#to just like. let happen. yes people do rape people from seeing rape shit on tv. idrc what you need to tell yourself bc thats the reality. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

happilyhertale · 11 months

Text

The Rogue Prince - Daemon Targaryen x wife!reader

Summary: After a stressful day that leaves Daemon in a bit of an angry mood, you decide to give him some relief. But in a different way than you usually do.

Pairing: Daemon Targaryen x poc!wife!reader

Warnings: Smut; 18+; NSFW; Minors do not continue reading!

Author’s note: Hey you (: A one-shot Daemon story requested by Anon 🖤 It took me some time but I hope you like it! English is my second language, please forgive me if I made any mistakes (:

Word count: 3.5 k

Other stories of mine

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

You didn't have to look up, just the way the door slammed open was enough of a sign for you to know - Daemon was pissed. He entered without knocking, his armour clattering against itself.

In a mixture of snorts and grumbles, your husband strode into your chambers. As you lifted your gaze, your warm hazel eyes met the captivating intensity of his purple eyes, sending a shiver down your spine. Your curious gaze wandered further, discovering the mess of dirt and the almost macabre pattern of dried blood clinging to him. Uncertainly, you put aside the book you were engrossed in and approached Daemon, who was already in the process of freeing himself from the constricting confines of his armour. But before you could approach him, a piece of his armour flew into the far corner of the room.

"It will not improve your mood if you damage your armour," you say gently and help him to open his armour.

He just looks at you and his gaze makes you shiver a little again.

"What do I care about this fucking armour?" he hisses.

You look at him and your hands continue to work on the buckles and remove the chest piece.

"You want to tell me what happened?" you ask quietly.

There is a brief silence in your chambers and you use the time to admire his muscular chest, visible under his shirt. His body does not fail to bring you to ecstasy.

You look into his eyes again as he begins to speak.

"None of these idiots in this council understand the importance of cleansing our city of these filthy criminals! Not one!" he hisses.

You nod at him and try to concentrate on his words and not let his body distract you.

Your hands continue to work on the buckles of his armour.

"The city is full of disgusting creatures. They steal, they kill, they rape and none of those cunts at that council table give a shit!" he continues to hiss.

"But you do," you say softly and his eyes meet yours.

"I will teach these people to fear the golden cloaks again," he says in his deep voice.

You smile slightly and take off the last piece of his armour. Your fingers begin to take off his shirt.

"First we have to clean you up," you say gently.

Daemon's soft chuckle, markedly different from his previous behaviour, resounds through the air as he spreads his arms and asks you to release him from his shirt. His shimmering silver lengths fall over his shoulders, framing the network of scars etched into the skin of his neck and nape. These battle-scarred marks, created by victories and fire, are revealed in all their glory.

Your fingertips run tenderly over these well-deserved scars, your soft olive hue a striking contrast to his pale skin. You relish these imprints of his commanding prowess on the battlefield, each scar telling its own story, a testament to his unwavering leadership qualities. Daemon watches the movements of your fingers and notices how your gaze is fixed on his chest, unable to avert your gaze.

"Are you sure you just want to bathe me?" he murmurs, and your gaze jumps to his eyes.

You smile slightly, "Yes, I do," you say seriously and take his hand, leading him into the adjoining bathroom. Daemon grunts in disappointment, but lets himself be led along. The bath is quickly prepared and warm steam rises from the tub.

Daemon stands next to the tub of hot water and begins to open his trousers. As they slide down, you can see his already hardening arousal, but you avert your gaze and go to a small dresser in the corner of the bathroom.

Daemon watches you, a grin on his lips.

"Oh come on... You can't ignore my needs like that..." he says, but you interrupt him.

"Into the warm water with you," is all you say as you look through small bottles on the dresser to find the right one. You have these little vials from your home in Dorne, filled with different elixirs, and this time you want to put him in the right, stimulating mood.

Daemon grumbles something unintelligible, but obeys and gets into the tub. His gaze is fixed firmly on your back.

"Will you at least keep me company?" he asks, and you can hear in his voice that he is getting impatient.

You turn to him and smile, "No... at least not in the water," you say softly.

With two bottles in your hand, you stride to the bathtub. In the soft, flickering light created by candles, Daemon's gaze fixes on you and you can see an unspoken desire in the depths of his eyes to just grab you. But instead of giving in to temptation, his hands grip the edge of the tub. He leans back slightly and lets you pleasure him, a sign of trust he has only in you.

You kneel behind him, set the vials aside and carefully remove the hair ribbon from its silken lengths. As the ribbon gives up its hold, his hair falls gracefully over his shoulders. The once shining silver strands, now clouded with dirt and sweat, literally crave your touch. You gently begin to work water into the lengths, and the soothing rhythm elicits a contented murmur from Daemon as his eyes are gently closed.

Your hand wanders to a vial, its lid giving way with a soft, melodic pop at your careful touch. At this slight disturbance, Daemon's eyes flicker open to take in the unexpected intrusion.

"What's that?" he murmurs. You smile slightly, "Lavender oil... I like it when your hair smells fresh," you say soflty.

Daemon reflects your soft smile, "All right... If my Dornish princess wants me to smell like a silly bush from the garden, I don't think I could refuse," he mutters. With a smile, you apply a few drops of oil to his shiny silver locks and enjoy the feel of his long strands gliding through your fingers as the accumulated dirt runs effortlessly down.

After pampering him with your grooming, you rise and hand Daemon a towel. With a synchronised movement, he accepts the towel, and as he dries himself, you return to the bedroom with the other vial of elixir. Daemon follows you silently, his shapely form wrapped in the loosely hanging towel.

"Now you're going to take care of my needs?" he says to you, a cheeky smile around his lips. And at that moment you notice the bulge under the towel. You smile, "Lie down on the bed," you say.

Daemon's smile widens, like that of a child who finds an unexpected, delicious treat. He complies with your request and lies down in your marital sanctuary - the very bed where he makes you squirm and beg every night. But this night it will be different.

With an expectant gaze, Daemon watches your every move. How you slowly take off your dress and walk towards the bed. You crawl onto the bed and his hands reach out longingly to pull you close.

But you push them away, "Hands by your side," you say and move to sit astride him. Daemon looks irritated, but he obeys. You take the bottle and open it while Daemon watches you closely.

"More lavender oil?" he asks, "You know I'll have trouble commanding my men if my whole body smells like a flower bouquet" he says.

With a soft chuckle, you murmur, "Not a hint of lavender..." as the delicate scents of osmanthus and patchouli dance around you, washing you with their stimulating embrace as you place a few drops of the oil on your warm palm. Daemon's eyes remain fixed, transfixed by your hands as you set about the task of massaging the oil into his powerful chest.

"And I don't think you'll have any problems commanding your men.... No matter how you smell..." you say softly.

Daemon can only growl slightly as he slowly feels the effect of the scents and his arousal presses harder against you. You can feel a slight movement of his hips as he tries to grind against you. You stare into his eyes as your hands continue to glide over his skin.

"Don't move," you say to him. Daemon grunts, but he obeys - again.

You hear his breathing become more irregular as your hand turns to his belly. Slowly you massage the oil into the muscles of his belly, but your hands are unstoppable. You sit up a little and release him from the towel and his hot length springs free. It twitches wildly as you begin to rub his pubic hair with the oil. It twitches even more wildly as your hands turn to the shaft of his cock, which almost invites you to let yourself sink onto it. Daemon grunts impatiently, wanting to move his hips again, to somehow get close to your cunt.

"Don't," you just whisper, and your hands begin to wander up and down. You hear him gasp, see his hands gripping the sheet beneath you tightly. Your hands slide faster as his member literally pulses. Daemon breathes faster and faster as he chases his climax and you can already see the first drops of his release coming from the tip of his cock. You lean down and lick them away and hear him hiss.

"Woman, you will be my death," he whispers breathlessly. You just look up at him, grinning a little, and bite your lip. Your hand slides up and down faster.

It also increasingly excites you that he could just grab you, push you onto the bed and thrust into you, but he does not. He lies there and lets the feelings and actions wash over him.

When suddenly you feel a strong twitch in his member and Daemon spurts his hot seed onto his belly. He grunts loudly and watches you pump the last drops of cum out of his cock. He breathes heavily and closes his eyes briefly. His head falls back on the pillow.

"I think I need to take another bath..." he mumbles.

But you only smile, "I'm not done with you yet," you whisper. Daemon opens his eyes and looks at you in irritation.

You notice how he slowly softens in your hand, but it is not over for you yet. Slowly you slide further down and push his legs apart. You kneel between his legs and your hand gently moves along his shaft again. Daemon hisses slightly as you lean down.

You take his softening member into your mouth and begin to suck. The remnants of his cum unfold their salty taste on your tongue, but you love the way he tastes.

Daemon gasps, "What are you doing?"

But you just grin slightly and push him all the way down your throat.

"Gods...", Daemon gasps, but you notice that he is getting hard again.

But then, with a pop, you release his cock from your mouth. He is breathing heavily and still looks irritated, his cock hard again and standing in all its glory.

Daemon's heavy breath echoes from the walls of your chambers. You move and lie down beside him. You bite your lip gently and lean forward, kissing his neck softly. Your tongue is like pure fire that hits his skin and could cause new scars. A hot, arousing fire. His hips rise again with arousal and his hand reaches for the back of your head to move your head down. But you stop caressing his neck and look at him. You shake your head resolutely and Daemon pulls his hand back grumbling.

His voice fails in his throat and nothing more leaves his mouth as he slowly loses control. A growl sounds from him and his back arches slightly as your hand begins to caress his chest.

A moan escapes him as your nails leave light marks on his skin.

"Stop it, love," he murmurs. "You're driving me crazy" But you see his cock twitch wildly and you know he doesn't want you to stop. His hands reach into the sheet again and you know, that it's taking all his will not to grab you. Gently your lips graze over his neck as your fingers gently move down, teasing him. You feel the remnants of his previous climax and you see him bite his lip as you slide through it. His eyes are closed and you can see him enjoying this. Your fingers gently caress his abdomen, following the light hair to your destination.

A moan escapes him again. His hand suddenly reaches for your arm and you gasp softly, feeling his fingertips dig into your arm, showing you how much you're already teasing him. But you are not finished yet.

Daemon tries to concentrate on staying calm for your sake.

Once again, you can't stop your fingers from stroking his pubic hair as your smile widens. You watch his expression as you caress him.

A sharp intake of breath comes from his throat. He feels nothing but your touch. His fingertips dig further into your arm, but he finds it hard to stay still. You feel his muscles twitch and he just wants to pull you closer to him and take control of the situation so he can use your body as he wants.

But he forces himself to stay still. He forces himself to enjoy the passive role for once.

Your fingers gently graze the tip of his hard manhood. You bite your lip as you feel it twitch. As you close your fingers around the tip and the twitch shoots through your fingers.

"Ops...", you say softly, with an air of innocence, but Daemon knows you are not innocent and it's impossible for him not to react to that – a soft hiss escapes him.

His back arches slightly upwards and he grips your arm even tighter. His head turns towards you. His eyes are still closed, but you feel his lips seek yours. But you let him suffer. Let him feel what it is like to be on the receiving end of something like this.

"Is this what I put you through every night?" he suddenly asks softly, still keeping his eyes closed. You hear a slight breathlessness in his voice.

You smile again, "Yes... Every time you tease me..." you whisper.

You feel at your fingertips how his arousal continues to make itself felt, and the drops wet the tip of his cock.

"You like that, don't you?" you whisper.

He responds with a low growl, as if he's too busy enjoying it to reply with words.

His fingers disengage from your arm and sink to the bed, holding them still. It works up to a point. But you see his fingers clench into fists again and again.

You lean forward again and gently kiss his neck. Lightly you let your teeth sink into the skin. Again you hear a slight growl.

But still your fingers do not touch his hard member. Teasingly you only stroke his tip, refusing to embrace it completely. You feel it twitch violently again and again. Almost desperately it wants you to touch it. And again a moan escapes Daemon's throat.

You notice his breath quickening, and your own smile turns into a wicked little grin.

His fingers clutch the sheets on the bed as his muscles tremble slightly. You can feel the tension building inside him.

"Stop it... stop..," he murmurs, his voice strained by the desire to just grab you.

You continue to nibble on his neck. Your fingers, meanwhile, are stroking his pubic hair again, your caress growing rougher.

"Would you like me to touch you?" you whisper. With this question you have sealed his fate.

You see him contort his face almost painfully, trying to resist his urge. It would be so easy for him to give in, to just turn and take you as he wants. You see the inner struggle in him. The Rogue Prince who never begs, never bows to any command. The dragon who needs control over every situation. But still you see his breathing quicken, his muscles tremble slightly, he moistens his lips.

"Yes..." he whispers after a while, almost defeated.

But then his fingers move to your hips, wanting to grab you and force you closer to him. You slap his hand away.

"No, Daemon. Get your hands off me," you whisper warningly in his ear. You underline your momentary power and nibble lightly on his earlobe.

Your fingers now find their way to his balls, your fingernails gently scratching the now taut skin and he hisses again.

It's a struggle for him to take his hands off your hips. He doesn't want to. But he obeys.

You continue the torment, your fingernails almost driving him mad.

"You know you'll pay for this, you little pest," his voice sounds a little hoarse.

But with each word his voice grows softer and is now just a low murmur as his body continues to tremble with desire. You have the power over this moment, and you know it. You smile just slightly, knowing you will pay for this, and a feeling of anticipation spreads through you.

"Please," he murmurs suddenly. His breathing is quick and heavy. Right now he is nothing more than your plaything. The Rogue Prince on the verge of begging.

You bite his neck again, "Please, what, my love?" you whisper as your fingernails continue to tease his balls. He hisses again. His hips jerk a little, desperate for a touch.

His mouth opens and closes as he tries to find words to say what he wants. It's all gasps and moans and deep, animalistic noises now.

"Please... I need more...," he finally murmurs weakly. He can't say much more, he wants you too much. You know it. He knows it. You both know it.

A low grumble escapes his throat as he hisses again. He clenches his teeth as you grab his balls. He tries to take a deep breath to keep his voice low, but he can't stop his voice from shaking. "Touch me...", these are the only words he manages to say.

Your hand continues to grip his balls, squeezing them gently.

You kiss his neck, "My Rogue Prince...", you whisper.

He is silent now, looking at you with half-closed eyes, his breathing heavy.

You continue to kiss and nibble on his neck as your hand holds him tight, enjoying this newfound power over him. "If you keep this up, I swear we won't leave this bed for at least twelve hours. And I will make you suffer,“ he hisses, his last attempt at exuding dominance.

You smile at him, your fingers now slowly stroking along his shaft.

"I wouldn't mind," you whisper.

His hard manhood is dripping with precum. Your hand wanders along his hard manhood. It twitches violently as you rub the pecum over its tip. He gasps and grunts.

"Oh, you like that, don't you?" you whisper as you nibble on his neck again.

"Yes...!" Daemon suddenly groans. You're playing with fire and you know it. Your teasing only drives him closer to his climax without you actually touching him. But you embrace him fully now, and the sudden rough touch makes him grunt loudly. Your hand wanders up and down, your other hand starts massaging his balls again.

"Then come for me, love...", you whisper. You are also breathing harder by now as your hand slides along his hard manhood. He is moaning uncontrollably by now, his manhood twitching. His eyes are closed and his hips are twitching.

His fingers dig deep into the sheet as he makes sounds you didn't think he was capable of. But his moans turn into hisses as your hand works faster.

He pulls your head towards him and kisses you fiercely, almost desperately. He holds nothing back now and you let him.

"My wife. My Dornish princess. My queen. I am yours. Only yours.", Daemon gasps and you feel the twitch move from his balls up into his cock.

And then he comes. Again his seed spurts onto his belly, while your hand does not slacken in its movement. You're still kissing him and he moans and whimpers into your mouth.

Daemon releases the kiss, still breathing heavily, his eyes closed. Softly he whispers your name, smiling.

"You're cruel, you know that? Cruel and beautiful," he whispers.

You giggle softly and watch the movements of his face. After a few deep breaths from him, he suddenly moves. So suddenly that you gasp slightly. Your eyes grow wide as he suddenly hovers over you. You stare into his violet eyes, his cum dripping onto your soft, olive skin, creating a complete contrast. Daemon slides his finger through it as it continues to drip, just as you did on his skin before. A dark grin on his lips.

"I'm going to make you pay even more cruelly for this..." he murmurs and before you can say anything, his lips meet yours and his hand finds its way between your thighs. Your whimpers echo through your chambers as his hand grips your cunt roughly.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Tag list

@aemonds-wifey @hoshi-miharu-blog @arryn-nyx @aemonds-eyeball @praline357 @melsunshine @drinking-tea-and-be-obsessed @lauftivy @valeskafics @dreamlandcreations @hopelesswritergall @wetbitchlibrary @sylasthegrim

1K notes · View notes

svndaysaweek · 2 years

Text

Enlightenment (Prequel to ‘Homicidal’) — {Feat. Karina, Somi}

7.1k words

A/N: Hi, I'm 7daysaweek! This is a prequel to my very first fic, 'Homicidal'. I don't know how I got to write this long. Big big thank you to @dnd-writes and Delphi for editing and proofreading (and rewriting) this!! And thanks for liking my stuff y'all...

TW: Sexual Harassment (Rape), mentions of death.

Tags: Creampie, anal, choking, bondage, master-slave, squirting and a lot more...

——————

"Fuck, fuck, fu-bbb...!"

"Quiet, Jimin."

You palm her mouth with your right hand and hug her waist with the other then push her sweaty back onto your body.

Your hand on her mouth goes down to her bouncing tits as the other thumbs her anal entrance then you double the pace and the slapping sound of your flesh almost evens her scream.

"Aaah, fuck, fuck, fuck!"

Her head falls down as her neck loses its strength but you bring it back up with a handful of her hair.

"Do you see anyone looking at us, baby?"

Almost everyone is, in fact. It would be even harder not to notice a loud couple fucking in an outside parking lot, upon the poorest attempt to hide behind a car. However, you are not looking for some normal passerby, and for your predatory hunger, Jimin spots a proper prey.

"Fuck–Ah, there! That–that tall girl noticed–ahh–us,"

Her finger points somewhere but helplessly limps down on the car. You follow her finger and spot a girl looking your way. The color of her name tag indicates that she's a 1st grader—two years junior to you. As soon as your eyes meet she quickly avoids it by turning her head away.

Good. She's going to be your target.

You're hunting for another clumsy slut to tame and fuck, and this is the best way you've ever discovered.

"Great job, Jimin,"

You slap her ass and duck your body to bite on her ear. She lost her last drop of consciousness—you know she already came countless times. You can tell by her shaking legs and convulsing walls. Jimin is now nothing but a limp moaning mess dumped on some car, taking relentless assault on her pussy.

"Here's your reward."

Yes, please, Jimin begs with her eyes. You see the neediness in them.

"Oh, please... Aaaah it's so good–fuck!"

A brutal bite is marked on her white shoulder as you color her walls white. In between the car and your tired body, hers is periodically lifting yours up and down with heavy breathing—let alone the irregular spasms matching your throbbing cock.

"You're a fucking slut, Jimin."

You breathe those words out right into her ear. They obviously were insulting words, but only worked to make her smile and even giggle a little bit.

"You love me like that,"

You squeeze Jimin’s tits for the last time then put your pants back on. You buckle your belt and nonchalantly ask Jimin, who is still struggling to descend from her high..

"Do you know her name?"

Jimin breathes heavily as if even her lungs convulse from the sex that just happened.

"Uhh, Somi maybe? Haa, yeah. It's Somi."

"Is she popular?"

You flip her body to button her shirt back up and put her jacket on. Not necessary but at least you let her look presentable.

"Yeah, quite. Among first graders. She's got nice tits and a pretty face but doesn't socialize often. Not sure she has a boyfriend around."

You nod throughout her speech. A popular girl who's introverted, that'd be perfect to play on. Prey on.

Alright, so that Somi girl is up next.

******

You're intentionally on the same bus as Somi, with Jimin accompanying you. The bus is packed with a lot of people returning home but you two are the exceptions to that. You push through the people in your way as you approach Somi from behind.

You then purposefully push your body on hers, making sure she notices you by rubbing your crotch on her clothed ass. Somi gets startled by a sudden touch on her ass and apologizes to you.

"Oh! Oh, I'm-I'm sorry,"

She recognizes you. You catch that split-second moment when her eyes widen at you. You, however, to her apology, don't give a shit and raise your hand to reach for a bar to hold onto, of course making sure you touch her breasts by accident. Somi this time doesn't speak but shrieks a bit at your touch, throwing an embarrassed glimpse at you then quickly looking down at nowhere.

To your eyes it's only a horny girl acting innocent because you saw it in her eyes—the burning sensation. Her face is visibly red, hands have lost their destination, legs can't just stay calm. Moreover, she doesn't even try to avoid the contact on her ass.

See? It's just too easy. It's not even gonna be a one-sided rape—her inner slut might be begging for it anyway.

So this is the plan: You heat her up on the bus, get off at the same stop, stalk her and then fuck her somewhere creepy. That'll make her give in completely. That'll draw a complete obedience out of the most basic instinct inside her.

The bus arrives at the stop where Somi gets off so you and Jimin follow her. As soon as she enters a rather deserted alley, you snatch Somi by her wrist and push her onto the wall.

She squeals out loud at the sudden hostility only to be silenced by your hand gripped around her neck hard.

Somi resists you but Jimin ties her arms behind her back with her own necktie. Somi then starts to kick your legs and you start to feel a little bit pissed off.

Slap.

You slap her cheek hard and her swinging legs stop moving. Somi looks up at you weakly with her eyes as a teardrop runs down her reddened cheek. Those legs settled, you pull down her skirt and panties in one sway. Jimin chokes Somi with her arms as you insert your dick inside her pussy with no resistance.

"Gah, hagh-!"

You can see her knotted arms struggle for freedom. Regardless of that you rip open her buttoned shirt to reveal a jiggling pair of voluptuous tits waiting for your attention. You tug down Somi's bra and slap her tits hard. Her moans then gradually turn into painful yelps and ecstatic screams.

"Ahh! S-stop, please-ah!-stop it! Hikkh-"

Jimin tightens her choking arm around her neck. Somi's face starts to redden even more furiously.

"Shut up, I know you want this."

Somi shakes her head. She shapes her mouth to say "no" but her voice is no longer available. Her mouth is now agape for more air. You up the pace of your thrusts and slap her cheek again.

"Then let me fucking make you."

Somi's eyes are half-closed due to orgasmic sensations and lack of air. As Somi approaches her high she loses her consciousness. Somi's last desperate efforts to escape from your grasp and Jimin's arms are nothing but a cute thing to watch.

You slap on her tits several more times—you like seeing her shiver every time you do. Actually, it's just your sadistic, psychopathic taste that you just like to hit, slap, choke and fuck.

Squeeze, slap, squeeze, slap. That pair of meaty flesh is such a good toy to play with.

Somi's empty gaze is locked on your eyes. Tears are now everywhere on her cheeks. Her wet juice is all over her thighs too. You rub her clit with fingers and she shudders—strength in her legs already long gone. Her voice is long gone. Somi's lips keep moving but it doesn't even shape any word. Only the lips down there feel alive.

Despite the lack of air, her walls are working properly—they convulse hard and soon she cums. Somi's eyes roll back to her head as she passes out, before falling down limply on the ground.

"Dirty fucking slut. I didn't even cum yet,"

You're talking to yourself, but at the same time you weren’t only to yourself.

Jimin grins as she looks at your throbbing cock then she kneels down in front of you and starts to suck it. The moment her lips sealed the head, you grab on to her head and begin fucking into it.

"Holy fuck, Jimin. Always a good slut for me, aren't you?"

You always talk like that, but you're no different from Jimin in that you're a good, perfect dick for her, and she knows it because once she hears thatshe looks up at you with those teary eyes and smirks. Not surprising at all that her hand is already working diligently on her soaking cunt.

It's not been long since you began facefucking Jimin, but the growing orgasm from the previous session is approaching. Without warning her, you pull her head inward for your balls to hit her drooling chin then cum straight into her gulping throat.

"Phaah, you're fucking delicious, baby. Bet she wants me to share a bit."

With remnants of your cum still inside her mouth, Jimin spits it out onto Somi's mouth and face. While you're arranging your pants, Jimin opens Somi's mouth and kisses your cum on it into it.

"Jimin, that won't wake her up,"

You laugh and tease Jimin kissing Somi.

The title Sleeping Beauty sounds about right on Somi. Those tits, that midriff, those slender legs, that cunt, and above all the attitude taking all of your assault. All virtues you consider appropriate is inside her, your potential slave for sex. Besides, Jimin seems to like her too.

You carry Somi to her home. Opening the door with her fingerprint, you step in to find the inside neat.

"Inside's quite nice,"

Jimin says as she sits on the bed after she opened the door to Somi’s room. You toss Somi's limp body on it then look around.

A frame on the nightstand and the photo inside catches your eyes. There's Somi smiling next to a guy as they hold each other's hand.

"Hey, you think this is her boyfriend?"

You ask Jimin as you show her the picture. She laughs and answers.

"Yeah, he looks dumb though,"

Jimin's hands drag you to the bed. She hugs you from behind and whispers into your ear.

"You could just take him out."

Jimin's big breasts push into your back, and there you grow impatient and push Jimin down on the bed. With a light squeal she lies down. You get over her body and kiss her.

There's brute in the kiss. There's violence in it. Jimin pulls back to breathe and you can see it in her eyes.

There's lust in them. You're no different, anyway.

"My little girl is getting horny, huh?"

Of course, watching you fuck another girl and being facefucked doesn't help her patience.

Needy words come out of Jimin's mouth.

"There's not even a second I'm not horny when I'm with you."

Jimin's mind is totally conquered by lust solely for you. Nothing new for you, though.

"I like that,"

You thumb her cheek softly—opposite to how you're going to treat her.

"Let me fuck your brains out, Jimin."

A declaration that earns you another slurpy kiss. Your right hand makes its way straight to her crotch, and her hand brings your left hand to her clothed tits. You can feel her taut nipples through her uniform.

"Mmm..."

Jimin moans into your mouth and the sound reverberates through your skull. You've always liked the quick reactions from Jimin. Her moans, screams and sometimes yelps tell you how well you are doing—how good you are.

You push the button to play her moan. Your fingers are now rubbing on her clitoris. Under her skirt you can feel the heat radiating from the very core of her body. The heat that you yourself provoke on her body. An aphrodisiac in the form of a human. That's what you are to Jimin.

That's what every man is eager to be, and you use it as a weapon to just pick a girl and enslave her. Jimin is no different from Somi's case—it's just a little more intimate between you and Jimin. And that makes you feel the massive pride to have the influence reach her. A perfect fuckbuddy with slight obedience.

"Ah, shit–Mmm yes...!"

You push your fingers into her cavern. You don't bother counting how many—two or three, it doesn't matter. She'll even accept your fist happily.

Your whole body and Jimin's are shaking by the pistoning of your arm. The bed is too, and Somi's body next to you obviously is too. As if intended to wake her up, you are quaking the bed, and Jimin under you is providing auditory stimuli—screams, yelp, squelching sound. The room you're inside is full of the sound of sex, and it hits the walls and ceiling in every direction possible—it echoes as it does, too.

It's been long since her eyes were shut. Jimin's lustful intention to concentrate all her nerves and senses on the sensations of sex she is receiving. Only a slight bit of excess will be enough to tip her over, and you can feel that you're almost on the verge of it.

"Hey, eyes on me,"

You choke her, an action that serves as the opposite of your direction to open her eyes. Somehow she manages to open her eyes, but still fails to follow your order.

"Haa, haa, fuck..."

Her eyes are not on yours. You can see that she tries her best to look at you, but your fingers—both on her neck and in her pussy—keep her eyes inside her head.

"I'm-I'm...Aaah—!"

Both of her hands dig into the mattress as she cums hard—Jimin always does, in front of you. At that moment you quickly undo your pants and boxers and hastily start rubbing on her reddened pussy lips, to gain some wetness on your dick for lubrication. Also while lubing your dick, you don't miss the chance to slap on them, which makes Jimin's trapped throat vibrate from her desperate efforts to let out moans. Seeing that your dick glisten with Jimin's nectar, without warning you insert your dick into her asshole, also resuming what your fingers were doing.

Your hand over her throat goes down to harshly squeeze her tits. They deliciously jiggle whenever you move inside her, whenever you touch it, and whenever you slap on it. Your hands aren't choking her anymore but she's still breathless—the sex itself is doing it.

Her eyes slam shut again as her squirt swashes on your fingers and the bed, as soon as you pull your fingers out. Jimin bites her lower lip and she hisses out her moan.

"Ffff–! Huh..."

You just chase your own pleasure, regardless of her tipped over state. Even if she yells stop you will. It's an unprepared anal session, but she's taking it very well. So tight and warm. And with her own fingers inside her used cunt she is making it even wetter.

"God, you're so fucking delicious,"

Yeah, delicious. That's the only feeling forming up inside your mind. Yoo Jimin underneath you has surely been seismic—on your mind and on the bed.

She certainly hears you but can't find any way to respond, still in the middle of orgasmic haze. You are still anally destroying her to the end—a close end for now. Your climax is approaching, and you never want to delay it. Actually, your pace even goes up as you cross the line. Jimin screams and even without any help her pussy squirts wildly.

"Fuck, I'm cumming...!"

You do in her ass, making sure her plump ass is filled up from the inside. The bed stops creaking and you feel like the world has also stopped—to you it might have, for a second..

The only remaining sound is Jimin's uncontrolled breathing and your heavy breath. You can see her abs convulse and flex, with her entire body spasm wildly because of that. You lie next to her on the damp mattress, almost throwing yourself onto it. Then Somi falls from bed onto the floor.

Yet she's unconscious.

"You must've choked her really hard, huh?"

You say looking up at the ceiling, and as a response Jimin giggles weakly.

"Yeah,"

Then she puts her arm over your body softly. Her fingers are fidgeting on your skin.

"Hey, can you pass me the cigarettes? I can't move now."

You get off the bed and take the cigarettes and a lighter.

"Here,"

You put one between her lips and light it.

A long puff and she smokes out. As you're lighting yours she taps the ash off onto the floor. Your eyes meet each other but you two stay silent. Cigarettes after sex feel so cozy, as you and Jimin do nothing but inhale them and smile at each other.

When you're done smoking you dress up and prepare to leave Somi's house. Her room is filled with smoke, but you couldn’t care less.

Half an hour has passed since you entered her house but she's yet to come back to consciousness. Having packed all your stuff you open the door.

"Ah, right. Almost forgot it,"

You walk back to Somi next to the bed and untie her arms. They both slide to the floor with a silent thud.

"My clumsy lady,"

You bring it to her neck and tie it around her neck tidily for her, which earns you a loving kiss from Jimin.

Her daring lips are hindering your actions—an interference that you would always welcome. Both of your mouths still smell like smoke but you don’t care at all. This time is just for your tongues to explore each other's mouth, not any other senses, just like your hands are now exploring each other's body.

It continues for a few dozens of seconds then you manage to grab hold of your sanity.

"God, we should get out of this place or we'll spend the whole night fucking."

She laughs in agreement.

"But I kinda like that idea,"

"Oh, you're gonna pass out like her,"

You say stepping out of the door.

"I like that too."

You spank her lightly, laughing. It's just fun to see how that subby girl in bed turns into this adorable little baby. But–

But are you no different from how you are, who you are in bed? You certainly have two faces—you are now Jimin's lover, but in bed you become reckless, ruthless, conscienceless, even psychopathic in front of sex, like your blood burns for violence. You're just thanking god that Jimin is the perfect partner for you to take in all of these.

"You're insatiable,"

You say as if nothing crosses your mind.

"You like it, don't you?"

Jimin starts to run towards the bus stop without giving you time to retort, running with a smile on her face looking childish and cute.

See, this is your problematic personality. You just raped a girl into unconsciousness, fucked your girlfriend in that girl’s bed and have no guilt on your mind. You might be right, because you know Somi didn't hate it. But would it still be right if you continue living like this?

******

The bell rings to officially announce the lunchtime break. You are waiting for Jimin at the parking lot as usual, as you see your girlfriend accompanied by another girl. It's Somi.

"Jimin, why did you bring this bitch here?"

You ask her after planting a light peck on her lips.

"I didn't. She came to me and asked me to."

Somi surely looks shy to make eye contact with you. Her hands are grabbing each other on her belly and she's looking down on the ground.

"You did, little girl?"

You kindly ask her, bringing her hand to yours. She gasps at your touch but accepts it to go on.

"You have a boyfriend, right? I saw his picture yesterday in your room,"

Jimin continues instead of you, as she unties Somi's necktie.

"Well, you're gonna have to make a choice, Somi."

You tell her as you bring your hand down onto her crotch, under her skirt. You can feel the heat—another slave for your cock is ready for you.

"Wh-what choice is it...?"

You grin. Jimin this time ties Somi's necktie around her neck very tight, successfully choking her.

"Your boyfriend,"

You pause for a second to bring her hand to the bulge on your pants.

"Or this."

Somi's shaking eyes look at you—she's becoming hesitant. But you are certain that it'll be an easy choice for her after all—she already did come here at her will, didn't she?

"Make your choice,"

You tighten the knot around her neck and she shrieks and stumbles toward you.

"I-I don't need my b-boyfriend anymore. I'll choose you,"

You slap her cheek as Jimin undoes Somi's shirt and skirt.

"No, you don't get to choose it. It is my decision to let you serve this cock."

Her tears drop down her cheeks but you know she's loving it, because not only her face is getting wet..

Her panties are damp. Juices drip down her thighs and you can see it.

"Sorry...Please let me serve your cock sir..."

You discontentedly bring her face in front of you powerfully and she stumbles and falls down.

"Uh-uh,"

Somi realizes what you mean and follows.

"... Master,"

The scenery in front of you is a sight to behold—a girl in such a heat kneeling in front of you, looking at you, calling you master with a makeshift leash around her neck. You feel like you want to choke her to death right now, and you also feel like she'll even let you.

"Wow,"

Jimin sounds shocked.

"Even I don't say that,"

Well, you'll see.

"Nice. Now show me how you are going to serve me, slave."

Somi gulps as you let your cock spring out of your pants. It hits her face and she loves it. You give her no time to admire and shove it right into her throat to the hilt, with the first thrust.

It's not surprising at all that she gags and coughs wildly, but that only provokes your fiery instinct to punish her for it.

And that punishment is you ramming your cock down her throat in a neck breaking pace—even faster than when you fucked her yesterday.

Somi's hands have long lost their proper position as they wander on your thighs, slightly pushing you off. But the more she resists, the more you want to devastate her.

"He's not gonna stop until he cums down your throat, little slut. You'll have to adjust to it."

You know, Jimin was just the same at first. She was nothing more than a gagging, coughing amateur, just like what Somi is now.

She grabs the leash and chokes Somi, but that makes no difference—that's just what your cock is doing already. Somi’s drool gathers on her cleavage—her tits are as big as Jimin, as you can confirm. And it falls down to the ground from her chin and your balls.

You can feel her every gag and it feels divine. You've unearthed another diamond by yourself. Somi's lack of air is bottoming out as she tries to pull out.

"Wrlk, glrk...!"

No way you're going easy on such a slut. Somi frowns from breathlessness but the only thing you care about is your own pleasure, not her safety.

"Nnngh, fuck!"

Thankfully, you soon unload your thick liquid down her throat, straight into her stomach. You stay there for about ten seconds and then pull out. Somi falls completely down on the ground as she breathes heavily for her system to recover properly. She can't even swallow it all, and it sprays out as she coughs several times.

"Oh, what a shame,"

Jimin pretends to pity her, but her hands are bringing the exhausted girl up to your arms.

"He's not done yet, little bitch."

Somi has not enough power to gulp down your cum in her mouth, but that's nothing to worry about at all—Jimin's mouth seals Somi's to keep it from spilling out. Somi irresistibly lets Jimin take her hard-earned load from her mouth, and Jimin's tongue moves hungrily inside Somi's mouth as she kisses her. Somi hurriedly gulps some down but there isn’t much left. She moans to Jimin to give the load back.

"Huh... Please–Uuuww"

Jimin then forces Somi's mouth open with her fingers on Somi's cheeks and spits your cum into it. Somi immediately widens her mouth out and gratefully savors the mixture of your cum and Jimin's saliva. After that Jimin lightly slaps on her cheek a couple times with a satisfied smile.

You have fully recovered your erection by now, seeing your two girls snowballing your cum. Without wasting any time you slam Somi’s pussy with your cock from behind. She hasn't still recovered enough to stand yet, so you rear choke her to support her body. As soon as you do that, both of her hands cling on your arms for her dear life, but the careless fucking you're giving her doesn't even let her resist.

It's a dejavù. Somi's choking out again, you are fucking her harshly again, and again she can't even let out any sound—her mouth is agape, but no matter how desperately she tries to scream, no words come out. There’s only one difference this time: she came to you of her own free will.

Slap.

Jimin hits Somi's cheek, only to redden her already blushing face. You release her from your choke and grab on the leash on her neck again. Somi's arms are now on the car in front of her to support her shaking legs.

It is not only her legs that are malfunctioning—her arms, her lungs, her well-fucked brains also are. Nothing but the orgasmic pleasure provided by you is traveling through her whole body, as if even her heart stopped sending blood for the veins to become vessels of the high you are injecting into her body directly.

"Ffff...Ugh-Aaah...!"

She can't even scream fuck. Now her neck gives in as her head falls down on the car with a thud.

Jimin lifts Somi's head and kisses her—it's a one-sided kiss of course, as Somi can't process what's happening to her at all, except your ramming cock.

No matter how hard, how many times you spank her, she can't react. No matter how hard or how many times she cums, she can't fucking stop. You grab a handful of her hair and bring her head next to yours—her back arches wildly. You growl into her ear, through the gritting teeth on her ear.

"I'm cumming, Somi. I'm gonna fucking mark my slave as mine."

"Go ahead, straight into her womb, baby. C'mon."

Jimin pleads you and you finally finish inside her womb. Somi's whole body reacts to your orgasm with violent convulsions.

You have to spend almost half a minute to get yourself back. Then you pull out. You swiftly bring your pants back up and leave Somi there and walk away with Jimin, like nothing ever happened.

"She's great,"

Jimin tells you and you immediately agree with a nod.

"Yeah, you found her first anyway so, good job."

You put your arm around her hip and continue.

"But my number one is still you, baby girl."

"Of course,"

Jimin says like she knows it, walking ahead of you and turning back to you.

"I'll fucking kill that bitch if she even tries to replace me."

She's smiling like it's nothing, but it doesn’t sound like a joke, you know she really means it.

"I know you would, but you won't have to. I just love to see you two sluts get down for me."

You grin at her and Jimin rolls her eyes.

"For your cock."

She corrects you.

"Actually, I think there's more of myself in my cock than in my head."

That earns you a funny giggle from Jimin.

"You're insatiable,"

******

You're on the bus again. You can spot Somi easily, thanks to her height. Seems she somehow managed to look normal enough to present herself in public. Somi keeps looking back as if she's looking for someone. You keep your eyes on her until her eyes find you. She then quickly looks away in shyness, but her bitten lower lip tells you that she's been anticipating this, that she's been wanting this.

Another insatiable girl–

No. You don't even treat her as a 'girl', but rather some object you own—something subordinate to you. An outlet for your predatory instincts. The word "hunting" used before sounds too right.

It's like going back to being a savage, your barbaric inclination to be cruel, brutal, violent and instinctive. And at the same time being medieval—possessive, authoritative, feudal and patriarchal, meanwhile being modern—selfish, stressful and hedonic. An astounding aspect of a simple slut that makes you discover your inner self at every different angle, from side to side.

You know Jimin and Somi love you like that when having sex. They know you deserve their obedience for the perfect sex you provide them with every time. They would willingly die being fucked by you—and you would do it to them without any hesitation. You would even cum on their dead body, but that's too far gone. Maybe you have a weird kink for death or something like that.

The bus stops after several more times and outside is already your destination. You eye Jimin and you get off together. Somi's waiting for you two, and you notice it but pretend to neglect it and walk past her.

"Uhh, m-master…"

Somi follows you and calls you.

The way she calls you sounds so right to your ears, so you turn around simultaneously with Jimin next to you.

"My house is… It's empty now and–..."

Somi can't even look at you. You excitedly watch Somi fidgeting as Jimin directs her to go on.

"And?"

"I was... I was hoping that you would–"

"Ahh, I think I'm too tired for that right now,"

You stretch your arms and yawn, acting as if you're not interested, to draw out the inner animalistic instinct, which will make her more inferior in front of you.

"No no no, you can just... just release your stress and fatigue on me, master. I–I'm here to serve you,"

Jimin smiles it off and hugs your arm while replying to Somi. She's testing the newly found possession quite thoroughly, beginning right from the inside—the outside of it has already been tested out to be flawless enough.

"But he already has me, bitch."

Embarrassed and dumbfounded, Somi's eyes quickly travel between you and Jimin. Her face blushes, her fidgety fingers move lazily on the hem of her uniform shirt, her legs twist against each other, all indicating her thin patience is about be torn apart under the weight of her neediness.

"Ugh… You can use me for your own good, too. Please, I need you to fuck me, slap me, bite me, choke me until I pass out, and anything… Let me be your slave. I need it."

Hearing that, Jimin laughs amused. You too are grimacing at Somi. But not because it's funny or something.

"Dumb fucking slut,"

You say that only because Somi's been wanting it, needing it. Needing you to talk like that to her, treat her like that.

Who's the one that tried to kick me off? Who's the one that shook her head no yesterday?

Well at least now she knows the inevitable power of your cock over her, and obviously she's being overwhelmed by it.

"Alright then, lead the way, Somi."

"Thank you, master."

You still hear the shyness beaming out of her words, but seeing that her horniness toward your cock is even greater you feel very much satisfied.

You soon arrive at her house, and Somi hastily opens the door with the fingerprint of her thumb.

"Wait, register mine."

Somi looks up at you in surprise and stutters.

"Uhh, that's–"

You thought she was a quick learner, but maybe she's just–

"Of course, master. Put any finger you prefer on it please,"

You do so, looking at her working on the door lock.

You and Jimin step inside the familiar house and enter her room.

"Undress."

Jimin gives an order to her—Jimin's enjoying it too, you can surely tell. Not that you blame her for that. Who wouldn't, obviously.

Somi is now naked. Her bare thighs glisten with her juice that is forming up relentlessly, her sizable tits moving in synch with her slow breath.

You undo your necktie, and Jimin gathers hers and Somi's to her hand.

"On the bed."

Somi climbs on it and gets on all fours. You can see her wet lips contract from the anticipation. You bring your necktie with you and get on the bed.

"Give me your arms."

Somi presents them for you to tie them and buries her cheek in the mattress as an alternative support for her body. Half of her face is buried on the bed, but her other side faces up, while her ass is temptingly presented up, over the delicious arc of her back, pleasuring your eyes with quite a view.

Jimin hops on the bed to join you.

"She looks so fucking good,"

She spreads Somi's wetness over her asshole, preparing to drill it with her fingers. At Jimin's touch Somi shivers.

You can see her pussy twitching again at Jimin's rough touches.

"God, she's leaking even more,"

Jimin says, astonished.

"Ahh!!"

Somi screams loud when Jimin's finger enters her rear entrance. Even louder than when you slapped her face.

"What is it?"

You ask Somi, rubbing your cock on her watering pussy lips for lubrication, ready to penetrate.

"Nothing master, it's just... It's my first time doing anal,"

Oh, well. Can't miss this chance.

You directly put the head inside her ass instead, which draws a surprised squeal out of her.

"You know, giving a good first impression is always important,"

"O-okay–Oh my god, aah!"

You grab on her tied arms, put your right foot on her head, then make a rough thrust into her ass, letting your crotch meet her ass skin to skin.

There you start the ruination of her virgin ass. You see discomfort all over Somi's face, but that's to your least care. Besides, that's gonna change soon.

Jimin doesn't stay idle, as her fingers keep diligently working on not letting Somi's pussy empty.

"This is fucking tight,"

Squelching sound from Jimin's fingers and the sound of your hips crashing hers barely leaves room for Somi's moans and screams. You look down to check what's happening beneath your body, and you see Jimin's devilish grin spread as Somi squirts. You put more of your body's weight onto Somi's head like it's a pedal—it is, sort of, because the harder you step on it, the higher Somi's screams get. It's like an accelerator pedal, driving Somi's subby attitude even wilder.

"Wait,"

Jimin's fingers suddenly halt as she focuses on something. You stop and look at her curiously.

"N-no...fuck-"

Somi doesn't want you to stop, so she herself pistons her body on your cock.

"Do you hear it? The buzz?"

You do, but it'd be not like you if you stop here. You continue slamming into Somi's ass.

"Yeah. Can you-can you check who it is for me?"

Jimin walks to the table and picks up Somi's vibrating phone.

"It's a phone call. From heart emoji,"

There's a sudden shade of fear in Somi's dazed eyes.

"What?!"

You angrily look at her and Somi's urgent look makes you even more displeased.

"It's-it's nothing! J-just ignore it, master,"

Jimin brings the phone to you anyway.

"I think he told you to end this,"

Jimin coldly says.

"And I think your answer was yes,"

You answer the call.

"You're fucking dead."

You furiously say to Somi. You turn her head face down on the pillow and push it with your feet hard, suffocating her.

"What? Who is this? Somi?"

You start moving your cock inside her again, at the same time talking on the man over the phone.

"I'm fucking her right now. If you show up again, I'll fucking kill you."

You can feel Somi struggling for air, by her trembling legs and twitch back. You start thrusting even harder than before, pull her head back up with her hair, and bring the phone next to her face.

"Tell him now. Tell him to stay away from you."

"H-hey... I'm sorry to t-tell you but–oh my god fuck...!"

"Somi?! What the fuck is going on?"

You intentionally fuck her when she starts speaking.

Slap.

Jimin catches it and slaps her cheek hard.

"Why do you stop? Bitch, fucking tell him!"

You see tears forming up in her eyes and there you feel another level of ecstasy. You then start to really fuck her ass and she is completely out of words. She opens her mouth to speak but upcoming orgasm blocks her words. Instead she desperately moans to her boyfriend.

"Hey–aah... You have to–fuck, oh my god...! Stay away fr–om me–fr–om–now–on–ho–ly–fu–ck...!"

Her hoarse voice cracks at your every pounding and you see a teardrop of mixed reasons roll down on her red cheek.

"Somi, Somi? Fuck, what are you—"

You end the call and toss her phone aside.

"Fucking dumbass,"

Jimin repositions Somi's head on the pillow face down, again suffocating her.

Her toes curl and her tied arms strain as your cock attacks her ass, almost at the level of breaking its function as an organ of digestive system but to function only as nothing more than a hole for your cock. Your foot again goes back to where it was, on top of her head.

You start your brainless fuck. Somi starts her breathless sex, and Jimin starts a wordless kiss with you. You squeeze her perfect tits and pinch on her nipples. Her mouth curls up sexily, knowing you're close.

"You're about to cum."

You two part away from the kiss, and Jimin gets down to Somi's ass.

"Fuck yeah I am,"

"Cum inside her ass, baby."

You feel Somi's anal walls contract uncontrollably and squirt again. She is cumming, obviously, and you are no longer different. You flood her ass with your seed. Some of it even seeps out of her deadly tight hole. You pull out and Jimin makes it gape to see Somi's dark hole whitened by your thick cum. Somi spins her head left to keep herself alive. But still her eyes don't open, and you of course know why.

Jimin eats your cum out of Somi's ass. Her magical tongue works inside Somi's ass, as if savoring the best cuisine in the world—maybe it is, for her.

Despite Jimin's work, your warmth still remains inside her ass somewhere deep, too deep for Jimin's tongue to reach for. She retreats and Somi limply collapses on the watery bed.

"Remember, Somi,"

You pick her head up with her hair roughly and say right next to her ear.

"You wanted this to happen."

Jimin hands you a cigarette and you take it in deep into your both lungs. You exhale the smoke right into Somi's face, making her cough several times.

"If you don’t break up with him, I will kill him."

Sadness fills Somi's eyes. It's the kind of sadness that makes you feel good. You like it when she suffers. The sadness itself is okay to you, but the reason she's sad—that just fucking pisses you off very bad. How dare she even attempts to keep two relationships at once? Too much for a toy.

"And I fucking mean it."

You pick your garments up for you and put them on, after letting Jimin clean your used dick off with her mouth thoroughly.

Last sip of your cigarette, before you kiss the smoke into Jimin's mouth. Some of it escapes through her nose.

"I enjoyed it,"

Jimin giggles and says.

You are aware, because you could see it. Pushing a poor little slut to a dead end. It's so entertaining for the two of you. Your dick is for sure too good for Somi to taste it just for once. After this she's going to keep wanting it, keep needing it.

"I know you did, Jimin."

You blankly reply, not focusing on what she is saying.

"You know, I didn't cum."

Jimin seductively tells you, bringing your hand to hers. That certainty turns all of your attention to her. Your eyes rise slowly to meet hers, which are gleaming with lust and desire, a submissive one for you.

Please, touch me, her eyes beg.

That's just for a brief moment but enough for you to form a grin and do what she says. You hook your arm under her leg and bring it up, while the other hand rubs on her lips for a few times before exploring the gushing inside.

"Well done holding back, Jimin. Now cum for me."

You start to piston your fingers in a dangerous pace. As soon as your fingers hit her sweet spot, her arms lock around your neck for support, with her face buried in your neck.

"Hmmph, fuck...! Just like that, baby–ah, fff...!"

Jimin's nails and teeth dig into your skin, indicating the intensity of the pistoning of your fingers and ecstatic sensation she's receiving.

"Do you love it? Do you love how my fingers fuck your needy little cunt, you slut?"

Her bites get deeper at your piercing words as if she wants more.

"Hnngh, fuck! I-I fucking love it, baby. You–ah!!"

You yank her hair backwards and kiss her tongue first. Jimin lets you in her mouth, biting on your lower lip sexily.

"Mmmph...! Mmmph!"

She cums.

Jimin cums hard on your fingers with a pouring squirt. Your eyes travel from her cumming core, bouncing tits, her agape, drooling mouth, to her white eyes. They are looking at nothing but the orgasm itself. Satisfied with her bodily reactions, you pull out your fingers, and Jimin stumbles only to be supported by you.

You keep your eyes on hers until they come back. They meet yours and the divine orgasmic smile of Jimin makes you grin in return. Then you bring your soaked hand up for her to taste herself, which Jimin hungrily devour with her swirling tongue, never breaking eye contact with you.

"This is why I fucking love you, gorgeous."

Hearing that Jimin lightly bites on your fingers playfully, earning a small giggle from you.

Yes, you love Yoo Jimin.

But you are not planning to give Somi love. She's only here to be the outlet for the most basic part of your sexual instinct. And for lust to cover for love, there must be plenty. That's what she'll look for, ask for, beg for.

Besides, Somi loves how you treat her during sex, anyway, so...

She'll be already looking forward to the next time.

******

That Sunday, you visit Somi's house to get her ass pounded—who's insatiable now, huh? You open the door with your finger, that's why you registered yours on it. To fuck Somi whenever you want.

You step in and hear a male voice.

This sounds so wrong.

"I think the door just opened, Somi? We're not supposed to be expecting anyone,"

That male voice asks. Then you hear hurried steps toward the door of her room.

You and Somi open the door at the same time.

"Uhh..."

She tries to block your vision, but can't stop the inevitable.

"Who's that, bitch?"

You annoyingly push Somi out of the doorway.

"Who the fuck are–"

The guy stands up but—

Thud.

You whack his face with your fist and he collapses limply in front of you and Somi. No sooner does she follow him on the floor as her legs give in to the fright of vivid menace of death filling up the room.

You squat down to level your face to Somi's. She can't even look at you, full of fear. Seeing that you raise your hand to wipe her tears with your thumb, Somi shrieks but you softly brush her tears off her cheek.

"I won't hurt you, Somi. I'm gonna need to use you quite often anyway,"

You bring her into a seemingly warm hug and continue.

"But this fucker, he doesn't know his place."

Dropping Somi onto the floor carelessly and stepping out of the room, you turn around and throw your words coldly.

"He's a dead man now."

——————

A/N(2): I think I see some phrases teasing what happened beforehand. Which means I might work on another prequel. Thank you so much for reading my humble writing!!

#kpop male reader #kpop x male reader #kpop smut #karina smut #aespa smut #somi smut

999 notes · View notes

malarkgirlypop · 19 days

Text

MEDIC! Part 39 (Donald Malarkey x Fem!OC)

Don't be mad at me, ok!

TW- talks of R*pe, SA, Violence, talks of assault, (please let me know if I missed any).

Based on the HBO show and the actors who portray the characters, not hate to anyone involved.

Tag list: @imusicaddict, @b00ks1ut , @mstiemountainhop, @awaterfalls, @lovememadly92 @lucyfromtheoldhouse @blueberry-ovaries, @next-autopsy anyone else please let me know.

It felt as if all the air had been sucked from the room. My body shook with each second that ticked by in silence. The room had frozen, I looked from face to face, each with its own horrified grimace or rage filled stare. I glanced over my shoulder, Bull and Martin still held me steady but their faces had paled in colour, Bull appeared as if he was going to be sick as Martin’s had turned from grey to crimson.

No one uttered a word, the decision of what we were going to do hung on the Captain's shoulders. Speirs still hovered over the man, his glare set firm. He looked like a man ready to kill, and I was ready to see it happen.

Speirs cocked his gun, the only sound that filled the room. I stilled. Waiting with anticipation, yes kill him!

Speirs raised the gun to the man’s head, finger on the trigger. The men stepped back, turning away from the scene. But I watched never taking my gaze off the replacement, I wanted to watch the light leave his eyes. If Emily was really dead like he said, I needed to watch him die just like he had her.

The thought alone almost broke me, he was the last face she saw. So many questions flooded my brain, did he drag it out? Did he make her suffer? What was she thinking of when she had died? The questions alone filled me with so much fury I clenched my teeth together so hard they felt as if they were going to crack.

How was I going to survive if Emily wasn’t here? Speirs’ actions hushed my racing mind.

Speirs stood still, raising the gun at the man, a slight tremor to his hand. I could see him fighting with his morals. But this was Speirs, the ruthless killer. Or were those just tales. The Speirs we had heard about wouldn’t have hesitated, he would’ve pulled the trigger without a blink of an eye. But I watched the Captain, as he stared down the man. The man that had killed multiple other people, had shot Grant, had raped my Emily and murdered her in cold blood. He couldn’t do it. He couldn’t shoot the man who had done the most awful things to innocent people. So maybe they were just tales then.

He pulled the gun back, the soldiers in the room letting out the breath they were holding. Speirs glanced down at his hand covered in the replacement's blood, he wiped it on the man’s shirt. Looking disgusted. He took off his hat, straightening himself.

I couldn’t hold back anymore, I ripped free from my fellow soldier’s grip. Striding forward I took a hold of the Captain’s collar, I was foaming at the mouth with rage.

“What are you doing?! Shoot him! Kill him!” Ron’s face remained neutral as if I wasn’t screaming in his face.

“Malarkey, two wrongs don’t make a right.” Speirs slipped free from my grasp.

“He killed people! He deserves to die! I thought you cared about Grant and Em?” I threw insult to injury, I wanted a reaction from him, he was too calm.

Ron’s head whipped around as he stalked back to me.

“I do care.” His finger prodded at my chest. “He’s a drunk piece of shit that should be held accountable for his crimes, killing him would be putting him out of his misery. I care for my soldiers, Emily included, and that is why I will not kill that man.” Ron’s voice echoed around the room.

“But they're dead, he took them from us, so now we get to take what is owed.” I challenged him.

“Have the MP’s take care of this piece of shit.” He ordered the other men standing around us, not giving me an answer.

“Grant’s not dead Malarkey. His shot wasn’t fatal. I didn’t kill him, because I have every hope that Emily is still alive.” Ron didn’t let me utter another word, he turned on his heel marching from the room.

“Grant’s alive?” Tab asked the Captain as he left.

“Kraut surgeon says he’s gonna make it.” The Captain reported.

“We have to go find her.” I tried to dart from the room but hands held me still. “We’re running out of time! Let me go!” But the man's hand never let me free.

“LET GO OF ME!” I yelled, but Bull shook his head.

“No, Don, we need to make a plan. You can’t go running off trying to find her by yourself.” Johnny said as the rest of the men nodded.

“We don’t have time!” I argued. “She’s hurt, she’s alone.”

“We know, but Don if we don’t think about this we are increasing her chances of not making it back.”

“Don, we will find her, she’s tough!” Babe said from over Johnny’s shoulder. The rest of the men agreed.

They started making plans of teams of people and where they would search for her. I sat staring at the door. Everyone’e voices fading into the background, why didn’t the two men who witnessed it say anything about her being with them. Why didn’t I check on her before we left? I should’ve had her with me in the first place. I was frustrated, and angry.

How hurt was she? Was she still alive? What if she isn’t alive?

I felt like I was being suffocated. My breathing was shallow and fast. I was panicking. I couldn’t hear anything over my own pounding heart.

“Ok so Lieb, Babe and Malark are going to go to the road.” I heard Johnny say, I didn’t even wait for him to finish, I was up and out of the room. I heard footsteps behind me as Lieb and Babe fell into step with me.

Emily POV:

“Captain Speirs! Captain Speirs!” I called running up to the man who had left the main building.

It had taken me quite some time to walk back to the base after the replacement had driven away. I didn’t make it my mission to get back as fast as I could though. I used the silence of walking to process.

I couldn’t really, it was too hard. It hurt too much. So I grounded myself as I walked, what could I see, hear, touch and smell. Every time I fell back into the event I would ground myself. For now it was something I would push to the back of my mind. The man looked shocked to see me, shit.

“Emily?” The man stopped in his tracks as I approached him.

“Sir, is Grant alright?” I asked puffing from my run.

“He’s alive.” He stated, his eyes scanning over me.

“Good! I’m glad! Th-the man?” I asked hesitantly.

“MPs are sorting him.” I nodded, sighing.

“Emily, he admitted he hurt you too.” He uttered softly. I nodded again, unsure of what to say. My left hand was clamped over my right shoulder, but I knew that wasn’t the injury he meant.

“Right.” I hadn’t really thought of what I was going to say, I didn’t really think I was going to make it back. The last thing in my brain had been how I was going to deal with the consequences of his actions. I truly believed that this was my last night here on this earth.

But here I was standing back at the base, in somewhat of one piece.

“The replacement hurt me, yes.” I uttered. Ron looked weary, his eyes sunken into his face as lines of worry formed on his brow.

“I’m ok though, I think.” I couldn’t see the one man who had been so steadfast in all my times of need, looking so distraught.

Concern marred his face as I lied through my teeth. I wasn’t ok, but I was still breathing, that had to count for something.

“Em, you don’t have to be brave.” Ron stepped forward, his hand coming to cup my cheek. I stared at the ground unable to look him in the eyes. I knew if I would I wouldn’t be able to hold it together.

I took a deep breath trying to steady the swell of emotions that tightened my chest.

“I know.” I uttered, my voice not sounding as solid as I needed it to be.

“Where are you injured?” Ron’s had still held my face, his fingers gingerly titling my chin up so that my gaze met his.

“Shoulder, throat, cheek, I think that’s everything.” I stated my injuries like they were items on a grocery list.

“He shot me in the shoulder, strangled me, and hit me over the head with his gun.” As well as violated my body and soul, but I didn’t add that to the conversation. I wanted to keep some semblance of dignity.

“You need to be treated.” Ron replied in a monotone voice.

I studied his features, his cold mask had slipped back and was set firmly into place, looking down at me as if I had only scraped my knee. But a flicker in his eyes told me all I needed to know, he was holding it together for me, but only by a thread.

His stare looked ready to kill, the slight clench in his fist at his side before he flexed his fingers trying to shake loose the rage that rippled through his body. With each breath he took his nostrils flared, like an angry bull. Ron wanted to hurt someone, but he didn’t, for me.

“The men are planning to look for you, I’ll tell them you’re back.” He turned quickly, going to head back into the main building.

“Ron.” I called after him.

At his name he froze, his back still facing away from me.

“Let me tell them.” My voice was weak, I felt small again, I had been through war literally but in this moment I had never felt more vulnerable.

Ron turned his eyes scanning me up and down taking in my demeanour. I stood straighter trying to show I was fine, but my face seemed to give me away.

“I can tell them.” I tried again, putting some strength behind the words.

Speirs hesitated before nodding. He marched off to where he was going in the first place before I interrupted.

I took a deep breath before heading to the building I had been only hours before, happy and unaware of my horrific future. Funny how things could change so quickly.

I made my way into the building, the foyer was empty, but I could hear voices murmuring. Following the sound of the voice I find the men huddled in the main lounge, before I can announce myself I am hit by a solid wall.

My eyes travel up the figure I barged straight into, trying my best to hide the wince of pain that shoots through my shoulder from the impact.

Wide-eyed and shocked Don stares down at me, looking at me like he’s seen a ghost. Babe and Lieb peer out from behind the man curious as to why he had stopped so abruptly. Their faces also pale at the sight of me.

A tight smile finds its way onto my lips, trying to pretend that I am fine for the sake of the men who all look as if they are going to hurl.

“Em.” Don says softly, moving forward slowly.

“Hi.” My voice sounds hoarse, I swallow the sharp pain in my throat.

“EM!” Web calls from behind Don, as he sees me, he surges forward with open arms.

The sudden movement sent panic rising in my chest, I knew it was only Web but the alarm bells had already been raised.

I could feel the adrenaline coursing through my veins, as I gasped for air. My brain was only shouting one thing, survive! Survive! Survive!

I stumbled back, raising my hands to fend away his attack.

“No!” I yelled hysterically. I pitched backwards, my back harshly colliding with the table behind me. The table tipped as the contents that were scattered over it clattered to the floor.

My breathing was ragged, outstretched hands shook violently, the only sound I could hear was the erratic pounding of my heart.

Web stopped in his tracks, watching me with concern on his face. As did the rest of the men, they looked at me like a wounded deer.

I gagged, my stomach churning as it did so. I clutched my hand over my mouth and sprinted back out the front door. I desperately searched for somewhere to hide, I scrambled over to the hedges that framed the front of the property. Keeling over I emptied the contents of my stomach into the bushes. My hands clung to my pants as I reached, dry heaving until there was nothing left.

A soft hand landed in the middle of my back causing me to turn around in fright. Don held his hands up showing me he was no harm.

“Sorry, you startled me.” I wiped the back of my hand across my mouth. He stepped forward again but I raised my arm out keeping him at a distance.

“Just let my panic attack finish and then you can touch me.” I begged, I hated that I had to push him away but I feared if anyone was to touch me at that moment it would trigger another episode.

I knelt to the ground gracelessly, my jelly-like limbs not leaving much support. My shook with such vigour it chattered my teeth, my breaths were shallow and fast, as the waves of nausea made my head spin.

Panic attacks weren’t uncommon for me, but I hadn’t had one this bad since my mum died. After she passed I had at least one a day for years. With some anti-anxiety meds and some therapy they finally died down.

I practised my grounding techniques, focusing on slowing my breathing and distracting myself with my surroundings.

“What can I do?” Don asked cautiously as he sat at my side.

“Talk to me, tell me a story.” I said in between my breaths.

“I will tell you about this girl I met-”

I peeked out of the corner of my eye and a confused look pinched my brow. Don chuckled.

“Just listen before you get upset.” Don looked over at me, his charming smile shining through the darkness that clouded my mind, a simple gesture eased the pain slightly in my chest. I nodded confirming for him to go on.

“I met this girl on a tank. She sat up front looking nervous and a bit shell shocked, and for some reason I just wanted to make her feel better. So I asked her where she was from, just to distract her, but I also wanted to see her face clearly in the daylight.”

New tears welled in my eyes, but it wasn’t from the horrific events prior. He was telling me about the day we met. Right from the start he had only wanted to care for me, he didn’t even know me.

“We talked for a bit before all hell broke loose, I was kind of in a daze after I had spoken to her. The way she smiled and laughed at my jokes, that’s all I wanted to make her do, smile.”

I was so focused on his soft voice I forgot completely about the panic that had been strangling me from the inside. I felt my muscles relax and my heartbeat steady.

“Then we were tossed into battle, she had been ordered to hang back and pick up the strays, but then all of a sudden she was in front of me tending to my best friend. She wasn’t the nervous girl I had met on the tank, she was a force to be reckoned with.”

“Don.” I whispered.

“Yeah?” He paused his story, turning to look at me.

“Thank you.” Reaching out I took his hand that rested on the gravel we sat on. We sat silently, our hands intertwined looking up at the stars in the sky, his fingers brushing over the back of my hand in a soothing manner.

“Em.” He breathed, I glanced over to him, his brown eyes glazed over as tears brimmed.

I shifted forward, kneeling beside him as I took him into my embrace. His arms wrapped around my back as he held me tightly, burying his face into the crook of my neck. Don’s body shuddered as he wept, my fingers tangled into his hair as I pressed kisses to the side of his head.

“I’m ok, Don. I’m ok.” I soothed him.

“I could’ve lost you.” He pulled back, his wet tears stained his soft checks. Don’s eyes held so much sadness it broke my heart.

“What would I do without you?” The comment made me think of my decision that loomed over my head. Was I staying or was I going if the time came.

“I’m here, I’m safe. You have me.” I squeezed him tighter as he sniffed, his hand stroking down my back.

“I’ll let the guys know you’re safe and then let’s get you to Doc.” He pulled away, letting me dry his tears with my fingers. I bent down pressing the softest kiss to his lips.

Don’s POV:

I stopped in my tracks, trying not to run into the person who appeared in front of me. My heart almost burst from relief as I took in her face. She wore a blank expression, her cheek cut open and bruised, blood had stained the side of her face, but there were tear streaks that ran through the crimson.

She gave me her tight lipped I’m-ok smile, which almost always meant she was not ok. I could tell she wasn’t ok just from her eyes. They looked haunted and lifeless. Em’s eyes usually sparkled with joy and light, now that light had been put out, and it killed me.

“Em.” Her name fell from my lips with ease. I stepped forward slowly, like she was a scared kitten so skittish one false move would send her under the table.

“Hi.” Her voice was hoarse. Her eyes searched mine, even from here I could see the horror of what they had endured. Web startled all of us, when he yelled her name, running towards her.

The look of pure panic etched into her features. That moronic idiot didn't even notice until it was too late. She clung to the table, her body shaking as she gagged. Em’s face paled, her pupils were so big you would think her eyes were black.

The “no” that wretched itself free from her lips was haunting on its own. But paired with the way she had shaken her head so furiously trying to get her point across, crushed my heart right there in my chest.

She didn’t feel safe.

Web stopped, finally taking in her demeanour. But it was too late, she was already out the door quicker than anyone could yell for her to stop.

Eyes fell on me, but I was already marching out the door, sending a glare over my shoulder in Web’s direction.

I came outside to find her kneeling on the ground, her body heaved as she vomited.

Em asked me to distract her, the only thing that came into my head is the first day we properly met. She had sat right on the front of the tank, nervously taking away to Bull, who had been distracted. I watched her realise that he wasn’t listening and let her conversation die on her tongue.

She nervously shook her leg, even from behind I could see her shoulders were tense as she tried to find anything to distract her. So I had, it was more for selfish reasons really. I wanted to be the one she nervously rambled too, not Bull.

The whole tank ride we had spoken to each other, she talked so animatedly, her bright blue eyes shining in the warm sun and her rosy cheeks that flushed when I told her jokes. Em was the most beautiful person I had ever seen, inside and out. I think I had fallen in love with her then.

But then I got closer to her, she made friends with my friends and I found she was the only thing that I could think of, day and night, it was only ever her.

But I hadn’t told her all of that. I couldn't form the words.

I sat beside her until she had declared it was over. Pain still haunted her eyes. I was losing her again. I had just gotten her back. I couldn’t lose her. I needed her. I don’t think she even knew the impact she had on me.

I remembered one night when she woke screaming from her nightmares, she said she had felt selfish. I dismissed her idea immediately. Never had she ever been selfish, she gave everything to me, she leaned on me when she needed and I did the same with her.

I’m sure she didn’t even notice when she was doing it. Her small jokes, the way she touched me gently, her look of concern and care, the way her eyes found mine in every room she walked into. We looked after each other from the very start.

Em was a light in the darkness. But even sunshine could be covered by clouds.

I told her I would inform the men she was safe and then take her to get treated for her injuries. I’m sure they had questions, we all did. But she would tell us with time. We wouldn’t push her.

**************************************

Chapter 40

#ok i know I said I was gonna get justice #but I can't make speirs do that #that's not what Em would want #band of brothers #hbo war #donald malarkey #easy company #emily lane #Emarkey #band of brothers fanfic #dick winters #ronald speirs #lewis nixon #babe heffron #joe liebgott #johnny martin #bull randleman

29 notes · View notes

nightingale-ghost-writer · 1 year

Text

Convallaria Majalis [Alex Keller x Fem!Reader]

Summary: Trusting people is hard, especially when they’ve let you down so horribly before. But you trust Kate, and Kate trusts Alex. And trusting Alex? Well that might just change your entire life.

Author’s Notes: I put a lot of thought and time into the title of this one, and finally settled on Convallaria Majalis- Lily of the Valley. In the language of flowers, they mean “the return of happiness”. The plants themselves have extensive underground root systems that spread quickly, unnoticed, and can easily overtake a large area and other plants with little to no indication it’s happening until it’s happened. That also happened with this story. What I’d planned on being a ~10K fic has become a whopping 19.2 words… I can’t say I’m sorry. I hope that theme carries through what I’ve written, and I hope all of you who read it enjoy the reading as much as I enjoyed the writing. Lastly, a big shout to @chaoskrakenuwu for proofreading this for me, and the whole Uselss discord for your anticipation and encouragement. Love you all. ❤️

Disclaimer: I do not own any characters or events from Modern Warfare

Warnings: language, canon-typical violence, suggestive content, drug usage, attempted date-rape (NOTHING graphic or explicit, implied more than stated)

It was a beautiful, sunny, colorful Virginia afternoon, just like every other you’d had so far this week. The weather was just warm enough to heat your skin in the sun, just cool enough to feel chilly in the shade. You’d brought a smart-looking blazer along that morning, just in case, but it was slung across your messenger bag, unneeded in the balmy weather. You’d stopped by your favorite coffee stand on your lunch break, let yourself be flirted with by the teenaged barista, and now walked briskly into Langley, swirling your iced espresso as you went. Your heels clicked on the tiled floor, echoing through the near-sterile hallway. You smiled and nodded at your colleagues as you went, stopping just short of the elevators when you heard your name.

You turned to see Kate Laswell half jogging down the hall to catch you up. “What are you working on right now?”

All traces of your smile dropped at her serious tone. “Coding. Why do you ask?”

“Hand it off, you’re coming with me. I need you on the ground.” She flashed you an apologetic look. “I need someone I can trust.”

Your spine straightened, field training falling over you like a sheet. “Yes ma’am.”

Kate had already hustled past you, but threw a smirk over her shoulder. “None of that ‘ma’am’ shit, Trip. You know my name.” She waved a hand over her head, calling back “Twenty minutes to brief!”

You didn’t bother answering her, punching the button for the fifteenth floor. You rolled your shoulders back, taking in a deep breath. You’d been off the field for nearly a year, after almost losing an arm in a firefight. Physical therapy had lasted for months, and trauma therapy for months after that. You’d been working out of the main Langley offices, mostly programming, while you healed. You couldn’t deny that you were itching to be back on the ground. But you hadn’t been expecting to be pulled by Kate Laswell of all people.

The elevator couldn’t move fast enough, your tapping foot the only evidence of your growing impatience. When you reached your floor, your director met you at the elevator.

“Kate find you yet?” You nodded. He grunted irritably. “Why on Earth she felt she needed you specifically is beyond me, but I wish she could’ve found someone else.” Harsh as he sounded, you took his words for what they were- disappointment at losing one of his best assets.

“Don’t worry, sir. I’ll be back before you know it.” A look passed over his face that you couldn’t quite name. Wariness? Resignation?

After a moment, he shook his head. “I hope so,” he muttered. Then he turned his back to you, stalking down the hall to his office. Something about this whole thing seemed off, but you couldn’t focus on that right now. You watched him go for a moment before shrugging the whole odd encounter off and making a beeline for your desk.

There, you logged into your desktop to forward the files you’d been working on and to set an automatic response on your emails before pulling your locker out from its place beneath your desk. The tiny key felt both foreign and familiar as you turned it for the first time since your injury.

You took a deep breath, then swung open the locker. In it were all of the pieces of your old life, your real life; your tactical vest and black fatigues, a black bodysuit, wigs, changes of clothes, a duffle, and, nestled into the side pouch, your beloved Sig Sauer P228.

You yanked the duffel out and open, shoving most of the clothes into it along with your tac vest. Then you pulled out the black leather shoulder holster you’d worn every day for four years, stroking the pliable material fondly. You donned it, tightened the straps, and pulled your blazer over it before holstering your gun. You hefted your duffel and took one last look around the office, wondering absentmindedly when, if, you’d be back. Then you marched for the elevator, scanning your badge to access the basement level where Kate set up shop when she worked out of Langley.

Ten minutes ago, when you’d spoken with her, you didn’t have access. Now you did. She worked fast, you’d give her that.

The doors slid open, silent as ever, and you clicked into Kate’s lair.

The room was dark, cold, and quiet. Servers and bookshelves lined the walkway, directing you to a large table scattered with documents and folders. A single laptop cast a soft glow on the corkboard behind it. Just as you reached the table, a low voice startled you out of your focus.

“Who are you?” You whipped around, coming nose to… well, chin, with someone. You tilted your head, looking up to meet a pair of cold, grey-blue eyes. The man glaring down at you had a handsome, chiseled face, visible even under his overgrown goatee and beard. In the low light, you couldn’t quite tell what color his tousled hair was- blond, maybe? Or a light brown?

He shifted, leaning back on his heels and crossing his heavily tattooed arms across his broad chest as he towered over you. He tilted his head, sizing you up, just as you were him. He’d sure be pretty, if not for that scowl.

Before you could answer him, Kate’s voice cut in. “She’s your new partner, Alex. Introduce yourself, and play nice.”

Alex’s brows shot up, stance relaxing immediately. He looked back to you, curiosity replacing the mistrust in his eyes. You reached toward him and offered your name. When his hand clasped yours, it dwarfed you- his fingers nearly touched his palm.

“Alex Keller,” he replied. You could tell he was deliberately keeping a looser grip than he would normally use, and you squeezed hard once. That made him grin, and he tightened his grip incrementally before releasing you to turn toward Kate. “Now Kate, what’s all this about? You know I was this close to finding those guns.” He held his thumb and forefinger together in front of him, making Kate roll her eyes.

“Yes, well, Trip was busy too. But I have a delicate assignment and I need people I can trust.” She leveled you both with a look. “This is highly sensitive, top secret, all that bullshit. Do you both understand?”

You nodded, standing up straighter, and saw Alex do the same in your peripheral vision.

“Station Chief Harding has come under recent suspicion for drug trafficking.” You and Alex shared a startled glance. A CIA station chief? “We believe he’s using a club in Amsterdam as his cover. As I’m sure you both know, if Dutch officials were to find him in possession, it could jeopardize our operations there.”

“Ma’am, I don’t mean to question orders,” said Alex. He paused, only continuing when Kate nodded to him. “Shouldn’t the teams in Amsterdam be the ones looking into this?”

“No. I need people that Harding won’t recognize. I hand picked both of you for this one. I trust in your abilities to work without supervision, and to be discreet.” Kate held Alex’s gaze, nodding toward you. “And I’m trusting you to protect her.” Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Alex bend in your direction. He was still facing Kate, but he seemed to lean involuntarily toward you. Your own posture shifted, your hands coming up to rest on your elbows as you shuffled your feet.

“Protect me?”

When Kate looked toward you, she didn’t look happy. “You’re going in as one of the… workers at the club.” She paused, letting her words sink in. Your heartbeat slowed before kicking back into gear at twice the pace. Alex was watching you carefully, brow furrowed. He hadn’t put it together yet. But Kate had read the look on your face before you had even realized it was there. She reached out, laying one hand on your forearm and one on Alex’s bicep. “I wouldn’t send you in if I didn’t think you could do it. And Alex is the best man for this job. He will not let anything happen to you, okay?”

“Kate?” Alex’s open face had closed off somewhat, suspicion lacing his lips and his words. “What am I protecting her from? What’s going on?”

“I’m going in as a waitress in a strip club.” Kate shook her head, looking ready to protest. “Dance club. Whatever.” Alex’s head snapped in your direction, mouth falling open in silent protest. You spoke again before he could interject. “And you’re going to make sure Harding and his men don’t kill me if he finds out.”

There was an awful beat of silence before Alex wrenched his arm out from under from Kate’s touch, sputtering in indignance. “Now hold on-” he began. But you couldn’t hear him. A cacophonous tunnel of white noise had enveloped you while he argued with Kate; all you could hear were the voices of the last pair of agents who had been assigned guard duty for a mission like this, back when it had been a strip club.

“We could do better without her,”, “It’s not like she’s in any real danger,”, “You really expect us to babysit a girl in a strip club when we could be accomplishing something real?” You’d heard it all before, the night you’d returned to base with your arm limp and nearly detached at your side. Those two had blown into the back room, overconfident and uncaring. The target had pulled out a knife that “miraculously” made it past the club’s security and nearly cut your arm off before your partners killed him.

It hadn’t been Kate’s mission. When she’d found out, she’d summarily fired both of the agents and the special agent in charge. That knowledge did little to ease your anxiety. You trust her you told yourself.

You vaguely heard her, calmly explaining that Harding was well known for surrounding himself with scantily clad young women, both on and off duty. “It’s the easiest thing to exploit!” Everything sounded muffled, as though you were underwater.

“You can’t put her in a direct line of fire just because it’s easy! We have to figure something else out!” Alex’s roaring yanked you back to reality. You turned to look at him, then- to really look at him. His chest rose and fell quickly, eyes glinting and jaw set. One hand reached protectively out and back toward you. Somehow in the midst of the conversation, he’d angled himself between you and Kate. You wondered if he’d even noticed. And in that moment, that singular subconscious gesture, and his vehement opposition to the plan, you saw why Kate had chosen you both, why she felt confident enough to ask you to walk back into the fire. A seed burrowed under your skin, into your chest, latching onto the side of your heart.

Gently, you laid a hand on his shoulder. He seemed to unwind beneath your fingertips, tension sapping out of his muscles. He turned his head, pursing his lips as though about to speak. “I’ll do it,” you said. He froze, eyes scanning your features. Whatever he was looking for, he found. He nodded once, sharply, and lowered his hand as he turned away from you both.

“Fine.” There was a resignation in his voice that made your heart clench. Kate let out a silent sigh of relief, meeting your gaze. You nodded at her. She turned to the table behind her, picking up two case files and extending one to each of you.

“Your flight leaves in two hours.” With two quick “yes ma’am”s, you and Alex moved for the door. He darted forward, holding it open for you and not quite meeting your eyes. You murmured a quiet thanks and scurried through, turning to hold the elevator door open for him when you stepped in. He ducked his head in thanks, pressing the button for the ground floor and retreating to the far side of the elevator.

Neither of you spoke a word, not even looking at each other until the door opened and he waved a hand for you to go first. You did, exchanging small smiles, and then went your separate ways. You turned as you reached the front doors, catching just a glimpse of his puzzled face as he examined you from the garage before disappearing into it.

There was a certain disappointment in leaving behind your duffel. You laid it reverently on the shelf in your closet, stroking the side of it and tucking your handgun back inside. You felt vulnerable, leaving it all at home. But there was no place for anything in it on this mission.

In the two hours you’d been given, you managed to walk home and pack a different suitcase with a wide variety of clothes, get a cab, and make it through airport security. You arrived at the gate just as they announced early boarding, catching a glimpse of a tall head of ashy hair stepping through the bridge. You walked to the counter, scanned your ticket, and smiled at the girl who thanked you for your service. You kept your eyes down as you walked, shuffling through the narrow space. You only raised them when someone stood from their seat, dark boots blocking your way.

You’d changed into sneakers and without your heels, your eyes barely came to Alex’s shoulders. He smiled lopsidedly, offering you a hand. “Take your bag?” he asked. His voice was low and smooth, just a hint of gravel in it. You unslung your backpack, handing it to him with a grateful smile. He reached up to stow it in the overhead compartment and your eyes fixed on the rippling muscles of his arms. Pretty, indeed. “You can take the window seat if you want,” he said.

You slid between his lithe body and the seat, not giving him any opportunity to rescind his offer. He chuckled as he lowered himself into the aisle seat, giving you an amused look.

You shrugged. “You offered.”

“I did.” His eyes sparkled as he quickly looked you up and down. You allowed yourself a glance over him, as well. In the brightly lit airplane, you could see him much more clearly. His hair was an ashy brown, just as mussed as when you’d first seen him, with a wavy pair of cuts in the side you weren’t sure were intentional. His skin was tan, even under the line work covering his arms from the wrists up, and his face was lightly freckled. And his eyes, locked on you, were the stormy, slate grey of the roiling ocean, just a hint of blue in their depths.

You’d also looked him up, in your brief trip home.

His entire file had been redacted. So, you dug deeper as quickly as you could to find his file from before. Most of that file had been redacted, too. There had been single visible words scattered throughout the pages you skimmed. Efficient. Intentional. Empathetic. Cautious. And beneath his file photo, taken with the same ridiculous houndstooth scarf he’d worn both when you met him and now, a lone, lonely squad designation. Delta.

You blinked back to the present, zeroing in on his raised eyebrows. You blushed, having been caught staring, and turned to face the window. “So how long have you been doing this?” you asked. Alex took so long to answer that you looked up, only to find him turning his head away. Almost as though he’d been staring, too.

He cleared his throat. “‘Bout ten years now. What about you?”

“Depends.” He cocked his head, studying you. “I worked in the field for four years before they made me a desk jockey. And I was in the Navy for a couple of years before that.”

A look of pride crossed Alex’s face. “No kidding. Army. Six years.”

You smiled wide, turning to better face him in the narrow seat. “I have a feeling we’ll get along just fine.

A quiet dinging noise roused you from your dozing. You shuffled a bit, turning into your pillow, until it moved.

Your eyes flew open, head snapping up.

Your cheeks burned when you realized you must have fallen asleep on Alex’s shoulder. You’d both talked about your time with the military, being snatched up by the CIA, and what you did now- all in hushed tones, of course. You’d leaned together, foreheads nearly touching, and whispered stories to each other for several hours until you’d convinced him to try to sleep. He’d spent the last 24 hours flying to DC from the Middle East, and now he was back on a plane to Europe.

You registered mild surprise that you’d fallen asleep, yourself. You’d been tired, but sleeping on planes had never come easy to you. Not to mention your trust issues. You seldom so much as rested your eyes around new people.

He was still sleeping now, head angled toward you and arms crossed over his chest. The dark circles you’d noticed under his eyes hadn’t lightened yet, but you knew they would take time to fade. His chest rose and fell slowly, lips twitching slightly under the curled ends of his comically large mustache. You heaved a sigh, looking up to see what had woken you. As you did, the pilot announced your descent into Amsterdam. The glowing seatbelt sign accounted for the sound you’d heard. You fastened your seatbelt, then glanced at Alex’s lap, hoping his would be on, too.

It wasn’t.

Gingerly, you reached around him, lifting the fallen belt from the side of his seat. Just as you clicked the two pieces into place, Alex’s hands shot out and gripped your wrists like vices. You froze, looking up at him as he stared through you in a haze. His eyes darted across your face before he seemed to recognize his surroundings, recognize you, and his hold loosened.

His eyes flicked down to his hands on you and he recoiled, horror sweeping over his handsome face. “‘M sorry,” he breathed. He sat up straight, wriggling away from you, hands suspended halfway between you both where they seemed to reach for you, but clasped nothing. “Did I hurt you?”

“I’m fine,” you said quickly. Panic laced his voice in equal parts with the rasp of sleep, and his eyes flew over your arms as though he didn’t believe you. Cautiously, you reached for him, laying a hand on his forearm. You lowered your head, barely succeeding in catching his frantic gaze. “You didn’t hurt me.” He swallowed hard, nodded, and scrubbed his hands down his face slowly.

“We’re landing?” he asked.

“Mhmm.” You turned your back, leaning toward the window to give Alex a moment to collect himself. It didn’t take long for him to lean forward in an attempt to see around you. You glanced at him, offering a smile that he returned tiredly. “I always love looking at the lights. They’re so pretty.”

He said nothing, but you could feel his stare heavy on your face. You said nothing else to each other as the plane landed. Alex stood as soon as the seatbelt light flashed off, reaching up to pull down his duffel and your backpack. Rather than hand it to you, though, he slung it over his own shoulder, holding a hand out to gesture you forward.

“After you,” he said.

You arched an eyebrow as you passed. “Such a gentleman.” The only response you got to that was a low chuckle.

You were able to get your bags, a cab, and to the safehouse within the next hour, punching in the door code and flipping on the lights. The house was narrow, but far deeper than you’d expected. The kitchen was stocked with various MREs and canned goods, a large office tucked behind it. When you both trudged up the stairs, you found a library and a fully stocked weapons room.

You squealed about the Dutch classics you found, while Alex lamented his general illiteracy of the language. When you offered to read to him, he gave you the softest look you thought you might have ever seen. You moved to the weapons room, taking your time admiring the stash, murmuring to each other about your favorite guns and attachments, before moving up to the third story in search of bedrooms. There were two, side by side with a bathroom and tiny loft on the other side of the long hall.

“I’ll take this one,” said Alex, moving to the first door. He shrugged at your curious look. “Closer to the stairs.”

You gawked, moved by his thoughtfulness. That seed burst, spreading roots in your veins and the cavity between your ribs. Alex shifted uncomfortably under your stare, mumbling that you could have that room if you really wanted it. You shook your head.

“I see why Laswell likes you,” you said. A brief shock flashed in his eyes before he carefully schooled his face, shrugging again.

“I like to think I’m alright,” he quipped.

Acting on a rush of boldness you’d later explain away as getting into character, you deliberately looked him up and down, basking in the blush you could see rising on his cheeks. “More than alright.”

You sauntered into your room, withholding a giggle at the choked noise Alex made as you went.

“You go ahead and shower. I’ll get started on our case file,” you called. If Alex answered, you didn’t hear. But when you finished unpacking and walked into the hall, the shower was running and the bathroom door was shut.

You walked downstairs, pausing in the kitchen and debating on dinner. You weren’t really hungry, but was Alex? You’d find out when he came down. You stepped into the office, planting yourself in the desk chair and booting up the computer. Once you had it open, you considered trying to dig a little deeper into your teammate. You strained your ears; you could still hear the water running. You had at least a couple of minutes, more time than you’d need.

But something stopped you. You weren’t sure if it was a sense of owing him, or general guilt for snooping. Or maybe the hope that he’d tell you himself, someday. Either way, you opted to open the encrypted files Kate had sent instead. You were scanning everything she had on Harding when you heard Alex come down the stairs. For such a large man, he walked remarkably quietly. However, the floorboards’ soft squeaking gave him away as he stepped into the doorway.

“Looks like the club manager is one of Kate’s contacts,” you mumbled. Your chin rested in your hand, muffling your speech. “Though how, I’m not-” You turned then and promptly lost your train of thought.

Alex stood in the doorway in a grey t-shirt and a dark pair of sweats, barefoot and still damp. His hair shone, sticking up at odd angles, and the t-shirt stuck to his sculpted chest in all the most delicious places. If he noticed that you hadn’t finished your sentence, he gave no indication. He was squinting at the computer screen, leaned slightly forward.

“Hmm, seems like your run of the mill manager at least.” You were grateful that he didn’t seem to notice your fixation on his muscles, his own eyes fixed on the screen. He’d taken the few steps into the office in order to lean over your shoulder, one hand resting on the desk. You could feel the heat radiating from his chest to your back, and you took a shaky breath. You watched him scan the file out of the corner of your eye, then a grimace crossed his face. He leaned back, crossing his arms over his chest, and you felt suddenly freezing from the loss.

“You sure you’re okay with this?”

You turned the chair, pulling your feet up and wrapping your arms around your knees. Alex was studying you, scowling as he did. He seemed to zero in on the scars beneath the sleeve of your t-shirt. You pulled on it reflexively, regardless of the fact that the sleeve wouldn’t cover anything, and watched as a guilty look crossed his face.

“I’m okay with it.”

“What happened to your arm?”

“The last guys who ran an op like this with me didn’t take it as seriously as you seem to.” Alex flinched, arms falling to his sides. His expressive eyebrows shot up, then lowered again. That adorable little furrow between them surfaced while his lips worked silently, seeming not to find the words he wanted. “I got caught because they didn’t stick to the plan. They thought they knew better. I nearly had my arm cut off.” You lifted it, showing him the straight, vertical incision scar that ran from elbow to bicep from the surgery to repair the breaks in the bone. A patch of raised, much more ragged scarring ran horizontally on the outside where the knife had torn through your flesh.

Alex’s expression was pained as he examined it, eyes finally lifting to yours. “I’m not going to let anything happen to you.” His voice was low and determined. He was still frowning, but there was a softness to it. “Okay?”

You nodded, lowering your arm to wrap around your legs again. “Okay.” You watched each other for a long time, tilting heads one way and the other as you took each other in. Finally, Alex cocked his head over his shoulder.

“C’mon, let’s get something to eat.”

You were woken the next morning by a gentle rapping on your door. When you opened it, bleary-eyed and somewhat unsteady, you found an equally groggy Alex on the other side.

“‘M gonna take a run, wanna come with?”

You nodded, yawning. “Give me five?”

He nodded, shuffling to the loft and rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

You brushed your teeth and picked up a light sweater, pulling a baseball cap over your hair, and slouched into the hall. There was a murmured agreement to find coffee as you locked the safehouse, and then you were off.

The run was mostly quiet, silence broken only by the sounds of your breaths in the crisp morning air and birds twittering from the tree lines. It was comfortable. By the time you found a nice coffeehouse, taking cups out to sit at a little table on the sidewalk, you both seemed to have woken up.

“I was thinking,” began Alex.

“Sounds dangerous,” you quipped. His answering playful glare made your heart skip a beat.

“How early do you have to get to the club?” he asked.

“Eight o’clock.” When you’d opened the wardrobe in your room the night before, you’d found several “uniforms”, complete with weaponized jewelry and heels, and a slip of paper with a time and door codes. You’d glared at the outfits, hummed appreciatively at the cleverly hidden blades and USB drive, and memorized the door codes before tearing up the paper and flushing it down the toilet.

Alex hesitated. He watched his coffee as he swirled it slowly.

“You need to show up separately from me,” you said. He breathed out, nodding. “I’ll be fine.”

He looked up, unconvinced. “I have done this before, you know,” you teased. His gaze flicked quickly to and from your arm as he forced a smile.

“I know. I just don’t like the idea of letting you out of my sight.”

Your heart warmed at that, and you reached out to lay your hand on his. “It’ll be okay.”

There was some more quiet discussion about how you’d both get in and what exactly you had planned once you infiltrated Harding’s space, and then it was back to the safehouse. You both poured over all of the files Kate had sent, studying the blueprints and quizzing each other on them, and then walked to the market for lunch.

You’d found familiar foods- potatoes, hearty vegetables, and a roast small enough for two- and made your way back to the safehouse to cook. Alex had cut the vegetables while you’d seasoned the roast, finally putting it all together in a large pyrex pan to bake. As you straightened up from closing the oven, Alex asked “So how’d you get your name? ‘Trip’?”

And as though the fates had written it, you’d turned to answer him only to slip on the water you’d dripped just before when you’d washed your hands. Your arms windmilled out as you tilted backward. Before you could fall, Alex’s strong hands gripped you, one wrapping around your waist and one sliding up your spine to rest on the back of your head. He’d leapt forward, feet planted firmly on either side of you as he pulled you forward. When your chest bumped his, you looked up at him breathlessly. He hadn’t let go of you yet.

“Pretty much just like that.”

He barked a laugh, releasing his hold on you almost reluctantly. “Just like that?” “Well, no. I fell the first time.” He laughed again while you regaled him with tales of your legendary clumsiness, embellishing anything you could to make the stories even funnier than they already were.

You retreated to the library, making good on your promise to read the Dutch classics aloud as Alex listened with rapt attention. After several chapters, you paused and turned to him. He’d stretched out along the coach by the window, head pillowed on his arm. The midday sun filtered through the warped panes, casting him in a soft glow that turned his hair to honey and his eyes to the clear blue of a still lake. His eyes were fixed on you. They had been since you’d started reading and, even as the sunlight and his exhausted body tried to pull him away to sleep, they kept him tethered to wakefulness.

“Do you understand any of what I’m reading?”

“Not a word.” Your giggle made him smile.

“Why don’t you take a nap? I’ll wake you when the food’s done.” When he looked like he might protest, you tilted your head at him. “Can you honestly tell me jet lag isn’t kicking your ass right now?”

“No,” he grumbled, relenting and turning onto his back. He raised his free arm, draping it across his eyes. “What about you?”

“I’m not tired. I’m going to read.” He lowered his arm, just a bit, giving you a sidelong glance. “I haven’t flown halfway around the world and back this week,” you singsonged. Alex grunted before lowering his arm across his eyes again.

“Just… don’t let me sleep too long,” he murmured. You hummed in acknowledgement, turning your attention back to your book. You read for some time before standing, stretching, and padding up the stairs to the bathroom. You had just enough time to do your makeup before the timer in the kitchen pinged. When you peeked into the library, Alex had turned in his sleep to face the doorway. The arm that had lay across his eyes now draped across his body, nearly hanging over the side of the couch.

You called his name softly. He stirred, but didn’t open his eyes. You called him again, and he turned his face.

“Alex.” The third time you called him, his eyes snapped open. He turned his head, eyebrows raising as he took in your heavy makeup. You’d lined your eyes with black kohl, brushed on a smoky eye and three layers of mascara, and filled in your brows. You were sure you looked like a different person altogether.

He sat up, scrubbing a hand down his face. “You look great,” he rasped.

“Thanks. Dinner’s ready, you coming down?” He nodded, stretching and yawning.

“Be right there.”

You walked downstairs and were halfway through plating the food when Alex shuffled into the kitchen. You handed him a plate and gestured toward the small table in the corner. The calm quiet of the afternoon had turned foreboding and you both ate in silence. Alex offered to clean up when you were done, so you went back upstairs to get dressed. You felt tense as you did, apprehension tightening your muscles and lungs.

The “uniform” was a black fishnet body suit, skin-tight black minidress, and a pair of pumps with a two-inch platform and a six-inch heel. The only part you didn’t mind was the jewelry- a glittering silver spiked necklace and matching bracelet that you could pull pins out of as weapons if you needed to. The finishing touch was a silver ring housing a miniscule USB drive that you’d programmed yourself; once plugged in, it would copy an entire hard drive in less than five minutes. You were proud of that one.

You pulled it all on, glared at your reflection in the mirror, and applied a coat of cherry red lipstick before stalking out of your room and down the stairs. Alex stood in the entryway, fastening cufflinks in a smart black button down.

It would seem that the man’s back side was just as attractive as his front.

As he heard you come down, he looked up, body going completely still as he looked you slowly head to toe. You felt suddenly self-conscious under his scrutiny. The dress sported a plunging neckline, putting your cleavage on full display, and barely covered your ass. You were grateful that the fishnet bodysuit was solid black around your hips, offering you some tiny slip of modesty.

Alex looked incredibly handsome, himself. He wore a fitted black shirt, complete with a matching tie and vest. It all strained across the hard muscles of his upper body, matching the black slacks that hugged his thighs and a rounded, firm-looking ass. The jacket hung on a peg by the door, ready for him at a moment’s notice. His unruly hair looked as though he might have tried to style it, but it had sprung back to its tousled state of being. His mustache, however, had been waxed into perfect curls at the ends.

He swallowed, hard, and let out a low whistle. His pupils had blown wide, nearly eclipsing the darkened blue of his irises. “You look…” He gestured up and down, clearly coming up empty on compliments.

“Like a cheap whore?”

“No,” he snapped. His lip twitched, mustache trembling with the movement. He reached a hand forward, which you took gratefully as you descended the final few steps. The outrageous heels brought you nearly eye to eye with him, though still not quite. He looked directly at you. “You look stunning. Harding’s a madman if he doesn’t want you as soon as he lays eyes on you.”

The statement sent a shiver through you. It simultaneously ignited a fire low in your belly and a chill at the base of your spine. Alex felt it, and squeezed your hand. “But he can’t have you,” he said lowly. “I won’t let him touch you.” You offered him a shaky smile, trying to control your breathing. You considered asking whether that meant he was a madman, or that he wanted you. But there was no need for that. The heat from that particular question would keep you warm all night.

“So,” you started instead. “I look like an overpriced whore, then?”

Alex groaned, rolling his eyes and shaking you gently. “No, you do not look like a… a…” The blush that flamed up over his cheeks was so endearing that you couldn’t help reaching out to touch his cheek as you chuckled. “You just look gorgeous,” he said softly. The roots between your ribs spread out, twining more tightly into your bones and reaching toward the flesh of your chest.

You smiled. “Thank you.” Your smile faltered as you reached forward, straightening his perfectly straight collar nervously. “You sure you’re going to be able to do this?”

Alex blinked in surprise. “Me? Shouldn’t I be asking you?”

You shook your head, still looking down. “No, you. I know you don’t like the plan, but… it’s a good plan. Are you going to be able to go along with it?” Alex made a confused sound. You looked up at him. “Are you going to be able to you fit in with the men there? Act like you own me, if I need you to get me out?”

Anger churned in his eyes at that. “If it’s going to keep you safe, then… yes.”

“It will,” you whispered.

As you dropped your hands, Alex’s surged up to clasp them. “Just… so long as you know that… that’s not me.”

“I know,” you said, and you were startled by how much you meant it. A sharp honk let you know that your taxi had arrived. You squeezed his hands. “I’ll see you soon?”

“One more thing.” Alex turned to the side table in the entryway, sliding open the drawer and pulling out what looked like a glittering, silver spiked ear cuff. He turned it so that you could see a cleverly concealed earpiece on the back side. He reached up, hesitating with his hands near your ear as though asking permission. You didn’t move and, ever so gently, he reached up and brushed a lock of hair away from your ear. He fiddled with the cuff until the earpiece sat just behind your earlobe. “Okay?”

“Yeah.” Your throat felt suddenly dry, voice coming out in a whisper. He was close enough to touch, close enough to kiss if you wanted to. And you wanted to. But you pulled back, smiling a fake-bright smile, and backed toward the door. “I’ll see you soon!”

Alex leapt forward, opening the door for you. “See you soon,” he echoed. You made your way down the stairs, only turning to look back at the door when you lowered yourself into the cab and murmured the club’s address to the cabbie. Alex stood in the doorway, silhouetted in the light of the hall, until the house’s facade was no longer visible. You let out a long breath, wondering what might happen if circumstances were different.

But there was no time for that. The club was only a few minutes away from the safehouse. You made some final adjustments to your dress, trying in vain to pull it down, before resigning yourself to the lamentable length. Or lack thereof. You took a deep breath, steeling yourself as the cab pulled to the curb. You thanked the cabbie, tipped him, and lifted yourself out of the back seat.

You knew there was a door set into the side of the building that led into the bar storeroom and prep kitchen. Laswell had gotten pictures of you and Alex to your contact, Luca; he knew to expect you, and what you were doing. Much to everyone’s chagrin, though, he had stressed to Kate that he would not and could not afford to acknowledge either of you. Whatever you did, it had to fly under his security’s radar. If you were to be caught, he’d have no link to you, or the CIA.

Typical.

You punched in the door code you’d memorized, holding your breath for the second it took to beep and open. When it did, you slid into the building, the clicking of your heels buried under the pounding bass as you made your way through the prep kitchen. You could hear a young man jabbering away in Dutch as you approached, critiquing the presentation of charcuterie boards and drink trays. He looked up as you approached, eyes roving over you.

“Ah, you’ve finally arrived! Good, good. Mr. Harding and his guests will be here any minute. Let me show you to his preferred room.”

“Bedankt,” you said, and Luca beamed.

“Ah, you know some of our fine language!” he crowed gleefully. He began chattering again, speaking intermittently in Dutch and English as he led you through the private rooms to one at the end of the hall. He opened the door, ushered you in, and then glanced quickly around the room.

“All of Meneer Harding’s business, he conducts from his personal laptop. He will set it there.” He pointed to a narrow shelf that jutted from the wall to cross the wraparound seating built into the sides of the room. “He demands no surveillance in this room and pays handsomely for it. He is very strict.” Luca turned to face you with a deadly serious expression.

“I strongly recommend that you do not try to plant any equipment now. He has a man who will sweep the room prior to his arrival. He is quite thorough.”

“Bedankt, Luca. We appreciate your help.”

He nodded sharply, opening the door and ushering you out with another conspicuous look at your figure as you passed him. “You will bring champagne, charcuterie, and anything else Meneer Harding requests. And if they request nothing, you dance,” he muttered. “Good luck, and Godzijdank.”

While you made your way to the bar, Luca broke off to go to his office. He must have told the bartender to expect you, because he gave you a wary look when you leaned on the bar before handing over what looked like a wristwatch. When you turned it over in your hands, you realized it was a pager. You looked up as you fastened it and the bartender pointed to a tray filled with drinks.

“Booth twelve,” he shouted. You nodded, picking up the tray and turning toward the club. Colorful lights flashed and swept across the floor in time with the throbbing bass pumping through the speakers. Bodies swayed and bounced along, packed together tightly between you and the booths across the dance floor. You straightened your shoulders, lifted the tray above your head, and set off through the throng.

You’d just broken through the bulk of dancers when the door swung wide to reveal Alex, feet planted firmly shoulder-width apart. Your breath stuttered in your lungs. He looked like he belonged here; since you’d left the safehouse, he’d managed to tame his hair. Mostly, at least. It was swept back, but not slicked to his scalp, and several carefully chosen pieces still stood upright. He’d forgone the jacket, and his all-black ensemble helped to blend his broad frame with the surrounding party-goers. His piercing gaze swept the room, landing on you for only a split second before he stalked into the room, heading for the bar.

You managed to keep your feet moving, arriving at the booth and leaning too-far forward with your chest out as you lowered the tray and passed out drinks. The men at the booth whooped, eyeing you appreciatively, but thankfully keeping their hands to themselves as you turned to go back to the bar. Alex stood at the end when you arrived, facing the dance floor. You could feel his gaze heavy on you, but each time you glanced over, he appeared for all the world to be observing the room, bobbing his head lightly along to the music.

Your pager buzzed, the number “06” flashing across the screen, and you picked up another tray of drinks. You delivered them to a table of squealing young girls who shouted that you looked good enough to eat, batted your eyelashes, and sauntered away. You didn’t see any trays when you got back to the bar, and when you looked up at the bartender, he motioned to the floor. “Dance,” he mouthed.

Before you could turn, you felt a warm body press itself to your back. “May I have this dance?” rumbled Alex. His lips brushed your earlobe, sending a shiver down your spine as he laid his hands on your hips. You smiled, a wide and savage smile, turning to take hold of his tie and walk backward toward the dancers, pulling him along as you went. He came willingly, swaying along with you until you were pressed together by the people around you.

You raised your hands to the back of his neck, stroking gently as his hands pulled your hips toward him. He leaned forward, pressing his lips just behind your ear. Any onlooker would think he was whispering sweet nothings or dirty secrets. Instead, he was asking “Any word on Harding?”

You turned your own head, pulling him down just enough that you could say “no” into his ear. His hands tightened involuntarily as you did, and you wondered at the goosebumps you could feel under your fingertips. Had those been there before?

After a too-brief time of dancing, your pager buzzed, flashing a bright “03”, and you grudgingly pulled free of Alex’s hold. He reached out a hand after you, and you let your fingers trail down his arm as you backed away. He watched you go, half amused and half like a lost puppy. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think he wanted to keep you there.

You picked up a tray of drinks, made your way to the booth, delivered while your pager buzzed again, and cycled back. Half an hour of this later, with momentary excursions into the crowd to dance, and your pager flared up again. This time, the screen only flashed light at you. You looked to the door, and there was Harding. He was flanked by two burly men nearly Alex’s height, and easily just as broad. The three of them pushed through the crowds toward the private rooms, and you rushed to the bar. The bartender had already placed a bottle of champagne on a tray, complete with two crystal flutes, and bustled you off the moment you arrived.

You picked up the tray and hurried down the short hall, pausing with your hand on the doorknob before opening it and walking in. Harding looked up, eyes widening almost imperceptibly as you let your hips sway for the three steps it took to get to the low table. You smiled up through your lashes, crouching to set the tray down on the table.

“May I serve your champagne?” you asked in a low, sultry voice.

Harding leaned back, spreading his arms across the back of his seat. “You may.” He watched your every movement as you opened the bottle, giggling as the foam gushed up and over your fingers. You expertly poured a flute, extending it to him as you leaned across the table. As you did, you rested your free hand next to his laptop in an imitation of maintaining balance. You thumbed your ring, working the USB drive free and sliding it into a port on Harding’s laptop surreptitiously.

“May I bring you anything else?” You pulled your shoulders back, exposing more cleavage in a bid to hold his attention long enough that he would miss the popup on his screen. His eyes never left you, traveling slowly down your body before raising themselves back up to your face. You could barely suppress a shudder of disgust. He cocked his head slightly, leaning further back and taking his time to contemplate.

“No,” he finally said. “Not now.”

You nodded, fluttering your eyelashes, and let your hips sway provocatively as you stepped out. When you turned back to the main club, you saw Alex leaning against the bar nearest the door. The moment he saw you, he ran his tongue along his teeth and grinned wolfishly at you. You wondered what he would taste like if it was your tongue instead. You quickly shook the thought free, striding toward him. You murmured out of the corner of your mouth, hoping you could be heard by your earpiece without being seen. “Putting on a show now, are you?”

He unabashedly let his eyes roam down your frame, and you couldn’t stop the shudder you felt now. But there was no disgust in it. You barely caught his tiny nod, but you scanned the room until your attention caught on a man watching you from a booth nearby. He was young, traditionally handsome with tan skin and sun-kissed blonde hair, and well-dressed. His suit probably cost more than your entire wardrobe, and you didn’t even want to know the brand of the gold watch on his wrist. He watched you as you walked, predatory as he sipped some dark liquor from a cut glass tumbler.

Alex reached out as you passed him, standing and pulling you to his chest in one fluid motion. “I’ll put on any show I need to, I don’t like the way that guy’s looking at you.” You let him pull you into the throng, giggling loudly for effect as you pasted a smile on your face.

“My hero,” you whispered. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw the man drain his glass and stalk toward the private rooms. Into your earpiece, you murmured “Can you see which room he’s going to?”

Alex took your hand, pulling back to blatantly admire you in what was probably meant to be a salacious observation on full display for anyone watching the two of you. He lifted your hand, spinning you and then pulling your back to his chest, deftly wrapping a hand around to rest on your abdomen while turning to face the doorway. You just caught sight of the door to Harding’s room swinging shut behind someone. Likely your admirer. You leaned back against Alex’s chest, lacing your fingers behind his neck and tilting your head back to look up at him. He was already looking down at you, the leaden blue of his irises eclipsed by his pupils. Desire. You were seeing your own desire reflected on his face.

You swallowed hard, and then your pager buzzed. Show time.

You peeled yourself from Alex’s body, tracing his reaching arm with a light fingertip and smiling coyly at him through your lashes. You picked up a tray of bottles of expensive, dark liquors- some in crystal decanters to match the cut glass tumblers- and sauntered to the private rooms.

Harding and your admirer were deep in heated conversation when you stepped through the door. Your heart sank when you realized that they weren’t speaking Dutch, but Russian. Your Russian was mediocre at best, and you just hoped Alex’s was a little less rusty. You caught stray words as you sat on your heels to pour drinks, but nothing cohesive passed your ears. All the same, your skin crawled. What little you could make out seemed heavy with slurs and threats, and neither man had become any less angry than they were when you’d arrived. You stood, reaching out to offer a glass to each of them with a wide smile pinned over your rising discomfort.

“Gentlemen,” you purred. “May I bring you anything else?”

The younger man’s hand shot out, wrapping around your wrist lightning fast and dragging you down into his lap. The shriek you let out was real, too real, as your heart stopped. You forced out a slightly manic giggle, trying to play off your anxiety. After all, regardless of circumstance, the action warranted some level of surprise. You just hoped he took it as nothing more than that.

He gripped your chin and turned your head, studying you. You could see him undressing you with his eyes. You were going to be sick.

“I think I have everything I want,” he drawled. You felt a sharp pinch in your arm, looking down in horror to see a needle withdrawing from the crook of your elbow. “Let’s just test this out first. See if it works like you say.” He turned back to Harding as you wrenched your arm, but he only tightened his grip. “Give me the girl for the night and you have a deal.”

“Hey,” you began, and hated how your voice shook. “What the hell was that?”

Your heart leapt into your throat before sinking to your knees. You felt a cold sweat break as white noise overtook every other sound in the room. You snapped back to yourself just as quickly, realizing that you could hear Alex whispering. “I’ve got you. Just hold on, I’ve got you.”

Harding was studying the man who’d dragged you down, cocking his head back and forth. Both men ignored you as you looked between them frantically. “You know that this isn’t a strip club, Sasha. The girls here aren’t under my… jurisdiction.” His face betrayed nothing, as though he hadn’t just watched a man drug some girl in some club. You were definitely going to be sick. “You’d have to talk to the owner.”

Sasha’s lip was curling up in a sneer when a loud crash echoed through the room. You looked up to see Alex lurch in, careening with his hands held out to the sides. You could smell alcohol on him, from all the way across the room. Your heart sank and you squeezed your eyes shut, willing yourself not to cry. You’d let yourself trust him. You thought he’d be different. You hadn’t pictured him getting drunk at all, let alone like this. All your hope oozed out as he swung in a haphazard circle, briefly resting his hand near the laptop before looking blearily around the small room. When his eyes landed on you, a slow grin stretched across his mouth as he raised his hands lazily.

“There she is!” he slurred, stumbling in your direction and wrapping large, warm hands gently around your wrists. He unceremoniously dragged you up, forcing Sasha to let go, and pulled you straight to his chest.

And then he kissed you. Soundly.

Whatever you’d expected, it wasn’t this.

But he didn’t taste like alcohol. Through the haze of confusion and terror and shock, you felt an overwhelming sweep of relief. Your hands involuntarily shot up to cradle his jaw as he attacked your mouth, like a parched man who’d just found water. His hands clutched at your waist, pulling your body to his tightly as he leaned toward you. The kiss was sloppy, far overdone for your audience, a tangle of tongues and teeth, but still it took your breath away. You ran a hand down the side of his neck as you tilted your head, pressing yourself further forward into the safety of his arms. His tie and the collar of his shirt were soaked under your hand. He must have poured a drink on himself to seem more drunk. You gasped, and Alex swallowed it, offering up the tiniest moan in return. The roots shot through the surface of your skin.

You felt tears burn the back of your eyes, hope swell in your lungs. You didn’t know which of you had slowed down first, but the kiss had become tender. With every brush of his lips, you could feel as much as you could hear “I’ve got you I’ve got you I’ve got you”. The flower buds tickled at your chest, begging to push through the soil of your skin into the sunlight that was this man. The inexplicable draw you’d felt to him since that first meeting at Langley, the safety, the trust, it all came flooding up. It wasn’t enough to drown the abject fear you felt in the moment, but it met it head on, keeping it from suffocating you. Holding it at bay.

You heard Harding clear his throat impatiently, and pulled back, giggling. Alex chased you, placing two more feather light kisses at the corner of your mouth. Suddenly, whatever you’d been injected with hit you like a train. The room seemed blurry, and kept spinning even once you knew your head had stopped moving. And your head. It felt so, so heavy. You couldn’t focus, could barely keep your feet under you. You clutched at Alex’s shirt front, willing your body to cooperate. It took you too long to realize that he was speaking, and you knew it more from the rumble under your palm than the sound of his voice. He sounded underwater. Other people were speaking, too. And they sounded underwater.

Then you were moving, half walking and half being carried out of the room and down a hall. It was bright. Too bright. And so loud. You looked at Alex, who was now watching you with a wildness that took you a moment to place. Raw, helpless panic. “Sweetheart?” he was saying, but the word sounded funny. Sweet as molasses and just as thick in the distorted realm you walked.

“Drugged,” you managed, a strangled croak pushing through your throat. “He drugged… me.” You thought you heard cursing, and then your feet weren’t holding you up any more. Your body floated into a place not so loud, not so hot- quite chilly, actually- and when you turned your head, you weren’t floating. Your cheek rested over Alex’s thundering heart as he ran. You reached up a limp hand, barely managing to stroke it down his temple. “Y’re so… pretty.”

You closed your eyes and slipped into blackness.

You came back slowly, wading through a haze of voices and beeping and clattering. When you managed to peel open your eyes, you saw a dark room and a man half sitting, half laying across your bed. There was a moment of near-violent alarm before you recognized Alex’s unruly head of hair. He was sleeping, face turned away from you on the edge of the bed, and one arm lay draped over your waist. The other was tucked to his chest, and you noticed with a jolt that he was holding your hand, his thumb resting lightly over your pulse.

You took a moment to inventory your feelings. Your blood still sang with a vicious flight response, but you’d managed to compartmentalize for the mission. You had no idea how Alex had gotten you both out of there, but you didn’t care. You were grateful. The kiss. You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to memorize all the best parts of how that kiss had felt. In the moment, it had grounded you. Surprised you enough that you could tamp down your feelings.

Alex’s file flashed across your minds’ eye. Intentional. Disappointment bubbled up in your throat before being swept over with thankfulness. He’d kissed you as a distraction, to both you and the room. To get you out of a bad situation. Nothing more.

You didn’t even know why you were wishing it was more. You’d known this man for only days. Yet something in you reached out for him. You wanted to know him more. You’d built more trust in him in these days than in anyone else in the years since that fateful mission. Well, more than anyone except Kate. Maybe. You smiled to yourself as it dawned on you that Kate knew exactly what she was doing, putting the two of you together. She knew you needed him. Unbidden, Alex’s file leapt back into your mind. Delta.

What happened to you, sweet boy? Could you need me, too?

Unconsciously, you reached across your body to thread your fingers through Alex’s hair. The moment you made contact, his body went rigid. That split second stretched into a lifetime as you remembered the way he’d snapped awake in the plane, and again from the safehouse couch. You froze, but there was no fear. When time came back to itself, within the same second you’d touched him, he relaxed. His grip on your wrist tightened, just a bit, thumb pressing down on your pulse. He sucked in a breath and slowly, carefully, turned his head to look at you.

His eyes scanned over your face, and you weren’t sure if you imagined that they lingered just a bit longer on your lips before meeting your gaze. You quirked up one corner of your mouth in a tiny smile and it was like a dam broke.

The breath Alex had taken in came shuddering out as he raised his hand from your waist to your cheek. He half stood, hovering and squeezing the hand he still held. His thumb trembled as it skimmed across your skin and you recognized that he was shaking.

“I’m so sorry,” he breathed. He leaned further forward, pressing his lips to your forehead. You squeezed his hand.

“It’s okay,” you started, but he’d pulled back and was shaking his head. He sank to his knees at the side of the bed, clasping your hand in both of his and drawing it to his lips.

“I failed you,” he said simply. You couldn’t picture the look on your face in that moment. You just knew you must look like something out of a cartoon with the way you felt your mouth and eyebrows twist in disbelief.

“And how do you suppose…?”

Alex’s eyes flashed. “You were hurt because of me. I should have pushed back about this whole plan, I should have figured something else out. It should have been me.”

Your heart clenched. With a pang, you recognized something for which you had no proof but the undeniable comprehension that filled you. Survivor’s guilt.

“Almost,” you whispered. Alex’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion, and you couldn’t stop yourself from reaching up to smooth your thumb over the skin. It disappeared the moment your fingertips brushed against it, and Alex leaned into your touch. “I almost got hurt. You stopped that from happening.”

He didn’t look convinced. You both watched each other for several long minutes. His eyes kept skimming your lips, and you were sure yours did the same. “I had no right to kiss you,” he finally murmured, and you blinked in surprise. He’d dropped his gaze, looking away as his cheeks burned with shame. You raised a hand, turning his face back toward you. He looked up reluctantly when you held him there.

“That kiss saved me from… from…” You gulped, suddenly trembling all over again. Alex made gentle hushing sounds, raising himself up to sit on the edge of the bed. He reached for both of your shoulders, rubbing them lightly. You debated with yourself for only a moment before launching up to hug him. He let out a grunt at the force of your contact, but his arms came up around you, cradling you to his chest as sobs wracked your body.

You’d managed to put it from your mind, mostly. Now terror and revulsion and dread and fear and fear and fear crashed down, rattling through your lungs and threading through your veins like ice. You sobbed, and Alex rocked you, humming and hushing and holding as you broke down, kept together only by his firm grip on you. You weren’t sure how long you stayed that way, clutching him as though for dear life, but when you opened your eyes again, the sun was blazing on the horizon.

You squeezed his broad shoulders, and he squeezed your waist. You took a moment, finally calm, to run your hands over the planes of his back. Hard muscle clenched under your touch before your hands settled on his shoulders, still wrapped under his arms. You weren’t ready to let go quite yet.

“How’d you do it, anyway?”

You felt, more than heard, his answering hum. You turned your head, tucking your nose under his jaw. He inhaled sharply and you traced a line to the back of his ear, speaking with your lips at the place the two met. “How’d you get me out?”

“I,” he said, and his voice came out somewhat strangled. His arms pulled you the tiniest bit closer as he cleared his throat. “I may have, um. Told them that, uh, that I’d already paid for you for the night.”

You pulled back, blinking at him. His hold on you loosened, but his hands still rested between your shoulder blades. He seemed nervous. You smiled at him, hoping to ease his nerves. “And they accepted that?”

He scoffed. “Almost didn’t. Harding didn’t seem to care, but the asshole who had his filthy hands on you,” his own hands tightened here “said he’d buy me out.”

You raised an eyebrow in a silent question. Alex’s eyes softened considerably, and he raised one hand to tuck a lock of hair behind your ear. “I told him I’d made up my mind about you and no amount of money could change it.” You smiled at each other then, and your eyes dropped to his lips. When you looked back up, he was watching you intently. “He wasn’t too pleased with that, but… Harding, actually told him to cool it. No weapons in the club, don’t jeopardize the operation over…” here he stopped, looking away in obvious disgust. “I knew something was wrong when I tried to take you out, but I didn’t know what.”

You took in a deep breath, looking down. “What was it?” Your voice sounded small to your own ears. Alex didn’t answer right away. When you looked up, he seemed fixed on a point on the wall.

“Ketamine,” he said softly. Your body convulsed then, a fresh wave of icy terror sweeping over you. Alex hauled you forward until you were practically in his lap, rocking you again and stroking your hair. I’ve got you I’ve got you I’ve got you.

“Tell me you got the USB,” you said through clenched teeth.

“I got it,” he answered. “Harding, that scumbag, the whole operation- it was all on that file. The Amsterdam team already locked up the asshole who had you. Harding’s next. You did so good, sweetheart. I’m so sorry.”

You cried again, crawling as far into him as you could. You tried to silence your mind. Nothing happened, you reminded yourself. Nothing happened.

You cried until a nurse came to release you, then managed to pull yourself together enough to get dressed with Alex watching the door, close enough to touch through the thin material of the curtain that separated you. The hospital had given you a plain grey sweatsuit, which you’d gratefully donned without bothering to put on your underwear. You’d put the jewelry in a bag to go back to Langley, but the mini dress and fishnet body suit and everything underneath had been bundled up and handed to Alex to be thrown away. He’d done it for you gladly.

You gripped his hand the whole taxi ride back, and he’d wrapped an arm around your shoulders protectively. He’d carried the jewelry bag, stuffing it into the entry table drawer in passing. Halfway up the stairs, when you stumbled from a wave of nausea you’d half been expecting, he swept you up as though it was a perfectly natural occurrence and carried you to the bathroom. When you’d collected sleep clothes and makeup remover, he turned to leave. When your hand shot out to grab his, he nodded and perched himself on the toilet to watch you take off your makeup.

You didn’t have to say a word.

When your hand shook so badly that you had to stop, leaning against the sink, he stood, silently taking the makeup wipe from your hands. With the softest touch you’d ever felt, he tiled your chin up and wiped at your eyes, intermittently stopping to re-fold the wipe in search of a patch not streaked with black.

“Where do you want me?” he asked when he was done.

You glanced around the small room, grasping your elbow. “You can go, I’ll be okay.” He watched you, giving you time to change your mind, and then nodded, stepping into the hall and closing the door behind him. You stood for several moments before turning on the shower, anxious all over again. The steaming water did little to calm your nerves, and you scrubbed yourself raw in an effort to wash away the dread that had woven into your skin.

When you’d finally stepped out, opening the door to let steam pour into the hall, there was Alex. He sat against the opposite wall, head in his hands, and looked up when you stepped out. He offered a weak smile in your direction. “Feel any better?” You shrugged, but nodded. He looked down at where you still held your elbows and pushed himself to his feet. You abruptly felt horribly selfish. The circles under his eyes had darkened again and he looked pale. His tie was loose, askew, and he still wore the vest, although the buttons were all undone. His shirt had come partially untucked and you were certain the dress pants and shoes were less than comfortable. How long had he stayed up with you? You’d been hospitalized overnight, sleeping off the effects of the drug. Had he eaten anything since your dinner together the day before?

“Are you hungry?” you blurted out. His mustache twitched, betraying the amusement he felt.

“Not really. Are you?”

You shook your head. You noticed the clean clothes in his hands for the first time, and that wave of selfishness passed over you again. “You should shower.”

“You can come, if you want.” Your head snapped up, but there was nothing teasing in his tone or gaze. He seemed to think you weren’t pleased by this, because he rushed to say “I just mean if you don’t want to be alone.”

You looked down. “I don’t,” you said quietly.

Alex reached a hand toward you. “Then c’mere.” He pulled you into the bathroom, leaving the hall door open, and lifted you by your waist onto the countertop. He opened your toiletry bag, rifling through until he found what he was looking for. He turned on the tap, running your toothbrush under the stream of water, and then squeezed out a perfect stripe of toothpaste. Your eyes filled with tears when he presented it to you.

“Thank you,” you whispered as you took it. He smiled, squeezed your shoulder, and turned to undress. You looked out into the hall, allowing yourself just one glance as he pulled the dress shirt off and dropped it to the sides. The muscles in his arms rippled under the dark lines of his tattoos, and you found yourself surprised that he didn’t have more covering his torso. His shoulders were a wide, blank canvas marked only by faded white scars.

You turned quickly away, cheeks heating with guilt. He’d let you in here to calm yourself, not to ogle him. He showered much more quickly than you had, turning off the faucet as you spat your toothpaste into the sink. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw his arm as he reached for his towel, pulling it back behind the curtain.

“I’ll let you get dressed,” you said, stepping into the hall. You left the door cracked, pressing your back against the wall beside it and tilting your head back as you waited. You counted the seconds to keep your mind calm, and Alex emerged at 104. Like that first night in the safehouse, his hair was wild and his t-shirt clung to his damp skin. White this time, revealing a single tattoo on his chest above his heart. You couldn’t see clearly what it was, but you thought you saw something vaguely triangular. He smiled when his eyes rested on you and you offered a shaky smile back. “You look tired.”

He stretched his neck, reaching up to run a hand down his face. “Yeah.” He said simply. “Are you?” You nodded. He tilted his head toward your rooms, stepping forward. “C’mon, then.”

Your hand shot out before you could stop it, fingers wrapping around his bicep. Alex looked down sharply, concern etching his features.

You found that you didn’t know what to say. His face softened as he watched you, patiently waiting for you to find the words you wanted. “Can I stay with you tonight?”

He visibly melted, nodding. “Of course.” Blooms burst from the stems that rose from your skin, turning toward him like sunflowers to the sun. When you didn’t move, he offered you his hand. You took it, reveling in the warmth of his palm as he led you to his bed. You crawled across the narrow space, pressing yourself as close to the wall as you could.

Nerves sprung up as Alex deposited his clothes on the floor before sitting. He was a large man, and this bed was only meant for one person. He was already so tired, you couldn’t possibly keep him from sleeping well again, you had to tell him you’d be okay on your own, you had to-

“Stop thinking so loud.” Alex had stretched out, turning to you and waiting for you to lift your head so that he could rest his arm there. You did, and he scooted closer once you rested your cheek on his bicep. You didn’t move for a moment, too ashamed for taking even more than what he’d already given you. He reached around you, tugging you forward until your body was flush with his and your legs tangled together. You were so close that your nose rested on top of his, and one hand lay against his chest while the other toyed with the hem of his shirt.

“Thank you,” you whispered. In the darkness, you could only see a slight shine where his eyes were.

“Of course,” he murmured. His lips brushed yours as they formed the vowels. Your heart skipped a beat. He closed his eyes, and after a time, his breathing evened out and you thought he’d fallen asleep. Then he whispered, so softly that you almost thought you’d imagined it, “I want you here.”

You opened your eyes to see a pale sliver of moonlight illuminating a strip of his face. His eyes were on your lips, but they flicked up when yours opened.

You hardly even had to tilt your head, more leaning than actual movement. You pressed your lips to his, and the instant they touched he whimpered softly. Slowly, carefully, you slid your lips against his. You let your fingertips slide under the hem of his t-shirt, smiling against his mouth at the goosebumps that broke out across his skin. You traced the taut muscles of his abdomen as your tongue slid into his mouth, tracing patterns against his in a slow dance.

Alex was perfectly still, save for kissing you back. His hands hadn’t moved, one flat against the small of your back and one on the pillow somewhere behind your head, and suddenly you worried that you had overstepped. You flinched back, Alex involuntarily following you forward as his eyes snapped open.

“I’m sorry,” you breathed.

He was panting lightly, clearly trying to hide it. He licked his lips. “For what?”

“Kissing you, I don’t… I don’t want you to feel used.”

The corner of his mouth quirked up in a wry smile. Finally, the hand on your waist lifted to cup your cheek. “You don’t ever have to apologize to me. For anything.” His expression turned serious and he cleared his throat. “Besides, I’ve… I’ve been used for much worse. This is… this is a nice change.”

Delta flashed through your mind, but you kept your mouth shut. His thumb skimmed your lips, your nose, and the apple of your cheek. You closed your eyes, leaning forward to press one last kiss to his soft lips. He sighed into it, hand sliding down your side to your waist once more. He tugged you ever so slightly closer as you tucked your nose under his, lips still a hairs’ breadth apart. You slept soundly that night.

Two years later

You stood at the airport terminal, tapping your foot in excitement and anticipation.

Alex was coming home.

Amsterdam had been the start of a new routine for you both. He’d had to fly straight back to his post in Bahrain, but he hadn’t left without your number. You’d scribbled it in a tiny space of blank skin on his wrist, just below a line of barbed wire. You’d nearly added a heart, but worried at the last moment that it would be too intimate and instead settled on a poorly drawn shoelace, haphazardly tied around the barbed wire.

Alex had come back from that assignment with an addition to his sleeve that no one else was likely to notice. But you noticed.

You had picked him up from the airport then, too, and you’d stayed up all night, talking about everything from Alex‘s assignment that he was able to share and everything you had done in the time since. It hadn’t been much. Despite therapy, a strict gym routine, and a full plate at work (your director was thrilled to have you back), you’d been having nightmares. And early the next morning when you’d woken up on the couch where you'd fallen asleep, gasping for air and desperately trying to blink away the image of Sasha your subconscious had dredged up, Alex had pulled you into his lap and hushed you, stroking your hair and rocking gently.

“He’ll never hurt anyone again, angel. None of them are ever getting out, and it’s all because of you. You were so brave.”

You’d made each other house keys later that day. You’d joked weeks later that he should give up his apartment, seeing as he spent most nights at your townhouse anyway. He didn’t, and the change of scenery when you both stayed there was nice. You were particularly grateful when he was gone- staying there, surrounded by him, helped ease his absence- but you still felt just a bit of disappointment. You’d been joking, but you would have let him move in without a moment’s hesitation if he’d said yes.

Since the first time you’d picked him up, there hadn’t been a day that Alex was stateside that you hadn’t seen each other. This assignment had been the longest, and with the least contact. He’d been gone for nearly three months and you’d only heard from him twice- once to tell you he’d landed and once to tell you his flight information to come home.

You’d arrived at the airport half an hour before the time he’d given you, too impatient to spend the time flitting uselessly around your townhouse. Dinner was in the oven, the pantry was overfilled with snacks, and you’d made gallons of the sweet tea Alex was so fond of. Your spare room was ready with clean sheets and a lavender oil diffuser, and you’d laid out his favorite plaid pajama pants on the bathroom counter. You’d smiled to yourself as you fingered the soft material. Sometime in the early weeks of staying together, Alex had emerged from his room wearing them with one of the tank tops he usually wore to the gym.

“Oh, so we’re working out now?” you’d teased. You were curled up on the couch, flipping through channels in search of a good movie. Alex hadn’t answered right away, and you looked up to see him rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly.

“I, uh. I don’t really have too many t-shirts,” he’d mumbled. He shrugged at your incredulous look. “I’ve been on my own for a long time. Never really worn a shirt around here.”

You’d felt the heat rising in your cheeks as you cocked an eyebrow at him. “So then take it off.” Flustering Alex never ceased to amuse you, and didn’t fail now as his cheeks flushed red.

“You’re… you’d be okay with that?” You leveled a stare at him as if to ask “seriously?” and he shifted his weight, debating. After a few seconds, he reached for the back of the shirt and tugged it off. You stared openly at him. You’d assumed he’d be gorgeous, had imagined it, but your fantasies couldn’t compare to reality. Your eyes had gone first to the solitary tattoo on his chest- a dagger through the center of an open triangle with a lightning bolt on one end. Then they’d followed the trail of hair that led down and fastened on the lines of muscles along his hips. Your mouth watered. You wanted to touch them, run your tongue along them. They clenched as Alex shifted again, clearing his throat, and you looked up to see him looking, of all things, self-conscious. You let out a low, long wolf-whistle and he huffed lightly. “Hush up with all that,” he grumbled good-naturedly, dropping onto the couch and pulling you into his side. “Although I suppose I should expect it. You did call me pretty once, after all.” Your cheeks had flamed, but the outcome had been more than worth the momentary embarrassment. He’d slowly stopped wearing shirts to bed, in either of your homes, and you’d done your level best to keep your ogling to a minimum.

The tram slid into the station and you held your breath, as you’d been doing every time it arrived.

Your eyes landed on a tall head of messy brown hair, just over the top of the crowd. Your grin widened until you were sure it would split your face. You watched Alex step onto the escalator, searching the crowd for you.

You held up the houndstooth scarf he’d given you before he left for his first new assignment after Amsterdam. “Something to remember me by,” he’d said, fingers catching on the tassels even as he pressed it into your hands. As if you could ever forget him.

You caught sight of the matching scarf he wore, the one you’d given him at the airport when he’d come back from that assignment. Then his eyes met yours and he lifted his hand, offering a weak attempt to meet your smile. Your heart sank. He looked haunted, and exhausted. The circles under his eyes were far, far worse than any you’d seen before. He looked thinner, and there was a vacancy in his eyes that hurt your soul to see.

You pushed through the crowd when you saw him tap the shoulder of the man in front of him, making his way down as fast as he could. You broke through the last line of people just as his boots hit the floor and you sprinted the two steps between you to launch yourself into his arms. He wrapped you up like you weighed nothing, lifting you off your feet in a bone-crushing hug. You lifted one hand to run through the hair at the back of his head as he held you.

As if they were miles away, you heard passers-by coo. You paid them no mind but the common courtesy to not wrap your legs around Alex’s waist in such a public place, instead dangling from his hold by your arms around his neck. You asked nothing, and he offered nothing. When he put you down, he smiled. It wasn’t his usual mirthful, bright, Alex smile. But it was better.

“Can I stay with you for a couple of days?” he murmured.

“Silly man. Of course you can.” You trailed one hand to his cheek. He leaned in, then turned his head to kiss your palm. Goosebumps broke out over your skin. “You know you don’t have to ask.”

He was quiet for the drive, only clasping your free hand in both of his lightly. At home, you ushered him off to shower while you finished dinner. When he stepped into the kitchen, still damp the way you hated to be, you dropped the spoon in your hand.

“Alex,” you choked out. He had lost a notable amount of weight, but that wasn’t what held your focus. Angry marks ran down his torso, ranging in severity from scrapes and bruises of varying colors to a deep gash across his lower abdomen that wrapped around his side. You stumbled toward him, nearly losing your footing in your rush, and he sprang forward to catch you. Your fingertips ran gently over the gash across in his side and he hissed quietly, muscles tensing. “Sorry,” you whispered, still surveying the damage. He’d been wearing a long-sleeved shirt when you picked him up, but now you could see more cuts and bruises on his arms, even beneath the heavy line work of his tattoos.

Tears filled your eyes as your hands hovered just over his skin, afraid to touch him lest he break.

“I’m okay,” he said. He didn’t reach for you, allowing you to inventory his wounds. “It’ll heal.”

You shook your head, reaching for his hand. “Come on,” you said softly. You led him to the bathroom, sat him down on the toilet, and collected your first aid kit. You perched on his knee, trying to keep the majority of your weight off of him. He chuckled as you wavered, struggling to keep your balance.

“You won’t break me.” He rested a hand on your hip as you relaxed your stance. He closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the wall, only occasionally flinching as you applied salve and bandages to the worst of the cuts.

After dinner, you turned on reruns of an old sitcom with the volume low and dozed on the couch. At some point, you roused when you felt Alex lift you up.

“You shouldn’t be carrying me,” you said sleepily. Alex made a dismissive noise, nudging open your bedroom door and crawling into your bed with you still in his arms. You fell asleep that night laying on his chest with his heartbeat in your ear.

It was weeks later that you jumped awake when you heard Alex yelling, flying up and down the hall to his room. You could see him thrashing in the moonlight that shone through the window. You called his name, but to no avail- he couldn’t hear you through whatever he heard in his nightmare. You turned on the light and then knelt on the bed to grab his wrist. Instantly, he flew forward. He had you pinned to the foot of the bed before you could blink, one arm holding down your midsection while the other hand wrapped around your throat.

You froze, banishing the fear that pricked the back of your mind. You took a deep breath as the wildess in his eyes faded, making way for horror. He scrambled backward until his back forcibly hit the headboard, eyes fixed on you as he whispered your name.

“Did I hurt you? Oh, God, if I hurt you…” His voice and body shook violently, and he scrabbled at the sheets in a full-blown panic. You’d sprung up as soon as he’d let you go, crawling toward him and reaching out.

“You didn’t hurt me. I’m okay, Alex. You’re okay. Come here.”

“No!” he shouted. He seemed to shrink even further back against the headboard, shaking his head frantically. You paused. “No,” he whispered. “I- I didn’t mean- I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I-”

You crawled the rest of the way to him, still with one hand outstretched. You laid it on his cheek as you crept toward him until your knees straddled his hips. You pressed as close as you could, wrapping your arms around him. His hands clenched and unclenched at his sides, desperate to reach up. To take the comfort you offered. To touch you. But he wouldn’t.

“You didn’t hurt me,” you repeated. You took one of his shaking hands in yours, raising it to your throat where it had been a moment before. Alex shuddered violently. “Look.” Gently, you pried open his fingers until they lay flat against your skin, and you dragged them down to rest over your heart. “I’m right here, and I’m okay. Okay? You didn’t hurt me. It’s my own fault, I know better. I shouldn’t have touched you.”

He was shaking his head, nearly incoherent in anguish. “No, no, it’s not your fault, it’s my fault, it’s my fault.”

You grasped his head firmly. “Stop,” you whispered. “It’s no one’s fault, then. Okay? Everything is okay.”

Alex sobbed, finally leaning up to tug you closer, tucking his face into your neck. “You would never hurt me,” you repeated. You lifted your hands to his head and scratched lightly at his scalp. “My sweet Alex, you could never hurt me.”

For all the post-assignment nights you’d both had, you’d never seen Alex cry. It was a strange experience, and it broke your heart. He made practically no sound, but the force with which his body shook made the whole bed vibrate. You tightened your grip on him, tilting his head up to yours. He wouldn’t meet your gaze; his eyes were half-lidded, red-rimmed, and fixed on your mouth. You leaned down and he sucked in a breath. Just before your lips touched his, he whispered in a strangled voice. “Don’t.” You froze. “You can’t kiss me.” The roots beneath your skin splintered, breaking apart from each other.

There hadn’t been any more kisses, or discussions of kisses past, since Amsterdam. You’d tried to bury the attraction you felt, the longing to be near him, but you’d come to hope that it was returned. You knew, at least, that your presence was equally wanted. But in this moment, Alex was uncommonly still, eyes closed. Your heart had stopped beating. You leaned back, watching his face for any hint as to what he was feeling. Anything that might lessen the shock. You saw only pain there.

You had horribly misjudged his feelings, horribly misjudged the situation. You wanted to bring him comfort, of course, but you also wanted to show him your heart. To know his heart for you. You’d been selfish. Bile raced up the back of your throat, threatening to come out as you began to raise yourself up on your knees. The moment your hands left his head, though, Alex’s eyes snapped open.

“Wait,” he breathed. He lurched forward, clumsily grabbing at the backs of your thighs.

You could feel tears stinging your eyes. Shame and rejection and despair pumped themselves through your veins with every hard thump of your heart. “I’m sorry-” you began.

Alex had drawn in a deep breath. Now, he cut you off. “You can’t kiss me because I want to kiss you,” he blurted out. That stopped you dead in your tracks. He had looked back to your mouth now. One thumb stroked along your bottom lip as he swallowed, hard. “I want to kiss you so badly it hurts.”

Intentional flashed through your mind in a whole new light, this time.

A breathless laugh escaped you at that. “Well I want to kiss you, too. So why can’t I?”

Alex tore his eyes up with a visible effort. He cleared his throat. “I’ve wanted to kiss you every day since Amsterdam,” he said solemnly. You felt your heart soar up, up, and away from you. “I didn’t want to stop kissing you in Amsterdam.”

You lowered yourself back to his lap, stroking his hair and the cuts in it. On a balmy night that you’d slept on your balcony, when his head had been in your lap and you’d traced the scars, he’d told you he’d gotten them when he nearly died. “Explosion launched a piece of metal straight at me. Cut right down to the skull. They didn’t think I was going to wake up.” You shook the memory away.

“Then why did you?” you whispered.

Alex was watching your mouth again. “I didn’t want you to think I wanted you just because of the outfit, or that… that I’d kissed you in the club just to kiss you, just because I could.” His voice dropped as his eyes fluttered closed. “But God, did I want to. I didn’t want to stop.” Chills broke out over your skin. His eyes snapped open, blazing with resolve. “I wanted you to want to kiss me. I need you to want me.”

You lowered yourself further, stroking your thumbs up from the tips of his mustache to the tops of his cheekbones. “You didn’t think I wanted to kiss you when I kissed you that night? Didn’t think I’ve wanted you all this time since?”

“I… I thought you just wanted comfort. I didn’t think it had anything to do with me.” The hurt must have flashed across your face, because Alex leaned forward, cupping your cheek and pulling you closer to him by your waist. “I didn’t care. If all you ever wanted from me was comfort, I’d give it gladly without expecting anything in return. And… I had hoped. Since then.” A blush had risen in his cheeks then. “That what I was feeling wasn’t one-sided. I thought maybe, but…”

“I do want to kiss you,” you murmured. “And what you’re feeling is definitely not one-sided.”

He made a pained sound, leaning up seemingly against his own will until his lips barely brushed yours. “Don’t just tell me what you think I want to hear.”

“I’m not.”

There was a beat of stillness before he closed the distance, sealing your mouths together. His tongue seared a trail along the seam of your lips until you parted them for him, and it was like a switch flipped. His body came alive; hands roamed along your back as he alternately gripped your sides and pulled you closer; his chest heaved under your touch. He finally settled on squeezing the tops of your thighs while you tugged at his hair and moved against him, eliciting soft gasps and moans from both of you. The marks across his body had healed, leaving new scars in their places. You danced your fingertips along his bare collarbones, across the Delta team tattoo over his heart, over the scars and down his sculpted pecs and toned abs, drawing out a groan from him when you met the waistband of his pajamas.

“Wait,” he rasped. You waited, stroking the soft trail of hair beneath his belly button. He shuddered under your touch, cursed, and reached down to still your hand as he exerted visible self-control to look up at you. You blinked innocently at him. “You make it so hard to concentrate,” he said mildly, though his pupils were blown wide as his eyes roamed over your face. You giggled at that, which drew out a smile. He met your gaze briefly before looking away and clearing his throat again.

“I love you.” Every root in your body, every space along the stems along your skin and wrapped around your bones, burst forth in uncontrollable buds. You held your breath. “And I don’t expect… nothing has to change. If you don’t, that’s okay. I’ll still give you whatever you want-”

Your heart constricted painfully. You laid a gentle finger against his lips, drawing his attention from the floor. “I would never use you like that,” you said softly. You took in a deep breath. “I’ve loved you for a long time. Since Amsterdam, at least.” Breath had rushed out of him. His face glowed as he looked up at you in adoration.

“At least?” he breathed, teasing even in his disbelief. You shrugged.

“I don’t know. It might have been since you stepped between Kate and I.”

His eyes shone at that. A darkness descended, though, clouding his gaze. “And you’re not… I don’t…” You understood what he couldn’t say. You lifted his chin.

“You do not scare me,” you said firmly. He swallowed, looking away, and you wiggled his chin to get him to look back at you. “You would never, never hurt me, Alex. I’ve never felt as safe as I feel with you.” He nodded slowly. You leaned forward, pressing him back against the headboard to kiss him hard. You took control, and he let you. You poured all of your longing, love, desire, and reassurance into the kiss, leaning heavily against him as your mouths moved. Your hands were all over him, tracing scars and tattoos and patterns only you could see.

His hands crept under your shirt, skimming your sides until they rested between your shoulder blades. He squeezed lightly, leaning forward to deepen the kiss. He tilted his head and you let your hands brush down his ribs to trace the beginnings of the v-cut you’d always wanted to touch. You dipped your fingertips beneath the band of his pajamas and he lurched forward, breath leaving in a rush as though he’d been punched.

“Wait,” he gasped again, hands flying to your hips.

You huffed out an amused sound. “You know, if you keep stopping me like this, I’m going to worry that you don’t actually want me.”

Alex tugged your hips against his, wiping the smirk from your face as he leaned forward. His face had flushed cherry red, and the uncertainty with which he spoke was preciously endearing. “I think that you can feel perfectly well that that’s not true,” he murmured. And oh, goodness, could you.

You hummed in agreement, grinding your hips down on the proof of his desire. Alex groaned, grip tightening and face reddening even further. “I’ll never say no to you,” he ground out. That piqued your interest. You relented, sitting back to look at him curiously. “But I just… I didn’t want our first time to be… I’d never imagined…” His voice softened as he trailed off, eyes flitting to the foot of the bed. He didn’t want it to happen in the wake of his remorse, weighed by his inner turmoil.

You felt your heart melt. You’ve imagined this?

Your hand flew to your mouth when Alex’s darkening gaze told you you’d spoken aloud. His voice was gravel when he spoke. “Yes.” One hand stroked the scars on your arm, the other the side of your throat. “There’s a reason I usually get up before you.”

“Oh,” you said. And you realized, with a start, that he usually did. Ohhh. He was looking down now, shame coloring his cheeks. Anticipation lit beneath your skin, tempered only by the exhaustion evident on his face. You tilted his chin up. “I’ve imagined it, too.” He twitched beneath you, face a display of utter shock. You traced the shadows beneath his eyes tenderly.

“Take me to bed,” you whispered. “We’ll sleep tonight. Our first time can be any time you want, however you’ve imagined it.” A slow smile spread over Alex’s face.

“Yes ma’am,” he said. Then he abruptly stood with you still in his lap, wrapped your legs around him, and carried you shrieking down the hall to your bed.

The first time was the next morning, slow and soft as the sun breaking on the horizon. It was just as gentle, adoring, and attentive as you’d come to expect from Alex. Lush, languid, loving.

“Just like you’ve imagined?”

“Mhmm. And so much better.”

The next time was at Alex’s apartment as you packed his things the morning after that, half on the couch and eventually on the floor. Giggling, silly, and so natural. Just like you’d imagined.

Then there were the gym showers after he’d benched nearly his body weight. You’d teased him for too long, straddling him and giggling as you leaned down to whisper filthy things in his ear. He’d given up halfway through his set after nearly dropping the bar on his face, hauling you furtively to the locker rooms. Neither of you had quite imagined that.

The week Alex let his apartment go, you literally ran into Kate in the Langley halls, nearly spilling both of your coffees and successfully scattering the files she’d been holding.

“Trip,” she greeted warmly. “Living up to your name, I see.” She waved off your profuse apologies, walking with you and asking about how you’d been since you last spoke some weeks ago. “I see Alex changed his mailing address,” she said with a sly smile.

You raised your eyebrows, faux innocence dripping from your voice. “Oh? Was it unexpected?”

“No. In fact, it was quite expected.” She was beyond pleased, barely containing her smile before walking into her briefing. She took your hand just before you turned toward the elevators. “You’re so good for each other.” You’d smiled for the rest of the day, thrilled to have been right about her intentions. You couldn’t wait to tell Alex.

When you got home that afternoon, he wasn’t there, but there was a note on the island. “Gonna be late, dinner at 7?” There was an address for a fancy restaurant just a few blocks away that you’d mentioned wanting to try. You smiled, walked into your bedroom, and smiled even wider when you saw the dress and heels he’d set out for you. The dress was a rich, sapphire blue satin you’d bought some months back for a wedding that was unexpectedly canceled. You’d whined to Alex that you’d have to return it without ever having worn it and he’d insisted you keep it. “I promise you I can find some occasion for you to wear it,” he’d said.

You showered, re-did your makeup, and then slid the dress on. The sleeves fit tightly to your elbows, covering your scars, before flaring into bells that draped past your knees. The back was open all the way down, and a provocative slit up the side showed off most of your thigh. Alex hadn’t seen it on you yet, and you were eager to see his reaction. You’d learned since that first morning that he loved your thighs, something that was particularly delightful to you. You pulled on the silver pumps, considered a wrap, and decided against it. The weather report showed a warm evening with only a slight breeze.

You thought about taking your car, but decided not to when you saw that Alex’s was gone. It wasn’t so warm that you’d be sweaty by the time you got there, and it wasn’t so far that your feet would hurt, even in your heels. You fixed your hair, took one last look in the mirror, and set off.

The streets of D.C. were as lively as ever; people bustled up and down the sidewalk, taxis honked at each other, birds chirped, and you could hear children laughing from the park across the street. You smiled to yourself, grateful that you loved your city. When you reached the restaurant, you paused to admire the plate glass windows and gothic architecture before walking in.

Your eyebrows shot up when a doorman swung the door open, bowing slightly as you walked past. You murmured your thanks before approaching the maître d', an elderly gentleman in a tux who greeted you with a stiff bow and a warm smile.

“Good evening, my dear. Do you have a reservation?”

“I believe so,” you said, sure that Alex had thought this far ahead. “Seven o’clock for Alex Keller?” The maître d's face lit up and he extended his arm to you.

“Ah, yes! Mr. Keller. He asked me to seat you upon arrival and extend his deepest apologies for his tardiness; he shall arrive presently.”

You pursed your lips, trying to hide your smile. “Thank you so much.”

“But of course! May I interest you in anything to drink while you wait? A glass of wine, perhaps?”

“Um,” you began, and it was the maître d's turn to hide a smile at your ineloquence. “Could I just have a glass of water, please?”

You’d reached a table at the far side of the restaurant, just against a wall filled with expensive-looking, tasteful art. The maître d’ pulled out your chair, lowering you into it and nodding emphatically. “One glass of water, in just one moment.”

“Thank you,” you smiled. You took the opportunity to peer around the restaurant, noting the chandeliers and formally dressed staff. You wondered, vaguely, whether Alex had something up his sleeve or whether he’d just picked the place because you’d been interested. Or whether he’d picked it for an excuse to get you into, and later out of, that dress.

A waiter brought your water. You thanked him and, just as you picked it up, you heard Alex.

“She didn’t go falling on you, now did she?”

“No, sir, not at all!” replied the maître d’. You turned, gaping at your- boyfriend? Partner? There didn’t seem to be a good term for you two, and you hadn’t discussed any labels. You settled on person in your mind. And your person was beaming, eyes sparkling in mirth as he walked to the table. He held out a hand to you as he arrived.

“You expect me to kiss you after that?”

The maître d’ laughed sharply, quickly covering his mouth and excusing himself with a bow.

“I do,” said Alex smoothly. You grudgingly rose to your feet for a chaste kiss, eyeing him appreciatively as you did. He’d picked a black suit and tie with a silk shirt that matched your sapphire dress. His hair was, as always, out of place and wild. It just added to his charm. He looked devastatingly handsome. He seemed to think the same as you, holding you out in front of him and whistling low. He spun you around and was shaking his head when you faced him again. His eyes had darkened nearly to match his shirt.

“You look ravishing,” he said solemnly.

You felt a flash of shyness before the lust in his gaze caught up with your own, and then you felt just as ravishing as you were sure he thought you were.

“Business go well?” you asked as you slid back into the chair Alex had pulled out for you.

He unbuttoned his suit jacket as he sat. “Extremely.” There was a twinkle in his eye that made you squint at him, but he waved a hand. “Later. Have you looked at the menu yet? Pick something and tell me about your day.”

So you did. Your department had just begun using a new program and the legwork associated with updating all of your files was extensive. You’d been tasked with sorting and fixing error codes, and the list was thousands of lines long. It was tedious work. You paused to order when a waiter arrived, then regaled Alex with overly dramatic tales of your boredom, making him laugh loudly enough to look around the otherwise quiet room sheepishly.

“I think this place is juuust a little too fancy for us.” He’d lifted his fingers, holding them close together as he smiled, and suddenly you were back in the basement where you’d met. Your waiter delivered two plates of delectable looking food, then. You both thanked him, studied your plates, and dug in. Your food tasted even better than it smelled, and you assumed Alex felt the same as he chewed slowly with a blissful glaze over his eyes.

“Did you ever get those guns?” He blinked at you, snapping out of whatever higher plane he’d been transported to, utterly lost. “Right before Amsterdam. You said you were this close to getting those guns.” You mimed his pinched fingers, covering your mouth with your other hand. Alex reached up to cover his mouth, too. His shoulders were shaking and he shook his head, swallowing the food he’d been chewing.

“Where did that come from?” he chuckled. You made a face at him and reached across the table to pinch his nose, which only earned you an undignified snort.

“This!” You tapped your fingers together in a hyperbolic imitation of the gesture. Alex was full-blown laughing now, covering his mouth with a linen napkin and trying to quiet himself. He nodded, snickering into his wrist as he lowered his hand

“Yes, angel, I got the guns.”

You grinned at him. “See? How hard was that? Now your turn, tell me about your day.”

He shook his head, still smiling, and held up a finger for you to wait while he finished the last of his meal. You took advantage of the pause in conversation to finish your own food, leaning slightly back in your chair as you pushed your plate away.

“Good?” He asked. You nodded, patting your belly.

“So good.”

“Dessert?”

“Gosh, no,” you chuckled. “I don’t think I could even split something with you right now.”

“Good, neither could I.” He made a little cutting gesture across his throat to someone over your shoulder, and you turned to see the maître d’ nod in your direction. “Business was good,” Alex began. He’d taken the day off in order to sort through the last of the details of moving in with you. “Got all my paperwork done with my leasing office, got my address changed for all of my bills, canceled the internet, hit the DMV, all of that.” Alex stood as your waiter approached, pulling his wallet and an envelope out of his pocket.

He set the envelope on the table while he fished out his card for the waiter, exchanging it for a bottle of champagne with two flutes.

Your heartbeat sped.

“Are we celebrating something?” you asked, barely concealing the quaver in your voice.

Alex flashed a grin at you as he opened the bottle, pouring you a flute. “Gosh, I hope so,” he mumbled. Before you could question it, he handed you a flute and the envelope. “Open it,” he said softly.

Your heartbeat had slowed considerably. Whatever this was, it wasn’t what you’d expected from that opening. You squashed the pang of disappointment you felt. It’s too early for that you told yourself. You didn’t believe it.

Regardless, this had to be something huge. Alex didn’t make a big deal out of nothing. Whatever was inside, he’d already seen. The envelope had been opened. You pulled out a bundle of papers, unfolded them, and promptly dropped them to cover your mouth with both hands.

“Alex?” you whispered. Tears were already filling your eyes. He nodded.

“Laswell approved it. It’s conditional upon my acceptance, though. I told her I’d have to talk to you first. Comes with a bit of a paycut.”

You were shaking your head violently, already moving toward him with arms outstretched. “Oh, Alex,” you sobbed. “Alex, my Alex, I don’t care. It doesn’t matter, you’re going to be home. Oh, Alex.” You were weeping now, waves of relief and gratitude coursing through your veins.

He chuckled low, pressing his lips to your ear. “You’re saying my name so much it’s almost like we’re in bed,” he whispered. You hit his shoulder, face flushing as you sputtered. He laughed deep in his chest, squeezing you a little tighter.

You hadn’t even known Alex had filed for a departmental transfer. You hadn’t even looked yet at what it was. You let go of him with one hand to scrabble for the paper, lifting it to eye-level.

Language officer, operating out of Langley in Washington D.C.

Alex breathed a laugh as you held onto him for dear life. “You know, I was hoping you’d be a little happier,” he teased. You smacked his shoulder lightly again, laughing a watery laugh and fumbling for a napkin to wipe your face. He let you go and picked one up, turning back to you and suddenly looking quite nervous.

“But,” he said shakily. He wiped his hands down the front of his slacks. “It does make me feel a little more confident doing this.” He reached into his jacket.

And he dropped to one knee, withdrawing a black velvet box.

Your heart stopped.

Your breath caught in your throat.

Alex had squeezed his eyes shut, taking in a deep breath. He opened his eyes and breathed out your name.

“I never imagined myself falling in love. I thought I was going to be on my own for my whole life, and I was okay with that. Until I met you.” He opened the box and you let out a sob, covering your mouth again. The ring was two slim, twined bands- a black gold string of barbed wire and a white gold shoelace- with a sparkling diamond nestled between them. Alex looked down at it. His voice was low, solemn. “You wrapped me around you so fast it made my head spin. Now, I can’t imagine life without you.” He leveled you with an intense look. “I don’t want to imagine life without you.

You were nodding vigorously, and he chuckled softly, eyes shining. “What are you saying yes for? You have no idea what I’m about to ask, I could want you to join a cult. Just calm down.”

You laughed, all progress toward putting yourself together hopelessly lost. You were a blubbering mess; shaky, tear streaked, the whole nine yards.

Alex’s face softened as he looked up at you with such adoration that it might break your heart. The roots beneath your skin had overgrown your whole skeleton, every organ. There were nothing but blooms in your body, now- bright, white, sweet flowers.

“There’s nothing I could ever do to earn your love. But if you let me, I will dedicate my life to just that. Will you make me the absolute happiest, luckiest man in the world and be my wife?” You hadn’t stopped nodding, and you whispered “yesyesyesyesyes” as you launched yourself forward. True to form, you stumbled along the way. Alex, being Alex, was ready for you, anticipating your clumsiness. He laughed, the best laugh you’d ever heard from him and suddenly you realized that the whole restaurant was cheering and clapping and calling out encouragement as he lifted you off the floor and spun you around.

You kissed him, and felt him smile against your lips. He set you down just long enough to pull the ring from the box, sliding it onto your finger with ease.

“How did you know...?”

“I… may have taken the USB ring from Amsterdam.”

You looked at him incredulously. He gave a rueful smile.

“Call me a dreamer,” he murmured. Just a trace of nerves tinging his voice. You took his hand in yours, raising it to your lips.

“I’ll call you anything you want, so long as I can call you mine.”

The grin that split his face was instant and wide. “That was so, so cheesy.”

You wrapped your arms around his neck, leaning up toward him. “You love it.”

“I love you,” he whispered. He pulled you close, kissing you breathless, people be damned.

The lilies that had grown to cover your skin all reached up for him as he did.

#nightingale writes #cod #cod mw19 #alex keller #alex keller x reader #alex keller cod

355 notes · View notes

0lshadyl0 · 1 year

Note

Any HCs or scenarios on Yandere Hancock boa ?? I think she an interesting character 🥰

Of course, my dear, she is a fascinating character, in fact, she is my favorite female character after Nico Robin, I am weak to black haired women with cool powers and sad past.

Yandere Boa Hancock headcanons

• Brave of you to assume that she is not a yandere in the canon, that is, she has all the points to follow for her character to be a yandere, especially a delusional yandere

• sad past with traumatic events, no friends, position of power, no one contradicts her, she gets lost in her own fantasies, lives in her own reality and obsesses over a person beyond what is sanely possible, yeah she checks all the marks

• But, she would only become obsessed with her romantic interest if he has a very specific personality (for example, Luffy)

• Ok, let's say that the key for her to fix her eyes on you is that you have heroic tendencies, that is, she likes people with a good heart, willing to do what others would consider crazy in order to help others. the others (such as hitting a Tenryūbito, better yet, killing one)

• or just a very kind person with a great charisma, very positive mind but who doesn't take shit from anyone

• if things happened naturally, I'm pretty sure Hancock would be obsessed with a woman, Luffy is an exception to the rule (call it the power of the script thanks to being the protagonist of the series)

• Let's remember that the first men in her life that she met were the Tenryūbito and they are the worst experiences that a young woman like Boa could have, emotionally, physically and sexually (I'm 200% sure that she was raped by a good number of them, that's why despite being in love with Luffy she never sees herself having children with him… probably she can't even get pregnant due to irreparable damage to her sexual organ or simply they removed the ovaries so that she could not get pregnant by the Tenryūbito since she was a slave and the slaves are not worthy of having a child with a being as noble as a Tenryūbito is)

• Anyway, when she fixes her eyes on you, in her head she already begins to live in a world apart

• You've probably seen each other a maximum of five times and most of it in battles, possibly you saved her from some dangerous situation but not paying much attention to her, but in her head, you two are already engaged

• Yes, she is the type of women who, from a very young age, dreamed of getting married and having a large family full of love, a dream that has been transformed into only having a partner to love and be loved by because of the Tenryūbito and all their shit

• She is a relatively easy yandere to deal with, since the word of her s/o is divine law for her, she will never question you, nor will she go against you, she will not hesitate to put herself in danger or give her life for you, she literally will kill for you

• But, keep in mind, she is very jealous and in an unjustified way, nobody can look at you because she is already asking questions and imagining scenarios where you abandon her.

• Because, despite all that she says about being the most beautiful woman in the world, she actually has low self-esteem due to her past as a slave, she doesn't feel that she is worthy of you, because she is dirty

• But if you tell her that you are not interested in that person or deny knowing about the existence of the person who made her jealous, she will believe you without a shadow of a doubt.

• You can tell her that the sky is green and for her, yes, ultimately the sky is green and she will turn anyone who says otherwise into stone

• She is a stalker, she will follow you everywhere and will always be watching you, of course, at a respectful (Hinata-Naruto style) distance if the two of you get into a relationship, she will stick to you like gum, she is unbelievably clingy and has no idea of the meaning of personal space

• She is one of the few yanderes who have no sexual intentions, because she is traumatized with sex (she has never known about vanilla sex or consent) and considers it torture, she loves you too much to do you any kind of harm

• Oh, but if she were to get over her traumas and discover that sex can be enjoyed and is a way to stay connected to the one she loves, man, get ready for a long ride

#shady answer #one piece #yandere one piece #yandere posts #one piece headcanons #yandere x reader #yandere hancock #yandere boa hancock #yandere boa hancock x reader #one piece imagine #one piece boa hancock #boa hancock

188 notes · View notes

romana-after-dark · 1 year

Text

The Wrong Way: Chapter 6

Dark!Joel Miller x Fem!Reader Tommy Miller x reader (secondary)

Masterlist

Spotify playlist

Summery: You are sold to Joel to clear up some of your fathers' debts, and he takes you back to his house where him, Tommy, and high ranking members of his raiding trope stay. Joel is mean, cruel, and hash, but had small moments of softness that confuse you in your venerable state. Over time, you get to know him and Tommy, and see different sides of each, an both are hiding secrets. Was it possible to fall in love under these circumstances? Or was that just another way Joel was fucking with you?

Aka: my mom sold me to One Direction

WARNINGS FOR FULL FIC, NOT CHAPTER BY CHAPTER UNLESS SOMETHING NEW IS ADDED AFTER MASTER WARNING LIST: DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT!!!! Fic contains graphic depictions of sexual assault, rape, molestation, dubcon/non con. Blow Jobs, PIV sex, lose of virginity, sex trafficking, past incest, death/people dying everywhere, Stockholm syndrome, falling for your rapist, victim blaming, torcher, branding, physical abuse, rape (not Joel), somno, dub con on tommy? idk he's not really into it but feels like he has to, self-harm/depression/suicidal thoughts (not a lot) but fair warning, major age gaps, love triangle, pregnancy/birth, threats of abortion, major character death, mentions of potential csa/child abuse but does not even come close to happening, forced pregnancy, forced housewife shit, breeding, breeding kink?!?!

Heavy on the warning for guns

**************************

Waking up with Joel meant morning sex, and now that he was recovered from food poisoning after a whole day of no sex, he was rock hard by the time you were up, rocking his hips in the curve of your ass. Not long later, he was fucking you on your sides, arms wrapped tightly around. You avoided his kiss; his breath smelled gross due to the puking, and he was courteous enough to keep his face buried in your hair. You were starting to find you really liked when he took you from behind, it hit something delicious inside you, bringing you close with every pump; how did he have this much energy so early?

“Uh, uh, uh” The sounds come out your mouth in rhythm to his thrusts, warmth covering your body, the pleasure building as you clung to Joel’s strong arm wrapped your middle, holding on for dear life. “Joel, Joel I’m close, please touch me? Gonna cum again”

“You wanna cum again, little one?” He panted, hot breath in your neck, arms moving up to grope your breasts. “Not every day I get two out of yuh”

“Yes sir, please” You whimper for him, even as his hand crept further up your body, away from where you need him, but you trusted Joel. “Wanna cum again, wanna cum with you.”

Suddenly, his large gruff hand clamped around your throat your breathing laboured and raspy as you lurch, and his face was right next to your, beard scratching your skin. “You gonna tell me why your fuck’n brother was here last night?”

All the blood in your body drained out of your body, a million questions in your head as you wrapped your hands around his large one trying to pull him off of you. How did he know? How much did he hear? Did your refusal to go with Zach seal not only your fate, but Zach’s Lorenzo’s, fuck… would Tommy be punished for this? “Joel, please.”

His hand tightened. “Answer me” He was inside you still, the reminisce of your ruined orgasm leaving you shaking

“H-he wanted to rescue me” you rasp out, wriggling against his body with your hand on him, trying to get out.

“Then why the fuck are you still here?” His breath smelled like puke and morning breath, overpowering the smell of sex and adding to your heightened terror. Would Joel actually kill you for not going?

“I din wa’a,” You cough, your throat hurting as your breathing is restricted. “Joel, ca- breath.” dark spots came around your eyes

He lessened his grip and you gasp, deep sputtering breathes filling your lungs again. “How the fuck did he get in? Where was Lorenzo?” You decide to let Lorenzo live, he knew too much about your brother, and you could still save Zach if you played your cards right. Besides, he was no Nick, you didn’t enjoy getting people hurt.

“Lorenzo was in the bathroom, I don’t know how he got in! Please,” You continued writhing as Joel was still inside you, and he began fucking you again but did not let go of your throat. “I didn’t wanna go, I wanted to stay with you.”

Joel’s speed was slow and steady, pulling all the way back and slamming in, making breathing even harder. “Do I need to kill your fucking brother?”

“No! No, Joel, please, I stayed, didn’t I? Please don’t.”

He stopped choking you, his neck around your throat suddenly so soft, his lips kissing your bruised neck and he changed positions; you on your back, Joel knelt before you as he fucked into you faster. “I won’t for now, little one, but just know if you leave, he’s the first place I’m going to and I’m making his death as slow as Nicks, understood?”

Looking up at him, still holding his hand around your neck, you nod frantically. “I won’t, I won’t Joel, I swear!” You cry; you want Tommy, but after last night you weren’t sure he’d come to your rescue anymore… and calling for him would solidify his death and yours, either way.

Sitting back and finally letting go of your throat and you get a full breath in, Joel pulls out and jacks off on you're body before collapsing back onto you, his heavy and ever-oddly comforting weight on you, despite the fact bruised your neck, you were so happy to have him with you, warm and gentle, you wrap your arms around his middle.

Joel kisses you, and you aren’t even bothered by the smell anymore, just so happy for the affection. “Good, because if you ever try to fucking leave again I will tie you to the bed and set this fucking house on fire.”

You didn’t even have it in you to be scared, or hurt, or sad… you just swore up and down between kisses that you were his, and you never wanted to leave. When things calmed down, you were in his arms again, resting as he kissed your bruising neck.

“You play guitar?” You ask softly, looking at the 6 string all dusty resting up against his dresser.

“Use-tah. Long time ago.”

“Oh…” You couldn’t help the disappointment in your voice. “Okay”

Joel turned to you, his mouth leaving your neck. “Why?”

You kept looking away, embarrassed you got your hopes up. “Nothin”

Joel took your face in his jaw, turning you, forcing you to look at him. “Tell me, little one”

“I just… I was kinda hoping to hear something… that’s all, not a big deal”

His eyes darted between yours, you could practically hear him thinking, before he let go and abruptly stood up. “Don’t work, anyway. Needs strings. Besides, I havn’t played in years.”

“It’s okay” You smile up at him. Music would be nice… Zach played a little bit of piano, your mom had taught him some. He could play Red River Valley, singing it for you sometimes until Joel’s men destroyed the piano… that a few years ago, long before you every met Joel, or Tommy. You did recognize one of the men, one who lives here now. His name was Aiden. He was an asshole like Nick, but after Nick was skinned alive, he didn’t dare look at you.

After a bath, (which you made Joel brush his teeth beforehand) you were back in your room as he left for ‘business’, and as expected, the door opened around noon, with a nervous looking Tommy entering carrying a tray with bread and the leftover soup from last night. “Hey honey- What the fuck!?” Tommy about dropped the food as he set it down and rushed over to you, hand on your neck. “Fucking hell, what did he do? When was this?” The frantic worry in his eyes was evident as he tilted your head with a soft, gentle grip on your chin, a contrast to Joel’s harsh one earlier this morning.

But you pulled back, and Tommy let go of you. “It’s nothing, Tommy.”

His face dropped. “Hey… hey whats wrong?” He noticed your change in demeanor.

You glare at him, but without much power behind it. “I didn’t forget last night” I whisper.

Sighing, Tommy gets up to close the door and brings you your food. “I’m sorry, I really am.”

“You’re just sorry you got caught in a lie!”

“Yeah, yeah I am.” Tommy deadpans. “I never wanted you to find out, is that you want you here? But not because I want you here. I want you far, far away from Joel, as far away as you can, but not… not now…” He speaks in earnest, you want to believe him…

“I don’t want to leave, Tommy. That’s why I didn’t go with Zach while everyone was sick, I don’t wanna go. Joel… it’s better here”

Tommy’s fast twists into concern. “What do you… what does that mean?”

“I’m safe here. I’m safe from everything going on out there… Joel protects me.”

His face was unreadable. “Honey, no, no that’s…” Shaking his head, he tries to find the right words. “Joel’s not safe either, you know that right? He branded you, he raped you, he did that-” He references your bruised neck “To you!”

“Don’t yell at-”

“Joel is the bad guy! He is the one you need protection from!”

“He’s the one that killed Nick, Tommy!” You shout at him, angered. “Not you! You let Joel brand me, you let Joel rape in front of everyone, you LET HIM!” You stand up on your shitty mattress and Tommy stands with you. He is much taller but you do not waver as you point at him. “So don’t act like you are my savior, when you just have a savior complex! The only person who can protect me from Joel is Joel!” You don’t know why you are suddenly so angry… but god, everything from the last few months… you were locked up in your little room, the anger had to go somewhere… “Those men out there” You point outside “I could walk out here naked, and none of them would touch me, not because of you, but because of Joel! He only did this to my neck because Zach came and tried to take me when he couldn’t keep me safe from dad, he branded me because I tried to run, he raped me because I put up a fight, he hurts me when I or someone else does something and as long as no one interferes, that includes you, Tommy, everything is fine!”

Tommy let you, he let you scream and yell because in the end, you were right. He could tell you that he was the one that made sure you ate every day, that stop the others when Joel left you to be gang raped, that he was the only patching up your wounds… but you were right, Joel still did every he wanted to you, and Tommy couldn’t stop him. Tommy knew what you meant by interfer… it had become clear how touchy he was, how he held you and cared for you… and he was putting you in danger as he did that.

“Okay” He whispers, eyes closed. “I get it. Joel is the one who protects you… not me…” He opens them, and you swear you saw his eyes glistening. “Can I still be your friend?”

He looked so young all of a sudden, despite his mustache and the lies around his eyes… You calm down from your outburst, and you feel bad… feel bad for how much you yelled at someone who had only tried to help you… but you needed to be safe with Joel. “With the door open” You couldn’t leave room for suspicion.

Things with Tommy were different, after that. You withdrew from him, no longer spending hours playing card games and talking… but he still came and kept you company, as long as you’d allow him. But as soon as Joel was home, you belonged to the older brother. I wasn’t fair to Tommy, you knew… but neither Joel nor Tommy had been through what you had, were living through what you were, and you were just trying to survive. Tommy was no longer your refuge. You slept in Joel’s bed every night, you spent more time with Joel than Tommy… and Tommy began spending more time working… He’d go away over nights more and more, sometimes a few days at a time… you couldn’t help but miss him, but this was your bed to lay in. You did have more freedom, however. Since you had an opportunity to leave and didn’t Joel trusted you more. You cooked sometimes, began cleaning a bit… it was something to do, and you began to enjoy it. Plus, the men were a lot less cold to you when you’re the one providing real home cooked food; a few thank you’d had been mumbled here and there, mostly from Jack who was the more polite of the group.

You had gone to bed in Joel's arms, fell asleep in his tight grasp, safe and warm, Tommy was out on some overnight trip when you woke up to commotion in the living area, shouts of the men, Joel screaming about something, clearly on a rager and you were going to stay in bed until Joel settled it and inevitable came back to the room wanting to use your sleeping body to blow off steam… when you heard it. Tommy yelling in pain. Instantly, you forgot about every you had been angry about, and rushed out the door in time to see Joel pistol whip Tommy in front of a crowd of the men. You vaguely register Jack telling you to stay out of it and Aziz saying ‘don’t’, but it didn’t matter; Joel was hurting Tommy.

“Joel stop!” You scream and run to Joel, but stop dead in your track as Joel turned the gun on you, and you find yourself wide-eyed and back into the wall, staring at the barrel of a gun as Tommy trying to tell Joel to stop from where he lay on the ground.

Joel wasn’t listening, his voice smooth and calm despite the shaking rage behind them. “How long you been sleep’n with my brother, little one?”

You were frozen in place, unable to speak, but Tommy was trying to get up, still reeling from the pistol whip that had his head bleeding. “Joel, no, we never did anything, I was just keeping her company-”

He lowers the gun temporarily. “No way you put yourself between me and a man unless he’s fucked your stupid little pussy.” He tapped your cunt with the gun before bringing it back up.

"Joel, no-" You whisper, terrified

“Close your eyes” He said to you, his voice a deadly calm, before shouting. “CLOSE YOUR EYES!”

In the background, you can hear vaguely as Tommy tries to reason with Joel, stumbling to get up; he is on one knee, his hand reaching out using his signature ‘calm down, Joel’ voice, but right now, you are looking into Joel’s eyes, so often filled with affection for you, but now dead and cold. You do as you are told, closing your eyes, your knees about to buckle in fear of Joel painting the wall with your brain matter. “I didn’t-” You try to say, but stop as Joel caresses your face with the barrel of the gun, gently shushing you.

“Here's what we’re doing sweetheart” If you weren’t away of the situation, his tone wasn’t unlike how he’d gentle coax you into whatever position he wanted you in. “When you open your eyes,you’re gonna tell me ‘No Joel, I never slept with with your goddamn pathetic stupid dumbass pussy of a brother’ in more or less words and if I don’t believe you…” He tapped your cheek twice making little gun shots sounds. “No more pretty little girl, okay?”

It takes everything in you to not cry, merely whimpering as you feel the cool metal on your cheek, and you nod. You were almost certain you couldn’t do this. You had never been a good liar, only held on this long because Joel seemed to trust you… seemed to think you were in a relationship early on when all he did was hurt you. But now, now you’d have to look him in the eyes and lie, and almost certainly you’d be dead moments later.

“Okay” You whisper, voice quite.

“Joel, c’mon, leave her out of this”

Joel didn’t look at him. “Not helping her case, Tom” He nudges you with the gun. “Times up, open your eyes.”

You take a deep, steadying breath and open them, you are ready to try and lie, to save yourself, to save Tommy… you open your mouth. “I n-”

“I made her do it” Tommy’s voice broke out from behind Joel, causing him to turn around, and your knees gave out in relief. You only stop from hitting the floor because Lorenzo catches you, setting you down, and stepping away lest he get caught up in all this.

“Bullshit” Joel said, but you could see the gears turning.

“I did! It was her first time, and, I wanted it, that’s why I wanted you to wait” Tommy wasn’t the best liar, but he was trying to deflected it away from you.

“No,” Joel shook his head. “No, she bled when I took’er, I remember her bleed’n”

“Because you RAPED HER DRY, JOEL!” Tommy’s frustration with his brother boiled over.

“Shut up!” Joel screamed, defensive. “I did no such thing!”

Tommy’s laugh was dry, sardonic. “You’re playing house with her, but you forget you kidnapped her! She’s not your wife, she’s a victim of your rape and abuse!”

“Shut! Up!”

“Jesus CHRIST, Joel, she’s younger than Sarah would’ve been!”

“Don’t you fucking talk about her” Joel’s deadly calm was back. “You don’t fucking do that”

Tommy wouldn’t stop. “If Sarah were alive, she’d be disgusted with you, she’d never fucking talk to you-”

The gun blast made you scream and cover your face, you aguely here Lorenzo, Jack, and a few others shout something.... you couldn’t look, knowing you’d see Tommy dead. All the times he had tried to help you, tried to ease things, and you had gotten him killed for taking your virginity. You sat back against the wall crying… you had gotten Tommy killed, Tommy died because of you… your fault, your fault, your fault... Suddenly, you are being dragged to stand up. “Get up!” Joel bellows, his strong arms dragging you to Tommy’s dead body and all you can do is scream hysterics. “Stand! Up!”

When you finally do stand, you open your eyes only to find Tommy still alive and kneeling before you, a gunshot in the wall above him.

Joel pulls motions for another gun from Diego, and puts it in your hands, holding it still as he pulls his own gun back on your forehead. “Liste up, little one” His voice is soft, a feather light breath against your cheek as he leans close. He aims the gun at Tommy, the barrel between his eyes. “Tommy’s been running around behind my back with that cunt in Jackson, fucking her and telling her god knows what about me and my business”

“Joel, I swear, I never told her anything!” Tommy pleads.

You blink, and you can’t feel a little… betrayed… He was sleeping with someone?

Joel noticed.

“Awwww, did Tommy make you feel special?" He mocked you. "Tommy make you feel like you were the only one he was fucking, the only one he treated all nice. Guess what, little one, you're not special t him. I get he's got loads of other whores he fucked, you're just the little kept girl when he wants some naive pussy" Joel kisses your neck "But... You are special to me, you are the only one I’m fucking, you are the only women in my life, and yet… you still fuck around with Tommy." He sounds almost... hurt... "But I’m gracious, I’ve forgiving.” He forced you too look directly at him, and his eyes… they were soft again, the softness you couldn’t help fall for. “I love you, he doesn’t. Now.” Joel straightened up and stepped back, but the gun never left your head. “I’m gonna count down from ten, and if you shoot him, you proved yourself to me, and we can go on being happy, being together.” He kisses your cheek, smelling your hair as he pulled away. “If you don’t… and I reach 0, I blow your fucking brains out, okay?”

You begin crying.

“Joel, don’t do this to her”

“10… 9…”

“I can’t! Joel I’m sorry, Joel, I love you, I can’t kill him!”

“8… 7…”

“Honey look at me” Tommy’s desperate voice calls you, and you turn to him, his beautiful brown eyes looking up at your where he is kneeling, his dark, long hair tousled. He schooled his expressions, peace on his face for your sake. “It’s okay. Do it.”

“6… 5…”

“Tommy no, I can’t hurt you.” There's gotta be another way…

“It’s okay” He nods. “I’m ready. Right through the head, it’ll be quick.”

“4… 3..”

“I can’t” You sob.

“Yes, yes you can, it’s okay. Just do it, stay alive, and Joel will keep you safe.”

Tommy, sweet, kind Tommy… He would not die at your hands, and you would not die at Joels

“No.” You drop your gun to your side and turn to Joel; you can see the confusion in his eyes. “No, you won’t do it.”

“2… yes I will”

“Honey, it’s okay, I promise you-” But you weren’t listening to Tommy.

“No, you won’t hurt me. You love me too much”

“I will, 1”

You don’t blink. You keep your eyes locked on Joels, his deep brown eyes swimming with confliction and hurt… betrayal from both you and Tommy.

But he doesn’t shoot you. Ever so slowly, you take the gun in your hand and put it back in his. You could’ve used it to shoot him… but it would’ve been useless and probably ended with a bullet in your head for real this time. Instead, Joel looks at you with nothing short of aw as he lowers his gun. You trusted him. You refuse a rescue, you knew he wouldn’t shoot you, and you give up your weapon to him… He owned you, completely.

“You won’t kill me. And you wont kill Tommy either, because you love both of us. You are going to let Tommy go, run off to Jackson, and Tommy is never going to divulge any of your secrets.” You turn to Tommy, who has sat back on his hunches, looking at you with confusion. “Because if he does, you’ll know who betrayed him” You tell Tommy with your eyes not to fuck this up. Then, back to Joel. “And then you and I can live here happily ever after, without anyone interfering.”

Joel stirred at you for a long while, considering his options… but he knew, deep down, he couldn’t kill either of you. He was furious at Tommy for his betrayal, for fucking that bitch Maria, for lying to him, for taking your virginity when that was suppossed to be his… but Tommy was his little brother. Long before Sarah died in his arms, long before this virus, long before the empire that he built that began as just trying to keep Tommy alive… it was him and Tommy, their whole lives. He was his brother, Joel had saved his skin again and again and Tommy had Joel’s back when Joel’s wife left him, and helped raise Sarah… Sarah… Tommy’s words stuck in his head, what would Sarah think of him? He wasn’t a rapist, despite what Tommy said, he wasn’t that kind of man… but he could be softer, he could’ve been better to the girl he kept locked up… Sarah, if she was watching somewhere, could never forgive him if Joel killed her uncle she adored so much…

“Lorenzo” Joel called, and the short hair man stepped up. “Get him the fuck outta here, dump him once he’s off my fucking property. And if anyone sees him here again, or if anyone sees her-” Joel points to you “Outside without anyone, shoot them.”

Lorenzo nodded, and began pulling Tommy away. Tommy gave one desperate look back at you, and was out the door before you could blink.

You don’t have a second to process that your best friend just left you before Joel is pulling you into the bedroom, pushing you against the wall and shoving your pants down. He thrusts into you with no preparation and you stifle a whimper on your hand, but Joel pulls it down.

“Wanna here you cry, little one. That pain? The pain is mine. Your cries are mine, your cunt is mine. And if you bleed?” Just then, his face is right next to yours, his beard wiping the tears that rolled down your cheeks. “Your blood is mine. Got it?”

“Yes sir” You moaned out the way he likes to hear. You were growing wet embarrassingly fast, his cock hitting that lovely, lovely spot you loved so much and suddenly, you had forgotten about how he had almost killed you, the slap of skin and his arm groping your breasts, fingers playing with your nipples as he fucked into you drawing you closer. Joel came inside you, something he had only done after Nick, it was as if he was laying his claim, possessing you as his hot cum and some of your blood trickle down your leg. Joel had a new surprise for you.

He lifted you over his shoulder and tossed you onto the bed and you watched him crawl up to you, his eyes hungry and you had no idea what was possibly coming… when Joel began to lick your cunt, you were shocked, hips bucking up but Joel was quick to pin you down; he laid down in front of you on his stomach with his arms wrapped around your legs and christ, it was like he was trying to devour you. You felt his tongue reaching up inside you, his fingers playing with your clit the way only he knew how and the sensation was so new, so unreal, you weren’t sure how to take it.

But you did. you took every single bit he gave you as he cleaned you up of his own spent, his tongue licking and sucking and slurping you up eagerly, plush lips devouring you whole as if he could eat you alive, keeping you with him forever and becoming a part of him like an unholy communion. His tongue laved out as he brought his mouth up and over your clit, making you shutter...

And when his mouth sloppily latched onto your clit and two thick fingers were fucking into you? You came in under a minute after that.

“Fuuuuuuuck!” You cry out as if all of today's events never happened. “Joel!” You scream out as you cum, not caring that Lorenzo might hear you, that he probably thinks you're pathetic for getting such pleasure from the man whose gun had kissed your forehead the way his lips kissed your cheek now as you reveled in the afterglow of your orgasm. You expected Joel to threaten you about what happened with Tommy, to wrap his fingers around your throat or grip your face harshly… but he just kissed you as he pulled you close, covering the two of you up. Still, you new he was references sleeping with Tommy, when his last words before bed were-

“Please don’t do that to me again.”

You cupped his face and assured him you’d never leave, that you are his.

You are his.

*******************

bye bye tommy : (

out of curiousity, i have a lil pole

Thank you to everyone who comments, likes and especially reblogs!

A note for reading dark fics. I know we all preach and askf or reblogs which is v v v true, they are the only way to spread our work, but i understand given the content of a dark fic, maybe you dont wanna have that on your blog. If thats the case, if my work or the other amazing authors inspire you to, please consider leaving a comment, or even an anon ask tell the writer why you liked it! It helps us know what people like, and encourages writing.

You are all so wonderful and supoortive though, thank you!!!

if you'd like to be added or removed from the tag list LMK

and i think my next fic here will be a dark!nathan bateman so if you'd like to be tagged in that, comment below!

Thank you all to my wonderful readers, i appriciate all of you

@my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @howaboutcastiel @tidlewav3 @bunnnyy-dummy @slutfortimotheechalamet @foggymoonbanana @dinsbaby @miraclesabound @jenna-ortega @primosworld @marclovers @threeheadedlamb @secretwriterpp @the-fox-den

@bitchyglitterfox @0bsessedwithfictionalcharacters @alloftheboysivelovedbefore @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @lunar-ghoulie @pedritosdarling @dreamonseems @alwaysdjarin

192 notes · View notes