve done this already but i was wondering you could write james x slytherin reader where she heard some things being said about her and was feeling angsty but james was there to comfort her! btw, i love your writing! <3

Thank you lovely!

cw: academic competition (plus some anxiety), reader is a bit mean to be honest which isn't me trying to shit on slytherins it's just how it came out

James Potter x slytherin!reader ♡ 750 words

There’s something wrong with you. James has been thwacking his wand against his book relentlessly for the past thirty minutes, and you’ve not done so much as cut a look his way. And he knows the jumper he gave you when you shivered is your least favorite (that, he would’ve avoided if all his others didn’t need to be washed), but you haven’t complained even once about how the knit itches against your skin. You’re only laid placidly on your stomach next to him on the bed, scribbling away at your notes with a familiar dent between your brows that seems yet deeper than usual. 

“Hey.” James bumps your shoulder with his lightly. “Have you started Slughorn’s essay?” 

“Mhm,” you hum distractedly. “Finished last night.” 

He grins. “Course you have. Any insights into what he meant by the second question? The wording’s stumped me.” 

You don’t even sigh reluctantly as you lean over to look at his parchment. James’ concern for you worsens. 

“I think he means that he wants us to theorize about a potential mixture by using our knowledge about existing ones.” 

“Ahh, I see.” James thought the same thing, but it never hurt anyone to get a second opinion, especially if that second opinion seemed to need cheering and thrived off academic validation. He plants a smacking kiss on your cheek. “Thanks, lovie.” 

“That’s just how I interpreted it,” you add. “I’m not certain.” 

“Yeah, okay.” James abandons his reading and rolls onto his side. “What’s going on with you?” 

“I’m just trying to do my homework, James,” you say tiredly, going back to your own parchment. 

“No,” he says certainly, “something’s wrong. You’ve just second-guessed your answer.” 

“And what? Just because I’m not positive means something has to be wrong?” You give him a sideways look, the first hint of annoyance he’s had from you all afternoon. It tells him he’s on the right track. 

“Something like that.” James reaches up to your temple, playing with your hair in the way you pretend to hate but secretly love. “Also, you were fine this morning but ever since you got back from class you’ve seemed down.” 

You harumph, as good as an admission. 

“Don’t hold out on me,” he coaxes. “Something happened during class, yeah?” 

You pretend to be reading something on your paper, not looking at your boyfriend. “Nothing important. Collins called me stuck up, but I hardly give a shit what she thinks.” 

James feels his eyebrows rise. “Siobhan said that?” 

You grunt in affirmation. 

“During class?”

“Well, she hardly waited ‘til we were in private.” 

He strokes down some of your baby hairs thoughtfully. “Sweetheart, do you remember last week in class when Siobhan tried to answer a question in Astronomy?” 

You scoff. “Yeah, she thought Jupiter had sixty five moons. What a dunce.” 

“Right. And you told her that to her face, remember?” 

“What’s your point, James?” 

“I’m just thinking,” he says carefully, “that Siobhan might’ve taken offense to that. And, perhaps, she may have wanted to try to embarrass you like you embarrassed her.” 

Your hair falls away from James’ fingers as you sit up, irate. “Well, that’s stupid,” you say. “I called her a dunce for missing an easy question, and she called me stuck up just because I did better on the Herbology quiz than her.” 

“Sounds like she’s jealous,” he agrees. “But I mean, it’s hardly your fault. You’re smart.” 

“I know!” James has to smother a grin at the return of his normal, confident girl. You cross your arms over your chest, huffy. “And I don’t even rub it in everyone’s faces all of the time, which I could.” 

“Best to let it lie, sweetheart.” He sits up to give you a kiss, pleased when you relax under his touch. “The poor girl’s already down in the dumps. Don’t let her get to you.” 

“You’re right,” you say, and now James can’t keep his grin at bay. That’s not something he gets to hear often. “Don’t look at me like that,” you snipe. “I’m just saying, she’s probably suffering enough. It would be difficult to be that dense.” 

James laughs. He plants another kiss on your lips, making you scowl. “That’s my girl.” 

[sunrenity]

BITTER AND SWEET  、SJY

ㅤ୨ৎㅤ after fake dating you for a few months, sim jake thinks he's actually fallen for you, that maybe his small crush is not so small anymore.

sim jakeㅤ✶ㅤfemale readerㅤ ｡｡｡ ㅤfake dating, enemies(?) to lovers, fluff, college auㅤⓘㅤkissing, skinship, angst(?), ends on a cliffhanger i thinkㅤwcㅤ2847ㅤℬookshelfㅤzehra's note.ㅤthis jake has me giggling and kicking my feet…

you never thought you'd find yourself in a situation like this, and certainly not with someone like jake sim. the whole idea of fake dating was ludicrous, but desperate times called for desperate measures. your clingy ex had become a problem, and apparently, so had jake’s. you two couldn't stand each other on most days, but this scheme seemed mutually beneficial enough to warrant a temporary truce.

"are you seriously suggesting this?" jake asked, leaning back against the library table and crossing his arms. his tone was incredulous, almost mocking, as if he couldn't believe he was even entertaining the idea.

"yes, i am," you replied firmly, not breaking eye contact. the library was quiet except for the occasional rustle of paper or click of a keyboard. "it's the only way to get our exes off our backs. pretend to date, make it look convincing, and they'll eventually give up."

jake scoffed, running a hand through his dark hair, the strands falling perfectly back into place. "and what happens when they find out it's all a sham?"

you shrugged. "by then, it won’t matter. they’ll have moved on."

he stared at you for a long moment, his eyes searching your face for any sign of hesitation. finally, he sighed. "alright. let's do it. but we set some ground rules."

"obviously," you agreed. "rule one: we keep this strictly business. no real feelings involved."

"agreed. rule two: we make sure we’re seen together in public, but no over-the-top pda. it needs to look natural."

"fine with me. rule three: we communicate. if something isn’t working, we discuss it."

jake nodded. "deal."

the first few weeks were awkward, to say the least. you had to learn each other’s habits, preferences, and little quirks. it was like an accelerated crash course in getting to know someone you supposedly hated.

one afternoon, you were seated at a picnic table on campus, pretending to enjoy a lazy afternoon together. jake handed you a coffee, the familiar scent wafting up from the cup. “i noticed you always get it with two sugars and a splash of milk,” he said, his tone almost nonchalant.

you blinked, surprised. “thanks. i didn’t realize you paid attention.”

he shrugged, sitting down next to you. “i figure if we’re going to pull this off, we need to know these things.”

the campus was bustling with activity: students chatting, bikes whizzing by, and groups studying on the lawn. you and jake needed to blend in, so you leaned into him slightly, your shoulder brushing against his. he stiffened for a moment, then relaxed, putting an arm around your shoulders. to anyone else, you looked like a perfectly happy couple, but to your friends, it was a carefully crafted illusion.

weeks turned into months, and you both fell into a routine that felt oddly comfortable. your exes had seemingly taken the bait, backing off as they saw you and jake together more often. the initial awkwardness began to fade, replaced by a strange kind of camaraderie.

"how was your day?" jake asked one evening as you walked together down a tree-lined street. the sun was setting, casting a warm, golden glow over everything. it was one of those rare moments when you felt at ease around him.

you glanced at him, noting the genuine curiosity in his eyes. "not bad. busy, but manageable. what about you?"

he shrugged. "same old. classes, practice, more classes." he paused, looking at you with a small smile. "but hey, at least we’re fooling everyone, right?"

you laughed softly. "yeah, we are."

jake's hand brushed against yours as you walked, and without thinking, you entwined your fingers with his. it was supposed to be just another part of the act, but something about it felt different this time. the touch lingered, warm and reassuring, sending a shiver down your spine.

a few days later, jake suggested a movie night at his place, a plan that you quickly agreed to. you arrived at his dorm to find it unexpectedly cozy. he had dimmed the lights, set up a stack of your favorite movies, and even had snacks laid out.

"wow, you went all out," you remarked, genuinely impressed by the effort he had put in.

jake chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck, a hint of a blush creeping up his cheeks. "well, i figured if we’re going to do this, we might as well enjoy it, right?"

you smiled, feeling a warmth spread through your chest. as the evening wore on, you found yourself laughing more than you had in a long time. you and jake settled into the couch, the distance between you shrinking until you were practically leaning on him.

midway through the second movie, you felt jake’s gaze on you. you turned to find him looking at you with an intensity that made your heart skip a beat. the flickering light from the tv cast shadows across his face, highlighting the seriousness in his eyes.

"what?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper, your heart racing.

he shook his head, a small smile playing on his lips. "nothing. just… you’re not as bad as i thought."

you rolled your eyes, but you couldn't hide your smile. "gee, thanks. you’re not so terrible yourself."

the moment stretched on, the air thick with unspoken words. without realizing it, you had moved closer, your faces inches apart. you could feel the warmth of his breath, see the flicker of uncertainty in his eyes. the world outside seemed to disappear, leaving just the two of you in that moment.

before you could think better of it, you closed the gap, pressing your lips to his. for a heartbeat, everything stopped. then jake responded, his kiss gentle but filled with a surprising amount of emotion. his hand came up to cradle your face, his touch tender and careful, as if he was afraid you might disappear.

you melted into the kiss, the sensation of his lips against yours sending a thrill through your entire body. time seemed to stand still, the world outside fading into oblivion. all that mattered was the warmth of his touch, the softness of his lips, and the unspoken connection that seemed to blossom between you.

when you finally pulled away, you were both breathless, your hearts pounding in sync. jake’s thumb traced your cheek, his eyes searching yours with a vulnerability that made your heart ache.

"is this still part of the act?" he asked softly, his voice tinged with uncertainty.

the realization fully sank in as you looked into his eyes, your own emotions swirling within you. you had kissed jake sim, and it had felt more real than anything you had experienced before. but why did it also feel so wrong? panic gripped you, a surge of confusion and fear making your chest tighten. you weren't ready to confront these feelings, not yet.

without thinking again, you blurted out, "yes," the word escaping your lips like a lifeline to sanity. you stood up abruptly, almost knocking over the bowl of popcorn on the table, and began gathering your things. your movements were frantic, desperate to escape the suffocating tension that had settled between you.

jake's expression shifted from vulnerable to hurt, his eyes widening in shock. "wait, what? why?" he stammered, standing up as well. "i thought we were—"

"i need to go," you cut him off, your voice trembling. "i… i can't do this right now, jake. i'm sorry."

you grabbed your bag and rushed to the door, your heart hammering in your chest. jake reached out, his fingers grazing your arm. "please, just talk to me," he pleaded, his voice breaking. "don't just leave like this."

you paused, your hand on the doorknob, torn between the urge to run and the need to explain. taking a deep breath, you turned to face him, your eyes filled with turmoil. "i… i need time to think," you said, your voice barely above a whisper. "this wasn't supposed to happen. i wasn't supposed to feel like this."

jake's shoulders slumped, and he ran a hand through his hair, his frustration evident. "feel like what?" he asked, his voice raw with emotion.

"like i care about you," you admitted, the words heavy with truth. "this was supposed to be fake, remember? just an act. but now… i don't know what's real anymore."

jake took a step closer, his gaze intense. "and that scares you?"

you nodded, tears welling up in your eyes. "yes. because if this is real, then everything changes. and i'm not ready for that."

he reached out, gently cupping your face in his hands. "we can figure this out together," he said softly, his thumb brushing away a tear that had escaped. "but you don't have to run. not from me."

the warmth of his touch, the sincerity in his eyes, it all made you want to believe him. but the fear of getting hurt, of losing control, was overwhelming. you stepped back, breaking the contact. "i just need some time," you whispered. "please, jake."

he let his hands fall to his sides, his expression one of resigned understanding. "okay," he said quietly. "take all the time you need. i'll be here."

you gave him a grateful, albeit shaky, smile before turning and walking out the door. the night air was cool against your flushed skin as you made your way down the street, your mind a chaotic swirl of emotions. the kiss had been a catalyst, forcing you to confront feelings you had buried deep down. and now, you needed to sort through them, figure out what was real and what was just the remnants of your fake relationship.

days slowly turned into a week, and you found yourself constantly replaying that night in your mind. every touch, every word, every emotion. it was maddening. you avoided jake on campus, not ready to face him or your own feelings. but everywhere you went, you saw reminders of him. the coffee shop where you had shared quiet mornings, the library where your plan had first taken shape, the park bench where you had laughed and talked like real friends. the line between pretense and reality had become so blurred that it was impossible to distinguish one from the other.

for jake, the transition back to his usual routine was almost seamless. on the surface, it was as if nothing had changed. he went to classes, attended practice, and hung out with his friends. yet, there was a persistent undercurrent of something new and unsettling — thoughts of you and the kiss you shared haunted him.

he couldn't get the kiss out of his head. the way your lips moved perfectly in sync with his, creating a rhythm that felt both natural and electrifying. the soft, delicate texture of your lips was like a whisper against his own, sending shivers down his spine. he remembered the warmth that radiated from you, a gentle heat that seeped into his skin and settled in his chest. the faint taste of your lip balm lingered on his tongue, a subtle hint of vanilla mixed with something uniquely you.

he couldn't forget the way his heart had raced as he felt your breath mingle with his, the soft exhale between kisses like a shared secret. every touch, every brush of your lips, had sent a thrill through him, igniting a spark that refused to die down even after you pulled away.

despite his attempts to focus on his usual activities, the memory of that kiss was a constant distraction, a nagging thought that refused to fade.

"whatcha thinking about?" jay asked, breaking jake out of his reverie. they were sitting in the campus coffee shop, the familiar scent of brewing coffee mingling with the chatter of students.

jake blinked, trying to act casual. "nothing much," he muttered, stirring his drink absentmindedly.

jay leaned back in his chair, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "come on, jake. we all know the real reason you agreed to this fake dating thing wasn't just to get your ex off your back."

sunghoon nodded, his smirk widening. "yeah, you've had a crush on her for ages. this was your chance to get closer to her."

jake sighed, running a hand through his hair. he had confided in jay and sunghoon about his feelings for you a long time ago, back when you two couldn't stand each other — which, admittedly, wasn't all that long ago, he thinks. being with his ex had complicated things, but the crush never went away. agreeing to the fake dating scheme had seemed like a golden opportunity, despite the initial tension.

"okay, fine," jake admitted, his voice low. "i did want to get closer to her. but now… everything's so messed up."

jay's expression softened. "what happened? you guys seemed to be getting along really well."

jake hesitated, then relented. "we kissed. i don't even remember who initiated it. but it felt real, and now she's avoiding me. i don't know what to do."

sunghoon's teasing demeanor faded, replaced by genuine concern. "have you tried talking to her?"

jake nodded. "i did, but she said she needed time to think. i get it, this whole thing is confusing, but i can't stop thinking about her."

jay leaned back in his chair, thinking. "maybe she just needs some space to sort through her feelings. this whole fake dating thing probably stirred up a lot for both of you."

sunghoon nodded in agreement. "yeah, just give her some time. in the meantime, don't overthink it. sometimes people just need a little distance to figure things out."

jake sighed again, feeling a bit more reassured by his friends' advice but still uncertain about the future. "i hope you're right. i don't want to lose her, even as just a friend."

the space jake had given you made you think he had forgotten about you, that the act was, in fact, just an act. a month had passed without speaking to each other, and it felt like an eternity. you couldn't help but wonder if everything you had felt was one-sided.

jake had been on your mind constantly, every moment replaying in your head like an unending loop. the way he laughed, the way he looked at you, the way his presence alone could make your heart race. yet, the silence between you both was deafening, and it made you doubt everything.

the days seemed to drag on, each one blending into the next. you threw yourself into your studies, hoping the distraction would help, but it was no use.

you sighed as you grabbed your suitcase, preparing to head home for summer break. the hallway of your dorm was nearly empty, the usual bustling energy replaced with an eerie stillness. as you struggled with the heavy suitcase, you heard a familiar voice behind you.

"need some help with that?"

turning around, you saw jake standing there, a tank top clinging to his toned frame. the sight of him took your breath away for a moment, his tan skin glistening slightly in the summer heat.

"jake," you said, a mixture of surprise and confusion in your voice. "what are you doing here?"

he stepped closer, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. "i was hoping to catch you before you left. can we talk?"

you nodded, still feeling a bit stunned by his sudden appearance. "sure. what’s up?"

jake ran a hand through his hair, looking a little uncertain. "my parents are in australia, i mean obviously they are, and well, i don't have enough money to buy myself a plane ticket. god, i should've planned better… anyway, i was thinking… maybe i could stay with you for a while? just until i figure something out. i know it's a lot to ask, and it's totally okay if it's not possible, i can find another solution, but i just thought—"

"jake, slow down," you interrupted gently, trying to suppress a smile at his nervous rambling. "it's okay."

he looked relieved but still a bit anxious. "i just… i really miss you, you know? this past month has been hell, and i keep thinking about that night, about everything, and i hate how we left things. i want to fix it, to talk, to see if we can… i don't know, figure things out. together."

your heart softened at his honesty, and seeing him here, hearing him say he missed you, was like a balm to your aching heart. "you can stay with me, jake. we'll figure things out together."

jake’s face lit up with relief and happiness. he took your suitcase from you, easily lifting it as if it weighed nothing. "thanks. you have no idea how much this means to me."

as you walked out of the dorm together, the summer sun beating down on you, you couldn't help but feel a sense of anticipation. this summer break, which you had dreaded just moments ago, now held the promise of something new and wonderful.

PERM TLㅤ ✦ㅤ @en-gelic @nishislcve @jakesprincess1 @ivsjake4evr @flwrstqr

[tasteracha]

sweet venom

pairing: hwang hyunjin x reader

warnings: afab!reader, possessive behavior, unprotected sex, smut - MINORS DNI.

synopsis: request from my baby @astraystayyh who asked for grinding and lipstick and i kind of didn’t follow much of either but they’re there!!!!! 1.8k.

you can hear hyunjin doing his live in the next room - he made you swear to not click into it, saying that he’d be much too nervous if he saw you there. you listened, you’d do anything for him if he asked, but you held back the fact that the walls were thin and it was like you were there anyways. he didn’t need to know that. 

you were usually fine with it. you were usually happy to hear him giggling along with his fans, ecstatic that he had so many people who loved him and wanted to spend time with him. it was just one of those things that came with being in a relationship with an idol that you just got used to. but right now, you were in an unusual mindset of wanting to be the only one that loved him, wanting to be the single person that he was spending time with. you didn’t want to share him, and while that might be selfish you couldn’t bring yourself to care. 

it took thirty minutes of you seething in bed to come up with your half-baked plan. you walk over to your spare closet, keeping your steps light as you dig through it for a small paper bag hidden in the corner. you’d been keeping it for a special occasion, something you could wear as a treat for hyunjin, but this seemed like a better opportunity. you loved catching him off guard, as rare of an occurrence as it is. 

you weave through the flimsy tissue paper in the bag and pull out a set of delicate lace, stark red against your skin. it was a beautiful lingerie set, something you had splurged on quite a bit, beautiful patterns of fabric complimented by thin bows and mesh paneling. you knew it would drive hyunjin crazy. 

you swipe on some matching red lipstick and a few coats of mascara before pulling on the fabric, shivering a bit at the cold air hitting your exposed body. you weren’t one to show off this much skin typically, but it was worth it for this. you push away your discomfort as you step into the hallway, feet feather-light on the hardwood until you reach the door.

you press your ear to it, hearing his voice as clear as if it was right in your ear. him giggling at someone’s comment, him making jokes that weren’t meant for you, him flirting with them like you weren’t in the same apartment as him. 

you push the door open abruptly and falter, your plan standing on shaky ground as you take him in. his hair is pushed back, a pair of metal rimmed glasses framing his face perfectly, and he’s spread out like a whore. he’s sprawled into the headboard of the bed, your bed, legs open and you see red. his head perks up like an animal, eyebrows raised in surprise. 

“oh,” you can see the blood rush to his face as he twitches a bit, eyes flickering back and forth between you and the camera. “um. something came up, i have to go. bye!”

he turns the live off, and you already know that he’s going to be trending on twitter in a matter of minutes, but you don’t care. twitter can talk about him all they want, but he’s living and breathing in front of you and suddenly there’s too much space between you to bear. 

“you think you can show off like this for other people?” you crawl onto the bed and stop in front of him, kneeling between his legs, setting your hands on his upper thighs. “you think you’re allowed to show them my property? you’re mine-“

he cuts you off with a huff, pulling you into him by the waist, leaving you sprawled into his lap. your hands brace onto his chest to keep yourself from crashing into him, and you can feel his heart beating under them, light and fragile like a hummingbird’s wings. 

“you talk too much, did you know that?” he teases, leaning back to take in your body, eyes roaming up and down. it’s a testament to how much you trust him that you don’t want to hide from his gaze, that you preen under his attention instead. 

“hmm,” you swing your legs over his, fully straddling him. “i don’t think that i talk enough, actually.”

you grind down on him, satisfaction thrumming through you when his mouth drops open in a surprised moan, and you take the chance to kiss him. his lips immediately surrender to yours, letting you lead him as you rake your nails down his chest, the thin material of his t-shirt doing nothing to stop the sensation. his hands, still on your hips, pull you into him again, making small circles that are in tune with the way his heart is threatening to beat out of his chest. 

you trail your lips down his neck, leaving red lipstick stains in your path downwards. you bring your teeth into the equation, complimenting every rose-shaped pucker with a sharp thorny bite. the whines he lets out are sweeter than any melody that has ever hit your ears - you’d never let anyone tell you that you weren’t a musician when you could play his body this well. 

“not-,” he cuts off with a groan when you bear down into his lap, kissing his collarbone to soothe him. “not where people can see, love.”

“i’ll do whatever i want,” you growl, meeting eyes with him as you suck a mark right under his jaw. “you don’t get to tell me what to do.” 

it’s a little ridiculous that a live has gotten you this worked up, but with the way his breath is picking up and his chest is heaving under you, you’re pretty sure he’s right there with you. you lean back to appreciate your artwork, pausing your hips and grinning at the way your lipstick stains have dotted his neck and smeared around his lips. they’re physical marks of your claim on him.  

“okay, sorry,” he whines, voice thin. “i won’t do it again, i was close, why did you stop -”

you shush him with another kiss, cradling his face in your hands. you pluck his glasses off his face, throwing them at the foot of the bed without care - it’s not like he needs them to see, anyways. they were getting in the way. 

“you’re close already? baby, if you’re going to come today, it’ll be inside me or not at all,” you murmur against his lips, pressing a few pecks there before pulling back again. he shudders, a fully body thing that sends your own body into a delightful hum. you’ll never get used to the effect that you have on him, you’ll never understand how it was you that he picked. 

you help him pull down his sweatpants and boxers, holding back a smirk at how hard he is. you barely have time to push your panties aside before he’s pulling you back into him again, a hard grip on your hips for the countless time; you hope he leaves hand-shaped bruises on you that last for days. 

you raise up and ease him into you, the wetness that’s been building up since you walked in making the slide almost too easy. when he bottoms out you pause for a moment, settling in his lap and letting yourself get used to the feeling of him inside you. he fills you up so perfectly, nestled within you like he was carved specially just for you. the streak of possession comes back full force, something nasty and dark curling up in you at the thought of no one else getting to experience this ever. you were going to keep him forever, he is yours. 

he swipes his thumb across your lips, smearing the lipstick everywhere before he pushes it into your mouth. you can taste the sticky sweetness of the makeup as you swirl your tongue around him, and his eyes are so dark on you that you almost can’t see his irises anymore.

you lift up and drop back down, once, twice, over and over god it feels so damn good. the angle you’re at makes him drive into that spot inside you that burns in pleasure, and soon enough your knees give out, unable to keep yourself upright. 

he takes it as permission to flip you over onto your back, the weightlessness making your stomach flip before your back hits the mattress. he cradles the back of your head in his hand, keeping it from hitting the headboard as he looms over you, lining himself back up and pushing back inside you in one go. 

his hair falls into his face, swinging along with his body as he rocks into you. the headboard squeaks but it’s nothing compared to the symphony your combined breaths create. 

your hands reach up to cup his neck, thumbs sliding against the droplets of sweat rolling down his temples. you pull him in for another kiss, nastier than the others, full of gnashing teeth and dirty licks into each other’s mouths until you can’t tell where you end and he begins. his hand trails down your side, fingers pressing into your ribcage before going further down, down, down. 

he parts your folds with his fingers, expert motions locating your clit easily. he rubs small circles into it, in time with his quickening thrusts, and you have to screw your eyes closed because it’s too much. 

you feel your orgasm approaching faster than you thought it would, something about his near feral motions hitting parts of you that you hadn’t discovered yet. your entire body tightens with it, wave after wave of what seems like never ending pleasure wracking your body, going from your core all the way to your toes and the tols of your fingers. 

he comes inside you with a growl, burying his head in your neck as you milk him through your own aftershocks. you can feel his heavy breaths on your skin, his entire body enveloping yours as you float through the haze he’s put you in. 

you come back to yourself when he pulls out, letting out a pitiful whine at the loss of contact. he runs a hand through your hair, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead before dashing away, coming back just as quickly with a water bottle and a warm washcloth to clean you up with. 

he goes to unhook your bra, knowing that you hate sleeping in them, but you pause his hand with a weak grip. 

“you like it?” you ask, asking for the verbal validation that he did even though you know. 

“do i like it?” he asks, incredulous, raising a brow at you. “you look divine. i’m going to paint you in this one day.”

“good,” you sigh in content, letting him undress you fully. he makes quick work of his own clothes, sticky with sweat, and he goes to retrieve his phone. 

“my love?” he calls out, timid, his eyes wide as he looks down at the screen. “would you kill me if i told you i never turned off the live?”

“what?” you hiss, fully awake now. “please tell me you’re joking.”

“i am,” he giggles, showing you the black screen he was looking at. “that was revenge for interrupting my live, you jealous baby.”

“i’ll show you revenge, hwang hyunjin!”

[banj0possum]

All You Need

Yandere! Bodyguard x Gn Reader

CW: obsessive behavior, minor stalking

i changed his name, his old name was doo doo, it was but a trick of the light

IM CHANGING HIS NAME AGAI-

♠️ Never before would you have ever considered hiring a bodyguard, you could defend yourself on your own just fine, but with all your rival manufacturers trying to get you out of the competition with assassinations and attempted kidnappings, you had no choice.

♠️ Feelings were a very rare thing for Baron, and he was fine with it, after all, emotions weren't a very helpful thing to have when your job is to kill people. There was no room for soft, sappy things like that when you lived in his side of the city.

♠️ But his cold and empty demeanor was somehow broken through the moment he saw you.

♠️ The smile you had on your face pierced his heart like cupid's arrow, it was like love at first sight for him.

♠️ He was just getting some rest after a particularly stressful job at a nearby bar when he heard the sweetest laughter from across the room.

♠️ There you were, the most beautiful person he's ever laid eyes upon. You were sitting with some other people, talking and drinking together like all the other patrons, but you stood out to him like a precious gem amongst stone.

♠️ It seemed as if the world slowed down when your eyes briefly met his.

♠️ He would now frequent that bar, learning what you like to order, when you get there and who you'd be with.

♠️ He's never talked to you, or even interacted with you in any way, but the feelings he had for you couldn't be denied. You're just too adorable!!

♠️ Through his connections, he found out you were a big name in weapons design. Unique and beautifully deadly instruments of death were created by your hands. Is it weird he finds that hot?

♠️ He'd start off making anonymous orders for weapons to you, it was normal to get one that was unnamed, so you thought nothing of it.

♠️ When he got his order, an intricately designed dagger, he couldn't bring himself to use it on anyone. This is a gift from his kind and talented darling! He couldn't just stab it into someone's chest like any other knife!

♠️ Yes, he has a little shrine of you.

♠️ When he heard you were hiring for a bodyguard, he was ecstatic! Finally, he can be with you for real! He had to stop himself from giggling like a little girl in front of his colleagues.

♠️ He applied for the job and immediately was given instructions to your address, he read it over and over again until it was engraved into his mind.

♠️ "Tomorrow, 5pm. 93 Lebberside Ave. Door with the hummingbird symbol on it in the alley. Do not be late."

♠️ When he arrived at the location, his heart was pounding under his cold expression. He knocked on the door and heard a muffled crash from inside with a small "Shit!" before the sound of multiple clicks of locks followed.

♠️ You pulled the door open and looked up at the man with dark eyes.

♠️ "Are you the applicant?"

♠️ "Y-yes.." God he stuttered, he hoped you couldn't see his flushed face.

♠️ "Good, come in." You pulled him in and swiftly locked the door again.

♠️ He looks around and it looked like a normal home, albeit a little cluttered. Boxes of files and paper were almost everywhere with takeout boxes and noodle cups on every surface of the house. Looks like you've been piled with work for a long time, poor thing, you really need him to take care of you don't you?

♠️ He sits down on the couch across from the little bean bag you were sitting on while reading a file you grabbed from the coffee table, god you're adorable..

♠️ "So you're..?"

♠️ "Baron..Baron Valencia.."

♠️ "Baron..."

♠️ Oh god say his name again please plea-

♠️ "Hm..your file's pretty good..and you don't have any recent dealings with my competitors? Interesting, looks like you have a good eye for quality weaponry huh?" You smile at his file before looking at him with fox eyes. The things he'd let you do to him...

♠️ "I just took a liking to your model's, they're more convenient and useful than others.." He says with a straight face.

♠️ You chuckle and ask him a few more questions before eventually moving on to small talk, he relished in the time you two spent together laughing at past experiences and jokes, it was like he's known you forever, it took every muscle in his body just to stop himself from smiling too much.

♠️ Eventually, you got up and patted his lap, putting down the file. "Well, Mr. Valencia, you're hired!" You say with a smile, the same smile that melted his heart the first time he saw you.

♠️ "Really?! I-I mean- thank you..Boss.."

♠️ He regains his calm composure after letting his voice go a little too high for his liking, any embarrassment he would've had in that situation was replaced with a warm, tingly feeling as you placed a hand on his shoulder, giggling.

♠️ After that, he'd watch you like a hawk, always being by your side ready to protect you, even if you’re just at home. You never know when someone will try to hurt you!

♠️ He'd be looming over you, giving any poor soul trying to talk to you a death stare until you introduced them as friends of yours, he's a giant guard dog basically.

♠️ His stoic expression would persist even when you make small talk with him all the time so casually. It was like he wasn't even your bodyguard sometimes, just a friend you were hanging out with.

♠️ He wasn't all intimidating and cold, he was also very concerned for your health...all the time, and can you blame him? You've been living off of takeout and instant noodles for months!

♠️ "Boss, I think you should eat a proper dinner and not fastfood again, I'll cook for you."

♠️ "Your work can wait, Boss. I'm sure your client can wait another day, please, you look tired."

♠️ It's all part of being your bodyguard! He has to keep you safe and healthy! He'd be happy to move in so he can protect you 24/7 if you'd let him.

♠️ He'd offer to help you clean your living space a little too, since you're so busy and all with work, he might as well make life easier for you. You said yes to get him to stop pestering you about it and when you came back to the living room, all the clutter and empty food containers were gone..as well as a few of your clothes..I guess he put them away as well, how nice of him.

♠️ If you confront him about this, he'd deny it all flushed in between stutters.

♠️ "Well Baron, it sounds to me like you want to be my househusband more than a bodyguard with all your offers for looking after me and such."

♠️ "Wh- Me? N-no! I'd never! I-I mean unless you'd want that..Not that I'm saying I want to! But well uhm- I-if you uh..uhm..I'll leave you alone to work..."

♠️ On days off a.k.a. days you forced him to take a break from taking care of you to get a bit of breathing space for yourself, he'd stalk your social medias or flat out stalk you. A true bodyguard never stops protecting their boss! He just wants to watch over you!

♠️ On the rare occasions that you're too deep in work and not getting a blink of sleep, he'd use his strong arms to pull you into bed and force you to rest. It wasn't long before he heard you softly snoring in his arms, you were exhausted from long days of working and delivering orders and evading taxes and such, no wonder you went out like a light.

♠️ He looked down at you as he sighed lovingly, placing a kiss on your head, whispering a soft "Goodnight, cariño.." Before drifting off to sleep himself.

♠️ "..Goodnight Baron.."

♠️ "B-Boss! Y-you heard that?!"

[steddieas-shegoes]

assistant to the dm, steve harrington

for @steddielovemonth prompt 'secretly studying nerd shit' rated t | 1,361 words | cw: mild language | tags: friends to lovers, getting together, d&d references (could be inaccurate since i don't actually play), banter that's also flirting

🐉🐉🐉🐉🐉🐉🐉🐉🐉🐉🐉🐉

"I just don't understand why you needed to borrow my character sheets. You don't even know what most of this means," Dustin said as he handed over the papers.

"I just need to see something," Steve replied, taking the papers and adding it to his mess of a kitchen table. Other character sheets were strewn all over, most filled out, but some empty. A couple of books were open on random pages, recognizable images of weapons and monsters visible to anyone who walked by.

"Why does it look like you're studying for a college degree in D&D?" Dustin asked.

Steve looked up at him, eyes blank, mouth in a straight line. "Because I finally got accepted to Indiana State. Go away."

"Fine! I want those sheets back though!" Dustin said as he left Steve to his studying.

Hours must have passed, the light outside turning to dusk before Steve thought to take a break. His head hurt, his vision was blurry, and he didn't feel any closer to understanding a god damn thing.

He thunked his head against the table, letting out pained groan as his head throbbed.

"Are you looking for something or have you decided to finally play with us?" Eddie's voice said directly behind him, making him nearly fall out of his seat. "Shit, sorry. Thought you heard me come in."

Eddie's hands were on Steve's arms, squeezing, centering.

Like he knew exactly what he needed to lose the slight hint of remaining panic left in his chest.

"I was just trying to figure out if there actual dragons in this game or if that was also made up," Steve said, sitting back and putting distance between them. He couldn't breathe when Eddie was touching him, which was often. He was starting to worry about oxygen deprivation to his brain. "Disappointed to find out the dungeons part seems like it's up to the DM."

"The whole thing is pretty made up, Stevie. That's the point," Eddie smirked, but it fell away when Steve turned back to the messy table. "Are you, like, wanting to play?"

And this is why he wanted to keep it a secret. Maybe he shouldn't have had everything spread out in the open like this, but he'd assumed he was safe in his own home. With the door locked. And with Eddie supposedly playing the Hideout tonight.

He looked back at Eddie. "Why are you here?"

"Dustin said something about you not answering the phone after he left hours ago and you seemed pissed off or something," Eddie shrugged. "Just wanted to check on you."

"The phone? It didn't ring." Steve didn't think so anyway. He had admittedly tuned his surroundings out entirely once Dustin was gone. "But it's Tuesday."

"Uh huh. It is Tuesday. How long have you been sitting at this table?"

"Ha. Funny." Steve rolled his eyes. "You play the Hideout Tuesdays. Tuesdays are for Corroded Coffin, Wednesdays are for dinner with Wayne, and Thursdays are Hellfire."

Eddie blinked at him. "Yes, usually that's true. But, wait. Sorry. You have my schedule memorized?"

"I mean, some of it, yeah. The parts where I know you won't be nearby or easily reached."

Steve knew it was ridiculous, but how the hell could he make sure he was safe if he didn't even know what Eddie was doing?

Eddie looked like he wanted to say something else about it, but must have changed his mind. He pulled out the chair next to Steve, turned it towards him, and sat down.

"So you've been studying this stuff for..." Eddie leaned in, eyebrows raised in silent question.

"I dunno. A few weeks. I didn't have most of the sheets until a couple days ago though," Steve gestured towards the papers spread out. "I still don't really get it."

"You've been studying for weeks? Stevie, why didn't you just ask me or any of the kids to help explain it?" Eddie almost sounded hurt. "I've been playing for half my life! And I've been a DM for half of that!"

Truthfully, Steve was trying to learn so he could have conversations with Eddie about the stuff he liked. That was basically lesson number one on how to get someone to like you, and Steve had already tried the music thing and failed.

He just wasn't that into the echo of loud guitars and angry drums.

He couldn't exactly ask Eddie to teach him everything and then turn around and try to use what he taught him to flirt with him. That was lame and embarrassing.

"Steve?" Eddie had his hand on Steve's leg, leaning in further towards Steve. He must've been trying to get Steve's attention while he was lost in thought. "I'm kidding. I mean, I wish you'd said something sooner, but if this is how you get into it, I'm not gonna stop you."

"I just wanted to surprise you."

Steve could hear how pitiful that sounded, could hear the whine in his voice that he wasn't able to pull his plan off. As if Eddie would even care! Eddie was the most easygoing, laidback, chaotic person he'd ever met. He would just be happy to have someone else in his little club.

"Surprise me? For what?"

He was also incredibly slow when it came to feelings.

"Because I want to spend more time with you! Because I like you! Because I want you to like me!" Steve tried not to sound frustrated, but his headache was turning into a real problem, and he was tired, and sick of hiding things. Robin told him to just be honest, so he was. "I wanted to surprise you the next time Hellfire was here and have all this knowledge, but it's hard! I don't even know how you keep up with most of this, let alone all the characters? There's like...at least 800 options for how to use weapons and spells. I can't even remember half the races or classes or whatever. I don't even know if those are the same thing. And I keep getting distracted thinking about how you look when you stand at the end of the table and do one of those stupid accents."

"Are they stupid if they're this distracting?" Eddie was smirking, suddenly more confident than Steve had maybe ever seen him.

"They are stupid. That's why it's distracting. And I'm stupid for letting it get to me!" Steve leaned forward, put his head on Eddie's shoulder. The angle wasn't the best, but he didn't care. "You get to me so bad, Munson."

"You're kinda easy to get to, Harrington." Eddie's lips briefly pressed against the side of Steve's head. "Been waiting for you to catch up."

"What do you mean?" Steve pulled away. "I've been trying to get you to realize for months!"

"You came to one show at the Hideout. I think Robin's been to more shows and she's a lesbian."

"She told you?!"

"Steve, she spilled every secret she's ever had when she kept me company in the hospital. I think I know things you don't even know."

Steve let his head fall down against Eddie's shoulder again. "I should've known you were teaming up."

"I wouldn't call it that. She just wanted to look out for us," Eddie's hand cupped the back of Steve's head. "So what did you learn?"

"Probably nothing useful."

"Well, it's easier to be an active learner. I could use an assistant on Thursday if you want some hands on experience," Eddie's fingers scratched at Steve's scalp, melting his brain and making him feel like he was completely weightless. "If you just wanna watch, that can be arranged too."

"You don't let people watch," Steve mumbled against his shoulder, his weight sagging against Eddie.

"I think I can bend my own rule for my boyfriend, right?" Steve could feel Eddie's heartbeat quickening beneath his ear.

His face felt warm as he realized what Eddie was implying. "Only if your boyfriend can sit next to you."

"I think that can be arranged."

"Oh, and I'd like to trap Dustin's character."

Eddie snorted, kissed Steve's head again. "That can be arranged, too."

[wh1msic4lwasab1]

𝐎𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐞𝐝 ✮⋆˙

synopsis: Your secretary Alhaitham and you have a tension full relationship, but he finally snaps after some miscommunication- or lack thereof!

tags: angst for like 1 second, explicit, cunnalingus, office setting, penetration, vulgar

wrd cnt: 1.9k

a/n: repost/rewrite from first acc!

As the CEO of a thriving business, you were known for your sharp wit and unmatched determination. Alhaitham, your steadfast secretary, had always admired you from a distance, his heart secretly harboring a deep affection for you. The dynamic between you two was a blend of professionalism and underlying emotion, a sentiment you both tried your best to hide. It was more than him getting you coffee each morning, more than the soft shoulder massages he’d give you at the end of the day, more than the glances you’d exchange at each meeting.

One evening, you find yourself mindless scrolling down a dating site. Half of you bored, half a little curious. You leave your computer on and exit your office on a lunch break.

Unfortunately for you...your secretary came in to deliver your papers and set them on your desk, glancing at the screen.

You hear the door open to the break room, Alhaitham entering.

"Ms. Y/n, would you like me to schedule anything for you this evening? Or are you doing something personal..." He asks, catching you off guard as it's not usual for him to pry like this.

"No it's fine, I do have something later tonight. Thank you though!" You reply. Watching Alhaithams eyes dim.

The night of the blind date arrived, you got ready with a mix of excitement and apprehension. You chose a stunning outfit and hoped the evening would be a pleasant distraction from all your stressors at work. However, as the night progressed, you realized your heart wasn't in it.

You find yourself subconsciously comparing your date to Alhaitham, his genuine care, and the way he always seemed to know what you always needed. He's always there, fixing things up, making your life so easy and balanced. He knew how to make you happy.

During a lull in the conversation, your date asked if everything was okay. You hesitated before admitting that your mind was elsewhere.

Unbeknownst to you, Alhaitham had decided to swing by the same restaurant after his work hours. It was one of his favorites and one he made you familiar with too, hence why you even decided to pick it for your date.

He had been feeling restless all evening, and a strange intuition led him there. And of course he saw you and your date, talking and spending an evening dinner together.

His heart raced, and he couldn't ignore the surge of emotion. He sat at the other end of the room for about 10 minutes; before getting up and leaving.

You stood up, your body reacting without your minds permission. You followed after him for 20 minutes. Your poor date left in confusion, but it didn't matter.

After not much longer you find Alhaitham back at the office.

You park your car adjacent to his and enter the building, feeling your knees shake as you felt like you did something wrong. You two had always had a sort of...tension. Unspoken, undelved, and more complicated than you could explain.

You're going up the elevator, you know exactly where he could be. Your intuition speaks true.

"Alhaitham!...there you are." You say in a sigh, catching him in your office, organizing the filing cabinet as his light green eyes cut through the air separating you two in the room.

You walk closer to him, the night sky illuminated by the lights of the city, the moon shining through the big glass walls of your corner office.

"Is something the matter? There's no work left on your agenda for tomorrow....l checked." He remarks, pretending like nothing had happened.

"Meaning you have none either...why are you here Alhaitham? You just- left? You didn't even say Hi..." You mention.

His head quickly turns as if you’ve offended him.

"You...wanted me to come talk to you while you were on a date with your partner?"

"My partner? I just met that guy tonight...why would that be a problem anyways?" You say.

Alhaithams scoffs, visibly trying to articulate himself in the professional manner he’s tried so hard to maintain with you.

"It's just-it's not appropriate, is all, we have a professional relationship, right?"

"Well, I mean I consider you a friend, you don't think the same?"

Alhaitham slams the filing cabinet shut, truthfully startling you.

"Your friend? I am your secretary. I plan your meetings, I make your spreadsheets, I bring you coffee, I make sure you finish your agenda, and I take care of all your needs."

"Then why are you acting like this...?" You say in a lighthearted tone, laughing smally. "What do you not approve of my date or something?" You laugh as you get closer to him, a little too close to call friendly.

You let that comment slip out of your mouth, and quickly it's replaced with Alhaithams tongue.

Pinning you to the wall you once leaned on as you spoke, now moaning into his mouth.

He pulls away, his lips touching you as he speaks. "I take care of you. I should be the one you spend your evening with. Right here. In this officer." He mutters, before you pull him back into the kiss.

You can't help but melt right into him, his grip now released from wrists as your hands wrap around his head, his hands holding your waist and the side of your face.

"I didn't know you felt that way...should have said something sooner."

"Well I'm saying it now. You're my boss. Mine to take care of. Mine."

The kiss doesn't last long before things get heated, your secretary now kissing down your neck...unbuttoning your top as his lips trial down your body. He throws your clothes nicely on top the chair nearby, as he works his way down your waist, leaving a trial of evidence down your body.

His jade green eyes glisten in the moonlight, as he drags your panties down with his teeth.

"You can't know how long l've wanted to do this... y/n. How long l've admired you, watched you, I serve you completely." He says, as you feel his warm breathe around out cunt.

"Alhaitham... what are y-" You're cut off, feeling Alhaithams mouth split your lips open, his tongue grazing up your folds and circling your clit. You try to stay standing, holding yourself up with a hand on the cabinet, your other on top of his head. He looks up at you frequently, as he kneels below of you: licking your hole and pumping his fingers inside it. He sucks on every part of your cunt, tasting every inch like his salary depends on it.

The feeling of his hands running up your thighs, and his mouth sucking on your swollen clit, push you over the edge in no time. The vibrations of Alhaithams moans send themselves into your cunt, forcing you to cum; all, over, his face.

You writher and squirm while your knees shake.

Feeling his large tongue lick every drop of cum that spills out of you. Wiping the corners of his mouth with his fingers and sucking it off, savoring you.

He comes back up and kisses you, making you taste yourself.

You kiss him deeply, wanting his tongue. You're both pulling at each other, pushing your bodies closer as you moan into each others mouths against the wall.

"Alhaitham...give me more." You say softly into his ear, as your hands rub his erecting through this pants. Your hand reacted faster than your mind, you couldn't believe this is what you and your secretary were doing right now, but you don't want to stop now.

"Y/n...let me, this is about you." He says, quickly lifting you up with his hands under your thighs, turning you around and dropping you softy on the wooden desk behind you two. Your desk.

He slowly undressed you, leaving you bare infront of him. You lift up your leg and prop it on the corner of the desk, you make him watch as you spread open your lips with two fingers, playing with your pussy while he undressed. "This is what you wanted huh? What a naught secretary."

His face got even more red, before he kissed you again. "You're what I want." He quickly says, before his mouth is latched onto your hard nipple, as the other gets rubbed and pinched by his hand.

"Keep playing with yourself, it's so fucking hot." He snared, biting and sucking your chest, softy enough to make it painless but feel so fucking good.

As Alhaitham works on your tits, his cock springs out of his last piece of clothing.

Leaving so much saliva and hickies on and around your puffy nipples, you're eyes meet with his cock. A slightly dark tan, with the prettiest shaft and a throbbing red tip; just waiting to fuck you.

"Please boss...tell me you'll have me. Let me take care of you."

"Then do it, it's your job, right?" You smirk, before you softy hiss at how good his cock felt gliding all over your folds, he slapped his tip on your clit and rubbed them together.

"God I can't wait..." He says, he grabs onto your hips, as you sit on the desk.

You look down at his cock while it starts to disappear into your sopping wet pussy. Each inch making you gasp and squirm.

"Fuck...Alhaitham, it's not going to all fit..." You hear him grunt, before slamming it all into you. "It has to...it all has to fit y/n, I need you to feel it." He says, as your mouth can't keep in any of the sounds it's making.

His thrusts are slow and calculated, his thumb rubs your sore, engorged clit, while his cock is feeling your walls.

You can't help but fall back as his thrusts get more desperate, shaking you along with the table; which you now lay on, your tits bouncing up and down with it.

"Tell me y/n, will you remember me every time you sit here? Will you remember my cock fucking your tight little hole, like this?" He says harshly, needing you to need him.

You can't even reply, as the only thing coming out of your mouth is his name as you clench around his thick cock.

His body drops down towards you, his arms holding himself up which now lay on both sides of your face, feeling his hair on your forehead.

He's grunting and moaning right into your hear, turning you on even more while his hard cock doesn't stop rutting into you.

"Y/n...fuck, please forgive me...I can't stop boss."

You continue to gasp at the feeling of his cock even more close to you now, as his lips find your neck once again and create more areas for you to hide the next morning.

"Y-Y/n... i'm so fucking close...l don't think I can-"

Alhaithams words find no finish, but he does; you can feel warm ropes of thick cum coat your walls.

You've already came on his cock so many times, but you finish again from the feeling of his release inside you. His breathe is heavy on your neck, his knees buck a few times while his cock still stuffs you, cum oozing out onto the table and the floor all the while.

The night ends with him licking all the cum off you, gently and so lovingly. Dressing you, kissing you softly as he fixes up your desk. Telling you how he's always yours, always there, always the one who will take care of you. Only him.

whimsic4alwasab1 ™ - do not copy, translate, modify, or claim any of my work as your own.

[whore-ibly-hot]

Yan!Soldier/General x Fem!Reader

'His little bride.'

18+ Minors DNI

Warnings: Smut, power dynamics, mentions of sa, p-in-v sex, mentions of war and military, implied violence, threats, possible dub-con as reader does not know the full story behind our yan's goals, female and male genitalia, female reader, pet names.

(AN: Not me coming back from the grave to drop a horny fic and this disappear again. Gonna go eat some pumpkin roll.)

Part 2 here

The sound of papers shuffling and a heavy sigh pierces the usual quiet of General Fritz's office, which is only occasionally broken by you dusting or rearranging one of the many books on the various shelves that lined the room. It's been 3 weeks since the invasion of your small town of Cyril, and the few civilian homes not destroyed in the invasion have been turned into functioning barracks and homesteads for the troops that now occupy your town. While not ideal, the army Fritz serves aligns with the beliefs of your villages people much more than the opposition, and while they are still invaders, many believe them to be the lesser of two evils. You remain as quiet as you can as Fritz attends to his work with a furrowed brow.

General Fritz, while known for his excellence in military strategics and his translation skills, seems to be struggling with the morning's crossword puzzle. A man of 42, he has served in his countries army since he was just 15, leaving his family's small farm and quickly rising through the ranks. He's a scarred man, with many gashes, stubble, and hair that when not in public is rather unkempt. Despite the things he's seen, a kindness remains in his bespectacled eyes. He gives up on the crossword puzzle, allowing the paper to fall to his desk with a 'plop!'. You glance over at him, and approach.

"Sir, is there anything you need, you seem a bit, well, stressed." You say, trying not to impose but express concern. When the troops arrived, many men were recruited, and many girls had to seek jobs. Some had to turn to unsavory means to get by, but you were lucky, you supposed. You were scouted out to serve as a guide and servant for the general, to both give information and serve his needs. While the thought of serving a strange man, one much older than you at that had frightened you, he was nothing like the other soldiers you had seen. He was polite, careful not to scare you off, provided you with good quarters, and never laid hands on you. All in all, the situation would have been perfect, had you not missed your family's bakery from which you were taken. For reasons you didn't fully understand, he never wanted you to travel far beyond his estate and into town.

He sighs. "I am fine, my dear girl. Just dealing with some disputes at the border of the county. Nothing you should concern yourself with." He says. He looks up at you, his glasses reflecting the light of his desk lamp. "Would you mind drawing me a bath, my dear? It has been... quite the day, and I think I need some time to relax." You quickly nod, and scurry off to the master bedroom, entering the attached bathroom and beginning to fill the tub with hot water. After some time, Fritz enters, looking as though he is fighting the urge to ask a question. "I... I hate to ask this of you, and say no if at any point in my asking you are uncomfortable or find me uncouth, but-" He hesitates. "I am very tired, and am currently dealing with some rather serious pain in my legs. Past wounds, you know. Would you be offended if I asked for your assistance in bathing?" You blush a little, but a part of you knows he won't try anything. You have noticed he seems to be limping a little more than usual, his mobility decreasing. Plus, you can tell he's only asking because he must, as the look of utter shame on his face suggests this is the last thing he wished to ask of you. "Of course, sir." His breath hitches, but he nods. As he begins to remove his more civilian garb, as he did not wear his uniform on this day, you try to avert your gaze. Still, you catch a glimpse of his pronounced muscles, littered with the occasional scar or blemish. You swallow heavily.

He slides down into the tub, his tensed muscles visibly relaxing as he lets out a groan. "Hmm..." He glances at you. "It's okay to look now, my dear. Sorry to have upset you." You shake your head, as if to assure him that you aren't bothered. He looks at you softly as you go to grab a sponge, a small part of him disappointed that you won't be using your bare hands to lather soap onto him. He shakes this thought off quickly. 'Shame on you!' He scolds himself 'Thinking such thoughts about your sweet servant girl. God, I'm acting like a recruit visiting his first whorehouse'. He is disappointed in himself, but tries to rationalize it by being innocent. Perhaps he just wanted to feel your hands on him, for comfort, for something different. One of the things he likes most about you is your hands. He noticed them when you first were sent to his mansion, much more timid then. You shook his hand, and his large, calloused and veiny hands, rough from years of labor and fighting, practically trembled at the feeling of your soft ones. As he grew to know you better, he would watch as you worked, your delicate hands dusting a vase or folding a sheet. He quickly decided any hard labor around his home be delegated to cadets and privates, when they would make the occasional visit, and sometimes as a disciplinary action. He wanted to keep your hands like you, soft and warm.

"Sir?" Your voice snaps him out of his thoughts. "Uh- Yes?" He stammers, readjusting his glasses (which oddly enough he always kept on for bath time.). "I was wondering... if I may take a bath sometime soon?" You ask timidly, causing him to frown. "Have you not been able to take one?" He asks. He doesn't remember ever giving such a command, and he would never deny your basic needs. "Well, one of the privates told me that the recruits shower schedule is twice a week, and that I should probably adhere to that at your house." You explain. Fritz grimaces. Of course some recruit would find it funny to torment the General's beloved servant. The soldiers where allowed two showers a week, but you were no soldier. You were a servant. His Servant. His.

"No, my dear, you may bathe whenever you see fit, that rule only applies to my soldiers of low rank. I imagine that young recruit may have been trying to have a laugh at your expense." He huffs. "Please, if you ever see him at the estate again, alert me to him, alright?" You nod, a little put off. You've never seen Fritz truly mad at one of his soldiers, he doesn't even get grumpy often, but now... he's scowling, as if that cadet had come right up to him, spit on his boots, and insulted his mother.

His eyes suddenly flash with a different emotion, as a thought crosses his mind. He bites his lips, trying to keep away the thought, but it's too tempting. "Perhaps..." His hand grips the porcelain edge of the tub. "Perhaps it would be easier for you to bathe me properly, if you were closer." He mumbles, avoiding eye contact. You tilt your head. "What do you mean, sir?" You ask naively. "Well, I just think, you could get a better position to clean me if you were to join me, i-in this bath, I mean." You blush wildly, and he begins to stammer, coming up with reasons it's a good idea. "For one, it would help you to apply the pain balm to my leg, and-" He's out of breath. "And taking a bath now, together, would ensure you are free later if I should need you." He risks a glance up at your face, feeling his turn red to match your own. You swallow. "I... I suppose that would be okay, sir." You mumble. You can't imagine he would hurt you, or try to take advantage of you. If that were the case, you imagine he would have had his way with you already. Besides, you can't deny how you failed to avoid looking at him when his disrobed before his bath. "Just, look away while I undress, please." You say, beginning to undo the corset of your servants attire. "Of course, anything to protect a ladies modesty." He says, quickly using his free hand to shield his eyes.

You slip into the bath water, and he looks up as he hears the water splash upon your entrance. You both remain silent, and you bathe him gently. He holds back sighs of pleasure, as you have forgone the sponge, and now use your bare hands as he had dreamed of moments ago. "Sir?" you break the silence. He lets out a "Hmm?" In response, eyes still closed in satisfaction. "May I ask, why do you never let me go into town? I wish to see my family, and the bakery." You ask. He seems to tense a little, the veins in his arm more prominent. "Because I simply don't have the time to venture there with you right now." He explains. "Yes, but I grew up there! I'm fine to go by my own." You say, a little annoyed he seems to think you're some helpless maid. He lets out a long exhale, before sitting up a little. Even like this in the bath, he towers over you. "It's not you I'm worried about, little one. I'm sure in town, before me and my men arrived, you could hold your own. But you couldn't against my soldiers, and-" He hesitates to tell you this, a part of him not wanting to scare you. "I don't trust half of them around a sweet thing like you." He sighs. You furrow your brows, your face upset. "You mean, like?" You can't bring yourself to say it. He nods. "I prevent it in every way I can, for all women. I do not allow it, but I cannot be everywhere, and the leaders above me do not permit me to dismiss a single man for a transgression like that. We need all the men you can get for the war." He makes a bold move, to cup your cheek. "But, rest assured, I won't let a single one of them lay hands on you. I just fear something could happen outside of my estate, that I could not control." You gulp at the notion, and nod. He sees the sorrow on your face, and strokes your cheek once more. "I will try to take a small holiday, a day or two perhaps, and I will take you to see them, alright?" He feels his heart speed up when he sees the light return to your eyes.

"Oh! Thank you, sir!" You look as if you could cry. He smiles and nods. "I, I must confess, I hope to go sooner rather than alter, I had wished to speak to your father." He says. "About what?" You feel a little fear knaw at you, and you gasp. "Wait, sir, no! He's much to old to fight, and-" Fritz cuts you off with both hands on your shoulder. "No, my dear, no. I'm not going to draft your poor father, do not worry. I would not want to do anything that would worry you so much." He coos, then avoids eye contact again. "I had wished to speak to him. The last time we spoke, we made a deal that you were to work for me as a servant girl, but..." You nod for him to continue. "I have found that house chores and labor do not suit you." You frown at his words. Had you not been doing a good enough job. "I'm sorry, sir, if I've not been performing well, please don't fire me. My family needs the money." He seems shocked once again, and laughs awkwardly. "God, I do seem to be bad at saying what I mean, don't I?" He shakes his head. "I mean that I think such things are below you. I... I should like to take you as my bride, if you and he should permit it." Your eyes widen. You hadn't expected that. What would he have you do as his bride? He senses your nervousness, and continues. "I assure you, it can have as much or as little intimacy as you wish. You needn't even act as a proper wife to me, I just-" He seems to be struggling to explain. "I just want you to be safe, and comfortable, a-as you have made me feel since you began to serve me." You feel your heart flutter at his words. "Since you arrived, you've been so sweet. Doting on me, caring for me, helping me with the daily crosswords." You laugh a little, and he smiles. "I want nothing more than to ensure that I get to enjoy that everday, and more importantly," a slightly darker tone ebbs its way into his voice. "I want to ensure that no other man does." You're a bit put off by the shift, but only nod.

"I should like to, sir." His head snaps up, his mouth hanging open slightly. "I'll admit, I always wanted to live in a fancy house like this, and the company isn't half bad either." You admit, shyly looking up at him. He is elated, his form almost trembling. "Do you mean it? Truly? You wish to accept my proposal?" He gasps. You nod. He lunges forward to hug you, causing the water to surge forward, but stops just short of you, remembering your nude form rests below the soapy water, as does his. "Ah, um." He coughs awkwardly. "I must ask, if we are to marry, and you do enjoy my company, would you be okay with the typically romantic things? I know people usually court first, but seeing as we've spent all this time together already." He says. You think. "Like kissing, and holding each other?" You ask. "Yes, like that sort of thing." He affirms. You nod. "I'm fine with trying it, but I need to tell you something." He nods for you to go on.

"I'm sure you know, we are a little reserved and conservative in our town. As a traveling man, and a general, I'm sure you have had your share of, um, intimate encounters. I was always told to wait, however, and I may not be what you are used to." You look at the water, trying to fight the insecurity gnawing at your heart. He only shakes his head quickly. "No, no, my darling girl! How could you ever be anything but perfect to me?" He asks, caressing your shoulder blade with his thumb. "I would be honored, if you would have me, to teach you about the more, intimate affairs of marriage and courting." He says. "I must admit, I'm afraid that I wouldn't be enough to satisfy you as a man, or a husband." He confesses. You gasp, and cup his face. "Why, sir?" You implore him to confide in you. "My dear, you are a mere twenty-three years of age, and I am forty-two. I'm practically twice your age. Besides being an old man, you had to help me with this blasted leg into the tub. I'm practically a cripple..." His insecurities begin to flow out as he confesses. You gently tuck your head against his shoulder. "No, sir. You are enough for me. You are a general, and a kind man. You have always treated me with respect. If I didn't think you were enough, I wouldn't have said yes to marrying you, would I?" He nods reluctantly. "No, you wouldn't have. You've always been a smart girl." He admits. "I'm willing to learn, as long as you show me, sir." You whisper.

He blushes, but takes this as a sign. "Well, seeing as we are due to wed, I don't see the harm in teaching you a few things now..." He says, pushing forward a little so your smaller frame is up against the slanted back wall of the tub. "Are you alright with this, you may tell me at any time if you want to stop." He says. You nod. "Words, my dear, please. I want to hear that you understand." He pushes. "I understand, sir." You say. He shakes his head as he plans a kiss on your forehead. "Call me Fritz, my little bride." He coos. "And since you are to be my bride, I hope you won't mind showing me what's been hiding under that uniform I gave you?" He asks. You blush, but slide a little further up the tub, parting your thighs just a touch, so he can see the bush of hair between them. "I haven't shaved, sorry." You say, a little embarrassed. He only chuckles, and shakes his head. "My dear, I've gone months without a shower, and shared a restroom and barrack with 27 other men. A little hair won't scare me off." He looks longingly. "Besides, it's what's under it I'm interested in." His hand suddenly comes to your inner thigh, the sensitive touch making you gasp. You've never been touched up there, much less by a man so strong. One of his large, calloused fingers comes to part your lips, exposing to your future husband your dripping, virgin holes. He lets out a wanton sigh at the sight.

"So beautiful, and untouched?" He asks. You gulp, and nod. "It is my honor to be the first and last man to pleasure your sweet little sex." He says. He traces that finger up and down you're folds, making sure you are properly teased, and getting a feel for you. "So wet, and not just from the bathwater, it seems." He whispers. "Is this how you planned to lose your purity? To a man twice your age, and an invading military officer, no less?" You blush in shame. "I didn't think of the specifics, just... just wanted you to have it, sir..." You whine. His grins grows, and he lets out a groan as he latches his lips to your neck. He licks and kisses up and down your neck, until he finds a spot that makes you let out a beautiful whine, causing him to nip at it. "Do you think your father would be less likely to accept my proposal if he noticed you covered in marks of love from me?" Fritz asks, and you only giggle a little. He finger wanders up to touch the pearl of your sex, making you gasp. "Oh, Fritz... what are you doing?" You ask. "Just finding your pearl, my dear. I want you to cum at least once before I take your virginity. I want to please you, my darling girl." He kisses your cheek, before he presses another finger against your pearl. He rubs in soft, slow circles, trying a few different angles before he finds one that pleases you, which he discerns from the moans you let out. "Fritz, mm-" You moan. You can feel a slow heat spreading, as something in you builds. "Please, a little faster?" You ask. He tuts, and looks at you. "Can't you be patient?" He teases. "No, wanna finish..." You mumble. "Want you in me, I-I wanna be your little wife." He almost chokes at your pleas, the words going straight to his cock. He didn't think you could arouse him even further, but you always did exceed his expectations. He quickens the pace, and you can feel your orgasm approaching. "Yes, Fritz, Yes. Please, make me cum." You beg. "You want to cum, cum so I'll put my manhood into you? Want me to make you a proper little wife for me?" He edges you, and as you nod and agree profusely, you feel that wave wash over you. Your pussy convulses around nothing, as you let out a whine that sounds like music to him. This beats his visits to the royal opera a hundred times over.

As you pant, coming down from your high, Fritz holds you in your place, rising a little out of the water himself. You blush, as his erect manhood becomes visible. He's well groomed, and while the tip isn't pronounced, there's a curve to it that makes your mouth water. "Well, do I seem up to your standards, my love?" He asks. "More than that, Fritz. You're so pretty..." While it seems like nothing to you, these words strike him hard. He's never been called pretty before, and hearing it from your soft lips wipes the lewd grin off his face, replacing it with momentary shock. He pulls himself to you, his chapped lips colliding with your soft ones. You squeak, but melt into it. He tastes like earl grey tea and the occasional cigars he would smoke, but only when stressed. You both gasp as he pulls away, needing air. He places many small kisses on your face, making you smile as you look up at him. "My sweet, sweet girl. Always so kind to this old man..." He murmurs. As he does, he rolls his hips forward a little, allowing the underside of his manhood to rub against the length of your sex. "I'm going to be gentle, alright? It might hurt a little, especially with me being quite a bit larger than you. But I promise to take it at your pace, alright?" He asks, his hands resting gently on your waist. You nod, and feel his hard tip prod a few times at your aroused pearl, before moving down to line up with your entrance. He warns you a little, before gently pushing the tip in. You wince, and he continues to soothingly rub your waist with his thumbs. He moves himself out, then rolls his hips back in, a little deeper with each thrust. It hurts, but the relaxing warm water helps, and it's not as bad as you thought it would be. "Feels okay, darling?" He asks. "Yes..." You respond, focusing on the feeling of him inside you. As he continues, the pain subsides, and he begins to quicken the pace when he tells you this.

"God, Fritz. You're big, s-so big..." You moan, his hips causing your ass to bounce back and forth off the wall of the tub. "I' feel 'mazing." He huffs. "So tight, and warm. My girl, letting me take you like this, getting you ready for our wedding night." He feels himself harden even further at the thought. "Y'know, I think it'd be a shame not to share how sweet you are, how caring." He says, his hips now pounding at your cervix. "W-what?" You ask. He had made it clear earlier he didn't want to share, so despite the pleasure you are confused. "Saying you'll make a good wife, but I think you'd make a better mother." He moans. You gasp at the thought. "All swollen with my baby, my child. Letting me care for you for once, instead of helping me walk cause of my leg, I'd get to help you around..." He thrusts grow more erratic at the idea, and you feel yourself about to climax once more. "Let me, my love, please. Let me fill you with my seed, my children. Let your fiance make you a mommy..." He begs. Just as you shout an agreement, you feel yourself convulse around him, causing his breath to hitch. He groans. "God, gonna finish to now, going to give you my babies..." He shouts. You feel a warmth flood you, as he sprays hot, white ropes of cum into your womb. You both pant, taking quite some time to recover.

Being the strong man he is, he bounces back quite quickly, while you are so tired you can barely move. "I'm sorry, my love." He coos. "Perhaps I was a bit rough for your first time..." You shake your head. "Mmm, no. I-I felt good, just, I'm just tired." You yawn. He chuckles. He cleans himself, and you, before draining the tub. He grabs both of your clothes as he carries you past your servants quarters, and into his room. Helping you to redress in your undergarments, he lays you down. You sigh as your body melts into the luxury sheets. He sits beside you, gently stroking your face. "Get some rest, my little bride." He whispers, before departing back to his office. He heads to the front door, and picks up a letter dropped off from the courier. Inside the envelope is your father's response, from a proposal sent several days ago by Fritz. Once again, though this was his third and final time asking, your father once again denied your hand in marriage to Fritz, saying he would never marry his precious girl to an invader. Fritz grimaces, as he had not wanted it to come to this. Sighing, he writes two more letters in response. One to your father, stating his intent to take your hand either way, and another to his second-in-command, ordering a man to be jailed for treason and defying military orders. The first letter reads as follows.

Dear sir,

As you are well aware, this is the third time you have rejected to allow me to take your daughters hand in marriage. While i understand your hesitation, I do what I do only to provide her a safe, comfortable life, which I do not believe you could have provided her, in your town which my men overtook in merely three hours. I could not imagine if a man worse than I had set his sights on her instead. Rest assured, that in light of your soon-to-be imprisonment, I will care for her. She has developed a reciprocation of my feelings, and despite your refusal to wed her to me, as I write this she lays in my bed, beginning to bear my child. I wish that you had been understanding, and done what was best for your daughter. Now, she will marry happily, but have no father, and the blame lies only on you.

-Fritz, General of the Northern King's forces.