#I feel like he's one of those bosses people would prefer to have over the alternatives bc it feels Easier to deal w him than live in fear

[yeonban]

Being in Tobias' mind is such an intriguing experience bc you'd typically expect him to only care about getting richer and richer for riches' sake like most other "villains" do, but all he wants is excitement, fun and the feeling of being alive. He couldn't care less if his life were to be put at stake, nor if his entire wealth were to vanish overnight. Sure, he's confident he could get it all back if it ever happened, but it also shows what money is to him. A means to an end, rather than the goal to strive for

#muse: tobias. #At the end of the day he's using that money to have FUN rather than for power or influence or what have you that maddens people #and it Shows bc I've glanced over some of his former threads and he fr just. offered to buy an entire clothing line for a blond woman #NOT because he wanted her favor; but simply bc he wanted to see what her REACTION to it would be. for funsies and whimsies #Does he do what will bring him most money? Sure. Does he do it FOR the money? Naww #If he had to do smth he disliked or didn't felt like doing; he would Not do it even if money was on the line. Exceptions: indebting people #If anything he'd think putting that money on a hook and dangling it in front of bosses (re: leaking that there's a chance to gain it) #while simultaneously getting in their way would be a x100 funnier experience. And usually it'd still end up bringing him $$$ #I'm trying to remember what he's used his money for thus far and tbh it's been the usual (drinks-drugs-cigars-luxury) AND pampering others #except I??? realized a while back that he's Never gotten drunk. NEVER. so all that money goes moreso into subtly manipulating people #He's even willing to forgive their debts at his owned bars & clubs as long as he imagines that way's going to end up more exciting #I feel like he's one of those bosses people would prefer to have over the alternatives bc it feels Easier to deal w him than live in fear #which is fascinating bc it's true that Tobias isn't bloodthirsty and /can/ be counted on; but imo it's scarier to not know what tf he wants #Bro jumped out of a window and waited for Gevanni to catch him just to give that man an experience resembling a heart attack LIKE. 😭😭😭 #It's good if you can manage to /befriend/ Tobias bc it means you're safe from him... but if you get in /other/ trouble then it's a 50/50 #if he'll help you or find it more amusing to watch til the last second. Altho ig AT LEAST he'll intervene before things get Too bad for you #If you're not friends w him/he doesn't find you entertaining & it's too much effort to help you tho... sayonara.

[undreaming-fanfiction]

My brain refuses to sleep, so more drabbling! Probably modern-ish AU?

Steve makes a career for himself as a re-decorator (or de-decorator, as he loves to call himself). His clientele are those celebrities who rose to fame so quickly they have plenty of money, but they don't have time to make their houses feel like home. They just bought penthouses and mansions and now live in homes that are fancy, but they feel like hotels.

Steve is there to fix that.

One of his clients is the hard working rockstar Eddie Munson whose life path went from a trailer park to couch surfing to living with 4 people in a tiny apartment, then suddenly tours, hotels and boom! He has a house that looks like an IKEA prop.

He doesn't hide his distaste at the pristine condition of the place (yes, Eddie has a cleaner). "Oh god. A beige carpet?" he scoffs and he sounds so bitchy Eddie decides he likes him already.

He likes him even more when Steve puts on reading glasses. Damn.

Over coffee, they discuss what Eddie wants. Except Steve doesn't just...tell him. He doesn't give him any hints. He just keeps asking about Eddie's favorite colors, what movies he likes, does he have hobbies apart from music? Can Steve see some of the items that bring him comfort?

And Eddie's surprised. "Shouldn't you, like...be telling me what I'm supposed to want?" he asks the gorgeous man who almost wails when he sees the vase with fresh flowers ("This is the third place in a row that has this fugly thing! Is it like a status symbol? Uh, tasteless.").

And Steve just stares at him. "Uh, Mr. Munson?"

"Eddie."

Steve nods. "Eddie. Why should I have any say in what you want? If you ask me what's practical, easy to clean, what bounces off light well, that's another thing. But in matters of taste...you're the boss. You live here, I don't. (Pity, Eddie thinks) Now, let's change this place into somewhere you actually like staying, hm?"

They spend the whole afternoon talking. Eddie opens up about what he loved before the touring and expectations from his agent took that from him. He talks about the Lord of the Rings, Dungeons and Dragons, fantasy in general, and Steve listens, makes tons of notes and asks questions that make Eddie's heart bleed, such as "and who is your favorite Lord of the Rings character?" and "you mentioned elves, dwarves, orcs, wizards...so what is your favorite group?" and "which DnD class would you be then? I guess a bard? Is that too obvious?". Now, Steve doesn't know much about these things, but learns quickly and works with the info he has.

They walk through the house again, with Steve making notes and wincing at transgressions against humanity or at least against his taste in things ("Oh ew. EW. Glossy finish on a kitchen counter? What is this, a future crime scene?") and Eddie feeling equally amused and curious. Eddie orders dinner for them, it goes something like:

"I don't know what would be appropriate, any preferences?"

"Eddie, there's no time or space when pizza is not appropriate."

"What about a funeral?"

"It puts fun in a funeral."

"Touché."

They follow up on a bunch more things. Steve notices Eddie fidgeting and asks him like the mindreader he is if perhaps the place is too clean for him. "Minimalism is what everyone's trying to push," Steve says, not without sympathy, "but it's not for everyone. I hope you don't take this the wrong way, but you seem like a person who'd love a more....personal, cluttered space."

And god, Eddie feels so seen. He tells Steve about all his favorite books and trinkets that he lost during a horrible earthquake in Indiana, so when he moved to the city it was just some clothes and his two guitars. Steve makes so many notes. "I've seen quite a lot of collectibles for your beloved trilogy," he says with a hint of a smile. "Is that something you'd like in your home?" Eddie can't nod any faster.

They talk about the budget (Eddie just scoffs at that, for the first time in his life money is not an issue), Eddie's absolute no go things ("No more vases, please! PLEASE. Also maybe the one room that can stay as it is is the studio, there's no decor"), if he has issues touching any materials, if he wants to keep any areas in the house neutral for visitors (he doesn't). Then finally, he asks Eddie if he wants to be more consulted or surprised.

And Eddie, tired and surprisingly relaxed from talking to Steve, just grins and says: "Surprise me, big boy."

Steve just smirks and makes one more note. "Oh, I will, Eddie."

...

Eddie goes on yet another tour for a couple of months, which is the ideal time for Steve to start working on the house.

Steve sometimes texts Eddie random choices, such as "Rohan or Gondor or both?" or "what's the best pub in the Middle Earth?" and Eddie usually trips over his feet trying to get to his phone after concerts to see if maybe he has another message from Steve. He learns bits and pieces about the man as well - he has a younger brother, Dustin, who is into the same stuff that Eddie is. Sometimes it goes like this:

STEVE: What's the best battle in the LotR movies?

EDDIE: The Ride of the Rohirrim, duh!

STEVE: Dustin says you're wrong, it's the last stand at the gates of Mordor.

EDDIE: The disrespect to king Théoden!

And finally, the big day comes. Eddie meets with Steve at the door. From the outside, the house still looks boring, but that's what they agreed on. At least for now.

But there's one notable difference and Eddie gasps when he sees it.

"I know we said no changes on the outside," said Steve sheepishly, "but I took the liberty to make one slight change."

Where the door used to be bland and white, it is now carved with silver etchings. It replicates the Doors of Durin. Eddie loves it.

Steve smiles at him. "Speak friend and enter, right? Dustin told me. Anyways, are you ready?"

Turns out, Eddie wasn't ready. Steve took all of the shiny and sterile surfaces and turned them into something beautiful.

The kitchen is now in warmer colors, brown and green, imitating the Green Dragon inn, plaque included.

Guest rooms have been changed, each to represent a group or a nation of the Middle Earth. Eddie thinks his uncle will love the Rohirrim one.

No more vases are to be seen, but Steve got potted plants ("almost immortal, as long as your housekeeper waters them once a week or so").

Eddie howls in laughter when he sees that Steve somehow managed to disguise all his security cameras as tiny eyes of Sauron.

The bathroom is inspired by the Rivendell, with soft tones and nods to Elvish architecture.

Eddie's bedroom resembles the Shire, with round shapes and homely motifs.

But Eddie's absolute favorite is the living room.

The only things that remain there that he bought are the massive TV and his stereo system with records. The rest though...

Gone is the ugly and sharp couch that looked like a geometry exercise. The new one is large and comfortable, with a couple of armchairs to finish the cozy feel. The coffee table and TV stand are more rough looking, with decorative ironwork. And then, around the room and on the walls...

"Oh wow," whispers Eddie and Steve beams at him.

There are collectibles and figurines that young Eddie Munson would have killed for. A replica of the Narsil hangs over the TV. It's cluttered but tasteful, still easy to clean, but Eddie always has something to touch, to play with.

And then he spots the bookcase and actually sobs. "What the fuck, Steve?" he asks, but there's no anger, just awe. "How did you know?"

The bookcase is full of Eddie's most beloved books, all that he told Steve about and more, but it's not just that. These aren't just pristine new prints - Steve managed to get both those and well-loved used copies. Most of them are the same editions that Eddie had before the earthquake. He runs his trembling finger over the back of the Hobbit and it feels like home.

"That was the hardest part," says Steve and leaves Eddie to rummage through the books, the old DnD guides and used comic books. "But I assumed you're sick of new and shiny. In fact, most of the collectibles are already used as well. They have some history. As for the books, uh..." He scratches his neck, embarrassed. "I will be honest, I don't read much. Dyslexia and some issues with the eyes, although audio books are making it more possible for me now. So I had to ask Dustin for help. We looked for editions published before the earthquake. I hope we got some of them right?"

Eddie just mutters "Sorry, I'm about to do something really unprofessional now" and pulls Steve into a bear hug. And Steve reciprocates.

"Fuck, this...this is everything," says Eddie into his shoulder. "How did you do this? Are you magic. You must be magic."

Steve grins. "I take it the surprise was a success then?"

Eddie finally pulls back. He would have loved to keep embracing Steve for a bit longer, but boundaries. "A total one. Wow. I mean. It's a lot, but so good. SO GOOD. How can I repay you?"

"You already paid me, Eddie."

"You know what I mean!" Eddie points and the books and apparently also a DVD collection he now owns. "This must have been so much more work than you normally do, no? I doubt every client has you memorize the members of the Fellowship."

"Not just that, but also why Sam is the best," Steve smiles at him and fuck. Eddie might be in love. "It was more than usual, but I loved it, Eddie. That's why I like my job so much, helping people find themselves again. You don't owe me anything. Although, if you're offering..."

"I'm listening."

Steve runs his fingers through that majestic hair. "So, I didn't tell Dustin that I was decorating the house for you, but he's a huge fan of your music. Like, massive, has every album, has been following your career from the start. And feel free to tell me it's too much, you are my client after all, but...he'd love to meet you. Over a pizza, maybe? The plain ham and cheese one you like so it doesn't have too many flavors?"

And Eddie melts. Because Steve still remembers his pizza choice from months ago, even though this definitely wasn't in his notes. He decides there and then that Steven Harrington is a national treasure.

"Sure, big boy," he smiles at Steve, and hopes he didn't imagine Steve leaning into the touch. "How about you invite him over for a movie night or something? With pizza of course."

It looks like Steve could kiss him, but he doesn't. Not yet. That only happens a week later, when they bump into each other in Eddie's kitchen when they scramble to make more popcorn for Dustin.

Steve stays the next night. And maybe a few after that. Always in a different themed bedroom.

They travel for work a lot, but when they are both in Chicago, they always meet in the Green Dragon kitchen, cuddle in the bed that would be far too large for a hobbit, and in the night, Eddie wraps himself around Steve and whispers: "My preciousssss."

And Steve can't really complain, because it's his fault that his boyfriend has re-discovered his dorkiness, so why would he mind?

#steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #steddie #steddie drabble #stranger things drabble #steddie au #steddie fanfiction #dustin henderson #lotr steddie #ish #lord of the rings steddie #not proofread we die like Boromir MY BOY #ahem this got long #Steve the redorkifier Harrington #Eddie the reemerging dork Munson

[sha-n-dowbannedlol]

Miguel O'Hara — Love Sick

a/n: i've been slaving over genetics (and biochemistry) lately, and when i was scrolling on tiktok during my break i saw this one superbat imagine and thought of writing it with my favorite geneticist

cw: uh just fluff ig, miguel o'hara is not good with feelings, miguel o'hara is emotionally constipated

You haven't always had the best of luck in your life.

It wasn't so bad that it made you hit rock bottom, but you've had your fair share of moments where you ended up drawing the shortest end of the stick in the game we all call life.

And as you stare at Peter's hand balled to a fist, and yours with two of your fingers pointed out, his hand forming a rock and yours forming scissors, you quickly conclude that this is one of those moments.

Under normal circumstances, you wouldn't put losing to Peter in rock, paper, and scissors as top 5 of the worst moments of your life; however, this is different. To explain just how different it was, we need to go back to a few minutes ago, the reason why you and Peter had to play in the first place.

Not long ago, you received an alert from the Spider-Man 2099 himself asking for backup. You didn't bother to respond as Jess had already reassured you that she's got him—as it turns out, she, in fact, does not have him when she teleported back with an unconscious Miguel draped over her shoulder.

That, in itself, is already worrying enough. But what worried you more was Lyla's report on your boss' situation, relaying the information to Miguel's inner circle of most trusted Spider-people, including you.

"He's been hit with a love potion, an incredibly potent one at that," Lyla reports, her holographic form adjusting her heart glasses and typing away on her holographic computer. "It hasn't kicked in yet, but it will the moment he wakes up," Lyla adds before looking up from her computer, disappearing and reappearing in the middle of the huddled-up spiders

"And when he does, he'll be head-over-heels in love with the first person he sees," The AI informed them in a serious tone, before grinning like the mischievous rascal she is.

"So... Who will the lucky person be?"

It has been decided amongst your group that whoever loses shall be the unfortunate soul that needs to deal with Miguel's affection until Lyla and the other Spiders have concocted an antidote for everyone's admired boss.

And now, you stare back at your hand, then at Peter's, and back at your own hand again. Silence fills Miguel's spacious office as all eyes land on you, and you can feel your cheeks already starting to warm up.

"Can't we just blindfold him?" You spoke before anyone else could, looking over at the holographic AI, who seemed a bit too pleased with the results. "Or lock him in a room or something?"

"Don't be so barbaric," Peter spoke with amusement in his voice.

"Right. Besides, it can't be that bad!" Lyla spoke, her voice with a hint of something that you can't quite put your finger on. Mischievousness? Teasing? Hinting at something she knows but you don't? You didn't know for sure.

"I think Miguel would prefer being locked in a room than being lovesick for an entire day." You respond with a sigh as Peter practically drags you toward where Miguel is currently lying unconscious, and you have no other choice but to let him.

You were a person of your word. You can't possibly back out now just because you lost.

You tense slightly as your spider sense alerts you that Miguel is starting to wake up, feet glued to the floor when he starts to stir.

"You'll be fine," Jess tried to comfort you with a poorly hidden amused smile on her face, followed by Peter patting your back, and you didn't have to turn around to sense that he'd already whipped his phone out to record the whole scene.

The whole room was tense, or perhaps it was just you. Ice ran through your veins the more Miguel moved, and you could feel everyone's eyes on you as his hand moved to rub one eye before finally, finally.

His eyes flutter open.

Ruby red irises land on your form, and you can see a hint of your reflection from his intense gaze. The first person he saw as he awoke.

He stares at you in silence, gaze glued to yours, raking over your visibly tense form as you stare back at him. His face remains neutral, and you're already bracing yourself for his affection—may it be in the form of verbal affection or physical affection.

Miguel then leans forward to sit, before slowly standing up.

You watch as he takes steps toward you, his hand already rising and about to reach out. Your heart skips a few beats, trying to beat right out of your chest to meet his own halfway.

When he was closer to you, you tense up even more, ready to be pulled into his arms...

Except... he just slipped past you.

The hand he raised earlier ran through his hair, his eyes now on Jess.

"Mission report," Miguel demanded in his usual neutral, gruff tone as everyone looked at him with jaws dropped, all dumbfounded by his casualness.

The drowsiness seems to have left Miguel by then as he looks at everyone. He raises a brow in confusion as he notices everyone's stupified expressions and Peter's phone still pointed at him as if they were expecting something from him.

"What?" He asks, brow still raised.

"That's... This isn't how it's supposed to go!" Peter was the first to speak, begrudgingly putting his phone in his robe's pocket.

"Peter, I'm already not feeling well." Miguel responds, brow scrunched as he turns to face Peter, "I have no time for your antics, and that goes for you, too." He adds, pointing towards you on the last part.

Lyla's hologram hen shows up on Miguel's shoulder, bent over and examining Miguel's face, a hand on her chin as she hums. Her boss raises his brow again at this, trying to shoo her away, only for her to keep insisting.

"You were hit with a love potion, Miguel. Quite a potent one, too." Lyla informs the man who's looking at her with a skeptical look in his eyes as she continues, "I calculated its effects would include being down bad in love with the first person you see when you regain consciousness."

Miguel blinks at that, his eyes landing on you, and you recognize the flicker of understanding in his gaze as he does before looking back to Lyla and to the disappointed Peter and the less-visibly disappointed but still very much disappointed Jess.

"Well, it didn't work." Was his simple response, which caused a groan to resound from Peter and a shake of a head from Jess.

"Come on, not even a bit?" Peter asks, looking at Miguel with narrowed eyes. "Look at them, don't you feel like pulling them into your arms and kissing them until the sun sets?"

"First off, that's highly inappropriate," Miguel responds, his hand coming up to pinch his nose bridge in between his fingers to nurse a headache already starting to come up. He says your name exasperatedly, "Please don't mind him. You know how he is."

Before Peter can voice out the offense he took to Miguel's words, Jess speaks up with curiosity and a hint of suspicion in her voice.

"But how come it didn't work?" Jess asks, her brows furrowing in confusion, looking at Miguel, whose face remained neutral despite her questioning. "Lyla was so sure it affected you, and it affected you enough that you lost consciousness, and suddenly it just... didn't have an effect?"

Miguel clears his throat at that, subtly looking to Lyla to give Jess an explanation that would sate her curiosity and make her suspicions die down, but you suddenly spoke to his rescue.

"Perhaps it has something to do with his DNA?" You infer, humming softly to yourself, "His DNA is different from ours, and most of the time, he's immune to potions and poisons because he isn't human enough to be affected by them. Right?"

Your eyes meet Miguel's as you ask for confirmation, and your breath hitches at the sheer intensity of his gaze as he looks back at you. Still, this wasn't anything new. Miguel can be kind of intense and intimidating, even if he doesn't mean to.

"Pretty much." It was Lyla who confirmed your theory on behalf of Miguel, and before anyone could speak, Miguel swiftly interjected.

"Alright, the show's over." He spoke, looking over at everyone and individually giving instructions in order to get all of you off of his back.

"Jess, I need that report before the end of the day. Peter, weren't you supposed to go home early today? Look after your pregnant wife." Miguel spoke before turning to look at you, "And you, I have a mission for you."

One by one, the three of you leave his office, with you being the last one after he briefs you on the mission with Lyla's assistance. Miguel's eyes were glued to your back as you left, much to your obliviousness.

"It worked, didn't it?" Lyla coos suddenly, snapping Miguel out of his thoughts, making him jump slightly and snap his eyes from your figure and towards his holographic AI.

"What worked?" Miguel tried to feign innocence, looking away from Lyla as he turned toward his many screens.

"The Love Potion. It worked." Lyla continues to tease him, grinning at him knowingly as she lays on her stomach in the air, kicking her feet. "You're just so in love with them already that it didn't make a difference."

Miguel remained silent for a while at her teasing words, but the reddish tint blooming on his tan cheeks was enough of an answer to the AI already. Besides, she's the one subjected to Miguel's eyes, always following you around like a lost puppy whenever you're in the room.

"If you tell anyone, I'm shutting you down."

"No, you're not."

".....No, I'm not."

#miguel o'hara x reader #miguel ohara x reader #miguel ohara x you #miguel ohara imagine #miguel ohara #miguel o'hara #spiderman 2099 #spider man: across the spider verse #spider man across the spider verse x reader #atsv miguel #atsv x reader

[placeinthemiddleofnowhere]

All I wanna do is go the distance

Pairing: König x Reader

Summary: You’re determined to find out why everyone thinks König is so scary, afterall he’s just some guy that’s taller than most people right? He’s probably harmless! Well, he’s a little scary, but you still like him anyway.

(No use of y/n or mention of gender/race)

AN: Hey guys, I'm super excited to give you guys this next chapter 💕 I have big things planned hehe

I would reccommend reading this oneshot, but as I am not jon favreau, you don't have to read extra stuff I make to understand the main stuff. Enjoy 😈

Part 7 of A Rocky Start - Full Masterlist Here

-☠️-

It had taken a few weeks for your head to get completely right again after the concussion. On some days you worried that you’d never get through the fluorescent infested hallways of the base without jamming your fists in your eyes ever again. Sometimes you’d catch Price staring at you with those concerned world weary eyes of his in the worst moments, when the headaches were screaming outwards, bursting through your skull. Though with enough time, and a lot of pain killers, the pain died down and dulled until you were completely back to normal.

It was a good thing too. For one, getting Price off your back while you were continuing to sneak around with König was a must, being under the microscope was only making the head trouble all the worse. And for another, which you were sometimes shocked to think was the secondary reason, you’d been going on more and more missions again as the 141 and KorTac got ever closer to tracking down Rousseau. Things were getting tense now, Ghost had been falling under a lot of pressure to perform and his temper was all over the place. Oftentimes you’d be the lucky one that had to chase him and calm him down.

In the months and missions after you’d come back you’d put away three of Rousseau’s men behind bars, including a very high level man that acted as his consigliere. Apparently he’d been worked on quite a bit since his capture. 141 weren’t privy to the intimate details of course, that was up to the CIA and KorTac, but as far as you’d all been told he’d given over a wealth of information on Rousseau’s location and even some limited blueprints of his hideout. 

Price had told you all in advance that intelligence would be confirming your next mission in a matter of days, so you should all stick close to the base. You were actually getting ready for an upcoming training exercise, Rousseau’s man revealing the details on his base meant that command were adamant that you did a run through first and came up with a successful strategy for the big boss’ take down. 

Luckily for you, because of the stay close order, that meant more time in your little airbnb paradise. The place was starting to feel like home. You were both etching yourselves into the apartment, carving your living narratives into it. 

You could identify marks where König had been clumsy and dropped things or scuffed his boots against the wall. There was a tiny stain on the couch from where you’d come and sat after a mission. Lastly, but not least of all, was the curtain that had been sneakily stitched up to the railing after you and König had accidentally pulled it off several of its hooks when you’d grabbed it a little too enthusiastically one night. And on top of it all was the lingering smell of the room spray you’d bought a few weeks into renting the place, preferring the smell of ‘violet rain’ over the faint notes of tobacco that clung to the walls from other renters.

Sometimes you and König even liked to tell each other ‘see you back at the house’. It was becoming all so humdrum to you both.

You smiled as you glanced over at König one night, ruminating over your little routine. The warmth of you could’ve lifted the apartment into the air. It just felt so good to know that you had something that was yours, something that wasn’t your job, something that wasn’t a material thing, you had a life with König. It was most apparent to you when you watched him, when he was free of his hood and his armour and plates and he lay on the bed on his phone, unburdened from rules and duty. He undressed himself from the myth and lay comfortably as König the man, lounging in his boxers and T-shirt like any boyfriend would act with their partner.

Though that night, his brows were knit together in concentration and his lips were pursed, he was adamant that he be left alone for a minute to do whatever it was that he was doing. It intrigued you because he was rarely so mysterious, normally he’d tell you if it was a work thing, but this time he just waved you off and told you not to be nosy. That being the case, you were watching him closely trying to see if he’d give you any hints or signs of what was so captivating on that screen of his.

“I can feel those doe eyes burning a hole into me,” he chuckled, finally gracing you with his attentions.

“Can you blame me? You’re being all suspicious,” you shrugged, tilting your head a little to see if he’d explain himself.

“I’m not being suspicious, I just asked for some quiet.”

“You said ‘Sneaky, I have something I need to do, but don’t look’ and then when I asked if it was work stuff you said no. That - is suspicious.”

“Well it gave you an excuse to imitate me, so that’s something isn’t it,” he scoffed. 

“Well, you know I do it so well,” you grinned, watching with delight as he rolled his eyes.

“I wouldn’t say that.”

“I wouldn’t say that,” you repeated, feeling as if you were copying him perfectly. 

“If you think that’s how I sound then I'm surprised you have any kind of attraction to me,” he laughed.

“Well some days are a struggle more than others, but-”

You weren’t given the chance to finish your sentence, he’d forgotten all about his phone and thrown it from his lap, launching himself at you faster than any RPG you’d seen. In a matter of seconds you were pinned to the bed and fighting for your life, tears pouring from your eyes as he tickled you and trapped you underneath his annoyingly unyielding legs. 

“What happened to the Sneaky that cried when I told them that I was bullied for my accent in school, hm? Now you’re making fun of me? I’ve got to say, that hurts me Sneak,” he said, an overdramatic fake upset lacing his tone. “You deserve every bit of this!”

You cried out and tried to protest, making a grab for his hands, but were merely shoved away when you made any kind of headway in distracting him. You wriggled and squirmed and screamed, but it was all for nothing. There was no way to make him stop until he wanted to.

“Kö- K…König, please!” you yelped, struggling to breathe. “Enough!”

You were beginning to feel like a struggling furnace as you endured his torture. Your lungs were burning from their failing efforts and you only screamed more as you grew tired of trying to fight back. The second he finally stopped his assault, you gasped in a huge lungful of air and laid back, groaning as you looked up at the blaring lights overhead and registered your sweaty forehead. 

“Remind me not to bully you again,” you sighed, finally finding your voice again.

“Mhmm. I tell you all the time, but you just always insist on being so mean to me regardless,” he chuckled, unhooking his legs from your sides.

König came to rest beside you and tucked a stray strand of hair back in its place. His eyes scanned over your heaving chest and he laughed as he watched you attempt to struggle into a sit. Nevertheless you managed to wobble yourself upwards on the shaky mattress and looked down at him, then over to his forgotten phone. 

“Will you do that again if I try to ask what you were doing so suspiciously on your phone?”

“There’s only one way to find out,” he smiled.

His new favourite line. The way he said it, it always had the undertones of a threat, but it was never said outright maliciously. König could affect his voice with so much masked intent it would have your head spinning sometimes trying to work out what he’d do next. Sometimes you’d get lost thinking about how long he’d practised that. The unfortunate people that had come across his path and challenged him, ending up with a far worse fate than just your tickling. Though you never liked to dwell on it for long. 

“What were you suspiciously doing on your phone, König?” you said, pulling yourself out of your thoughts before you got too sucked in. 

“Well, if you must know…” he trailed off and made a jump toward you, pretending he was going to attack again.

“No! No, no, no! Not again,” you cried out, leaping away from the bed. 

You made a mental note to thank Soap and Ghost one day, all their messing with you had made you quick on your feet. Instinctively, you threw your hands up ready to fight and narrowed your eyes, watching his every movement like a hawk. König remained on the bed though and sat up, laughing and shaking his head to himself as he picked up his phone again and scrolled through it. 

“Please, Sneaky, you really think I’m going to be threatened by those fists?” he tutted, not even looking at you as you remained in your defensive stance. “Put them away and come sit down.”

“These hands have killed people!” you defended.

“Yes, I know that, you’re a good soldier.”

“Exactly, so you should be threatened,” you retorted.

“If I was anyone else, sure. You’d never hurt me though,” he said, looking up from his phone with a smug grin. “I’m your boyfriend after all.”

You felt your cheeks heat up and immediately covered your face in your hands. Every little bit of you was drowning in the feeling of your thundering heart.

König didn’t much care for that particular title, he usually preferred to say partner, but he knew how it made you feel and he weaponised it as much as he possibly could. Knowing that he was all yours still scattered the butterflies in your stomach and you always felt like a little kid in the face of his teasing. You couldn’t help that him being officially yours still got you so excited.

“Are you ever going to stop using that against me?” you mumbled, finally coming to sit by him.

“No. I like watching you get flustered,” he chuckled. “It’s very cute.”

Before you could protest anymore though, he slung his arm around your waist and pulled you in for a kiss, softly releasing all the fight you had left with his teasing lips and tongue. You were locked together for a few moments and sighed contentedly when he broke away, pressing your head to his shoulder and feeling ready to sink down into the bed with him. 

Though it wasn’t time for that yet.

“Would you like me to show you what I’ve been working on?”

You opened your eyes and faced him again, watching his nervous smile grow. Seeing him look so sheepish re-sparked your curiosity and you nodded, ready to see what it was. He hurriedly entered his password and the screen flashed open, landing on the homepage screen with a shot of you both from one of your photobooth pictures from an impromptu date months before, before your concussion. Pictures he was adamant that he couldn’t let you keep because he had to protect his image, even if he was wearing his half mask at the time. As if he was somehow a much better secret keeper than you.

You smirked at the memory of all the playful bickering you’d done over those photos and shook your head, eyeing the screen again as König brought up his tabs. He clicked onto the latest one and it opened onto a confirmation email. It wasn’t what you’d expected, not that you were sure of what you even were expecting. As you read it you raised your brows and looked up at him, wondering what was happening. 

“This is a confirmation email for renting a hire car from some company in Austria,” you stated. 

“Some company has a name,” he retorted. 

“I’m not going to insult you by trying to pronounce that.”

“I see you’re restraining yourself now,” he laughed. “Well yes, it is a hire car confirmation for a cheap company in Vienna.”

“And you’re hiring a car in Vienna because?”

“Because, in a few months time, I’m taking you to Austria. Now, wait! Before you protest, I’ve thought it all out and you don’t need to worry about explaining any passport stamps to Price. I’ve found us flights to Slovakia and a train that can take us from Bucharest into Vienna, and from there I can take you around to see the country for a few days.”

He hastily explained himself and you smiled as you watched his hurried hand movements, his body in a flurry of motion. It was particularly fun to see him turn his hand into, what you figured, was a high speed train. He looked at you seriously as he finished, waiting in a suspended state of worry to see what you’d say. 

As if you’d disappoint him. 

“You sat and booked all that just for us?”

“Of course. I’ve really wanted to take you for a while now, so when you said you had time booked off and the higher ups indicated this mission will be coming to a close soon...I thought, this is the time. So what do you say? Will you come with me?”

“Obviously! I’m so excited, I can’t believe it. I’m getting to go on holiday with my Boyfriend,” you laughed, this time making yourself squeal. “It's gonna be so good! We’re gonna eat so much good food and see so many cool places and oh-  I wanna see those mountains you were talking about! Can we go?”

“We will see the mountains, yes. I’ve put time aside for that,” he laughed.

“You’ve planned the whole trip already?” you asked incredulously. 

“Sneaky I’ve been planning this for weeks,” he smiled. “I just finished the last arrangements there. I want to keep most of it a surprise, but…I actually have one thing on there that I need to ask you about before we go though.”

“Oh?”

He pursed his lips again and looked away before looking back to you. 

“I was wondering if you’d like to go out to Burgenland? To my mothers house.”

Your heart skipped a beat and somehow you managed to reach new levels of excitement. Meeting König’s mum meant a lot more to him that it did for most people. It came with a lot more meaning. Meeting König’s mum meant that he was accepting you as part of his family, it meant that he wanted you to know more of his annoyingly buried secrets. It meant that he’d have to tell you his name. 

It’s not like his own mother would call him König. 

It had been a sore subject for a little while. The cause of your only serious fights so far. You’d pushed to know a couple times, complaining that he wasn’t letting you in and that it was ridiculous that you were a couple and you wouldn’t even know what to call him  if anything should happen. Something could happen to him out in the field and all you’d know is a codename, he could be taken away from you and you’d never know who he was. 

Of course König argued that that was ridiculous and you knew more than almost anyone knew about him - excluding his mum of course. He claimed that his name was just a burden, that it was just something that would give people an excuse to take from you. Though you argued about that as well, if someone wanted to hurt you to get to him then they’d do it anyway. It didn’t matter if they believed you knew his true identity or not. 

The last time you’d gone almost hysterical because the whole thing was so silly to you. The little airbnb walls felt like they were going to go flying with all the verbal mortars being thrown, like you were going to be swept up like something from the wizard of Oz. You’d both bickered back and forth, forming a dark comedy sketch, two squeaky little cartoon characters that were on the verge of strangling each other as you both held your ground.

“Why does it matter if I know! You keep saying people will come for me, and that it's more dangerous to know you, but it's not that. I know it's not that! Otherwise you wouldn’t be seen with me, you wouldn’t have let me come this close. You just can’t face that all your walls would have to come down. You just don’t want to let me in.”

“It is dangerous to know who I am, how many times must I list the reasons? But you know what, fine, you’re right.You win! I’d love to let you in fully, but yes I am afraid of letting you close! Even though you have no idea how much you’ve taken already. I’ve given you more of me than anyone else has ever gotten, even while it’s been hard. You have no idea how hard all this is for me.”

“Hard for You? I’m in a relationship with someone that won’t tell me their name!”

 “Because it's the last thing I have to protect myself! If you leave me, what then? You could decide you want out of all this complication and find someone nice and simple and then where would I be? You’d have taken everything from me.”

“What am I taking from you? Knowing who you are is not taking anything from you König. Besides, I’m not leaving you. Why do you think I’m so hell bent on trying to find someone else when I spend all my time jeopardising my job just to be here with you? You think I like facing down Price knowing that he’d turn on me if he knew what I got up to in my spare time? I put the respect of someone that I deeply care about on the line, just so that I can be with you and you’re acting like I’m ready to run off at the first chance!”

“Because you’ve done it before!”

“That’s not fair and you know it.”

König may as well have turned and stuck a ten foot spear through your heart. You’d felt a tide of tears wash up in your eyes and you’d walked away from him then, not willing to let him see how much he’d hurt you. Not that that was an option. From his widened eyes alone, you knew that he’d known it was a mistake to dredge up old wounds, his sparkling blue irises dimming as he lost his self conviction. 

“Wait! Hold on, I’m sorry.”

König raced up to you and stopped you in your tracks. His strong arms wrapped around you fast and held you snugly against his chest as pathetic droplets of tears streaked your burning cheeks. You didn’t bother trying to free yourself from him. You just whimpered and clung to him as he shushed you and apologised for what he’d said, kissing your dampened face like it was nothing.

“I’m so sorry. What I just said was stupid. Will you please come sit with me for a moment… I have something I want to tell you.” 

A flare of anger and rebellion flared in you for a second. It was stamped out immediately, but just for a moment you wanted to storm off and tell him that if he wanted to keep you from knowing him then he’d done a great job - that that was it. Though, you couldn’t bring yourself to follow through. Even when you hated him at that moment, you couldn’t bear to see him upset again. You knew that you’d hurt him badly already that day you’d run from him in the park outside the base, you knew that you couldn’t bring yourself to do that again. 

“Ok,” you’d sniffled.

He’d sighed and taken you to the couch, sitting across from you after propping you up against your favourite fluffy pillow. You held onto it with one of your hands, losing yourself in its soft textures as you threaded your fingers through it. König watched you play with the loose strands for a second before looking you in the eyes, his face a perfect picture of remorse. 

“You didn’t really run away from me, that was silly of me to say.”

“I did run from you though, I ran from you that day you tried to explain yourself after the mission” you frowned, not able to help your crackling feebly. “You were  right, I can’t act like I haven’t given you reasons to be wary.”

“No. You didn’t leave me then though. You agreed to work through things and I suppose that’s what we’ve been doing…with mixed results,” he said, laughing dryly. “You haven’t really given me reason to be like this. This is what has happened after years of keeping people out and I suppose…I’m just having a hard time adjusting to what it feels like to let someone in.”

“I know. I know that really,” you sighed. “It's just hard sometimes because sometimes it feels like things are as they should be, like everything we have is so normal. Then I snap back to reality and there’s all this stuff with work where we have to pretend to hate each other and then we have missions that don’t line up and we don’t get to speak, like not even a phone call a lot of the time. Then there’s this intrusive voice I have over it all saying- well saying ‘you don’t even know his name, what is it we really even have together’ and I know its ridiculous and we care about each other and I should ignore it all-”

“It’s not ridiculous,” König soothed. “I feel the strain of these things too.”

He leaned forward then and grabbed your hands, making you jump as you were taken out of worrying at the pillow. His calloused fingers rubbed against yours and his warm grip kept you grounded into reality. The scars that scraped up the backs of his arms jumped up at you in the warmth of the yellow lights, his whole body a patchwork of battered skin. You traced your eyes from his rough hands and arms, up to his bobbing adam's apple and to the depths of his ocean eyes and worried face.

König’s jaw was tensed and he breathed as he worked up to what he was going to say. Your own breath was held then, lungs burning as you waited for him to speak.

“Other people have let me down in the past. My mother moved us to Germany for a manipulative piece of shit that hated me and looked to rid himself of me at every opportunity. I grew up with few friends, in a country that wasn’t mine, and fought so hard for so long that I didn’t know how to be vulnerable. I met a woman after I was forced to join the army that told me I was a hollow shell of a man, and that no one should have to be sentenced to dealing with me…There’s times I’ve agreed with her too, I’ve moved through life feeling like half a person some days. Then I met you. None of what I’ve told you is any excuse to treat you badly, but sometimes I’m so set in my distrust that I can’t let myself cross the lines I need to be able to get to where you are….And- and for you…I’m working on crossing those lines, because you’re the only person I’d ever want to give myself to, but for now its a slow process. You’ve seen my full face, we’ve made love and I have given you almost everything that I can give you for right now. All of this is to say…well - to ask - if you would give me a little more time and allow me to keep working on things with you.”

Listening to him then, as his voice crackled and wavered with emotion, was so very difficult. He kept a hold of your hands the whole time, his fingers shaking as he went on. His whole body looked ready to crumble as he explained himself.

Though before he could be brought down by everything you leaned over and held him, winding your arms around him as tightly as they would go. You hugged him close for the rest of the night and whispered to each other in the darkness when you went to bed, giving your affirmations, like a secret promise, that everything would be ok. 

As you thought back to that night, your body shook with an icy cold shock of frisson. You didn’t want to go through that again. 

“I would love to meet your mum, König,” you said softly, swallowing as you tried to tactfully avoid another horrific argument. “Does this mean…that you’ll tell me your name soon?”

He smiled knowingly at you and nodded, stroking the warm apple of your cheeks fondly. 

“I will tell you sometime soon, yes,” he confirmed, speaking warmly.

You felt a beaming smile shine brightly over your face and jumped on König, feeling full force  of excitement as things seemed to be heading in a good direction. Everything was lining up. Your mission would be done soon, you and König wouldn’t have to worry about sneaking around anymore because the taskforce would have some downtime until you were called upon again for some other earth shattering mission. After that you were going to finally learn his name. 

You sighed. It was almost too good to be true. 

“You just gotta promise me one thing,” you said, shifting your tone seriously. 

“What?” he asked, breaking away from your hug so that he could look at you properly. 

“If it’s something ridiculous you have to prepare me in advance.”

He rolled his eyes and groaned, falling comically backwards onto the couch. 

“I’m being serious,” you laughed. “If it’s something crazy like Wolfgang or Ferdinand I need to be prepared!”

“Do you really think that that’s what Austrian people are called?” he giggled.

“I have no idea! This is what I’ve been saying, I could see your passport in a few months time and could be having to fight myself not to laugh!”

“You would really laugh at my name if you thought it was silly?” he snorted. 

“All I can promise that I’ll try not to,” you grinned, crossing your hands over your heart while he stared back at you with a displeased glare. “All I’m saying is that if I see something mad I can’t be held accountable for my actions.”

He rolled his eyes again and sighed dramatically, throwing his hands up into the air. 

“I can’t believe I’m being lectured on silly names by someone called ‘Sneaky’.”

“Hey!”

-☠️- 

When Price called you all in the next day, nothing could’ve prepared you for the shitstorm that was going to ensue. Though you were feeling the full force of it as you stood in the darkened labyrinth of the warehouse that had been set up to emulate Rousseau’s hideout. The 141 and KorTac had been told to find the best way to clear the base and get to Rousseau, but the problem was that you were taking too long and being overwhelmed by too many of Price’s fake men. There were just so many rooms that were connected to other rooms and it meant that a lot of men could get by each other undetected. It was a nightmare.

You’d run through the exercise around eight times already and the more that Price was making you reset, the more tension was being put on the team. It was only a matter of time till someone snapped. Although, given their quick temper and worn down attitude in the last few months, you were sure of who that person was going to be the entire time. 

In the latest reset, you stood next to one of the floppy wooden walls and bit your tongue, watching on with fear as Ghost marched up to König and got in his face. They were almost mask to mask, eye to eye as Ghost took what little gap there was between them and cinched it tight. You felt every little notch in the wood then, backing yourself into it just so that you could force yourself not to get yourself in trouble by intervening.

“Stop fucking around you useless pile of shitting cloth!”

ouch.

“You’re blaming me for the reset?” König scoffed, squaring up his shoulders. “If you would stop lagging through the hallways and would get them cleared properly, then we might be able to get through one of these attempts successfully, Lieutenant.” 

“It was your bright idea to split off with Soap and Gaz and leave us with Horangi. So far it’s been nothing but problems with you and your team rushing and getting hasty and now I’m done. We’re doing it my way again. Slow and methodical. Like it or lump it, king cunt.”

“Problems aren’t from me going too fast, they’re occurring because your team isn't clearing the halls properly, Ghost. I need Soap because Fender is out of the country, I need someone to blow the doors so I can breach plus the extra cover. Your idea failed five times already, why don’t we try to execute mine properly, hm?”

“I’ll fucking show you an execution, König!”

Ghost rammed König and sent him back peddling into the wall you were leaning against with heavy thud. You were sent flying forward as the wood bounced and watched as it rattled with the men’s efforts to take each other down.

It was like watching two stags lock horns, they were grabbing onto each other furiously and neither man seemed to want to let the other go. König swung his fist and Ghost dodged. Ghost tried to knock König unbalanced with a kick, and only succeeded in almost sticking his boot through the cheap chipboard.  

The rest of you watched on helplessly. There was very little anyone of you could do to pull the two titans off of each other -  Not if you didn’t want to get taken out of action in the process. 

“Right! That’s enough boys!” 

Price’s voice echoed through the warehouse, powerful and commanding as it sailed through the air like a brick. It smashed through the two fighters and in a matter of seconds König and Ghost were standing to attention, looking up at Price from his spot on the balcony. The blue light of the warehouse shone starkly against the white in Ghost’s mask, but it failed to stick on the inky black of König’s hood. 

“I appreciate that its been a long day gentlemen, but that doesn’t mean you get the luxury of turning into little school boys that can’t contain their fucking tantrums!” Price bellowed, continuing to reset the temperature. “König, stop pushing so hard when the others are still trying to clear the rooms on the left side. Ghost, work faster and spread your team out. Reset and do it again!”

The Captain’s word was final. Even at the height he stood, illuminated by a few bulbs that flickered like burnt orange like cigarettes, you saw that he was in no mood to be argued with. He’d stood watch for all of the attempts and with every one that failed he grew more and more dissatisfied as your joint teams disintegrated into in-fighting. 

Well, that wasn’t going to be a problem on this attempt. Not unless anyone was in the mood to invoke Price’s wrath. 

All you marched off without another word, dragging your feet as you made your way back to the start point. Ghost was glaring so hard at König it seemed like all of you were staying purposefully clear of his path; attempting to avoid the crossfire. Soap and Gaz grunted a few words of annoyance toward each other on the way, but luckily you all made it in one piece.

A few tense moments proceeded to ebb slowly by. The clatter of doors and scrape of fallen soldiers and obstacles being reset was echoing throughout the building, the heavy breaths of men around you intermingled and all too eerily you began to feel like you were in the belly of a beast. It certainly appeared that way to your eyes, you couldn’t see much through the darkness. You’d have to position your night vision down again. 

In the briefing before training, when you’d had the blueprints and locations revealed to you, you’d been told that your guys would be able to cut the power beforehand. They were sending your two teams in while Price waited with another team on standby. That way if Rousseau tried to make a clever escape, Price would be there to close in on him while you rid his headquarters of his followers.

All of it was easier said than done though apparently.

“If we fuck this up again I’m going home. Fuck the dessertion charges, prison’s better than this,” Gaz muttered.

“If we fuck this up again,” Ghost growled in disbelief. “You mean If your team fuck it up, Garrick.”

“Aw, putting the blame on us, LT?” Soap chuckled. “You’re so sweet. Maybe it's me just looking to spend a little more time with you.”

His laugh still held a little humour in it, even for all the torture you’d all been through. Although he knew for a fact that he had nothing to do with it. It was his big lumbering steam train of a teammate that couldn’t be let off so easily. 

It was true what Price said, he had been moving too quickly. König was frustrated. Somehow, despite not even being able to see him most of the time, and at times just barely through the green haze of your goggles, you could tell he was finally feeling the strain of working with your team. He was getting antsy and forceful, trying to power through so that he could escape the stifling atmosphere that the other men created for him.

You wanted to tell him he’d only make it worse by prolonging the day. Though it wouldn’t have been a good idea to speak to him then - not with Ghost feeling the way he was. 

“If we spend any more time down here you’ll all be wishing for a nice cosy jail cell by the time I’m done,” Ghost spat. 

You flickered your eyes over to König and held your breath. He looked like he desperately wanted to make a comment on the situation, his eyes were narrowing in a familiar way, the kind of look he got when he was about to fight a point. You silently begged him to stand down and cast a wary glance over at Horangi, hoping he’d stop his friend from doing anything dumb.

Though in the end it didn’t matter. Price interjected before König could air his thoughts, entering the scene like a benevolent god shouting from above. 

“Alright. Begin again in 5…4…3…2…and…”

The warehouse descended into complete darkness, all lights were off and it was just you and your two teams, huddled together in the lonely gloom. Ghost silently gestured for you all to get moving and with the rehearsed speed of a broadway play, you filed into two teams and braced as Soap got the first charge ready. 

You drew in a breath and felt your heart thudding in your chest, it made you tighten your grip on your gun as every booming beat cracked out like thunder. You swallowed and scanned your eyes through the green fog, watching bleary eyed as Soap set the first charge. You looked away and hunched your shoulders, already tensing for the first explosion. 

The door broke away and the charge sounded off with a dull boom, soon enough your teams were ‘firing’ on your fake enemy with your fake rounds. The guns clacked and clicked in a foreign kind of way and instead of screaming or disappearing in a spray they took a moment to notice the hits and would drop to the ground like seasoned actors. 

Even despite that all though, the adrenaline felt all too real. The soldiers were growing smarter smarter, even hindered by the darkness,they had begun to forsee your oncoming attacks and fought back twice as hard as before now that they'd seen your strategy a few times. It was taking longer and longer to clear the first room. 

Nevertheless, determined to stay in the exercise and take it through to its bitter end. You kept down behind Ghost and shot out at the hostiles, doing your duty and hoping it would be enough. Luckily for you the men fell after trading a couple rounds of fire.

“Horangi, stay on me. Sneak when I say the word I want you to move up ahead to the first room on the left. Horangi and I will cover you while you clear it and block the entrance on the otherside,” Ghost ordered. 

“Copy that,” you responded, also hearing Horangi sound off similarly. 

König had moved up already, but rather than have Soap and Gaz blow the next door, they were all taking cover and helping your team with the oncoming flood of men. Even as two separate teams you were now united in a common purpose - to improve the strategy and ensure you’d never be put through the exercise again. 

Most of you hated having to do those sessions, rehearsing for the main event. After All It’s not like you can account for everything that can happen when the real mission goes live. Its not like the men would be expecting you like the hapless new recruits, that was only natural as you reset the mission for the ninth time in a row.

With that in mind, you kept your gun in your hands like it was superglued to you and marched on, following through with Ghost’s plan as he directed you forward. You gulped and sprinted toward the room, taking cover behind the door and angling your head so that you could spot the men that were spraying heavy fire just inches from where you stood. You blinked and took a breath, reminding yourself that you had the edge. You had night vision. 

In a flash you whirled around and took out one of the men closest to you, diving behind a desk before anyone else could get to you. Already marking out your next target, you were relieved when you spotted Ghost in your peripheral and shot up.

“Support pillar, LT!” you shouted, marking out your ‘kill’. 

Ghost acknowledged you and directed his gun toward the other two, and soon enough you were standing in an empty room, listening to the fire outside. Though you weren’t done, you hustled over to the entrance on the other side and tipped a desk over the doorway, making entry very difficult. Then seconds later another explosion went off and Ghost signalled for you to follow him, covering the rear of team König. 

“On me, team!”

Horangi and you followed Ghost as closely as possible, heeding his every command as you cleared the rest of the rooms with slow and steady precision. König battered down every door with Soap’s help and with he and Gaz ploughing forward, you were able to keep watch of the rear as more men crawled out of the woodwork in an attempt to surprise you. 

Even with the fake ammo your blood was pumping around your body like white water rapids and your breathing came fast and heavy. The clack of the guns and the sound of feet scrabbling against the crumbly warehouse floors were echoing around your head and before long you were beginning to feel wired, could feel your body shake as you grew ever closer to the end. This was it. An escape from the labyrinth and the endless blurry green of the night vision goggles.

“Ready?” König asked, standing prone at the last door.

Ghost and Horangi took out a couple of stragglers, and once they were down and static silence was ringing all around you, König was given the go ahead.

“One last door and then we’re home free, Gazzy,” Soap grinned, setting the door to blow. 

“Yeah yeah, just blow the door, Soap,” Ghost growled.

The last breach felt strong enough to shake the ground you were standing on. Though you’d concede that by the time the charge went off, you were starting to shiver a little. You were full of anticipation, ready to sit down and get some rest before the actual mission. A good night’s sleep was within your grasp. 

Once that door swung out, you’d realised that you’d never been so relieved to see a potential hostage. 

The new recruit made a mighty effort to mimic Rousseau, he tried to go down fighting and raised his gun at you all. Though with six people on him he didn’t have a chance. All of you shrank back from his shots while he attempted to flee, though when you noticed that the recruits back was turning to run, you took your chance and barrelled toward him. 

With every ounce of strength that was left in your body you tackled the man to the ground, landing softly on his thick padding - something Rousseau definitely wouldn’t have when it came time to dive on him. Even with your body protesting, exacerbated limbs crying out for a break, you wrestled his gun from his hands and pinned them to the ground. Fake Rousseau had nowhere to go after that, he was stuck below your body even as you heaved out heavy breaths and soon was surrounded by the rest of your team.

At long last it was game over. 

“Alright, very good team,” Price’s voice called, “You can take off the night vision and we’ll turn the lights up.”

You were all too eager to follow Price’s command. You whipped the goggles up and looked around in the sheer darkness for a moment until the blue lights faded on and were then chased up by the stark flicker of the overhead lights. 

Everyone was blinking hard, adjusting to the brilliance and grimacing as you all looked around the grotty old warehouse with new eyes. When it was set up with low lighting there was something very intimidating about the training area, though now that you looked at it in the new light you couldn’t help but compare it to waking up the morning after a one night stand. 

The chip boards looked floppy and pathetic and the huge towering walls beyond your little simulated maze were covered in warning signs and caution notices. The mirage had cleared, and finally you could look up at Price properly, settling your strained eyes on his terse expression.

“Much better. That’s the sort of performance I expect from you lot, and that’s what I want when we launch tomorrow. Get yourselves cleaned up and get ready to meet in the hanger for oh-four hundred. You’re all dismissed.”

-☠️- 

“Fucking Training exercises.”

You lumbered behind Ghost and made your way to the bathrooms, getting ready to wash up with the rest of the team, hearing bed calling out to you sweetly before your early start. Soap and Gaz were unsuaully quiet, meanwhile König and Horangi were their usual type of quiet. Ghost wasn’t satisfied with that though, he was muttering to himself and stomping down the hallway like a man about to fly himself off to Rousseau and end the mission himself.

“At least it’s over now,” you sighed. 

“Would’ve been over a long time ago if we hadn’t started improvising with the hired help,” Ghost groused.

“How many times, Ghost. We tried your plan and we failed, we worked mine out and we passed,” König growled. “Doesn’t matter how many times you whine about it, the plan worked and that’s all that matters.”

“Is it? Is that all that matters?”

“Yes. We all wanted out and now we’re out. Job done,” König groaned. “What else is there to bitch about?”

“It’s not bitching when I have legitimate concerns about letting a private contractor shit all over my team’s dynamic and split us up!”

“What dynamic is that? The one where you get them all killed?”

Ghost flew toward König again, except this time none of you were allowing it. You, Gaz and Soap leapt toward your Lieutenant while Horangi acted as a barrier, keeping a steady hand on König’s flaring chest. All of you struggled as Ghost threatened to explode, but in a matter of seconds he calmed enough to see he wasn’t going to be allowed his revenge and broke away, grumbling that he’d leave it. 

König watched the exchange between you all and laughed to himself, the little titter escaping the thick fabric of his hood even as he tried to keep it soft. You glared over at him, not appreciating his antagonising just as you’d managed to get a grip of Ghost, though he rolled his eyes at you and walked off. 

Only when he was around the corner did you finally feel it was fit to let Ghost have it.

“What the fuck was that, LT?”

“What do you mean what the fuck was that?” he growled.

The way Ghost looked at you, the way his eyes glinted like he was settling on a new target, normally would’ve had you crumbling like brittle harling in a storm but you were resolute in your mission. You straightened your shoulders and walked up to him, not letting the disappointment fade from your face. 

In your periphery, you caught your fellow teammates giving you a shared look of fear. Soap and Gaz more than made up for what you lacked in that moment, but you ignored them keeping your mind focused completely on Ghost. 

“Price cleared the op to run just as we practised it there, just as it was successfully run and you want to have a go at König because he happened to make a valid suggestion?”

“I’m not having a go, I’m pissed that we’re taking orders from paid guns that shouldn’t even be here in the first place! This was supposed to be our mission, Price assembled our taskforce back together all to take down Rousseau and what happens? The government get involved with KorTac and suddenly we have to play nice with money grubbing slime balls. It’s all not right, Sneaky, and I won’t sit by and take it!”

“It might not be right, but it's the situation we’re in. You might not like König, and things have been…not ideal with all thats happened, but like it or not he made a good call and Price recognised it for what it was.”

Ghost grunted and was about to fire back another load of verbal ammunition, though Soap interjected before he could say anything else.

“Sneak’s right, Ghost. If they’re telling you to let the König thing go, then let it go. Sneak has the most right out of anyone to be pissed about König calling the shots, and they’re not. Fuck sake, Ghost, even Price hates the man. If Price likes his plan, then its a good plan.”

You raised your brows, surprised at seeing Soap opposing Ghost for once. He walked over to you and stood shoulder to shoulder, holding the giant back as he teetered on the verge of a rampage. The warmth of Soap brought a calm to your bones and now that you knew you had someone else supporting you, you let out a breath you’d barely been aware of holding. 

You so rarely had to butt heads with your Lieutenant, you’d never get used to the feeling. Your bones felt like they were rattling with the energy it required.

“You don’t have to worry about the team dynamic, Ghost,” you continued, hoping to expel the last of his anger. “In fact arguing with König is more of an issue than anything that he or any of KorTac can do. We get through this mission and take down Rousseau, then KorTac will leave and we can get back to our jobs until the 141 is called on again. If we fuck this up then we’ll be dealing with losses and we’ll have to keep working with them. We just need to get through this and its done…ok?”

Ghost sighed and cast his eyes down to the floor. Silence reigned for a few beats, but eventually he looked back up and eyed you and Soap and Gaz who’d moved to your other side. The blue in his darkened irises could’ve been swamp water with the way they’d been tainted with frustration. Though even with all of his anger at the situation, he had visibly sagged as he recognised he was looking at things wrong.

“You’re right,” he grunted, rubbing his head and furling up his mask. “I’ll go apologise and see if I can’t get through the rest of our time together without murdering the bastard. Like you say, Sneak - not long till he fucks off.”

With that he left to go slink down the hall and catch König, still grumbling to himself even as he retreated. You and the rest of 141 laughed as he turned the corner and eyed each other, smiles slowly spreading across your mouths as if you’d just turned up to a mad hatters tea party. A moment of euphoria shared as you thanked your lucky stars that Ghost didn’t go Godzilla on all of you before he carried on with murdering König just as he’d said.

Though a small part of you still worried for your boyfriend. You’d winced a little when Ghost insulted him, but on the other side of the coin, you realised that with the mission coming to a close soon you’d be able to stop the obligatory concerns that came with König being on base. Soon you could carry on with your illicit affair and not worry one bit that Price would be any the wiser. What you can’t see can’t hurt you, right?

“Thought for sure ma neck was gonna get snapped there,” Soap chuckled.

“I know, I was picturing being the next skull he wore,” Gaz laughed, his nervousness expelled in a low rasp. “Fuck, Sneak. Next time you want to go on a crusade, give us a bit of warning.”

“I’d have loved to have given myself warning,” you snorted, still in disbelief you’d stood up to Ghost. “It just came out of me out of nowhere. If anyone was getting scalped there, it was gonna be me.”

“Well…at the very least, thank jesus,” Soap smirked, “Ghost listened rather than wringing yer little brass neck. But you know what, Sneaky? Next time you decide to have a brave moment like that, leave us the fuck out of it!”

“Yeah, let us get out of the blast radius first, and then go at him,” Gaz laughed, slapping your shoulder. 

With that they both walked off to the showers together and you rolled your eyes, following after them so that you weren’t hanging around the hallway by yourself. Your weary boots slapped against the floors and you continued to joke as you rounded the corner, feeling at ease as you got your mind focused on getting ready for the mission and the calm that would ensue after its completion. 

When you got to the changing room though, you frowned when you saw König’s things scattered. Normally he wasn’t one for throwing things around, he was usually quite careful to pile things up. However his shirt was sprawled on the ground and his trousers were hung over the benches like a set of bowlegs straddling a horse. Most unsettling of all was when you’d glanced down and saw the wooden bird you’d given him months before laying on the floor just under his upturned pockets. 

“Huh, big man must’ve been in a hurry to shower,” Soap noted.

“Probably wanted to try and hurry to avoid Ghost,” Gaz snorted. “Not that I can blame him, I’d hide from the LT too if I knew he was after me.”

You laughed along with the guys because it seemed like the thing to do, but the smile on your face dropped instantly afterward. Something wasn’t right. You gulped and looked over the mess of his clothes one last time and bit your lip, barely feeling the harsh scrape of your canine against your soft flesh. 

“You gonna wash up, Sneak?” Gaz asked, elbowing you out of your thoughts.

“Huh?”

“You’re standing there like a spare prick, Sneaky,” Soap laughed. “You gonna shower? Or are you cooking up a little pre-mission prank?”

“Don’t encourage that, Soap,” Gaz laughed. “We need to put all that to rest. Like Ghost said, this is the last time we have to see the guy. Let’s just get past it and pray we don’t ever work with KorTac again.”

“I’m not planning anything,” you said, stopping Soap in his tracks just as he picked up the hem of König’s shirt. “I agree with Gaz, let’s leave it, alright? I’m just gonna see where Ghost got to first then I’ll go shower. His stuff’s not here, so he must’ve gone off and I figure I should make sure he got away from König in one piece.”

“Ghost getting away from König?” Gaz snorted. “Think I’d worry more for the other way around…if I gave a shit about König that is.”

You gave another little weak laugh and walked off without anything else to say. You didn’t have anything else in the chamber. Your mind was too busy reeling and wondering where Ghost got to and why König’s stuff was laid out everywhere and all the ways you could combine those pieces of information into horrible conclusions.

You walked through the doorway to the opposite corridor and mindlessly carried yourself forward while your skin burned too hot and your stomach tightened into tiny knots. 

Did they have an argument? Did Ghost notice something about König’s things that gave you both away? Had he seen the bird and known it was yours? If so, how? You’d never shown anyone else the bird that you could remember, but then you cursed to yourself as you remembered your less than sound mental state and struggled to try and remember if you possibly had told the guys or shown them the bird at any point. 

Why did König have to carry it around with him? Why couldn’t he have left it in his room on base or secreted it away somewhere safe?

Were you being crazy? You reasoned you were being crazy. Maybe he really had just left his things in a hurry. Perhaps he did just want to get through his-

You felt your blood run cold when you heard a low growl tear you from your thoughts and speak your name, your real name.  

“You look lost.”

You glanced up after trailing your eyes along the gloomy grey floor and shivered as you finally noticed Ghost towering above you, casting a mighty shadow. He had his eyes fixed on you like a shark, cold and deadly as he surveyed your trembling form. He was glaring hot pits into your skin and from that moment on you had absolutely no doubt that he was onto you. 

He’d never looked at you like that in his entire time leading you. He looked furious, distressed, agitated, so many emotions were etched those glaring dark eyes of his and you were losing track trying to figure out how to best appeal to him. 

“I was trying to find you,” you murmured, barely speaking above a whisper. 

“Why would you be doing that then, ay?” he gritted out, walking toward you cornering you into a wall.

His boots sounded against the floor like canons. With the way he was acting, you worried he’d shove you and crush you underneath them. Though maybe that would be kinder than the fate he had in store for you…

“You.. you- uh, tossed König’s things didn’t you?” you whimpered.

“I did.”

“Why?” you breathed, feeling your eyes welling with tears before you could even attempt to think of calming yourself. 

“I’ll admit I got angry at the thought of having to go crawling and apologising to him and I lost it. I knocked his things off the bench. It went everywhere and shit went scattering out his pockets, y’know he left his wallet in his trousers, stupid cunt. Shouldn’t even have personal shit on a training exercise, but I suppose that’s what happens when you hire a bunch of undisciplined mercs… you know what I happened to see when I spotted his wallet though? You have any guesses, Sneak?”

You gulped and all of a sudden, it became all too clear to you exactly how Ghost had caught you out. 

“The photos,” you whispered.

“That’s right,” Ghost growled, “I saw the fucking photos of you two poking out of it.”

Next part here

#König #König x reader #konig x reader #konig #könig fanfiction #modern warfare 2 #modern warfare fanfiction #mw2

[targaryenluvs]

The crows are highly overprotective of child reader?

Little Crow

platonic crows x child!reader, kaz brekker x child!reader

mentions of y/n, seen as a girl - i made this in the middle of the night man it might not make sense at times - zemeni reader so dark skin, brown eyes and hair etc

It was hard living on the streets of Ketterdam.

No one bothered to look twice at you. Those who did would toss a coin your way and continue on, proud of themselves for helping a child.

Your parents were long gone, having dumped you on the step of an orphanage, two months shy of your first birthday. You were ten now, kicked out of your orphanage for starting fights which usually were just self defence.

There was an underground fighting ring that Ms Andero, the mistress of the Orphanage was more than willing to put you in, for a good price as well as punishment for the ‘trouble’ you caused. You ran away before she had the chance.

Two years on the streets had toughened you up for sure but you would do anything for a hot meal.

That’s why when the Crow Club opened up for a job specialising in information you did everything you could to get it. They were looking for someone female preferably, small and under thirty.

A very odd set of requirements but then again you wouldn’t want someone blowing their hip out after getting caught eavesdropping.

So you did your best to clean up, and you were on your way.

A sweet guy was waiting at the club, with a Zemeni man that looked bored beyond doubt. “Why are we stuck with hiring new recruits? Any of the dregs could’ve done it.”

The smaller boy looked up and smiled, “Because you kept hassling Kaz about getting a cat Jes.” The darker skinned man chuckled, “It was a cute cat, it looked exactly like Kaz. Just more smiley.” The two laughed as you slowly approached, “Who are you?” ‘Jes’ asked. “Uh I heard that there was a job open here?”

“Aren’t you a bit young?” You frowned, feeling rejection coming your way. “I uhm, I just really want a job. I’m fast! I’m super smart, I can jump roofs like realllly far. I can do anything and I’m so small people forget I’m around.”

“What do you think Wylan?”

“I think she’s pretty good for the job, no one would suspect someone so cute and innocent. Men are stupid and never suspect anything besides other men.” A woman spoke up from behind you.

You quickly stepped back, a bit frightened.

“Oh no, I didn’t mean to startle you. I’m Nina. What’s your name?” You meekly smiled, “Uhm Y/n.” “Well Y/n, you are hired.”

The first few days were daunting. You’d never imagined yourself stable nor with your own room. It was small, but you were grateful for anything. What you were yet to do was meet “The Boss” as Jesper liked to say.

But when you did you were met with a harsh, scary contorted version of a smile which made you want to run all the way back up to your room.

“I told you he’d scare her.” Inej whispered to no one in particular. You looked back at Nina but she only egged you on.

You slid into the booth and smiled, placing the parchment in your hands on the table.

“It’s nice to meet you Mr Brekker.”

“You have good information, you never get caught. You’re small and easy to conceal. As long as you don’t cause me or any one else trouble you can stay. Continue to clean up after yourself you are not my responsibility.” He spoke quickly whilst receiving a harsh glare from Inej, Jes and Nina.

“I always clean up after myself, I cook for myself and dress myself I’m completely independent you’ll have no problems from me Mr-”

“Kaz.”

“What?” He looked up from the floor, “You can call me Kaz. Not Mr Brekker, you make me feel twenty years older.”

“Okay. I uhm I found out about a heist and it’s fully planned out. I also may or may not have broken into someone’s office and stolen all of the plans for the heist and its right there.” You said sliding it over to Kaz, “They said it was for someone called Pekky? Pekka?”

Kaz looked at you straight away, “Are you sure? Where was the office?”

“Uhm across the street from that place everyone here hates. Golden Lions.”

Nina leaned in and whispered, “Dime Lions.”

“Dime Lions!”

For a second you swore you saw a smile or a smirk which was more fitting to the ‘Bastard of the Barrel’.

“You might just be a good addition to us, Inej can teach you more. Everyone be here by night, we’ll go over the plan. Be ready. Always be ready.”

Over the next few months you felt content. You were forever grateful you had the bravery (or so you called it) to take the initiative to go for the job in the first place and you ended up with an amazing family. You even managed to break ice with Kaz and he no longer labeled you “child.”

You’d become as great with your skills as Inej from constant training. You’d learnt to pick locks from Kaz, you loved sitting in on Wylan’s terrorism lessons, Jes even let you touch his revolvers after weeks of bugging, Nina taught you about her Grisha powers and different languages and Matthias taught you about Fjerda.

You finally felt confident enough with yourself to go out on a heist with everyone after begging Kaz to let you come. You’d originally wanted to break in and scout the place with Inej but Kaz shot the idea down quickly. It irked you. Did he think you were a liability? Not good enough?

Soon you’d learn it was the opposite.

You had been appointed to the role of lookout. Perched upon a nearby roof with Wylan, Jes would prove as a distraction, Inej would break in at the time and Kaz was inside, scouring the ballroom for a certain George Pell. The second his men approach with the problem of the breach he was to alert Jes, Jes would protect Inej, the two of them would make their escape as Wylan and you would let the bombs go off, giving Kaz his escape with all the other Lords and Ladies.

It was perfect, until it wasn’t.

For starters the security was 3x what had first been reported. Second of all a certain Pekka Rollins was in attendance. Kaz had made the mistake of not looking over the attendance list, mostly because it was an open invitation to the wealthy and no black list was in existence. Third of all, Inej had fallen sick, an infection of a wound.

Which meant you would be taking her place. Kaz had scoured the Dregs for anyone who could take her place but no one could compare to your skills as well as Inej’s.

“When you hear the bombs go off I’ll be at the door, you’ll know who I am because?”

“Secret code.”

“Good. Once you hear it, let me in, and we’ll go out the way we came in. We run back to the rendezvous spot and wait for the place to die down before making our way back. It’s important no one sees your face, this plan relies on anonymity. Pekkas men see us? We’re done for. Understand?”

“Got it Jes.”

“Atta girl.” He laughed as he ruffled your hair.

The two of you were perched on the roof, waiting for Wylans signal that Kaz had made it in. The flashing light had the two of you moving in.

As you lowered yourselves in you heard an explosion which had the two of you drop to the floor. Jes had knocked over a display. Which caused a guard to bang on the door, “Who’s in there?” She asked.

Jesper grabbed your arm as the two of you hid behind the door, as she entered Jesper shot her point blank. As you looked towards the necklace you were meant to grab.

Jesper dragged her body to the side and looked out the door before closing it. “We need to hurry this up, I don’t like this night. This mission seems off.” You nodded as you picked the lock to the cabinet. The glass seemed to be Durast made, trying to shatter the glass and attract more attention seemed stupid and you were sure the glass would be hard to break.

You heard a pop and you carefully opened the cabinet to extract the necklace. The best way to steal something in your mind was to act as if you already owned it. Before putting it on you hastily grabbed a nearby gown and put it on, to play the part of course. Not because it was absolutely breathtaking. You quickly clipped the necklace on and asked Jesper if he could change it somehow in size or colour.

“I- what? I can’t I’m not-”

“Jesper don’t act dumb. I’m ten not stupid.”

He laughed, not as big and sweet as usual but still. “Why do you hide it?” “I, I don’t know. I just feel people would treat me differently.” You hugged him as he stumbled back. “I love you no matter what Jes. If anyone says anything I’ll stab them.”

He smiled as he wrapped his arms around you, “That’s good to know, no one will come after me if I have a big scary protector.” You withdrew, with a faked look of shock, “I’m not scary!”

“I detest. You scare me every day. With your little knives and intelligent self you put us all to shame.” As you were about to respond you heard shouts and screams, indicating it was your time to go. As the two of you returned to the skylight you came down from you saw three men inspecting the rope you used to repel downwards. “There! Bloody criminals!”

The two of you ran towards the open doors, to be met with guards rushing at you from both ways. “Shit, what now?” You spied a door in-front and grabbed his hand as you rushed towards it.

You were met with a stampede of people trying to exit the buildings. You both ran into the crowds, hoping to blend in, which you did successfully. As you rushed out your dress got caught on something. By the time you freed yourself the ballroom was empty and Jesper was nowhere in sight.

You were captured within seconds, and you decided to not fight until you were locked up or alone. It would give you time to put your thoughts together, but you didn’t get the chance since you were promptly knocked out with a punch to the face.

You woke up in a bedroom, shackled to the bed. Your dress and hair was the same and thankfully the necklace was still on. The distorted shape hid its real size and original self. You looked around and realised it was still nighttime. But you couldn’t tell if it was the same day or not. As you inspected the shackle you realised the lock was simple. One of the many locks Kaz had you practice with.

You took the lock pick you kept in your boot out and began. Under a minute the lock was off, Kaz would be proud, or happy or whatever emotions he can feel. You thought.

You looked around the room and notice a small window, higher up, letting the moonlight bleed into the room. There was a bucket on the side, next to the door and you shuddered to think of what it was used or intended for. You were hot, the room was small and cramped, much more so than your room at the Slat. You quickly undressed, much more comfortable in your normal shirt, vest and pants. You tied your hair up and slipped the necklace into a hidden pocket. Before making your way to the bucket, placing it on the bed and hoisting your self up to the window.

You weren’t high up, one storey it seemed and you could make the jump most likely but you didn’t want to leave anything up to chance. You used the sewer pipe and uneven bricks to climb down into the alley. You ducked behind a bunch of crates as you noticed a guard walking past. Once he was gone you ran.

As fast as possible, you made your way down the surprisingly empty streets. Richer homes, light lamps still on, cafés with an abundance of flowers out front.

You were in a nicer area obviously.

After running for what felt like forever before you entered familiar waters. As the Crow Club came into view you ran faster than before, your legs ached but you were so close. You weren’t going to stop until you knew you were safe.

You barrelled through the doors and ended up on the floor as you heard people make their way over to you.

“Saints Y/n you scared us to death. We thought they got you.” Inej said as she hugged you tightly. You scoffed, “Please I’m the fastest person in the Barrel, you honestly thought their fat asses would get me?” She smiled as someone spoke up.

“Well they obviously did. Look at you.”

Kaz spoke as he rose from the booth, leaning heavily on his cane. “All the Dregs are looking for you. I’m so sorry Y/n/n I should’ve kept you in front of me. Look what they did to you.” Jesper frowned as he took your hands, getting you up from the floor.

“It’s okay I’m okay.”

“Both of you, go grab Nina from the Slat.”

“But-”

“Now.” The two looked at each other, Jesper shrugged as Inej sighed, she knew better than to press Kaz, especially when he was in a bad mood.

“I knew you weren’t ready.” He said as he approached you. “Hey, I am ready. Everyone makes mistakes Kaz. Nothing goes exactly to plan, otherwise there wouldn’t have been a plan B, or C or-”

“You could’ve been seriously hurt, or injured. I don’t need a liability on the team, someone I have to constantly worry about.”

“Aw, you worry about me?”

“That’s not what I mean.”

“Sure sure Kazzle. As much as you hate to admit you have a soft spot for me. I’m not a liability and you know it. I can handle my own, I just need more training. Plus the plan was already awry before I got nabbed. Wylan already had bombs going off the second Jes and I were inside.”

“He was ambushed. The light wasn’t mean to go off, you were meant to wait until all the guards were drawn away, busy directing the guests inside. Then you were supposed to go in, come out the same way. If George was alerted I’d let Wylan know and Wylan would draw their attention with the bombs. He was fighting someone off and turned the lantern on accidentally. The bomb as well.”

“See? We’re only human.”

“It was a stupid plan, not only did we all blow our covers but Pekka saw me. Now the Stadwatch will come around with accusations but nothing solid. You were taken for hours, beaten and on top of it all we didn’t get what we wanted.” Kaz spoke as he turned and made his way up the stairs as you followed.

“Oh didn’t we?” He was about to open his room when he turned sharply. “Y/n.” You giggled before taking the necklace out, “I know it looks a little funny but it’ll be back to normal once Jes gets his hands on it.” A slight smile tugged at his lips, “Impressive.”

“Ah! That was a compliment. I think I may die of shock Kazzle.”

He shook his head and you knew he was smiling. You sat on his bed as you admired the room, you’d never been in here before and it was pretty standard but what shocked you was his taste in books, poetry?

Kaz Brekker reciting poetry seemed like a funny dream.

He slowly made his way back to you, with a damp cloth and bowl of water. His breath wavered, “Sit on the chair, stay still.” You complied and sat idly, a book in your lap. He slowly brang the cloth to your lip, wiping the blood away.

After a few minutes he withdrew quickly. You looked in the mirror and smiled again, Kaz Brekker had a soft spot for a street kid, who would’ve thought?

Whilst he sat going through his own work you sat going through his books. By the time you finished your books the day had seeped through the window as you felt your eyes grow tired and before you knew it you were asleep.

You woke up to the nice smell of waffles and syrup. As you got up you realised you weren’t in your own bed, no you were still in Kaz’s room. To your right on the table was a tray of food.

“Eat.” And you didn’t need to be told twice, after eating your own food and returning it to the kitchen you sat at one of the chairs in front of him. “Have you eaten?” Kaz didn’t respond, “Did you sleep?”

“You were in my bed how could I have slept?” You tilted your head, “I was on a very comfortable chair. Not the bed.” He looked up slightly, “Your neck was in an odd position so I moved you.” You smiled, “Thank you.” His eyebrows contorted, “For?”

“Everything. You could’ve kicked me out on the street when I showed for the job. When I messed up in cooking you didn’t shout, when I was training you didn’t get fed up when I failed. You had patience when it came to me. Most people would’ve thrown me out by then. You took a chance on me. On my first job I messed up and you still kept me. Thank you Kaz.” Kaz stood from his chair and so did you.

He looked down at you, “I was a child, on the streets like you. I did not meet the right people. No one took me in. I was alone. You showed potential the moment I talked to you first, I wasn’t going to let the same thing happen to someone I’ve come to, value.”

“I’m assuming that’s your way of saying I love you and I love you too Kazzle.” Before you knew it you hugged him. You immediately tried to pull back but an uncertain gloved hair rested on your head, shaky and ghosting but there.

“I love you too.” He wanted to say, but he couldn’t.

And if he couldn’t say it? He’d show it. He protect you from the horrors the barrel had to offer. The crooked people and places.

He’d keep you safe.

Because of Jordie.

No, because he loved you.

#six of crows x reader #kaz brekker x reader #nina zenik x reader #jesper fahey x reader #wylan van eck x reader #inej ghafa x reader

[biteofcherry]

To find the light, we must first touch the darkness

Please also check out @bluepinkangel​’s amazing hot moodboard for this universe 🖤

dark!mafia Steve Rogers x female reader

summary: When you unexpectedly are appointed to run a health center, you foresee many struggles along the way, but not one in the form of a merciless mob boss. Steve Rogers’ core aim is to own and he won’t take no for an answer. To any of his demands.

warnings: dark!Steve Rogers; manipulation; threats; power imbalance;

word count: 4.4k

Touch the Darkness Masterlist

Chapter 2. Lava in the snow

~ * ~ 

Always a professional, you decided on setting hard boundaries with Mr Rogers, but in the privacy of your office. 

It was never a good idea to have an audience for a type of a scolding, especially if a person considered themselves in a position of power compared to the people witnessing the scene. That escalated reactions, while meeting eye to eye gave the opportunity for both parties to still hold respect.

Taking a step back from Rogers’ towering posture, you stiffly motioned for him to walk inside your office. 

You cast a pointed glare Natalie’s way as you closed the door. She was swift in her work against the unexpected circumstances, but you wanted to drive in the point of not doing favors for anyone.

The only favors you accepted in the center were those for the patients. For them you’d make things as flexible as needed.

You took a calming breath, fingers still resting on the door handle, before you pulled back your shoulders and turned around to face your guest. 

He watched you curiously. At least you preferred to assess it as merely curiosity, as something told you it was best not to read the intensity in his eyes as actual, deeper interest. 

The way his gaze slid up from your feet, taking in every inch of your body until it settled on your face, was bordering on inappropriate. 

You met his gaze evenly, trying not to show that the vivid contrast between you two made you feel uneasy.  

You were wearing a simple, pale blue pantsuit (the jacket currently hanging over the back of your office chair) and a white blouse; your heels not too high, a few jewelry pieces not overbearing your looks. 

Appealing light tones to underline your professional approach. 

He was an unpolished chunk of darkness. Clean, but heavy boots; jeans on which you tried not to focus, since they seemed so tight around his thighs and ass; a dark henley and a black leather jacket to match. 

Each piece was basic, but pristine; and heavy compared to yours. 

Light versus dark, to put it simply. 

But there was more to the difference between the two of you. And you weren’t certain - not with the way he carried himself - that you’d easily maintain an upper hand even in your own office.

Rogers was like a nugget of volcanic rock that landed among the bright snow of your world, and the black heart of it sizzled with so much destroying force the innocent wintery landscape would have to melt for him.

“Please sit, Mr Rogers.” You tilted your chin up, adamant on not yielding. 

You walked around him, noticing that he moved to sit down only as you took a seat in your own chair. He probably waited to assess your intentions. Or it could be a gentleman’s habit, though you wouldn’t assume he possessed such traits. 

Not with the way he strolled into the center, like there was no risk of him being denied anything he demanded. 

He was probably leading some old-money, family company, where the great grandsons of a slaver were so used to their wealth and spoiled with attention, they didn’t even bother to show simplest acts of courtesy. 

“I’m sure you’re a busy man Mr Rogers,” you forced your jaw to relax, not to grit the words through your teeth. “So I assume your need to see me goes beyond simply wanting to meet the new director of the center.”

You knew there have been phone calls with invitations to lunches, or brunches, or other unches, with bored philanthropists and benefactors. Which Natalie skilfully dodged, placating the hungry for novelty elites with promises of you joining them for a meal in the future.

You didn’t suspect Rogers of that, but one could never be sure. 

“It does, but you are a curiosity.” He leaned back in his chair. 

“How so?” You raised an eyebrow.

Was it because your name hasn’t been on the list of celebrity doctors, with whom Stark-level elites were mingling with? To have an actual commoner become the head of a prospering health center could shake the boring world of snobs. 

Then again, it didn’t seem that the center was interesting to any of them, since Howard made sure to not profit from it. Its main goal was to serve people, not his name. 

“A pretty, shiny fish being dropped into a tank full of sharks and swimming through it all calm and confident.” 

His voice carried hints of amusement and disbelief; and also a drop of fascination, which alerted your senses as something bad. 

Still, you weren’t about to reveal uneasiness, nor uncertainty. That’s how people of his caliber learned they get to poke at weaker ones. You wouldn’t be weaker. So you crossed your palms in your lap, holding your back ramrod straight. 

“If you mean dealing with health care system moguls, I assure you I have experience in that. Managing donations for a privately based center won’t be much different than wrapping pharmaceutical companies around a finger.” You shrugged, quite confident in your abilities. 

Rogers, in turn, grinned darkly.

“That’s not what I mean at all.” He replied, entertained with your attempts to cover a shiver which clearly shook your body. 

Becoming even more annoyed, you huffed and placed your hands on your desk.

“What is it that you mean, then?” You asked, your patience thinning. 

“You have no idea who I am, do you?” Rogers tilted his head to the side, previously shown amusement dimming down. 

The air around him seemed to hum with power as his features settled into sharp seriousness. You were starting to suspect it wasn’t a usual business meeting. Nothing about this man was usual. Not in your standards, anyway.  

“One of Howard’s benefactors?” You swallowed nervously, while still trying to remain calm on the outside. 

You wanted to believe that initial assumption, even though you now suspected it to be a lie. Not only from the course of the conversation, but also the way Steve Rogers sat in a basic office chair as if it was a throne.

His ringed fingers resting loosely over the armrests added to that aura. 

Thick, dark silver bands; some simple, some twisted in more intricate shape, a few even had colorful stones submerged into heavy metal. 

Vines of black ink stretched over one of his hands, a shape of bare roots that twisted into a thicker pattern over his wrists, but the tattoo disappeared under the sleeve of his jacket and you were unable to decipher it. 

You should’ve noticed earlier that he wasn’t a spoiled heir to an old fortune, but someone who probably reaped his riches with brute force.

“Of sort.” Rogers quirked his eyebrows, the corner of his mouth tilting in a smirk for a brief second. It was all gone in a blink of an eye. 

“I’m someone who has all of those benefactors under my thumb.” He stated simply. “As well as other people.”

He wasn’t boasting. Rather laying down the law he expected you to take into consideration and abide by. 

“What do you want exactly?” Earlier you were careful not to irritate (too much) a potential donor, now you needed to stay cautious of danger that lurked beneath the surface of Rogers’ handsome face.   

“A lot of things,” his grin was sharp and threatening, “but now, from you? I want this place.”

That actually surprised you. Having watched too many movies, you half expected to hear something about paying for protection, or else your place will accidentally burn down to the ground. 

Instead, Steve Rogers wanted to own the whole place. For what reason? It made absolutely no sense. It wasn’t a company that gained money, you weren’t producing, or selling anything worthy. It was a health center founded on charities, basic contracts with the ministry, taking care of people who couldn’t afford private help. 

“You want to run a health center?” You asked slowly, still not comprehending his words. 

“Not at all.” Steve shook his head, his grin not disappearing. “The grounds it stands on are of value to me.”

At that you felt a surge of anger. Justified, in your opinion. 

A cocky bastard, who potentially could kill you with his bare hands, was attempting to deprive dozens of people in need of medical and mental help they needed, just because he wanted to own some valuable land. 

“There are plenty of available plots all over the city and outside of it.” You rose to your feet in a rush, ready to throw him out of your office (though you weren’t sure how exactly you would manage to do that).

“I am not going to hand over this place, robbing people in need of the help they only recently received, just because you wish to broaden your show-off territory.” You circled your desk in swift steps, standing in front of Rogers with your hands on your hips. 

“I won’t ever sell it. Or hand it over. No!”

As you nearly screamed the last word, it dawned on you what you’ve done. How reckless was your outburst, considering the man you were speaking to. 

You still had no idea who he was exactly, how deep under the ground he buried his enemies - or maybe, quite the contrary, he displayed them for all to see, so no one else would go against him. But you sensed it was stupid to go for his throat so boldly. 

“You haven’t yet heard my offer.” Rogers remained seated, though you noticed his fingers clenching on the armrests of his chair. 

His rings scraped against the metal and you almost felt the cold pressure of them against your own throat. He’d undoubtedly leave red dents in your skin if he clenched his large hand around your neck. 

“I’m not interested in it.” This time your reply came out softer; as if his fingers were already circling the front of your neck, threatening to squeeze. 

You weren’t going to change your decision, but you had enough working brain left to control yourself to not antagonize Rogers further. 

“You should be.” Steve slowly stood up. 

As he did, you instinctively took a step back, bumping into your own desk. Which was a bad move, you knew. Not only you sort of blocked your own way of escape, but showed a sign of fear, which the predator before you undoubtedly noticed. 

“See, I’m not the only one who will show interest in this place.” Rogers rolled his shoulders back, in a move similar to fighters readying to throw a punch. 

With how big he was, how strong his fingers alone looked, you suspected that if he punched you, your teeth wouldn’t only rattle in your mouth, but fall out. 

Though maybe he wouldn’t hit you, just break your neck in one quick snap. 

“Word goes around, especially in this city. Others will reach out to you, too, when they find out I’ve shown interest.” He took a step forward. “Sooner or later. For your sake, I hope it’s too late for them.”

When his gaze slid up the length of your body, it felt like a scrape of a blade against your skin. 

His eyes were so cold, irises a shade of rising sunlight caught in mountain ice, that running a sharp knife along your skin might feel a warmer caress than standing his gaze. 

A chill crept up your spine. 

A different kind of zing surged downward at the unexpected image of Rogers' blue eyes studying your responses as he runs an actual blade over your body. 

Still, you tilted your chin up defiantly, arms crossing over your chest. 

"If it's so desired by many, as you claim, why should I take your offer instead of others?" You asked, stubbornly refusing to bend to Steve Rogers' will. 

Not that you planned on taking anyone’s offer, but perhaps you could play a sneaky game and lead them all in circles with false declarations of selling to the others. Though you doubted they’d believe it for long. Rogers sure didn’t look stupid enough to fall for it.  

He cocked his head to the side, a glimmer of curiosity reigniting in his eyes; like a glint at the tip of an ice pick about to pierce right through you. 

"Because-" his voice was so deceivingly warm and deep- "I can protect you from them. But no one can protect you from me, Princess." 

First obvious threat striked you, forcing the air out of your lungs in a gasp. Your arms fell to your sides, fingers slightly trembling. 

You wanted to accuse him of a big ego, laugh that any petty criminal would say how dangerous they are and no one else could protect you from them. But somehow you believed Rogers. You believed he’s as scary and untouchable as he painted himself to be. 

“There’s no need for condescending names,” you blurted out instead, needing to direct your shaken feelings at something. 

“Condescending?” Steve inched even closer, his feet bracketing yours as his hands slipped between your arms and your body to rest on the edge of the desk. 

He had you truly trapped. Caged between the desk and his powerful body, which radiated warmth that was so tempting to lean into. 

Further temptation was his perfume. A warm spicy scent, notes of cedar and cardamom, with a splash of something awakening, something tart and fresh to pull you from the lulling haze of the first notes. 

His perfume was just like him - a lethal slice of acid hidden beneath a warm, comforting veneer.

“A Princess is a title of a royal family’s member,” Rogers’ eyes bore into yours, “You may not be connected by blood, but you are now an heiress to Stark, who has been treated like royalty for decades.”

“A Princess-” one of his hands brushed your hip- “is also a girl deserving to be spoiled.”

You couldn’t help glancing at his lips when he licked them. Or maybe you wanted any excuse not to be looking into his ice cold eyes. 

“Seize the opportunity while I still consider you deserving of it.” He pulled back; the comforting softness of his voice transformed into coarse bidding. 

“You can keep your center, I don’t need it locked down. But you will sign the property over to my name.” There was finality to his tone which you didn’t dare object at this very moment. “You have twenty four hours to consider. This time tomorrow, I’ll come to hear you say yes to me, Princess.”

Don’t hold your breath, itched to roll out on your tongue. 

You kept silent, however. Twenty four hours wasn’t long enough to wage your options, but perhaps it’ll be enough to contact law enforcement or other institutions and gain yourself help. 

You watched Rogers leave your office, your fingers clenching on the edge of the desk as you allowed tremors to shake you now that he wasn’t watching. 

A few heartbeats, three deep breaths, and you were straightening. 

You walked to the door with purpose, telling yourself you wouldn't shake if Rogers was still behind them. Yet you sighed in relief when you saw his shadow disappearing far around the corner. 

Your gaze shifted from the end of the corridor to the two people still standing nearby. Natalie was typing away on her phone, seemingly unperturbed by what just occurred. Felix wasn’t shaking as much as before, but his forehead was still dewy with sweat. 

“In my office, n o w.” You ordered, though your anger didn’t scare them as much as Rogers calmth did. 

Maybe you needed to start wearing darker clothes? 

You shook your head to rid away the idiotic thought, reminding yourself that you did not want to be anything like Steve Rogers. Your goal wasn’t to terrify people, it was to provide help and safety. 

Something Rogers was probably unfamiliar with as a concept. 

Felix closed the door when both of them entered your office, choosing to stay behind and sit on a small chaise that served more decoration than a used seat. Natalie took the chair which Rogers not so long vacated, spreading her calendar open in her lap and looking at you with her usual readiness to follow the day’s agenda. 

“Who. The. Fuck. Is Steve Rogers?” You paced the floor, needing to get rid of the last remnants of adrenaline his visit evoked. 

“I swear, if one of you says influential-” you leveled them with a pointed glare- “I will throw a stapler at you.”

“He’s a mob boss.” Felix gulped, rubbing his hands against his thighs. “A very, very bad man.” 

“Well, he’s good at running his branch.” Natalie rolled her eyes. “There are three major mafias in the region. Rogers is the head of one of them. Over the past few years, his power has grown enough to push back the other two families, leaving them only scraps.” 

“A mob boss.” You said to yourself, nearly breathless. 

You suspected it, but some naive, helpless side of you didn’t want to fully believe it.

Things like that happened in movies and books. Sure, you were aware the likes of him truly existed, but they never crossed paths with people like you. Hell, the only crime you ever committed was a speeding ticket half a year after passing your driver’s license exam. 

“More like a king, to be fair.” Natalie looked at you seriously, a first flash of her taking the situation as heavy as it was. “He really has ties all over the city and far beyond that.”

“I’ve heard he has at least four senators in his pocket.” Felix piped in, calmer now that Rogers nor his men were anywhere near. “And quite a few big fishes on other continents, too.” 

Rumors tended to be overblown. Those serving to cement someone’s big, scary reputations were probably deliberately maintained, so people wouldn’t fight him out of fear of consequences. As there were - to some - repercussions worse than death. 

“I should assume he has sway over the police, then.” You nearly deflated as realization dawned on you.

If Rogers had even one third of the influence they said, it meant you wouldn’t do well going with this case to the police. He’d know about it right away, which could result in retaliation worse than what awaited you if you just stubbornly said no. 

“I-” Felix opened his mouth, closed it, then opened it again. “He was seen having dinner with the chief of police and some FBI person. Chatty and cozy, like old friends.” 

Your eyebrows rose nearly to your hairline. Natalie turned her head, glancing at Felix over her shoulder with a genuinely surprised expression, too.

“And how do you know that?” She asked; perhaps a little offended that Felix knew more than her. Natalie liked to be the best at everything.

“You know me, I can’t help but live for the gossip columns and blogs.” He admitted, with an embarrassed sigh. “Even if that’s only gossip, I’m pretty sure it’s close to the truth.”

You suspected he was right. If some of the information about Rogers’ connections was exaggerated, still it was safe to assume it had basis in truth. There was no safe way to ensure your actions weren’t reported back to him. 

“Fucking fantastic.” You muttered, closing your eyes and pressing your fingers against your temples. 

If the whole ordeal resulted only in one big headache, you’d take it. Unfortunately for you, there were more problematic consequences awaiting, regardless of your choice. 

“Can’t you just give him what he wants?” Natalie asked cautiously.

“No!” Felix’s protest sounded more vehement than yours.

His suddenly discovered moral spine surprised you. In a good way. 

Natalie was calculating, you couldn’t blame her for that. If saying yes meant little trouble, you probably would choose it as the logical option. But Rogers owning the place meant he could decide its fate at any time. Promises of letting you run it could be revoked within months. Not to mention the reputation of the center would shatter, if the public learned who truly owns it.  

“If Mr Rogers simply wanted me to admit someone into our program, cutting the waiting list, I’d give him that.” You’d still be pissed that some rich fucker wanted to screw over poor people who were also waiting, but it was something at least someone in need could actually gain from. 

“What he wants isn't that simple.” To him it was; a simple yes or no. To you it could change your entire life. 

Moreover, his insinuation suggested others would be coming with similar propositions. Perhaps worse propositions, leaving you no false hope of even running the health center as it was. 

His wrath, if you took someone else’s offer, would probably be a very painful one, too.

Why did it all have to fall on your head? Couldn’t Rogers discover the worth of these grounds a few months ago, when it would have been Howard’s problem, not yours? 

The rest of the day ticked away like mad. Meetings and smaller problems, with which you’d deal easily any other day, now seemed to gain in size and difficulty. Your head wasn’t clear; images of Rogers’ face flashed back before your eyes. The sound of his voice saying twenty four hours resounded with each strike of the clock.  

Before you knew it, the sun was setting. Meaning you stayed at work longer than you first assumed you would. 

It was dedication to what you did, but at this very moment also fear of having to fully face the truth of what was coming in the morning. Who was coming.

And you still had no idea what to do. 

Felix and Natalie were long gone when you left the building, as were the rest of the employees. Only the night shift security guards remained. They escorted you to the parking entrance and locked the door behind you. 

You nervously swayed your car keys in your hand as you walked toward your car, briefly entertaining the idea of driving far far away. 

An escape would postpone making any decisions. But it wouldn’t solve the problem. 

Quite the opposite, it could multiply it. 

Plus, it wasn’t in your nature to just run. You always fought back against whatever life threw at you. Granted, often you fussed and whined, pitied yourself when you had to struggle with something, but you never ran. 

You were a few steps away from your car when you heard a sound from somewhere behind you. Clutching your keys in your hand, you turned around.

There was no one. 

Before you were able to let out a sigh of relief, a dark cloth was thrown over your head. 

Arms wrapped around you, trapping your own arms to your sides. Your scream was muffled by the hood that covered your whole face and a hand pressing over your mouth. 

You squirmed with all your might, trying to jerk your head backwards to maybe break the assailant’s nose. You managed to kick them, your pointy heel cutting into their leg. 

He cursed, but his hold on you didn’t falter much. It was a man, judging by his voice. He called you a bitch when you began kicking back with all your effort, striking his legs a few more times.  

Then another set of hands were grabbing your ankles, depriving you of this form of defense. They hoisted you up, despite you thrashing like a fish out of water.  

Suddenly, your legs were dropped down. You didn’t know why, only heard a grunt and the sound of something heavy falling.

Your other captor cursed, pushing you down so hard your head hit the asphalt. Above you, something metallic clicked, then grunts and sounds of something crushing followed. You rolled on the ground, hoping to blindly get yourself from whatever was happening.

Buzzing noise filled your head as you propped yourself on your hands and knees. You really hoped you didn’t have a concussion. 

With jerky moves, you ripped the hood off your head. Your vision was slightly foggy. It took you a long moment to realize it wasn’t dark because you had a severe head injury, but because it was very late in the evening. 

You glanced toward the commotion. Someone was lying on the ground, unmoving. Perhaps it was the man who was holding your legs. The other one was fighting with someone. Futily. Despite his muscles and physical strength, he couldn’t block any of the fast punches from his much smaller opponent.

You weren’t interested in staying to see who would win. Your savior would have to do with self-pride, because you weren’t going to stay to say thank you. Oh no, you were going to drive the hell away from here.

As soon as you located your car keys, which had to fall out of your hand when you were tossed to the ground. 

You were searching for them in panic, squinting your eyes to see better in the shadows, when a screeching sound of tires pierced the night. 

A black car burst into the parking lot. It raced past you, smoothly wedging itself between you and your assailants, and halting. 

Two pairs of heavy boots jumped out of the car, landing with a thud on the asphalt. One pair ran around the car toward the fighting strangers, the other pair turned your way. 

“Get rid of them,” came someone’s cold, angry voice. 

“Then find that fucking little rat.” 

You almost crawled back on all fours when those boots stopped inches from you and a familiar face came into your line of vision when he crouched down. 

Steve Rogers was here again. 

And it hasn’t been twenty four hours yet. 

You stared at him, both in fear and awe. He appeared to be your savior, but his eyes didn’t hold an ounce of pity or sympathy. A stormy ocean was locked in his irises. You couldn’t be sure if you weren’t also a part of the source of wrath shining in his eyes.  

Steve reached his hand out, picking up your keys, which suddenly materialized so close to you. He tossed them up and caught them again, but didn’t offer them back to you. 

“Come, Princess. Before midnight strikes and more trouble comes your way.” 

“Worse trouble than you?” You huffed, wincing as you tried to stand up.

You weren’t that badly battered, but it still hurt to move. Dizziness took over your head as you clumsily stood up.

Rogers’ hand wrapped around your elbow, supporting you as you swayed a little. There was that smile again - half amusement, half threat - but the shadows distorted it into a wicked grin. 

“Give us a chance,” he teased, not letting you go, but forcing you to walk along him toward his car, “you may like the kind of trouble I am.”

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x female reader #steve rogers x you #dark!mafia steve rogers #dark!mafia steve rogers x reader #dark mafia!steve rogers #dark mafia!steve rogers x reader #to find the light we must first touch the darkness #touch the darkness #my writing #steve rogers fic #steve rogers imagine

[sehodreams]

sex money feelings die - first visit

the start ↬ first visit ↬ second visit

WC: 2.6k

TW and Tags (permanent for the story): rich client!Anton x stripper!reader, smut, fluff (?), a touch of angst for the moment, inexperienced reader, fingering, kissing, lots of silly conversations.

Summary: Working at a night club was difficult in many aspects, your sleep schedule was messed up for life, your feet were more used to high heels than sneakers and you had to lie about where you went to work those nights. Still, even with all those cons, you didn't hate your job, you had more than enough to pay your bills, feed your brother and save money for his college. However, what happens when your boss makes you do the one thing you asked to never do.

When you arrived to the dressing room your anxiety won over you and you practically inhaled the granola bar Sungchan had gifted you, thanking him in your mind because if you hadn’t tasted something sweet, you would’ve cried right there in front of all the girls that had just arrived.

Anton Lee, Anton Lee, Anton Lee.

Your mind kept repeating his name like a stuck cassette. You knew him, everyone knew him, he was the highest payer and religiously came every Friday. It was impossible to not recognize him in the crowd even between the numerous young guys and expensive suits.

He was one of the few customers the girls actually fought for, leaving big bills and sharing his expensive bottles with the people that kept him company through the whole night.

You’ve danced for him a couple times, and he was completely hot, sometimes leaving you all flustered with how his eyes inspected you when you moved, but you never maintained a decent conversation him, even less accepted one of his drinks, always rejecting him with a smile and calling the other girls with more experience to entertain him, like Shotaro had said to the group, he was important and the place would suffer if he left, because just like a guide, his posh friends would leave with him too, so everyone had to entertain him with the best.

‘’What’s going on in that little head?’’ Sungchan asked behind you, following you to the VIP room Anton booked every time he visited.

‘’Just that I should’ve choose a simpler set today, you know him, he likes the innocent type’’ you sighed. All the girls that spent the night beside him wore soft makeup and light lingerie, while you preferred the smokey look you had learned when you started and bought the darkest tones for your looks. You were wearing your typical black set when you remembered what he liked, but you didn’t feel like changing just for him, your dark image was part of you there, and you wouldn’t leave who you were behind just because he wanted you to be his personal company.

You played with the tie of with your black robe, still feeling a kind of shyness you knew was silly to have at that point, but that was always there, following you every time you stopped being you and became the confident girl collecting man hearts like cards your clients knew.

‘’You look as gorgeous as always, angel’’ Sungchan said trying to calm you down. You were sure he didn’t know what Shotaro had ordered you to do, he’d never smile and let you enter that room otherwise.

You chuckled. ‘’Why do all of you still call me angel?’’, you were curious, months had gone by and they all called you the same nickname, not that you minded, but it seemed to come so easy for them to say that word, and maybe when you were a waitress it made sense, you used to wear the uniform like a good girl, shirt covering you to the neck and light makeup that made you stand out in the dramatic place full of neon lights, loud music and drunk people, but now that you had the aura of belonging there under your heavy makeup and your provocative outfits, you didn’t understand why they continued calling you like that.

‘’Once an angel, always an angel, doesn’t matter how you look now, you’re still the same good girl walking around.’’

Your eyes almost got wet, how could he say that so easily? if only he knew what you were about to do inside that room, you were sure he’d never call you that again.

‘’Thank you Sungchan’’ you said when he opened the door for you, and after walking in and looking back he mouthed a silent I’ll be here to then close it behind you.

Anton was already there, and unlike other days, none of his friends were on his side.

You thanked God, at least he had the decency to do his business in private.

No sound came out of your mouth when you saw him. He was gifting you his typical sweet smile, confident and elegant, his lips pushing a delicate curve on the end of his smile, cat like and a touch mischievous. You couldn’t give him the same smile, and maybe he waited for you to talk first, because when he saw you wouldn’t his smile flattered a little.

‘’Good afternoon’’ he finally said. His voice was soft, sure he never had to be loud before, you thought about it before, how he and his friends had that gentle tone when they asked for things until they got drunk, getting to the conclusion that they never had to demand loudly anything since their wishes were constantly being heard by the people around them, people that served them.

Now you were one of them too and that realization made you uncomfortable.

The warm and mature fragrance of his cologne filled your lung, not helping your nerves calm at all, and when the room started to feel hotter, you opened your robe with the hope of gaining some of the imaginary confidence you always had on stage. Your eyes never left his while you did it, slowly letting it slide under your arms until it fell to your feet, and when you saw his throat gulp and his eyes flutter, you wished you hadn’t wasted your favorite black lacy set with little gold details on him, because he seemed to enjoy it a bit too much.

Shotaro had asked you to wear something more comfortable since you weren’t supposed to dance, so you grabbed the old stilettos you used to wear while serving drinks, and since they were less high than usual you thought it would be less tempting, but the combination of them with your black stocking made your legs look a lot more seductive and less intimidating to him, having the contrary effect without you noticing.

You advanced to him and he uncrossed his legs to welcome you over his lap with much pleasure.

Before going in you had decided you’d give him the most boring and bland sex of his life so he never felt the need to call you alone, and if it was fast, it wouldn’t hurt that much, right? You wanted to end it as fast as you could and go home to shower again, having for complete the night, with the hope of forgetting him, and he forgetting you, for your next shift.

Your hips timidly moved over him and his hands found your waist almost immediately, letting them rest over the naked skin between the pieces of cloth with a lot more confidence than you, watching you move over him with apparent knowledge. To be honest, your experience was completely amateur, having fucked only one guy one time, you tried to think in the many choreographies you had practiced and the numerous adult videos you watched, with the goal of getting him aroused and quickly finishing the job.

‘’So beautiful’’ he appreciated, making you press your nails in your palms. The granola bar you pushed in your throat minutes ago to calm your anxiety started to revolve inside your stomach, making your forehead sweat of nervousness. You should’ve remembered to not eat before that because every time you felt that kind of tension you felt yourself about to puke, but now it was too late, and he could easily see your discomfort all over your face. ‘’Are you okay?’’ he asked preoccupied, hands not pressing as hard as before and stopping you instead.

‘’Yes, sorry, let’s continue’’ you apologized, trying to go back to the activity you had started of moving your hips to lure him.

It didn’t work, soon you really felt yourself about to gag and jumped away from his body to not puke over his designer shirt, sitting next to him in the large velvet couch.

He grabbed one of the water bottles that were neatly arranged over the little table next to him and opened it for you, putting in your hand to then pat your back just like mothers did to their kids.

You drank half the bottle and he laughed.

‘’You’re so funny.’’

Your eyebrows frowned, what did he mean with funny? He was supposed to find you ravaging, fuck you and leave you after getting what he wanted, not to see you as his comedy relief when disgust bashed you. Well, wasn’t that supposed to happen? But he was there, next to you, laughing and patting your back to stop your nauseas.

‘’I didn’t think you would want your company tonight to be funny’’ you said almost angry.

He stopped laughing and, feeling the indignation coming out of your mouth, agreed with you to not offend you anymore.

‘’Sorry, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable, you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to, I just wanted to know you better in privacy’’. He seemed to understand you, but how could he? He was the one who put you in that situation, and just as fast as you felt bad for using a rude tone with him, you felt yourself getting heated again.

Suddenly a song started playing and the neon lights reflected lines around you two. They blinded him for a second, not used to them as much as you, while you felt a sense of comfort finally cooling your angriness.

Exhaling a long second your frown fell and, even with the sexy song sounding through the speakers, the provocative energy of the place couldn’t reach you anymore, making the silence between you two too torturous to start again.

‘’My name is Anton, Anton Lee’’ he said, trying to break it.

‘’You know how to call me’’ You never used your real name inside the local, every girl had a stage name that used with the clients and yours had been assigned by Shotaro.

He wanted to call you angel at first, just like everyone did, but you didn’t want to have such a pretty and innocent name when you were about to take your clothes off.

‘’I see’’ he wanted to hear your real name, but he knew you wouldn’t give it to him so easily. The expectations for tonight were more about hearing you talk about what you liked and what you did like you did with your regulars, he had concluded from all your rejections that you would never give him what he wanted just like that, that’s why he got surprised when you walked to him so decided, not that he hadn’t liked to see such a pretty girl open her robe and walk to him with such intense eyes, it was one of the hottest things he had ever seen in his life, but not what he intended for his first night with you. ‘’I think angel fits you more, if you don’t mind me calling you that, I’ve heard how the others do it.’’

Working there you had received all kind of requests from men, to asphyxiate them with your tits, to spit on their faces, one even asked you to kick him in the balls, but somehow, they were a lot easier to answer than this one.

To accept or not, you didn’t know what to do. It was just a nickname, not even your real name, and still fell it too personal to say yes.

‘’It’s okay if you don’t want to, but I would like to hear your thoughts about it at least, I really want to know you better.’’

‘’I don’t get it, what do you mean with know me better?’’ He smiled, happy to finally hear you talking with him without being angry or cutting.

‘’I’ve heard you talking with your regulars, and it seemed like you have many things to say.’’

You frowned. ‘’Do you mean how I talk with them about what food and music I like?’’

‘’Yes, exactly that, I just want to hear about you, what you like, what you hate, what you care about, what you don’t care about, anything.’’

‘’That’s really vague, I don’t know what about me could be interesting to you.’’

His eyes searched around the room trying to find anything to talk about without you sounding desperate to escape from.

‘’Maybe, if you don’t mind me asking, why were you about to throw up over me?’’

You glared at him, ‘’I do mind, no thank you.’’

Baffled with your answer but still amused he shook his head with a smile, ‘’I see, well, thank you for telling me.’’

For the first time since you entered that room, you laughed and felt relaxed beside him.

You didn’t mean to, but even you found funny how he accepted everything you said when it was supposed to be the other way around, you should be the one saying yes to everything he said, but here you were, bitterness filling your mouth with every sentence that came out of it, and his answering with honeyed words.

The way your eyes closed, and your lips pressed to not show your teeth was the most adorable thing he had seen from you directed to him. He had always been envious of your regular clients and how they always got to see you giving them your attention while dancing for them.

He hated to go out of the VIP room, the place reeked like cheap perfume and national cigarettes, odors he wasn’t used to in his little perfect world, and you preferred that space to the room full of bottles that costed more taxes than the whole drink menu. How did he end in that place? Even he can’t remember it exactly, he just recalls one of his friends telling him he had found really pretty girls coming here, and even if the clients weren’t as exclusive as him, your coworkers were all gorgeous enough to work in any other place they wanted, except that, just like he had discovered not long ago, not many places offered as much security like this one.

He had seen other clubs a lot more upscaled than this corner, but none of them watched their girls as much as this place, and most of them were brothels too, so he kind of guessed why all those pretty girls, including you, preferred this place to those snob clubs.

With his happy grin he exhaled after making you laugh, proud of himself.

The pleasant harmony didn’t last long, soon one of the security guys that always followed you opened the door, interrupting the moment that had just started to become enjoyable for you too.

‘’Time’s up’’ Sungchan said with the serious and strong face he showed to all the clients, so they didn’t mess with him.

The neon lights were replaced by the yellowish warm one of the chandelier above you two, music over thanks to the button outside he pressed when the time finished, to signal that you had to leave for your next client or show. He did it so the clients didn’t force you to stay, and you usually followed him immediately, but this time you didn’t know what to say or do, you weren’t sure if to tell him that you hadn’t started yet or how to tell him that Anton had paid for your company the whole night without sounding suspicious.

At the end you didn’t need to.

‘’Time’s up’’ Anton repeated.

‘’But we haven’t…’’ before you continued, he smiled at you and nodded.

‘’Until next time’’

Shotaro gave you that night what you usually did in an entire week.

the start ↬ first visit ↬ second visit

#riize x reader #riize smut #anton x reader #anton smut #riize hard thoughts #riize hard hours #riize imagines

[globalrebrand]

When You Deny Them

Third Years Part I: Vil, Leona

Warnings: None, not sfw, gn!reader, fluff

A/N: I'll do more of these for the other third years, hopefully.

Vil Schoenheit

With Vil, sex usually happens organically and by mutual invitation. A cuddling session will turn frisky, a scheduled encounter you both have been anticipating all day, (you and Vil are so busy you have to plan sex 😢 but it can still be sexy!)

Otherwise Vil goes off your cues. Touch his thigh and give him sultry look and he’s prepared to put you back in your place for "groping him so brazenly." Crawl into your shared bed and straddle him, or whisper in his ear how much you missed him. After some teasing, Vil will put aside most things to indulge you.

However he’s not used to you not giving him the green light. And Vil prefers you initiate because he likes to feel wanted, it's the ultimately a little ego boost for him. So what does he do when he’s horny but you’re not matching his energy or giving him the signal?

He doesn’t actively seduce you generally. The only times Vil initiates are on special occasions, your birthday, anniversary, etc, or when he’s trying to interrupt your plans so you stay in instead of going out without him.

However, if you keep turning down his advances he'll preen just like a peacock would, metaphorically spreading his tail feathers and flashing them at you.

Vil will put in a little more effort to get your attention. He'll lounge around in silk pajama with the shirt unbuttoned and recline in seductive poses.

He’ll even sneak up on you shirtless, lightly perspiring while wearing some running leggings that show off his toned ass and bulge and whisper in your ear that he's about to take a shower and how boring it would be without you.

If you wave him off he might spill something on you so you have to join him

If those attempts don't work, he'll up the ante. Vil will plan a romantic evening at home, hiring a private chef and serving a meal exclusively of known aphrodisiac foods and red wine. He'll turn on music the two of you can slow dance to on you patio over looking your beautifully maintained garden. Then he presents you with a new piece of jewelry or fancy watch. Hoping that is overtures will entice you. After all what a good partner he is! Spoiling you so.

And if that doesn't work...Vil’s not above playing the jealousy card to rile you.

If he's being subtle he'll post a thirst trap on magicam that will get a lot of attention, if he really wants to make you jealous he'll make sure you see other people fawning over him when you go to events. He hopes you'll get so worked up that you just drag him in to the bathroom and ride him. Pretty please, he won't beg. yet

Vil would never admit it, but he kind of loves then you play hard to get, telling him your busy and denying him, it only makes him all the more eager to finally get you back in his bed, or shower, wherever really since he can be so competitive, but... after a certain time the fun wears off and he has to get more forceful.

He does this by nudging you awake if you fell asleep after completing your nightly skincare routine and telling you that he has something that can ensure you have good dreams (his dick), but if you rebuff him yet again he’ll just shoot straight.

"Is something wrong my love? Have I not made my intentions clear enough? I want you...very badly."

If you tell him you're tired or over worked and thusly not in the mood, he pulls one last resort.

He schedules a vacation where he can have you all to himself.

Vil gets it you are both busy with your respective lives but you both have needs that neither of you are fulfilling with your current routine. If you work he’ll call your boss and tell them he’s taking you on vacation for a month and that if they have a problem with it that he can get you a better job with the snap of his fingers.

He picks an extremely romantic vacation in a gorgeous locale but there's really little point, Vil just wants to keep you in the hotel room.

"Isn't this wonderful, I have you all to myself little one." He'll coo while he curls his arms around you as you look out of a balcony over crystal waters. "Zero distractions. How about you make it up to me? You can start on your knees."

Leona Kingscholar

Sex with Leona is frequent and if it doesn't start as a natural part of how much time you spend napping and cuddling in bed, Leona initiates by telling you exactly what he wants you to do. Sometimes he's sweet and sultry about it, "pretty little herbivore, why don't you go ahead and get yourself off on my dick, yeah?" Other times he's straightforward. "Oi herbivore, get over here and ride me." Depends on his mood.

Regardless, Leona is a man with expectations about the sex he is "owed" in a relationship and if he’s not getting it he’ll be vocal about it. He's horny damn it! You're supposed to take care of that.

If you scold him for being grumpy towards you he’ll probably respond with something snarky like "sorry, I haven’t had my dick sucked in a week" And yes a week is all it takes to have leona protesting about sexual neglect and alienation of affection.

When it comes to you, Leona is absolutely shameless. He goes on the prowl, for you. Stalks you in your (shared) home during the day. He'll tug your undergarments down and grope at you or fondle you over your clothes. He will knock it off if you tell him to in a really firm tone that's not what you want right now, but then he’ll start demanding reasons why the two of you can’t drop everything and fuck in this hallway. The servants would just look the other way so there's really no harm in it, right? wrong

If he’s really desperate he’ll try to service you to entice you. A rare occurrence. You’ll wake up and he’ll be kissing the insides of you thighs and asking if you need him to do anything for you or complaining that he's hungry. Leona makes it very hard to turn him away, but if you have the strength to bat a pining Leona away from your spread thighs power to you.

In another bout of desperation for you, Leona will purposely arrange a situation where you catch him masturbating. On your bed, in the shower, hell even on a couch in a very high traffic area of your home. Shirt unbuttoned, cock out, looking completely unashamed as he asks, "You can help me with this can't you herbivore?"

He'll start walking in on you naked more than he already does to try and strike when you're vulnerable. And while normally Leona's a bit stingy with compliments, they suddenly become free flowing, if a not a little guilt tripping.

"So pretty, herbivore, and for what? Depriving me of this beautiful body. It's such a shame."

After a while Leona makes you a proposition. "If I beat you in chess, I get to do whatever I want with you." He won't take no for an answer (he's painfully stubborn) but the game really isn't fair considering how good Leona is at chess. When he inevitably wins he'll gloat and make sure you make if up to him. He won't tell you, but he really missed your routine intimacy.

"Finally, I can get what I need." Leona purrs as he pulls you into his chest, when you complain about his statement he adds, "Don't worry I'll take care of you too, but you have a lot to make up to me...now on the bed and spread 'em, be quick about it."

#twst wonderland #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #leona smut #leona kingscholar #leona kingscholar x reader #leona x reader #vil schoenheit smut #leona kingscholar smut #vil schoenheit x reader #vil schoenheit #vil x reader #twst scenarios #twst imagines #vil smut

[redrose10]

Part 1

Here is part 1 of this new story that I’m working on. I was going to post it as one big chapter, but I’ve received feedback that multiple chapters are preferred so that’s the route I went. I really hope that everyone likes it! This first part is very very angsty.

Inn Keeper Yoongi x Female Author Reader

Summary: You have never experienced true love which is hilarious considering you write romance novels for a living. When you end up staying at The Interlude Inn located in Holly Falls you start to wonder if maybe the answer to your newest love story is sitting behind the welcome desk. Quickly, you find out that Min Yoongi hides a lot of pain and sorrow behind his shy smiles and quick glances.

Warnings: (may get updated) Swearing, character death, very very angsty for a while, mentions of physical and verbal abuse, bullying, a really mean letter, panic attacks, eventual light smut, eventual fluff

Word Count: 9,602

Tag List: @viankiss

You slunk down in your office chair hanging your head low. Your boss had just chewed you out after you presented her with a draft of your newest novel that you had thought you were just about finished with, but it appears you were going to have to start from the beginning.

“I’m guessing it didn’t go as well as you thought it would?”, your best friend and coworker, Nari responded.

“She said that it’s not believable and that I need to use my own personal experiences as inspiration. I can’t keep writing the same story over and over just changing the names and location. The reader will be able to connect with it more if it’s from experience. I have two months to send her the new story or I’m on unpaid leave until I submit something worth publishing. It’s such bullshit.”, you huffed.

“I mean she kind of has a point. Anyone can put a bunch of words down on a piece of paper, but unless there is real feeling behind it then those words won’t get far.”

You rolled your eyes, “Seriously? You too? And what personal experience should I use?”

“Y/N you’ve been in relationships before. Just use one of them or a combination of all of them.”

“Oh yeah, should I go with the one who cheated on me or the one who ghosted me after he got me in his bed, or the one that would loose his temper at the smallest thing I did to upset him? I’ve never had a good relationship experience.”, you chuckle self deprecatingly.

“Hey Y/N, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to rub it in like that. Maybe try writing something else. Not every story has to be about a relationship, good or bad.”

Running your hands over your face you sighed, “I just don’t know what to do any more. I feel so burnt out and unmotivated. I don’t think I could come up with another story if I wanted to.”

“Why don’t you take a break? You know, get out of town for a while. I’m sure our boss won’t mind, especially if it gets you to clear your head and write something decent.”

Pondering this theory for a minute you began to think she might be on to something.

“Where would I go though? I can’t really afford to travel far and I don’t want to be too distracted that I can’t get anything done.”

After some silence Nari jumped up, “Oh I’ve got the perfect place. It’s just a four hour flight out to the countryside. A little town called, Holly Falls. My sister and her fiancé stayed there several months ago.”

Thinking it over a little it sounded like a good idea. After some begging and promising your boss that you were going to get work done while on the trip she agreed.

Once you arrived at the airport you really wished you’d done a little more research about Holly Falls. After some digging and a conversation with a very outgoing Uber Driver you found out that eleven months out of the year the town is very low key and relaxed, but for one month it is a tourist hotspot thanks to the insane amount of blooming cherry blossom trees. According to your new Uber friend, people come to Holly Falls during this month to see the fields of trees blooming in all their glory. The normally quiet town embraces the crowds providing various festivals and parades and gimmicks to draw in the guests as well as their wallets. And of course you just happen to travel over there smack dab in the middle of it all.

The driver dropped you off in the middle of the fun so with your bag slung over your shoulder you started heading into different hotels trying to book a room. In the city you could walk into pretty much any hotel at any time and book a room. You had assumed it would be same in this small town so you had decided to wait to book a room until you could see them in person wanting to get the feel and make sure you chose the right fit. You imagine in any other month it would be much easier to obtain a place to stay here, but due to the large tourist presence every single hotel was completely booked for the entire month.

You were just about ready to give up and head to the airport to see about booking a flight home when an older gentleman came up to you carrying various handmade trinkets for sale.

“See anything you like miss? All of these are under $10.”, he asked.

Politely you smiled, “No thank you. Not right now.”

You thought he had left until you saw him dangling a hand painted sun catcher in front of you. The design a beautiful beautiful cherry blossom. Trying to bite your tongue and not snap at the elderly man you again shook your head. “Here have it for free. You seem to need a little cheering up.”, he smiled.

Reaching up you grabbed the delicate glass from him, “Thank you. I really appreciate it. I’m sorry if I came off rude. I’m just really stressed out right now.”

“Didn’t know about the cherry blossom season and now you can’t find a place to stay?”, he asked. “How did you know?”, you replied wide eyed. The elderly man chuckled while taking a seat next to you, “There’s always at least one person that gets stuck here with nowhere to stay because they didn’t know how crazy things can get around here this time of the year.”

“Mmh yeah that would be me this year. I need somewhere to stay for a couple weeks or I’m going to have to head back home.” “You know there might be somewhere that still has a room available. It’s just outside all of the hubbub. About ten miles just over that hill. If you get to Taehyung’s Strawberry Farm then you’ve gone too far.”, he said pointing in the opposite direction of the festivities. “Really? You think they’d have a room? I wonder why they wouldn’t be booked like every other place.”

The gentleman stood up from the bench you were both on, “Its worth a shot. It’s a little farther away from all the action than people like to be. Plus the owners are a little on the unique side.”

You were concerned at this statement. The last thing you wanted to do was end up being the story line of a true crime documentary.

He continued, “They are very nice people. A young man and his grandmother. They just tend to be very secluded and to themselves. It’s called Interlude Inn. You can’t miss it.”

You thanked him for the information and watched as he walked into a large group of people trying to sell the rest of his merchandise. Placing the delicate sun catcher in your bag you ordered another Uber to take you over to the inn. A familiar vehicle quickly pulled up in front of you with the same talkative man from earlier. You wondered how there weren’t any other drivers available, but you smiled as you slid in the back seat anyways.

“Leaving so soon?”, he asked.

You chuckled, “No I just need to find somewhere else to stay. Can you please take me to The Interlude Inn?” Suddenly the man stopped, turning to look back at you.

“Miss you don’t want to stay there. Surely there’s somewhere else around here you can stay.”

“Every hotel is completely booked. If this inn doesn’t have a room then I’ll have to just go home.”

He sighed, “Alright miss. If you insist.”

He began the drive to your location. His words about finding somewhere else stuck in your mind.

“Sir?”

“Yes Miss”

“What you said earlier. What is so bad about this inn?”

“Well, the grandma, I think her name is Mae, is very sweet. She’s done the best she can with what she had. But that Min boy, he’s a little odd.”

“Ohhh…Like serial killer odd?”

The man chuckled, “No not that kind of odd. He’s just very quiet and keeps to himself, but he is polite. He’s never seemed to have any friends and I doubt he’s ever had any kind of relationship. He comes into town only a few times a year, mostly when his grandmother needs something. He doesn’t acknowledge anyone, even when they speak to him directly. People usually only stay at the inn as a last resort during this busy season.”

From what you’re hearing he seemed like just a quiet introverted person who loves his grandma. You weren’t sure why everyone seemed so leery of him.

The car pulled up infront of the inn. The large wooden sign out front verified you were indeed at The Interlude Inn. Thanking your driver you grabbed your bag and made your way up to the entrance.

The Inn looked cozy and welcoming. It was smaller than you had imagined. There couldn’t be more than three or four rooms. Off to the side you noticed a little garden with various plants starting to bloom.

On the door hung a welcome sign adorned with hand painted lady bugs and butterflies. Turning the handle you gently pushed in the door being greeted by a heavenly aroma making your stomach grumble. The entrance room which also doubled as a living room had two couches, one on either side of a coffee table. A television hung on the wall above a fireplace. In the corner was a small desk which you assume would be where you could request a room.

Walking over you noticed a younger man crouching down so he was eye level with one of the drawers. He appeared to be about your age, mid to late twenties. Black hair with a slight curl to it hung over his forehead. Beautiful cat like eyes and his soft lips formed into a deep pout. You wanted so badly to reach over and squeeze his chubby cheeks, but you knew that was a weirdness you didn’t want to invoke. He was fidgeting with a drawer that seemed to be stuck and you could here the argument he was having in soft whispers,

“Come on you stupid thing.”

“It shouldn’t be this difficult.”

“Please, I just need a pen and then I’ll leave you alone for the rest of the day.”

You chuckled hearing him begging the drawer to cooperate. Reaching into your bag you grabbed one of your spare pens and set it on the desk, “Here I have a pen you could use.”

The young man let out a sudden squeal after you startled him. He jumped backwards and landed on his behind with a loud thud.

“Oh no I am so sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you. I thought you had heard me come in.”, you apologized feeling terrible.

The poor guy sat on the ground trying to collect himself before bringing himself back to a standing position. That’s when you noticed his cheeks were a bright shade of red, making you want to squeeze them even more. The man didn’t say a word. His eyes were barely able to focus on you, instead they would move around the room before returning to you for just a second before he’d quickly look elsewhere.

“Ahh this must be the Min boy the driver was talking about?”, you thought to yourself. They weren’t kidding when they said he was quiet and reserved.

“Hi, I’m sorry again for scaring you. I was just wondering if you had a room I could rent for a couple weeks.”

The man just continued looking around the room.

“It’s okay if you don’t have any available. It was just recommended for me to come up here for a room since all the others are booked.”

Again silence. You were about to ask if he was okay when a door off to the left swung open and a very sweet looking elderly woman came walking out. She must be the grandmother that was mentioned. She was covered in flour so you assumed that’s where the heavenly smell was coming from.

“Yoongi dear did you get that pen yet? I need to label the jars of blueberry jam.”, she spoke. When she noticed you she jumped slightly, but not in a scared kind of way. More like an oh no how long have you been standing there while my grandson stares at you kind of way.

“Oh hi sweety, how can we help you?”, she asked. Her grandson, that you now knew was named Yoongi, was still standing off to the side. You had to intently stare at his chest to make sure he was still breathing because you were honestly getting very concerned for him.

“Yes ma’am, I was wondering if you had any available rooms that I could rent for the next couple of weeks?”

She smiled while pulling out an old and beat up note book to take down your info. You liked the old school feel. It was much different than the digital kingdom of the city where you lived.

“Of course dear. Did you need one bed or two?”

“Just one will be fine.”

“Okay and you said two weeks?”

“Yes please.”

“No problem. Just fill out your name and address here. Payment will be due at the end of your stay when you check out.”

Quickly you wrote down all the requested information before handing the book back over. You couldn’t help but notice that Yoongi still hadn’t moved, but his cheeks were still a bright shade of pink so you knew he was at least breathing.

The grandma spoke again, “Thank you so much dear. My name is Mae, but you can call me grandma, granny, halmeoni, MaeMae, just don’t call me late for dinner.”

Even though you’ve heard that joke countless times you still laughed. Something about this sweet woman warmed your heart.

She continued, “This is my grandson Yoongi. He can help you with your bags and show you to your room. You’re more than welcome to join us for dinner. It should be ready in about twenty minutes or so.”

You thanked her profusely and watched as she walked back into the kitchen. Yoongi walked around the desk without making eye contact. He reached for your bag that was currently sitting on the ground and you noticed a shake to his hand due to his nerves.

“Uh uh um y-you c-can follow me.”, he spoke before walking down the long hallway. He opened the door to small cozy room. A window sat overlooking the garden. A bed adorned with a lilac colored quilt sat against the wall. There was a dresser available for storage and a desk off to the side. It was perfect.

Yoongi laid your bag down at the foot of the bed. You wanted to ask him if he needed to lie down based on how terrified he looked. Instead you opted to try and get him to speak to you at all.

“Hi Yoongi, I’m Y/N. It’s really nice to meet you.”

You stuck your hand out offering a hand shake. It was getting awkward waiting for him to return the gesture, but just before you were going to dejectedly pull your hand back he reached up and took your hand in his.

With his cheeks back to bright red he quickly bowed and walked out of the room closing the door behind him.

Since dinner was going to be ready soon you opted to just lay in bed enjoying the comfort after a long day of travel. When Mae called you for dinner you entered the dining room surprised to only see her and Yoongi sat at the table.

“Am I the only guest?”, you asked suddenly feeling out of place.

“Yes dear, but don’t worry. We are so happy to have you here.”, she smiled pulling out a chair for you.

You nodded taking the offered seat while she filled up your bowl with some beef soup.

“So Y/N, what brings you to Holly Falls? I’m assuming it’s the cherry blossoms.”, she asked.

“Oh no I just needed to take a little vacation and clear my head. Having some work problems. My friend recommended this town to me. I didn’t even know about the cherry blossoms until I got here.”

“Well you’re going to love it here. There’s no more of a relaxing place.”

You smiled and accepted the second helping of soup. The two of you kept the conversation going talking about this and that. Yoongi never said a word. Out of the corner of your eye you noticed him sneaking little glances in your direction before quickly turning his head but you chose to ignore it, not wanting to embarrass him.

After dinner you offered to help clean up the kitchen which was greatly appreciated. Mae sent Yoongi out to the garden to collect some chamomile to make tea. As she rinsed off the dishes you would take them and dry them before putting them in their respective spots.

“Thank you for being gentle with Yoongi.”, she spoke breaking the silence.

You weren’t quite sure what she meant by that and apparently your face showed it because she continued,

“He really is such a caring and sweet young man. He’s just been hurt so many times and he’s so afraid of letting someone in for fear of it happening again. I worry what will happen to him when I’m no longer here. I don’t want him to be alone. He deserves the world and I hope that one day he finds someone that will give it to him.”

You wanted to ask questions, but felt it wasn’t a good idea to pry when you’ve only known this family for a few hours.

“He seems very sweet. I’d love to get to know him more.”, you responded.

“Oh please do. Go slow, but I think if you keep at it he just might open up to you. As soon as you went to your room he came to me and said you seemed like a very genuine person.”

You felt your cheeks heat up at the thought.

“Do you know if he has any interests or anything? Maybe something I could ask him about.”

She lightly chuckled, “Well he loves music. He has these notebooks that he’s always writing lyrics in, but he has never let anyone look at them. He likes basketball. He was really good when he was younger, but he doesn’t play it much any more. Oh! And you’d never guess it but he likes to knit. He’d be furious if he ever found out I told you that so you didn’t hear that one from me.”

You nodded in agreement before putting the final plate away just as Yoongi returned with the requested chamomile. He shyly smiled at you before nervously running out of the room. After enjoying a cup of tea you said goodnight and made your way back to your room for the evening.

The following morning you cranklily padded to the dining area. Mornings were not your thing. Thankfully you were greeted with the smell of coffee and fresh baked bread. Mae was nowhere to be seen, but Yoongi was standing at the counter chopping some vegetables for what you presumed was an omelet based on all the ingredients in front of him. You stood in the doorway thankful that he hadn’t noticed you yet as it gave you a chance again to admired his features. You smiled at how the tip of his tongue poked out in concentration as he focused on chopping an onion.

Silently you walked up next to him and smiled, “Anything I can help with?” The poor thing nearly jumped two feet in the air also letting the knife slip which sliced the tip of his thumb. When you saw the small amount of blood coming to the surface you panicked.

“Oh my goodness I am so sorry Yoongi. I didn’t mean to scare you like that. What was I thinking?”, you said grabbing his hand and pulling him over to the sink. He hadn’t said a word.

After thoroughly washing the cut and using a paper towel to dry it you asked if there were any bandaids. Shyly he pointed underneath the sink and you found a first aid kit.

“Okay this might sting a little.”, you said applying the disinfectant. You felt awful when you saw his body flinch. After the cut was securely wrapped in a bandaid you began apologizing again, “I’m so sorry Yoongi. This is not how I intended for this to go. Are you going to be okay? Does it hurt still? Is there anything I can do?”

For the first time since you arrived you saw a full blown smile on his face. He shook his head, “N-No thank you. I think I’ll be okay.”

“Well let me help you prepare breakfast. It’s the least I can do.”

After some hesitation he agreed so you cleaned up the work station and got a new cutting board before you got to work chopping the rest of the vegetables. When breakfast was over and you had helped clean up you decided to go back to your room for a while and try to get some work done. Unfortunately things weren’t going that great. You were still struggling to put together a decent storyline and after two hours of staring at your laptop you decided to give up and take a break.

Peaking out the window you noticed Yoongi working in the garden. He looked adorable in his overalls and dark green sweater. A matching green beanie on to give a little more warmth. You wondered if he had knit it himself. You grabbed your jacket and decided to head outside for some fresh air.

Not wanting a repeat from the morning you loudly made your presence known as to not startle him again. Only when you were sure that he had noticed you did you decided to say something.

“What are you working on?”, you asked crouching down next to him.

He whispered something that you couldn’t quite catch. You noticed the redness intensifying in his cheeks too. He was just so incredibly cute.

“What kind of seeds are these?”

“Oh they are um cabbage and um radish seeds.”, he said without looking up from the dirt.

“Hmmm I know nothing about gardening, but isn’t it still too cold to plant these? I always thought it needed to be hot for seeds to grow.”

“S-Some s-seeds can grow when it’s colder out. Then we’ll h-harvest them and p-plant the rest.”

“Ahhh I see. I never even knew that was possible. What else are you planting?”

Did you care about gardening or seeds or soil quality? No absolutely not. But this was the most Yoongi has spoken to you so you rattled off question after question and made odd comments here and there just to get him to keep talking. By the time you were done his face was beet red and his hands were shaking quite a bit more than earlier. You were starting to feel bad and like you were pushing him past his breaking point so you wanted to give him some space.

Standing up and brushing the dirt off your knees you said, “Well it’s gotten quite chilly out. I’m gonna head inside. Thank you for teaching me so much. Maybe one day I’ll have a garden and you could come see it for yourself.”

He nodded without looking up at you and you took that as his way of saying goodbye. Once inside you found a smiling Mae standing in the kitchen.

She handed you hot bowl of leftover soup for lunch and sat at the table next to you.

“You know, that’s the longest I’ve ever seen him converse with someone other than me in a long long time. Normally he’d just get up and walk away without saying a word.”

The thought of asking about Yoongi’s past crossed your mind again, but you pushed it aside still not feeling that it was the right time.

The next couple days followed a similar path. You’d wake up, help Yoongi make breakfast, try to work for a little, and then you’d go find Yoongi and try to talk to him and get him to open up to you. He never said much but he’d nod or say a word here or there to let you know he was listening. Mae would always be amazed at how well Yoongi responded to you. After a while you’d give him some space and then join the two of dinner followed by tea and then you’d head off to bed.

On the fifth day you decided to go out and explore a little. You ended up at Taehyung’s Strawberry farm which was just up the road from the Inn. Taehyung or Tae as he told you to call him was a very kind and outgoing guy. The farm had been passed down in his family for six generations. He gave you a tour of the entire farm and introduced you to his farmhands/friends Jin, Hoseok, Namjoon, and Jungkook. Jin was in charge of harvesting the strawberries and also coming up with new items to sell at the onsite bakery. Hoseok or Hobi as he was called was in charge of maintenance of the crops, things like making sure they got enough water but not too much water and pruning the plants where necessary. Namjoon was the bookkeeper. He kept track of orders and anything numbers related. Jungkook was the youngest of the four. According to Tae, he was the muscle of the group and would do various things around the farm that involved a lot of physical strength.

They all seemed like very sweet gentleman and made you feel very welcome from the start.

“So what brings you all the way out here? Most people try to stay closer to the main town this time of year.”, Jin asked setting a strawberry cream puff in front of you.

“I wasn’t able to get a room in town so I’m staying at The Interlude Inn.”

“I see. With Mae and Yoongi? How are they doing? I’ve been meaning to stop by and drop off a strawberry pie for them.”

“They seem to being doing well. They’ve been so hospitable.”

“Even Yoongi?”, Jungkook said taking a seat next to you. You noticed a hint of a chuckle in his question.

“Yes even Yoongi. He’s on the quiet side, but I think he’s starting to warm up to me a little bit.”

“Wow he must really like you then. I’ve been trying to get him to open up for years.”, Taehyung said walking over.

“What do you mean?”, you asked confused as to why everyone always seems to think he’s some cold jerk.

He continued, “We’ve just been trying to get him to hang out with us for the last few years. I’ve offered him multiple jobs around here. We’ve invited him over for dinner or to go get drinks in town. Namjoon tried to set him up on a date with his sister. He just always turns and walks away without saying a word. We’ve kind of just given up.”

“Oh yeah I guess maybe I’m just special then.”, you said before taking another bite of the cream puff.

It was pretty late by the time you had gotten back to the inn. Jin had given you a ride back as it looked like there was an early spring thunderstorm about to hit. When you walked inside you set the strawberry pie on the counter. Mae had already gone to sleep, but Yoongi was sitting in the common area watching a basketball game. He looked so cozy wrapped up in a hoodie that was a little too big for him and a fluffy fleece blanket on his lap. Now that you thought about it he was always dressed very warmly. Sweatshirts, sweaters, or multiple layers all with long sleeves. You’ve never seen any skin other than his hands and neck and face. It was on the chilly side being that it was barely the beginning of the spring, but nothing that you thought warranted that kind of clothing constantly. It was odd to you, but nothing you wanted to question him about right now because maybe it was just a comfort thing for him you thought. Instead you walked over to the couch making your presence known so that you didn’t startle him.

“Mind if I join you?”, you asked. Silently he scooted over to make room and you took that as a yes. You watched the game for a few minutes trying to come up with something to say, but you really didn’t know much about basketball or sports in general.

“Is that Michael Jordan?”, you asked after the camera followed a player who had just scored a basket.

Yoongi’s eyebrows furrowed as he shook his head.

“Lebron James?”

He shakes his head.

“Steph Curry?”

Again another head shake.

You chuckled, “Well those are the only basketball players I know so I give up.”

Out of the corner of your eye you saw the slightest smile from on his lips which you took as encouragement to continue.

“Oh so did he just score a touchdown?”, you asked. In reality you knew that was a completely different sport, but you were hoping that somehow this would get a little engagement on his part.

You looked at him expectantly noticing his cheeks heat up under your stare.

“Umm n-no that was a free throw, not a touchdown.”

“Hmm and a free throw is worth one or two points?”

“It’s w-worth one point.”

You didn’t want to over stress him out so you decided to give him some quiet and stop with the questions for a while.

The referee in the game blew his whistle and started making a bunch of hand gestures. You were about to lean over and ask about it when a bright flash of light shown through the windows followed by a loud clap of thunder. The floor beneath your feet seemed to shake from the force. Another flash of light lit up the room and some more thunder hit making even you jump a little.

“Wow that’s some storm.”, you said looking over at Yoongi only to be met with nothing.

“Yoongi?”, you question looking around the room wondering how he was able to get up and run so fast.

After standing up from the couch and walking towards the kitchen to see if maybe he had went in there you saw the fleece blanket he was holding earlier leaning up against the back of the couch and thanks to the added light from another lightning strike you noticed that the blanket was also covering a lump. Getting closer you saw little tufts of black hair poking out. Gently you reached and pulled the blanket down slightly. You could feel your heart breaking seeing him like this. Curled up in a ball with his hands over his ears and tears on his cheeks.

“Yoongi it’s okay. It’s just a thunderstorm.”, you said trying to soothe him. When your words didn’t seem to help you went to reach for his hand feeling him tense at your touch.

“No please don’t hurt me. Please.”, he cried out making you recoil. “Yoongi it’s Y/N. I’m not going to hurt you. Just let me get you to be-.” You felt a hand on your should and found Mae looking down at you with a sad expression on her face. She bent down the best she could in her old age to get his attention and when he finally recognized her the tension seemed to leave his body, at least momentarily until another crack of thunder rang through the air.

Mae helped him up off the ground and you’d stayed m back watching as she helped him down the hall, his legs shaking ever so slightly. Just before they entered his room Mae turned to you and pointed towards the kitchen. You took the hint and went to get a couple cups of tea ready.

After about fifteen minutes she returned and took a seat next to you thanking you for the tea.

“I’m sorry you had to see that.”, she sighed.

“No I just, I don’t, I…”, you couldn’t find the words. You knew it was slightly odd for a grown adult to be that petrified of a thunderstorm, but you knew there must be a reason. Judging by Mae’s reaction this seemed to be a common occurrence. You just didn’t know how to move forward without sounding rude.

“Mae, please forgive me if this comes off to forward or harsh, but has some thing happened to Yoongi in his past?”

She took a sip of tea before getting more comfortable in the chair and nodding her head.

“Yes dear. Yoongi, my sweet sweet Yoongi, has been through a lot. More than any person should have to especially at his young age. You see Yoongi’s father left a few weeks after he was born. Yoongi was born too early and was very small and sickly. His father didn’t want any part of his life. My daughter did the best she could with Yoongi. I helped whenever I could as well. She was such a loving mother. When Yoongi was about two years old she married a man who I didn’t necessarily approve of, but there was nothing I could do. She was an adult and she seemed happy. He quickly moved my daughter and Yoongi to the other side of the country. I only got to see them a couple times year. I started to have suspicions that something was wrong when Yoongi was four years old. I went to visit and noticed that my daughter and Yoongi both had old bruises. When I questioned it my daughter claimed that she tripped while carrying him and fell down some stairs. Then when Yoongi was six he told me how he had heard his mom and stepdad in their bedroom making lots of noise. His mom was yelling and there were loud bangs, but he couldn’t hear what she was saying. I questioned her once again and she said that her and her husband must’ve just gotten too loud while in bed together and that she’d remind him in the future that they needed to be quieter. I wasn’t completely convinced, but I had no other proof.”

Mae took a long breath clear that this was hard for her to recall and you were starting to feel guilty for even asking.

She continued on, “When Yoongi was about seven his mom got very sick and unfortunately passed away. I tried to visit him more, but as time went on his step dad cut me off more and more. I tried getting a court involved, but he was considered his legal guardian and without any significant proof there was nothing they could do. So I tried to do what I could. Over time I noticed a change in Yoongi. He was sadder, seemed more down on himself. I rarely ever saw that smile that used to melt my heart. He was having a hard time at school. The friends he had stopped hanging out with him. Then one day when he was around thirteen he said something back to his stepdad and his stepdad beat him so badly the neighbors ended up calling the police because of the noise.”

She stopped to take a shaky breath. Tears forming in her eyes. You hadn’t even noticed that you had started biting your bottom lip trying to stop your own tears from falling until the subtle taste of blood hit your tongue.

Once again she continued, “Thankfully his stepfather was arrested that night and eventually sentenced to forty five years in prison, but it was already too late and the damage was done. When I got to the hospital that night they started showing me different x-rays and scans and going over Yoongi’s injuries. It was worse than I had ever thought. There were old fractures that hadn’t healed correctly. Scars both fresh and old covered his body from where his stepfather would beat him with a tree branch or use his skin to put out his cigarettes. He had torn his shoulder at one point and because it was never properly taken care of he’s always in pain, even to this day. He had surgery to correct it, but it only helped a little. I cried in the hospital. He was released after a week and came to live here with me. I was taking him to therapy a couple times a week and he seemed to be getting on the right track. He was smiling more and getting a little more talkative. I had enrolled him in the high school here and he made a couple friends. I knew there’d always be a part of him that struggled, but I thought that maybe he was going to be able to move past all of this for the most part and go on to have a happy healthy life. When he was in his second to last year of high school there was going to be a big dance and after some convincing he asked a girl to go with him as a date and she said yes. So I got him a brand new suit and the day of the dance we went and picked out a beautiful bouquet of flowers. I offered to drive him, but he didn’t want to be embarrassed by his grandma driving him around, you know how teenagers are. So I watched him walk out the door.”

Mae took a moment to composer herself by staring out the kitchen window. You in no way wanted to rush her.

She took another sip and then went on, “I was in the kitchen a little while later when I heard the front door swing open and slam back shut. I thought it was much too early for Yoongi to be home already and assumed it must be some guests so I cleaned myself up real quick and walked out to greet them, but instead…instead I found Yoongi with tears streaming down his cheeks and then I noticed his suit was covered in brightly colored paint. He still had the bouquet of flowers in his hand except they were now all damaged and dirty. He refused to tell me what happened and ran off to his room. Monday morning I went to the school and apparently the girl and some of her friends, including her actual date, were all waiting for Yoongi to show up at the school. When he got there they all poured cans of paint onto him and called him a freak and a monster. I was told that one of the other boys saw Yoongi’s scars when they were changing for gym class and started making fun of him for it. This girl had no intention of actually going to the dance with him and told him he was ugly and would never be loved because of the way he looked. I tried to have all of those kids reprimanded, but Yoongi refused to cooperate so the school said their hands were tied. He begged me to take him out of school and homeschool him instead which I did, but he’s been pretty much to himself ever since.”

By this point you were full on balling your eyes out. You hadn’t known him for very long, but you could just tell that he was such a sweet gentle person. You didn’t think there could possibly be any thing else that Mae could tell you, but she cleared her throat and went on,

“Honestly, I think the worst thing that ever happened to him was the letter he received from his biological father on his twenty first birthday. I actually still have the letter. I’ve been holding onto it because I think it would be beneficial for Yoongi to be the one to destroy it, but I don’t know how to bring it up to him.”

She slid the letter across the table to you. Shakily you opened it up and immediately noticed the tear smudged ink and you took a deep breath trying to compose yourself before diving in,

“To Yoongi,

You most likely have no idea who I am, but I am your biological father. I left not long after you were born and if my calculations are correct you should be twenty one years old today. You were born early, somehow I’m certain that was your mothers fault even though the doctors said it was not. Anyways, you were born very small and sick. The doctors did not know if you would make it and to be honest I spent most of the time hoping that you wouldn’t. I did not want the burden of having a son, especially a first born, that was weak and useless. I gave your mother an ultimatum, either abandon you and we will move on and have a child that will prosper and do well in life or she can keep you and I will leave. Obviously you see what she chose. I heard that your mother has passed away since then. She was an ignorant woman anyways, wasting her time with a child like you. I told her that you weren’t worth the time which has been proven by the fact that you still live with your grandmother working at that stupid inn. You’ll never be anything more than that. I don’t really know the point of this letter any more. I guess I’m just a little drunk and wanted to get this off my chest after all of these years. Yoongi, I do wish you well. Truly I do because I know deep down that you’ll never achieve it. With regret, Your Father.”

You don’t know at what point you went from crying to blood boiling anger, but it happened.

“What the actual fuck!”, you shouted slamming the letter down on the table. “Sorry, excuse my language.”, you said towards Mae suddenly feeling bad about your outburst. She chuckled, “Don’t worry dear. I said much much worse when I read that letter.”

You continued, “Seriously? Who does something like that? And to their own child on top of it? You walked out of his life let him be. That letter was completely unnecessary. I swear I’m gonna hunt him down and kill him myself.”

Mae shook her head, “No need Y/N. After he dropped the letter off at the post office he drunkingly crashed his car into a tree. Killed him instantly. Unfortunately though, Yoongi never really recovered from this letter. He’s been very reserved and depressed ever since. He’s refused therapy or any help that I offer. I’ve tried for many years to get him to make friends or find a partner or just get out of the house and experience life. I won’t be here forever and I want him to find someone and just be happy for the rest of his time.”

While you would normally never wish harm on anyone it did bring you some joy knowing that his father was no longer around and could never hurt Yoongi again.

“Y/N, I’m sorry to drop all of this on you, but I thought you should get an explanation for what you saw earlier and why he is the way that he is. Yoongi can be kind of jumpy around loud noises and sudden movements and things like that. Please don’t run away from him. I’ve seen him smile more in the week you’ve been here than he has in months. He just sees something in you. I can tell. Call it grandmas intuition if you will. I know you’ll soon have to go back home, but I’m really hoping that maybe you’ll keep in touch with him. No pressure of course. I wouldn’t blame you for not doing it, but I just really think you could be a big positive in his life.”, she said before walking her mug over to the sink.

“Thank you for telling me all of this. I’m sure it was difficult to recount everything.”, you said almost in a whisper. She smiled before laying a hand on your shoulder, “Get some rest Y/N. I’m gonna head off to bed myself. These old bones are tired.”

As you laid in bed you could still hear the faint rumblings of thunder from miles away. You wondered what Yoongi was doing. You hoped he was peacefully sleeping in his bed, but you knew most like that wasn’t the case. It pained your heart to think about what he’d been through. No one deserved to ever have those things happen to them and you decided in that moment that you were going to try and help him. You yourself felt the connection that Mae keeps talking about and you were starting think that maybe things do happen for a reason.

The following morning when you woke up your body felt sore from the stress you experienced. Your first reaction was to go and find Yoongi, but you also knew that he was most likely going to feel embarrassed about what had happened the night before so you opted to take a seat at the desk and try to get some work done. After about an hour and only a couple paragraphs written the smell of bacon started to fill the air and the sound of your stomach grumbling in hunger followed not long after. In the kitchen you found Mae at the stove tending to the bacon. “Would you like some coffee Y/N?”, she smiled. You nodded happily taking the cup from her. Yoongi was already sitting at the table peeling some carrots and potatoes for what you assumed would become part of dinner later. You tried your best to act causally as you took a seat a chair away from him to give him some space.

Mae walked over and set a plate of eggs down in the middle of the table along with the bacon. After Yoongi cleared the vegetables that he was working on the three of you began eating your breakfast.

Mae peaked over at you and with a sly grin she began, “Y/N, thank you for bringing that strawberry pie from Taehyung’s last night. I already snuck a piece as I just couldn’t help myself.”

“Oh you’re very welcome. It did look delicious.”, you replied waiting to see where she was going with this.

“I’m going to make them a big pot of pork stew. It’ll be a good hearty meal for them while they work on the farm. I was thinking that maybe you and Yoongi could take it over to them when it’s finished.”

Now you get it. It was an easy yes for you. You really did like all of the boys from the farm and it would be a chance to spend a little time with Yoongi, but you couldn’t help but notice how red his cheeks had gotten once again and his shoulders visibly tensed. You weren’t going to force him by any means.

“Uh yeah sure that’s no problem for me. I can go alone though if Yoongi doesn’t want to go.”

“Yoongi would you be okay taking some stuff over to the farm with Y/N? For me please.”, Mae asked placing her hand on top of his.

“Okay.”, he whispered with his eyes focused on his lap.

A few hours later your little cart was packed up with a large pot of the stew and some fresh bread and jam. You and Yoongi headed off towards the farm. The first half of the walk was silent other than a few birds or rustle of leaves here or there.

“I’m sorry about last night. If I had known it was going to storm I would’ve stayed in my room to not disturb you.”, he spoke startling you out of your thoughts.

“Yoongi you don’t have to be sorry. And please don’t ever hide who you are from anyone. If they can’t handle who you are then they don’t deserve you in their life.”

He nodded in understanding pulling on his ear. A nervous habit of his. Feeling a little brave you reached for his hand to give it a light squeeze. He jumped slightly, but for a few seconds he let you hold him before removing his touch from yours. You were going to take that as a win.

Entering the strawberry farm you were quickly greeted by Jin and Namjoon. “Hi Y/N, didn’t expect to see you back so soon.”, Jin smiled.

“Mae wanted us to bring over some stew and bread as a thank you for the pie.”, you responded handing over the items from the cart. Jungkook appears out of nowhere excitedly grabbing the bread and jam from you.

“Jeeze I haven’t seen this kid all day, but as soon as food is involved he magically appears.”, Jin rolled his eyes. Taehyung came walking over after noticing your arrival. He wrapped you in a big hug and began making small talk. You could feel Yoongi’s presence behind you. He was almost using your body to shield himself away from everyone.

Taehyung gestured for you to follow him, “Y/N and Yoongi come on into the bakery. We’ve got a new strawberry milk latte we just put on the menu and I want your opinion. Personally I think it’s wayyyy too sweet, but Jin thinks it could be award winning.”

Jin scoffed, “You don’t even like coffee so your opinion means nothing.”

“I think it’s amazing.”, Jungkook added.

“You’d drink lake water and say it was good if we put a flavored milk in it.”, Namjoon quipped.

Chuckling at the argument going on infront of you it took about twelve steps before you realized your shadow was not behind you. When you turned you saw Yoongi was already walking back towards the path to the inn. Namjoon came up behind you and gave you a nudge in Yoongi’s direction and you knew what he meant. Jogging up next to him you reached for his arm, but opted not to as you’d quickly learned touch is not his first choice.

“Hey where are you going? Come hang out with us at the bakery.”, you said once you caught up to him.

He simply shook his head and kept walking.

“They’re really nice guys. They were asking about you yesterday. I think you’d really like them if you gave them a chance.”

Still he continued walking in silence. Without thinking you reached out to grab his arm just in an attempt to stop him, but he flinched.

“No. I just want to be left alone. Please.”, he whimpered near tears.

Instantly you backed off with your hands in the air to give him space and show that you weren’t going to touch him.

“I’m sorry Yoongi. I won’t force you to hang out with them. I just wanted you to get to know them a little. I think it would be good for you.”

He ignored you and began walking back home again. You sent Taehyung a quick text apologizing for your sudden departure and letting him know you’d stop by on a different day to try the latte before you left. Yoongi walked surprisingly fast so you had to go back into a light jog to catch up. You decided to hang back a little and not walk right next to him so you weren’t suffocating him. You pretended not to notice him peeking back to look at you every once in a while.

As you walked you noticed a few cherry blossom trees just over a hill. You’d completely forgot about the trees and made yourself a mental note to go see them before you left Holly Falls. When you finally made it back to the inn Yoongi was waiting for you at the front door.

“You didn’t have to walk back with me. I’m an adult and I could walk back myself.”, he said with a pout.

“I know. I just wanted to come back with you.”

“But what about hanging out with them?”

You shrugged your shoulders, “I’ll go back another time. I’d rather hang out with you anyways.” His face instantly turned a deep shade of red.

“So tell me, what does Yoongi like to do in his spare time?”, you questioned.

“I’d rather just be alone to be honest.”

You wanted to push him harder, but you were concerned with what the outcome might be so instead you gave him a smile and watched as be walked inside letting the door close behind him. Dropping down to take a seat on the steps you let out a long sigh. This was going to be more difficult than you had imagined and to make matters worse you were only supposed to stay for another week.

“Excuse me miss, are there any rooms available?”, someone spoke making you to jump. Since your head was hanging you hadn’t noticed the young man walk up to the front door of the inn. You took in his appearance and noticed how exceptionally handsome he was.

“I just came from the main part of the town and there are no rooms available so it was suggested that I come over here.”, he continued.

“Oh um well I think there might be a couple rooms left, but I’m just a guest as well. If you head inside the check in desk is in the corner and they can help you out.”

The handsome man held out his hand for you, “Sorry I didn’t mean to assume anything. My name is Jimin by the way.”

You smiled graciously accepting his hand, “Y/N and no worries. Hopefully you can get a room. It would be nice to have another person around here to talk to and stuff.”

He chuckled, “Well I guess I better get in there then and see about a room.”

You gently leaned to the side to give home more space to get by before you returned back to wondering how you could get Yoongi to open up to you a little more without making him too uncomfortable.

After he had walked inside Yoongi took a deep breath and after a quick heated discussion with himself going over all the pros and cons he decided that giving you twenty minutes of his time to talk would be good for him and maybe over time he could work up the courage to actually spend time with you, maybe even like a date before you left. The thought of that made his head spin. Just as he was about to open the door to find you he heard your conversation with Jimin and how you said you were glad there was going to be someone else at the inn. He felt his heart crack at that. In Yoongi’s brain you were already done with him just like everyone else in his life, except his grandmother of course. He always managed to chase everyone away. He quickly accepted that he was a lost cause so he scurried off to be alone in his room before you or the new guest could see him. Once in his room he heard you introduce Jimin to Mae. Your voice sounded excited as you showed Jimin to his room just down the hall from yours.

Yoongi sat on his bed squeezing his favorite stuffed animal, a blue koala bear named Koya, a gift from his mother just before she had passed.

He heard you let out a loud laugh at something funny Jimin had said and he curled up on his bed feeling the tears start to fall.

He hated that he was like this. He wanted to be what he would consider normal, but there was this little part of his brain that always reminds him of what he’s been through and how many times he been told how unwanted and unloved he is. Even if he did manage to speak to you he’d never want to burden you with having someone like him in your life. He needs a lot of mental care and you don’t deserve to have someone that week. So he chose to lie in his bed squeezing his Koya a little closer every time he heard you laugh in the hallway wishing it was him that was making react like that instead. Your laugh was just as pretty as you are he thought. With each passing minute he could feel the panic setting in more and more and he eventually used the koala bear to muffle the sobs leaving his body not wanting to disturb you any further.

#bts #yoongi fanfic #yoongi x reader #min yoongi #yoongi fic #yoongi angst #yoongi x y/n #bts fanfic #bts x reader #yoongi au #yoongi fluff #bts fluff #kim seokjin #namjoon #jungkook #taehyung #jimin #hoseok #TheInterludeInn

[luveline]

wait hear me out.. bodyguard!sirius au 🫣

for you my love (new au let’s goooo) | fem!reader ♥︎ 1.2k

Sirius Black is possibly the worst person in the world they could've chosen to assign as your bodyguard. He's an excellent bodyguard, has proven this swiftly and with finesse on two separate occasions, and still, you struggle to settle under his watch. 

He's terrifying. Not because he's a bodyguard, though the lean muscle of his naked arms is intimidating, and he's very tall, but because he's beautiful. Silken black hair that he keeps tied up in a small half-bun behind his neck frames an angular face. He has dark, sweet eyelashes that point straight, and similarly dark brows that seem permanently arched in bemusement. 

You feel on pins under his gaze at all times, desperate for him to think the same. Desperate to be beautiful in that same effortless manner. 

"Relax," he chides, a hand curled firmly over your bare shoulder. 

You don't deny you're tense. He should know by now that you're more often than not in a panic, like your body's made up of frayed nerves. 

"Can't we go home?" you ask. 

"Afraid not, sweetness." 

You watch your mother move across the stage where she's hosting and sigh. "I hate politics." 

He laughs. "No, you hate your mother. Politics are important." 

"My mother's politics have never once been important," you say. "She should campaign against things that are actually important. Like rising austerity, or the mistreatment of homeless people." 

"Now, don't say that," he drawls, his breath warm against your ear. "Think of all those poor pigeons she's saving tonight." 

"It's absurd." 

Sirius hums. "While I don't think your mother's on the wrong side of things, I agree that her campaign is ridiculous. Every new ordinance puts you at risk." 

Your mother's political career is a drop in the ocean, but a couple of months ago she'd managed to draw the attention of one alt-right group in particular. A letter threatening your life had arrived in the mail, and Sirius has been by your side pretty much ever since. You do wish, selfishly, that she would stop this. You're an adult, and you've less privacy than a child now that you're constantly supervised. 

"Sometimes, I think she loves pigeons more than me," you mumble. 

Sirius laughs, delighted by your joke, and pats your shoulder. His hand burns your skin, you swear. You're gonna look down and see his handprint branded into you. 

"You're much prettier than a pigeon, doll. I'd choose you." 

Why is his hand on your shoulder? You can't remember. He'd been moving you out of the way, maybe, and forgotten to take it back. You hate that he's touching you, worried he can feel the capering beat of your heart, but you prefer him behind you than in front. He can't see your face, you can't see his. 

Like he can read your mind and he hates you, he turns you to face him. 

"Shall we go outside for a bit?" he asks. 

You blink. Sirius doesn't usually ask you if you want to do things. He may work for your mother but you're still the boss (kind of). He tries to let you do whatever it is you want to do. 

"Okay," you say. 

He leads you out to the patio with a hand just barely touching your back. Outside, the summer night air is warm, and the sky is a wash of pinks and yellow. It's oddly quiet.

You creep curiously to the stone railing and look down over a perfectly manicured garden, hedges shaped like flamingos and a mosaic veranda surrounding the centrepiece, a marble fountain in the shape of a baby. Rich people spend their money on the damndest things.

"I was hoping you'd feel more comfortable out here." 

You sigh as he comes to stand beside you. No hopes of that when he's near.

"But you're tense everywhere we go," he adds. 

"'M just tired," you say. 

"Are you?" He leans against the railing on his elbows and doesn't look at you. Sirius takes such big gaps between speaking that sometimes you assume he's done. "I have a theory." 

You stretch your hands out over the railing, more than enough space between you both. The stone is like pumice, gritty and pocked full of holes. It scratches your palms. 

"I think," —he turns his face to yours, expression disarmingly impassive— "I make you nervous." 

You think? 

You catch your own smile too late. Sirius sees it too, and his eyes crease as he squints at you mildly. His eyelashes, those dark thickets, meet in the corners. You stare at them, your gaze skipping over his light irises, his unusually large pupils. 

He looks rather cat-like. 

"I do," he says. 

"I– Yeah. Yeah, you make me nervous. Your presence is a reminder, you know, that I'm not safe." 

"Ah, but that's not true. You're very safe with me, pretty girl. Haven't I proved that already?" He smirks at you. "No, you're nervous, and it isn't because of my job." 

Sirius moves almost lazily. His head tips to one side, a short curl fluttering against his cheek. 

"So what is it?" 

How do you explain it? He's gorgeous, and his good looks paired with his smooth demeanour leaves you off kilter. You don't mean to be so weird, but your lips move of their own accord. 

"Do you think I'm pretty?" you ask him, insecurity much too obvious in your tone. 

The smugness he'd been entertaining drains. He stands a little straighter. 

"Sorry," you say, cringing. "You don't have to answer, I know it's a loaded question. Uh, I think that's why you make me so nervous, is all. You're really handsome, and I've never been anything special, mum always says it’s a shame they haven’t found a more natural alternative to plastic surgery–“

“What?”

You snap out of your tangent, flushed with heat. “Sorry.”

“Your mum thinks you need plastic surgery?”

“No, but. You know, we’re on TV sometimes, she wants us to look perfect.”

“You are perfect.”

You shrink at his sharp tone, but you realise that it isn’t you he’s directing his anger at. It takes a moment for his statement to sink in, and when it does, you can’t not smile. You cover your mouth to hide it unconsciously. 

Sirius doesn’t back down from his declaration, though the anger melts from his expression, leaving behind a chest-pounding earnestness. 

“Yes, I think you’re pretty. If that’s what you’re worried about, please. Don’t be.”

Speechless, you nod jerkily, as if a puppeteer controls your movements. Applause sounds loudly from the open patio doors, and Sirius straightens up fully. 

“Best go back in, angel. She’ll want pictures.”

Again, you can’t find the words to answer him. His anger at the idea that someone might find you unattractive sloshes around in your head. You're surprised you don’t tip over. Luckily, you have a guiding hand on your shoulder to lead you back inside. 

“Perfect pictures,” he says quietly. 

#sirius x you #sirius orion black #sirius black x reader #sirius black x you #sirius x reader fluff #sirius black imagine #marauders era #marauders #sirius black drabble #sirius black fanfic #sirius black fanfiction #the marauders #bodyguard!sirius black #bodyguard!sirius #sirius black blurb #sirius black

[buckyownsmylife]

Don’t hurt yourself - bodyguard!Aaron Hotchner smut

The one where Hotch’s responsible for your safety

Word count: 2k

Warnings: smut, boss-employee relationship, angsty vibes, a whole lot of feels, dirty talk, one darker thought, kind of breeding kink?

Y/N’s P.O.V.

“Are you ready to leave?” I winced at the cold and detached tone from my bodyguard. This isn’t how he usually talked to me. Sure, he was nothing but cold and stoic when we first met and he started working for me, but it’d been over a year now. I believed we were friends now.

Of course, it was hard to believe that when he didn’t even so much as glance in my direction as he guided me outside of the building, protecting me from the crowds of screaming fans that I’d been so eager to please when I first arrived for this interview.

If only I’d known it would make him this angry.

The drive back to my house was silent, and I hated it. I hated it because it reminded me of those early days when I was still so unsure of him, unsure of how he felt about me. I was sure that he despised me. And my eager-to-please personality just couldn’t stand it.

Now that I knew that he liked me, his silence meant something even worse: his disappointment and anger. And I hated the thought of him being even discontented by my behaviour.

“Are you really going to ignore me forever?” The question escaped me before I could process it, making him stop in his tracks as he prepared himself to storm into my house and hide in his own designated wing. But I didn’t regret it once it was out. I much preferred to have him looking at me with fire in his eyes than pretending I didn’t exist at all.

“Isn’t this what you wanted? I mean, you ignored me earlier today, when I asked you not to go out into that crowd. Why shouldn’t I give you the same treatment?” I shifted uncomfortably, not wanting to deal with the realization that he was right, that I had disrespected him.

“I’m sorry.” It felt pathetic, especially since I couldn’t raise my eyes to meet his, but it was all I had, and if anything, it was honest. But when he scoffed, I knew it wouldn’t be enough, and I started to panic as I pondered what else I could do to make him forgive me.

“I don’t want you to be sorry, I want you to listen to me. Why can’t you?” I didn’t know what to answer, but he didn’t seem to need it. He was on a roll now, and I knew it wasn’t the right time, but I found myself getting tongue-tied by the way the veins of his neck jumped out now that he was releasing his anger on me.

“This is my job,” he continued. “I’m supposed to keep you safe. I can’t do that if you don’t listen to what I ask you to do. Do you know what could have happened while you were out there, in a crowd of overexcited, uncoordinated people?”

“Yes.”

“Then why did you do it anyway?” He let himself fall on my couch, jaw still clenched, irritation perfectly clear in each and every one of his movements. And so I took a seat next to him, trying to figure out what I could possibly say to hopefully make this better, but I decided to start by putting a comforting hand on his thigh.

His eyes immediately followed my movement, and he stared at where I touched him for a while before raising his gaze to meet mine again. Anger had been somewhat replaced by hurt, and another sentiment I couldn’t quite identify.

“I don’t want to have to deal with your death. I can’t even bear the thought of that happening.” It was fear, I realized. Fear of losing me. And that feeling was so real, so heavy, so suffocating, that it had my own heart constricting, and I squeezed his thigh so he’d know I felt it too.

“It would be a lot of paperwork,” I tried to lighten the mood, but I knew he heard the unshed tears in my tone. They weren’t tears of fear, but of guilt. I hated that the bravest man I knew was scared, and I hated that I was the cause of it.

“Don’t even joke about that.” There was so much emotion behind his words that he had me raising my gaze to meet his, and what I saw there this time made me lose my breath. “I can’t lose you. And I don’t mean that as in I don’t want to be responsible for your death, but as in I can’t live without you.”

And suddenly I knew. He didn’t have to tell me - he was begging me not to ask him to say it, in fact. I could see that. But I knew. I knew him so well, I didn’t know how I didn’t see it before.

Maybe because I’d been so busy trying to hide my own love for him, I ignored his. It was easier that way, after all. Because it was obvious - the second we knew what the other felt, we would never be able to pretend it wasn’t there anymore.

“Kiss me,” I pleaded, and his eyes widened like he wasn’t expecting it. “Kiss me. Right now.” His eyes dropped to my lips as his opened up like he was actually tempted but just couldn’t find it in himself to do it. I’d leaned over his body now, practically on his lap, when his hands went around my torso to hold me over my lower back.

“I don’t want to kiss you,” he said, making me pout. And still, his eyes never left my lips while he licked his. “I want to knock some sense into you. Can’t be rewarding this kind of behaviour.”

His words thrilled me, sending a jolt of excitement through my body that had me actually throwing my leg on the other side of his lap so I could straddle him properly. His breath was coming out of his mouth now, his gaze undecided between my mouth or my eyes.

“Punish me in other ways,” I pleaded. He looked transfixed by what I was saying. “Make me cum until I cry. Make it hurt. Have me begging you to stop. I want to feel you for days.” He was breathing heavier now, his chest heaving with the effort to keep inhaling and exhaling because of my words.

Hotch’s P.O.V.

“Please, put me in my place.” Her words were like honey, spilling out sweet and tempting from her beautiful lips that were just inches from mine now. I wanted to reach out and touch them. I wanted to reach out and lick them, taste her words as she said them against my mouth. “I’ll be good then. I promise.”

There was only so much a man could take.

“Once I’m done with you...” I warned her, wrapping her nape with my hand and pulling her even closer. “... you won’t be able to walk.” And then I finally kissed her.

It was hungrier than I ever intended our first kiss to be, but she had made me desperate. Her sweetness only added to my need for more. Our lips danced together in a way I’d only dreamed of, and when I had to let us part to breathe, her question took away the last of my control.

“Promise?”

I carried her to her bedroom blindly, relishing in the weight of her in my arms, the feeling of her legs wrapped around my body as I managed to kiss her again the entire way there. Once she was back on her own feet, our clothes were sent flying across the room, her smaller hands trembling in excitement when she reached out to undo the buttons of my shirt.

“God, you’re beautiful,” I commented, cradling her face once her body was completely exposed to me. It prompted her to throw her arms around my neck and pull me down for another kiss, but it still wasn’t enough. I wanted more of her - I wanted all of her.

“Lay down,” I ordered. “You’re not going to succeed in making me forget this is supposed to be a punishment.” The haze of lust in her eyes betrayed just how aroused she was at the idea of suffering in my hands. “Spread that glistening little pussy for me, baby.”

Slowly, because she knew I was not a patient man, she opened her legs to show me just how wet she already was with the little we’d done that evening, her hands squeezing her own breasts as she stared up at me, throat dry and chest heaving with desire for her.

She awakened something dark in me, something I never thought I’d be able to explore. Now that she was here, ready and willing and exposed, I wasn’t sure I’d ever be able to just tuck it away again.

Making sure that she was watching me, I leaned over her already wet cunt and spit on it, unwilling to make this situation hurtful to her in any way, but also incapable of actually taking my time to prepare her thoroughly.

“Are you sure you really want this?” I asked, eyes connected to hers as I smeared my spit over her hole, watching her clench around nothing at the ghost of my digit. This was the last chance to back down, and although I wasn’t sure if I would actually be able to pull away if she changed her mind, I knew I needed to hear the answer.

“Yes, oh, God, Aaron, please!” The words were replaced with me pushing into her, groaning at the tightness that welcomed me hungrily. She whined out loud and I froze halfway in, scared I’d hurt her somehow, but at the lack of movement her limbs wrapped around me, her legs pushing my ass in an effort to get me to bottom out inside of her.

Her satisfied moan had me chuckling, even though I was over the moon myself. Old habits die hard, I guess, and I just had to tease her, “Oh, does that feel good?” All she could do was nod, but that was alright. We were both ready for me to start truly fucking her, and at the feeling of me almost pulling out to slam myself in again, she cried out, hands clawing at my back, hopefully leaving indentations.

“You like that, princess?” I’d only ever used the pet name before to mock her, and although there was definitely some sense of jest in my tone, there was still sweetness, wonder, infatuation. She nodded once more, mouth having fallen open after I entered her, leading me to kiss the corner of her lips instead of devouring her in the way I wished to do.

“This is what I’m gonna do every time you disobey me from now on,” I warned, changing the pace to make it harder, almost bruising even. I wanted her to be on the edge between pain and bliss, and I wanted her to forever remember who it was that brought her there.

“You think I don’t hear your moans when you lay on this bed at night and touch yourself?” Her gasp denounced her surprise, and she hid her face in the crook of my neck, holding me tighter.

“You think I don’t close my eyes and imagine it’s me making you moan, giving you pleasure?” That got her to stop hiding, gaze raising to meet mine, and I smiled, brushing the hair off her face as I took it between my hands.

“We won’t have to do that anymore, darling.” Kissing her deeply, I swallowed all of her moans before they could escape her, loving to be this connected to the woman who had stolen my heart.

“You know why?” I pulled away to catch my breath, watching her glossy eyes as she shook her head, unable to speak. “Because you’re mine now, all mine.”

Voicing my deepest desire rekindled my need, making me fuck her harder, spearing her over and over against the bed. I wanted to see the marks of our lovemaking later, the imprints of my nails, the bites all over her skin.

The thought of admiring them in the morning only spurred me on.

“Tell me you need me,” I incited, forehead glued to hers, desperate to hear the words from her own lips. “Tell me you’ll never disobey me again, never put yourself at risk dumbly.”

My voice was thick as I spoke, betraying the emotion I didn’t care to hide anymore. She smiled, hugging me to her and whispered, “worth it,” and how could I be mad?

“Again,” she ordered, and with another powerful thrust, I brought us to a release that was both blinding and revealing of some sentiments I’d struggled way too hard to keep in.

Heavy kissing followed said release. I didn’t want to catch my breath, I wanted to drown in her and this moment, forget about everything else for a while.

“I want you to be the mother of my children.” There it was, the words unspoken I couldn’t take back anymore. And instead of letting the moment fill with regret, I just got out of the bed and went to grab her a glass of water, hoping she’d forget all about it the moment I was back.

“Let’s do it.”

#my fics #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner smut #smut #aaron hotchner reader #aaron hotchner reader insert #aaron hotchner reader inserts #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner fics

[comicglitterr0909]

Playing with Shadows (part 2)

William Afton x Fem!Reader Finally I finished part two of playing with shadows, if you haven't read part one then a short lil summary of part one is reader is an fbi agent who is tasked with making William Afton fall for them, and we get to know William and his kids and it ends off with William inviting us over for dinner. Honestly just read part one its easier.

But for those who did!! Heres part two!! Its the last part! Hope you guys enjoy! (2.7k+ words) Warnings: Cussing, a guy being a pervert but nothing happens he just says something creepy.

8:00 am. My alarm goes off and I quickly shut it off, getting up and getting ready a bit faster than normal. Today was the big day after all, I get to have dinner with the Afton family, while also trying to find solid evidence that William Afton is a child murderer. I quickly put on the uniform I have to wear, clipping my nametag on and taking one last look at myself in the mirror. I sigh, fuck, Im an fbi agent, im not supposed to get attached to people, let alone people im investigating. But of course I get attached to a serial killer's family. Well…I guess I don't know for sure if he's a serial killer, there's hope, if he isn't, if the family has just gotten really unlucky then maybe it would be okay? Maybe I could be a part of their family. But, then again, I would have to quit my job as an FBI agent. He definitely wouldn't like me anymore if I told him the only reason I was actually there is because I thought he killed a bunch of kids. Whatever, I need to stop thinking about that, I have a job to do. I grab my car keys and head to Freddys, parking in the parking lot and walking inside. 

I notice the afton kids are already at Freddys, they must’ve spent the night at Williams instead of their moms. Their faces all light up when they see me, Elizabeth runs over and gives me a big hug. “Y/N I missed you! Are you excited to have dinner with us tonight?” She says excitedly, jumping up and down. Evan and Micheal walk over. “Yeah, I’m really excited! What are you guys making for dinner?” I ask them with a grin. Evan giggles. “Daddy told us we had to figure out your favorite food without it being too obvious because he really wants to impress you!” Evan exclaims. A faint blush appears on my cheeks, he wanted to impress me? That's honestly really cute. “Evan you dumb shit, you weren't supposed to tell her that!” Micheal says as he smacks the back of Evans head, Evan starts to cry and runs off. “Oh c'mon now Micheal, go apologize to your brother, he didn’t know any better.” I say crossing my arms, damn I really feel like a Mom right now. “Fineee.” Micheal stubbornly says before running off to find where Evan went while Elizabeth stays by my side as I walk into the kitchen. 

“So y/n what is your favorite meal??” Elizabeth says as she climbs on top of the kitchen counter as I’m putting my waitress apron on. I don’t know why the waitresses have to wear an apron, I don't even cook things, oh well. “Oh uh, I’d probably say like (your fav food)” Elizabeth's eyes light up, she smiles and climbs off the counter. “Okay!!! I’ll go tell Daddy!!” She sprints out of the kitchen to go tell William about my favorite food. God these kids are so sweet, how am I going to abandon them if I have to?? “Are you having dinner with the Aftons?” I turned around and saw Aaron had asked me that. “Oh uh yeah.” “Damn, you must be special, Mr Afton usually is super mean to us, you're like the first one i’ve seen em be nice to.” Well that's pretty interesting, I mean I knew he was extra nice to me but he never seemed like the mean boss type. More like the creepy boss type, but Aaron has worked here for awhile so he wouldn’t lie. That is unless of course, he does lie. I stand there awkwardly nodding before looking away from Aaron. Y’know I think I preferred him when he was high, cause I can tell he’s not right now and he’s giving me pervert vibes. “Yeah… it must be because you're really hot. I mean, if I was the boss I’d have you be my personal assistant so I could stare at your ass all day.” Yup, definitely prefer high Aaron. He moves closer to me, but before he can reach me, William comes up behind him and grabs him by the back of his shirt, lifting him up. Don’t get me wrong, Aaron is like 5’5, super skinny weirdo but William made it look easy to lift him up. “Firstly, Aaron, you're fired, secondly, if I ever see you around y/n and you say that shit to her again, I will beat the everloving shit out of you. Get out of my restaurant.” And with that, William lets Aaron go, and he scrambles out grabbing his stuff and leaving faster than ever. Immediately after he’s out of sight William puts that familiar smile back on his face, walking closer to me and putting his hand on my shoulder. “Are you okay? I had no idea he was such a perv I wouldn’t have hired him.” Fuck, this whole case is turning into a “try not to catch feelings for William Afton/a potential child murderer challenge”. “Yeah, um I’m alright. Thank you.” I say, smiling at him. After I reassure him he lets go of my shoulder. “No problem.” He looks around the kitchen for a moment. “Where is Bethenny, or whatever the hell her name is.” I follow him as he walks to the front door of Freddys, looking out the window for Bitchennys car. It's not there. “Well thats fucking great, I have one employee.” He walks back into the main area with me. “Huh…” He murmurs, I look up at him. “What?” I say as I see Micheal and Evan starting to walk over. “Even though I’m closing Freddy's early today for our dinner, I still have to open it for at least 6 hours. I only have you and me as actual employees and that sure as hell won't work.” Get to the point, Afton, jesus. “Okay?” “Well, why don’t I, just for today, let my kids help run the place? It can’t go that bad can it?” 

Oh it definitely can go that bad. We decided to go through with it, letting a 8, 9 and 16 year old help run a restaurant is a wonderful plan. 

“EVAN NO DON’T EAT THE PIZZA WE HAVE TO BRING THAT TO THE TABLE” Evan is crying because I wouldn’t let him eat the pizza. Micheal is making pizza’s but fucking them up horribly because he’s laughing so hard, Elizabeth is surprisingly the only helpful one right now and is bringing the pizzas to the customers. William is managing the orders and giving us the orders, and I’m micromanaging all the kids and making pizzas at the same time. I guess I did need the apron today. It's a Thursday and Freddy's is unnecessarily packed, the music and the kids yelling and laughing is really not helping with the stress of this all. I quickly shove a pizza in the oven, checking my watch that reads,“5:30pm”. Oh thank god. “30 MINUTES LEFT GUYS WE GOT THIS!” I shout at Micheal, as he nods at me. Evan comes up behind me and steals my phone out of my back pocket. “NO EVAN GIVE IT BACK DAMMIT” Micheal starts laughing again as I chase Evan throughout the entire pizzeria, that is until William grabs Evan and takes my phone from him while laughing. “Hah, here ya go, we got what, 20ish minutes left, I’ll start sending people out.” I let out a relieved sigh, smiling at him before going into the kitchen again. “Alright Michael let's start cleaning this place up.” Micheal, Elizabeth and I all clean the kitchen up, (Extra well since we made more of a mess). William and Evan get everyone out, and just on time, Freddy’s closes. 

“Well done team!” William says, high fiving us all with a cheeky grin. We all cheer and laugh a bit. “Okay, y/n, I’ll give you my address or you can just follow my car with yours, either or?” “Oh I’ll just follow you haha” I already knew his address. So it's easier to just follow. “Sounds good, I’ll see ya in a bit, doll!” He says before getting into his car and starting it. Doll? A pet name? I can’t say I don't like it but c'mon, he’s making it harder to not fall for him. I get in my car and start following him, it takes about 15 minutes before we get to his house. It's a damn nice house too. I park next to his car in the driveway, hoping he wouldn’t mind but then again it's not like his wife parks there. 

“Welcome to my humble abode!” He greets me, opening the door for me as his kids run inside. The inside is just as nice as the outside, they definitely deep cleaned it before I came here but still, it's impressive. William leads me inside, into the kitchen, but before he can say anything Evan walks over and grabs my hand. “Y/n! y/n! I wanna show you my room, come on!!” He says jumping up and down and pulling on my hand. William chuckles. “I’ll start making dinner, the guest has to entertain the kids. I laugh and wave him off before following Evan into his room.

I sit in Evans room talking with him for 20 minutes or so, he is mostly just showing me all his toys and his plushies. To Evans dismay Elizabeth comes in and steals me for her own room tour, her’s is a bit longer since she forces me to play barbie with her.

Micheal comes into her room, but his eyes widen with regret as he sees us playing Barbie. “MICHEAL PLAY BARBIE NOW!” Before Micheal can even react Elizabeth is shoving him into her room and on the floor, and handing him two barbies to act as. Micheal definitely isn't as good at acting as the barbies as I am, then again he’s a guy. “Micheal, you aren’t doing it right, you have a girl Barbie right?” He rolls his eyes. “Yes…” “Then use a girl's voice.” He turns a dark shade of red, clearly embarrassed to have to act like a girl, I’m trying my hardest not to laugh at him. “Fine.” He picks up his barbie and moves it towards the barbie I'm holding. “Hey girl how ya doin?!” He says in a high pitched really girly voice, and, perfect timing, just before he said that William walked in and heard it all. Me and William break and just die of laughter, Micheal is still dark red, the poor kid is just insanely embarrassed, Elizabeth just had her evil smirk on.

After we get done making fun of Micheal, we go downstairs to eat since Wiliam finished cooking. I wasn’t sure if I was supposed to act surprised that he made (your fav food). But I choose not to. “Dang this is really good William, I didn’t know you could make anything except for pizza!” I joke with him, he laughs and thanks me.

We all finish eating, and Micheal forces me to play some shooting video game with him, naturally I’m terrible at it, even with having legitimate gun experience, Evan says goodnight to me and runs up stairs to go to bed. We keep playing the game for a while, William letting Elizabeth watch for some reason but whatever. I can tell William isn’t watching the screen, I can feel him staring at me, I try to ignore it the best I can. “Daddy can you come tuck me in, I think I’m going to bed.” Elizabeth promptly says, standing up and beginning to walk upstairs before pausing and turning around. “You too y/n.” She doesn’ even let me argue, she just walks upstairs like the girlboss she is. William chuckles, and walks upstairs with me. We get in Elizabeth's room and William tells her some made up story that puts her right to sleep, I shut off her light and before we can walk downstairs Micheal comes up. “Oh, thanks for hanging y/n, I'm gonna hit the hay.” I smile and give him a side hug, that is surprisingly not awkward. “Alright goodnight Michael.”

And finally, it's just William and I, downstairs, by ourselves. We walked to the front door, he was walking me out but before I left. “Y/n, I need to talk to you about something.” Oh god, is this it? “Yeah? What's up William?” 

“Look, you're my best worker, and currently my only.” He says with a small laugh. 

“And right now you're also, I'd say a good friend. But look. I like you y/n, i’m not going to hide from that, I want us to be more than friends, and to be dead honest with you it's not just like its love. I love you, I want to be with you.” 

Oh shit he said it, what do I do? Fuck wait I have to stick with the plan, no matter my own feelings, I have to… 

“I…I like you to William. But…you have to be honest with me right now, because I know about something you’ve done.” 

After I say that his whole demeanor changes, he looks more scared, wait no, not scared, just protective and maybe a bit worried. 

“What do you know?” 

“What you did to those kids William… I know about it… but… I don’t care, I need you to know that before you try to hurt me too. I don’t care because I love you too.” 

He stands there trying to read me, he looks baffled that I know about it. Which gives me the one answer I really hoped wasn’t the right one. He definitely is a murder.

“I killed multiple kids and you don't care?” And with that, I knew the police would be on their way right now, with the mic I have on my shirt they definitely picked that up. 

“I love you too much to care about that William.” God dammit. I want to forget that I'm an FBI agent, forget that the mic on my body recorded that, forget that police are definitely going to barge in any second now, I want to forget about all that because a part of me actually loves this serial killer, and that's what I hate so much about this. 

“Good.” He says, before he leans in, kissing me passionately. TO be honest it took me a little off guard but hey, I got one chance to kiss this tall hot guy. I'm going to take it, and just as I was giving in more. 

“FBI WILLIAM AFTON YOUR UNDER ARREST FOR THE MURDER OF MULTIPLE CHILDREN PUT YOUR HANDS IN THE AIR!” I see my co-workers storm in, grabbing William and handcuffing him, they start asking me if I’m okay and a couple other questions. They take William outside and I follow behind them. William looks utterly confused until I make eye contact with him, that's when it clicks for him. That I set him up, that I lied to him, and that I;ve been an FBI agent this whole time. 

“Y/n, you lying sack of shit!” He yells at me, pissed off as they struggle to shove him in the back of the police car. His window rolls down quickly, they aren't driving away. I feel like I have to talk to him, I owe him maybe just that, even though he's a murderer. And for killing those kids, I don’t feel bad anymore, I guess I lost sight… I forgot all the kids and families he’s hurt. I walked closer to the cop car so we could talk. 

“William, it's for your own good.” He laughs, he’s obviously still mad but he's grinning, the same evil grin that he never hides. “I could have gotten away with it. I would have gotten away with it, if it weren’t for you, y/n.” He angrily says to me. “Right. But you didn’t get away with it, and this is just karma, William.” William keeps glaring at me, still smiling though. The officer gets into the driver's seat of the car, putting it in drive, starting to slowly drive off. 

“I always come back y/n!” He shouts as I walk with the car, matching its slow pace.

“No William, not this time. Not anymore.”

HOPE YOU ENJOYED GUYS SORRY THAT IT TOOK SO LONG IM REALLY BUSY WITH UNIVERSITY <33

#fnaf #purple guy #william afton #springtrap #steve raglan #steve raglan x reader #steve raglan x you #william afton angst #william afton x reader #william afton x you #spring bonnie #yellow rabbit

[nerdieforpedro]

You should have called

Frankie “Catfish” Morales x plus size female reader

Fanfiction 18+

Masterlist / Frankie “Catfish” Morales Masterlist

Summary: You’re late coming home and Frankie is not amused. You try and soothe his frustration but your efforts are in vain or are they rewarded? That’s up to you.

Warnings: Established relationship, Frankie being mean (but only so much), improper belt use or maybe proper, creepy guy, stalking, possessive Frankie, my bad Spanish (I am practicing but my brain is mush), fingering, cockwarming, unprotected P in V (wrap it up people), smut!!!

“Look my phone ran out of charge, I’m sorry. You know I would have called.” You stood in the doorway as your husband stared at you, his face dark. He blocked your way into your home. Arms slack at your side, one hand holding your purse and the other holding your lunchbox.

You had forgot to plug it up after you called to check in with Frankie at lunch, you had meetings and Tim had kept you busy going over all the files. He preferred to double check your work in your office, in person. He usually used the excuse that because his office was being renovated, you had to go through things in yours. The door always remained open, especially after Frankie had brought you lunch one day and saw that man in your office as you were trying to get your pen that fell under the desk. Sure, you had five more in your drawer, but they weren’t a pen from Frankie’s auto body shop he ran with Santi and Will. You were bent on your hands and knees, and you had told Tim to go ahead and organize those files on the desk, he was moving around papers but staring at your large hips and ass. Frankie did not take kindly to this.

“Hey Cariño, I brought my special girl some lunch.” He said it sweetly, but the look on his face was anything but. Tim cleared his throat as your head popped up from behind the desk happy as a clam.

“Ah papi! Gracias! Set it on my desk. Tim, take the files to the conference room.” You waved him away as the nervous man scooped everything up and sprinted out of the room. Frankie sighed as you showed him your pen and stood up, then sat in your chair, giving your knees a rest. Your husband sat across from you and started taking the food out.

“You need to get rid of that man. He was starting at your ass.”

“I don’t hire or fire anyone honey.”

“Then he’s gotta go to another department. I don’t trust that man.” Frankie opened his pesto pasta. It was alright but you loved it. “Do you like him looking at your ass bebita? My ass?” He leaned forward, tilting his head to the side. You chuckled, it always surprised you how jealous he would get when any man looked at you, be it like Tim did or just in passing. The pilot showered you with compliments and love from day one, making you feel like you were on a pedestal even though most of your life you felt as though you were that sticky stuff on the bottom of a barrel.

“No other man will have this ass but you Francisco. Please eat lunch with me.” You cooed at him. He couldn’t never say no to you. You lunch continued with little quips at each other, and you walked Frankie out and kissed him goodbye. When you returned to your office, you saw Tim standing in your office without the files, sniffing the air. Questioning what he was doing, he said he was trying to figure out what the two of you ate for lunch. He may want to take his girlfriend that no one has ever seen there. It was later in the week when you found him again in your office sniffing your chair that you reported him. Looks were one thing, but this was way too far. You had been in meetings with your boss and HR about Tim’s actions and him moving to another department. There were witnesses that saw him enter your office other times that you weren’t there as well. It took way too long, and the office took you out to celebrate after for drinks, but you knew you had dinner plans. You were going to call on your way home and say you were running a few minutes late, but your phone was dead. Plugging it into the car charger showed you the missed calls and text from your husband after ten minutes and at a stoplight. By then you were five minutes away from home, should be fine right?

Frankie stepped out of the doorway and walked in the house, he was wearing his sweats and black t-shirt that fit slightly tight around his biceps and tummy which you loved.

“Frankie, Frankie, please listen lo siento mi amor.” You set your purse and lunch box on the kitchen island and kicked off your heels, your hands fanned over the pilot’s shoulder blades, they were slumped. You hated that you missed his calls, he had been worried when he couldn’t get in touch with you. It wasn’t like you not to call him, it likely was an honest mistake… “Things with Tim were…”

She just said that fucker’s name. That fucker who looks at her too long. Knows that she’s married as she wears her wedding ring, has pictures of you and her on her desk and sees that you bring her lunch. It started just to visit her, but the first time Frankie saw that man gazing at her, he made sure to buy he lunch at least once a week. Her husband whipped around and grabbed her by her arms. “Cariño, you really came home fucking late, and have the nerve to mention that pendejo’s name!?” He leaned in and kissed your roughly, he didn’t mean to, but he had told you before to not mention that man’s name unless it was about him being fired, quitting, or being transferred. Frankie turned you away from the kitchen island and turned you toward the couch, pushing you as his lips devoured yours. Your hands went straight to his hair, but he reached up and grabbed them, putting them at your sides. “No, not for you. Not tonight. Give me your belt bebita.” He commanded, taking a step back, his sweatpants betrayed his need for you, following what he said you removed it from your skirt and handed it to him. Thanks to Frankie’s confidence in your body, your self-esteem inflated to where you felt comfortable tucking your button-down shirts into your skirts with a belt to hold it up over your soft belly.

Licking his lips, your husband snatched the belt from you and rolled the buckle and a fourth of the belt, he lifted it and brought it down swiftly, cracking it in the air. You flinched and hopped on the back of the couch. You hadn’t seen this side of Frankie before. It scared you, but from the kiss and the way his veins were flexed against his muscles in his arm, you felt your nipples harden and your pelvis quiver. “Qué, mi amor?” you questioned as he approached you and pulled your hands behind you head and tied them behind with your belt. You squealed as he then lifted your legs and tipped your ass up on the back of the couch while your head and torso fell onto the cushions of the couch. “What the hell are you doing!?” Frankie grinned at watching your short thick legs wiggle, he grabbed your right leg and kissed your calf, biting it, moans started to escape your lips. Pushing your skirt up and sliding off your underwear, he admired your soaked pussy as you growled at the cool air touching your hot core. “Frankie, please, at least let me lay on the couch, please…”

“No Cariño. You get to be as uncomfortable as I was not knowing where you were and if you were safe or not.” He sneered, a hand swatted her wetness, the sound echoing throughout the living room. A cry left your lips and you continued to wiggle, you may be able to get a bit lower and relieve the pressure off your back, Frankie kept a tight hold on your calf as a finger traced each lip of your pussy. “Now, now, the more you struggle, the longer I’ll hold you like this bebita. Are you wet for me or that fucker who keeps starting at your ass? I bet he dreams about your cunt too. It’s mine.” A finger slid inside of you briefly before popping back out. You whimpered, wanting more of his thick fingers.

“That’s what I was going to tell you baby… He’s, ah! Fuck!” Your husband pulled your legs forward to slide your hips back up. He saw that you had been trying to slide down, Frankie then slapped your thigh and leaned over to nuzzle your belly.

“Amor, you’re mine. I told you the only reason you mention that fucker to me is if he’s gone.” He used his nose lift your skirt and roll it up just under your breasts, his aching member grinded against wet cunt, wetting his sweatpants.

“Franciso, he’s been transferred! Transferred…! Shit. Untie me and fuck me on the couch. My back Frankie.” You yelled as Frankie’s eyebrows shot up., his grip loosened and you were able to shimmy down onto the couch and flow on your side, panting and thankful that the pressure was off your back.

“Damn bebita, you should have told me sooner.” Frankie rounded the couch and kneeled beside you, he kissed your forehead, cupping your cheek. “You should have told me sooner carino. Todavía tienes que compensarme por preocuparme. Mi encantadora esposa.” Your husband stood and turned you on your stomach, swatting your ass before making sharp contact with it. He pulled you to your knees by your hips and reached over you, grazing your dripping pussy with his throbbing dick. You let out a moan at the friction and felt Frankie undo the belt around your wrists. The reprieve was momentary as Morales pulled your arms to your back and tied your wrists again, leaving a space for him to slip his hand in to grip.

“Frankie! Por favor, isn’t it enough?!” You yelled, looking back at him, the grin on his face made your shiver. His free hand inserted three fingers into your quivering hold and pumped them slowly, your hips buckled, trying to match his pace.

“Bebita, I don’t think it’s enough for you. Not the way your hips are moving or your cunt’s sucking on my fingers. Fuck look at you…this is my dripping pussy.” Frankie growled, moving his fingers faster, he dropped the belt to slap your ass, watching jiggle made his leak more precum onto his soaked sweats. Your tongue was sticking out, screeching Frankie’s name. Your core was tightening, you were so close to climax, but his thick fingers left your pussy, leaving your hips wiggling against the empty air.

“Oh fuck, Frankie please…” Your voice was weak and your head hung, shoulders burning from the prolonged stretch behind your back. Your hips were still wiggling, looking for any stimulation that your husband was willing to give you. The mess he made of you, bringing you to the brink and denying you, he normally overstimulated you through your orgasms, not hold them back. “Use you tongue, your fat cock, just pick one. Your wife’s sloppy pussy needs you. Mi esposo, por favor…” The words made Frankie smack his lips, normally he was the one begging you to slow down as you rode him, feeling like he needed to last as long as possible despite how much your core tried to hold him, your body melded into him with your curves, stomach, and soft arms. His hands roamed your back, letting go of the belt once more, digging his fingers into your flesh, leaving red marks, his marks on your soft body. He finally decided to remove the belt and tossed it onto the floor. Turning you on your side and holding one leg up, he licked your calf and bit it, then put your knee over his shoulder as he lined himself up with your entrance, just putting the tip in. “Mmm…yes, more. More Frankie. Fuck your wife’s needy cunt…” You placed your hand on his forearm, your shoulders curled forward, scrunching your body and making your rolls more evident and compact. Frankie leaned forward, pushing himself halfway into you as he took your breast in his hand.

“Shit baby, you’re mine bebita. All mine, this tight cunt is mine.” He started to move slowly, rocking into and pulling all the way out before slowly pushing himself back in. “So damn tight, you don’t wanna let of me go do you?” Whimpering was all you were capable of as he started to speed up and lowered his hand to your side to hold your lovehandle, one of his favorite places to grip you as he worked himself deeper, pushing your leg back to force your hips up and allowing him to pierce your cervix. “Cariño, milk my cock. Take my cum with your snug cunt.” Your core kept vibrating, then began to quake as you started dripping faster, then with your climax you gushed, spilling onto the couch, your thighs Frankie’s thighs, and his sweatpants. Your back arched as Frankie kept thrusting into you as you squeezed him, within a few more pumps her spilled into you, the warmth, making your twist your hips to help it spread. Frankie’s forehead hit your chest, he rubbed your side where he was holding, kneading your tissue. “Don’t make we worry like that again amor. I was worried sick.”

Your laugh was breathy, an arm wrapped around his back, and you kissed the top of his head. “I think I should make you worry more Francisco. That was amazing.” His mouth twisted to the side and to used his lips to surround one of your nipples and bit it, “Shit Frankie! Don’t bite that hard.”

“Cariño, you don’t have to make me worried to get fucked like this when you want to. All you had to is ask bebita.” His sweet grin returned as he remained inside you flacid. “In fact, you need to make sure you call if you wanna get this kind of treatment again. Don’t forget, I love you.”

Tag list (forgot to put this in the first time 😭):

@fhatbhabie @morallyinept @pedritapascal @pascalsanctuary @nissaimmortal @grogusmum @theywhowriteandknowthings @beefrobeefcal @goodwithcheese @iamasaddie @psychedelic-ink @modernperplexity @pamasaur @pedrodascal @marcus-is-my-muse @clawdee @mintypossum @trulybetty @perotovar @joelslegalwhre @josephquinnswhore @mandoisapunk @awilderi @deviinci @secretelephanttattoo @for-a-longlongtime @tessa-quayle @legendary-pink-dot @sin-djarin @maggiemayhemnj @rhoorl @magpiepillsjunior @intoanotherworld23 @beabliss @alwaysmicado @daddy-dins-girl

#pedro pascal characters #fanfiction #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal #frankie morales #frankie catfish morales #Frankie morales x plus size female reader #smut #frankie morales smut #frankie friday #writing

[shesjustanothergeek]

His Love

|Aegon II Targaryen x Fem!Reader|

Part Ten

Master List of Series

Summary: Being a bastard born in the slums of Flea Bottom was all you were known for. Not the streak of white you had in your dark hair, the violet ring around your pupils, or how your sharp tongue and skills with the blade resembled your father, Daemon Targaryen. You were just a bastard, nothing more, but to him, to Aegon Targaryen, you were everything. You were his love.

Author's Note: You would laugh when I tell y'all the hours I spent trying to study High Valyrian and make sure I used proper grammar. Because, like... who does that?? I still don't think I used correct grammar and sentence structure, but who's going to know? This chapter takes place over a few years. I wanted to clarify that ahead of time in case of any questions. I also wanted to say that the woman depicted in the cover art is not necessarily what I imagine the main character to look like. She has black hair like her mother, and she's not conventionally skinny. She has a semi-muscular but broad body due to her training, and her eyes are as described. Other than that, the MC can be whatever you picture. xD ANYWAYS... Thank you so much for your continued support as we embark on this journey together. It means so much to me.

Chapter Warnings: Gaslight, gatekeep, girl boss, time jumps, italics equal High Valyrian when speaking.

"I survive off the idea that one day my rage will be witnessed by the men who poisoned me with it in the first place." - Maya G. Wolf, Being A Woman.

Prince Daemon was excited when you arrived at Dragonstone. He dreamed of having a son of his own. One to train and spar with. Though he loved Baela and Rhaena, they were not encouraged to take up the sword, nor did they want to. Rhaenyra's sons, Jacaerys and Lucerys, were trained in swordsmanship but were less committed than Daemon would have preferred. They had much heavier things to worry about, like ruling entire kingdoms.

You were the only child in Dragonstone with no future prospects. You had no claims to land. None would be passed down to you as everything was already set to your father's true-born daughters. It did not matter if you were the eldest and held the most seniority. You were a bastard, and bastards were nothing but a stain on noble houses. You were lucky even to be allowed into the same wing as your father's family.

Even though you were a smudge on the Targaryen name, the Targaryens treated you as anything but and welcomed you with open arms and hearts. You were hesitant, at first, to accept their love, only clinging to a man you shared a slither of a connection with.

It became Daemon's project to integrate you into the family. It was what gave him joy in the never-ending days tucked away at Dragonstone. Furious at the world and everything around her, he transformed an angry girl into a warrior.

He saw you reborn through his gruesome training, sand melted and forged into glass. The lessons he taught began to shine through as time progressed. You eventually viewed those curly-mop-headed boys as your brothers and Rhaenyra, your mother. The family became the most important thing to you, your love for each stored close within your heart. You all were that each other had.

You had heard the rumors that plagued Rhaenyra and her children concerning their lineage. It was surprising how much people would let slip around the "bastard of Daemon Targaryen." You could not help but feel a sense of empathy for them. You needed to protect one another from the world, from the cruel whispers that trailed not too far behind each of you.

But if one of your brothers decided to pull your hair one more time when you weren't paying attention... the Stranger would have two more souls to guide.

***

You and Daemon had developed a routine here on the sandy beaches of Dragonstone.

You would run in the morning when the sun had not risen yet, and the wind still held the same damp, nightly chill in the air. He would send you around the inner grounds of the castle, then up and down the many rocky and steep hills leading to Dragonmont, and finally, around the beaches, where he would begin your proper training.

"A warmup," he would call it as you vomited on the shore, panting like a dog the first dozen times you did it.

He pushed you, sometimes too far, you thought, when you screamed, exhausted with tears in your eyes. Daemon would always say the same thing every time you nearly gave up.

"When you are at your lowest, stand back up, and spit in the face of your enemy. They will not take pity when they see your weakness. They will kill you. Do not let them get the chance." You could not argue with his logic, your pride beginning to mirror his over time. Weakness was never an option for a bastard in the House of the Dragon.

Within years, your limbs were not the soft linear sticking of bone they once were but toned, strong, and sturdy from the many bags of grain you carried. Your body no longer reflected the malnourished peasant girl but a warrior, the likes of which no one had seen since Queen Visenya.

***

"Tell me again, Maester Gerardys, of the dragons here on this island," you asked sweetly, resting your jaw on your palm.

You wanted to hear about something other than the hierarchy and the politics of the North, your mind entirely elsewhere. You knew that if you batted your lashes enough, the Maester would forget about today's lesson.

"Well, Princess, we have had many over the years, but currently, there are your family's dragons. Caraxes, ridden by your father. Syrax by your mother. Vermax by your younger brother Prince Jacaerys, and Arrax by the second youngest, Prince Lucerys." You nodded along, seeming to care about the claimed dragons honestly.

"I heard rumors from the servants of several unclaimed dragons. Ones that steal the common folk's livestock and another that is so silver that it blends into the sea mist. What of those?" You pouted your lips slightly when you talked, leaning forward in your palm.

"Ah, yes. There are wild dragons that reside on the island. Some are in the cliffs overlooking the port, Dragonmont, or in other hidden caves where we cannot find them." You smirked slightly, appearing to have no ulterior motives in the conversation. "There are three riderless dragons. Seasmoke, which belonged to the late Lord Laenor Velaryon, Silverwing, who belonged to Queen Alysanne, Vermithor, who belonged to Jaehaerys Targaryen, your second Great Grandsire. Vermithor resides inside the Dragonmont and has a large body of bronze. They called him the Bronze Fury, and oh, was he a sight to see in the skies! The way the sun would shine on his scales was magnificent!"

Maester Gerardys shook his head, smiling to himself and getting rid of the memory of the beautiful beast. "There are three wild dragons which have been attempted to be claimed, but none have ever succeeded. They are nasty, those three. And should you ever come across them, run in the other direction."

He began to turn back around, beginning to continue the lesson from before. You couldn't let him finish; you still had many more questions.

"What do those wild dragons look like," you quickly asked, almost showing a worrying amount of enthusiasm.

The Maester swallowed, returning to you as you display your best puppy dog eyes. You knew they were his greatest weakness—the brown orbs reflected in the candlelight, the small ring of violet shining around your pupil.

"Gods, be good," he whispered, clasping his hands behind his back.

"The first is Grey Ghost, the one you heard the servants talking about. He has a pale coloring to his scale and almost becomes invisible when he flies within the sea mist. He does not bother the smallfolk much, leaving for long periods. The second is Sheepstealer. He is a real nuisance to the smallfolk, always snatching any mutton he can wrap his teeth around from here to Driftmark and Wendwater. " You nodded along, urging him to keep talking until you had every drop of knowledge one could obtain.

"The worst one, Princess, is Cannibal. He is said to be as black as coal and has green eyes that would scare the most battle-hardened of men. He is the largest of all three wild dragons and by far the most dangerous, feasting on his fellow species. His den is said to be covered in the bones of those who have attempted to claim him."

Maester Garardys was worried he might have scared the poor Princess with the discussion of the fearsome dragons, but when he looked at your face, your features showed no fear. You had a slight grin gracing your flushed skin, your eyes bright, and your mind hanging onto every word he said.

"Where does Cannibal reside, Maester?" You questioned eagerly, forgetting yourself.

He squinted his eyes momentarily, unsure if he should give you the answer considering your demeanor. "He resides in the back of the Dragonmont on the eastern side." He began to turn away but stopped, feeling uneasy. "Princess, why do you have a sudden interest in the dragons here on the island? We had a lesson on them barely a fortnight ago, and if you do not mind me saying, you seemed somewhat disinterested in it."

Your smile did not falter momentarily, a lie quickly finding its way onto your tongue.

"I had decided to do some extra reading on my family's history in my spare time and was somewhat confused about which dragon was where, who rode what, and what they looked like. There is so much for me to learn," you fidgeted in your seat, wringing your hands, "and my brothers have such an advantage on me with having you as their teacher for their whole life... I feel very inadequate compared to them."

Maester Garardys gave you a pitying look that made your blood boil as you continued your defeated expression. "Oh, Princess, do not be too hard on yourself," he cooed. "This is not a traditional education that women like yourself get, but your father insisted you be taught the same as your brothers. I will remember for the next lesson to take more time with you."

"Thank you, Maester Garardys," you said, feigning bashfulness as your nails dug into your palms. The urge to jump over the wooden table that separated you and punch that soft-hearted look off his face was strong, but you held fest, continuing the doltish girl act. "If it would not be too much, ser, could you please not tell my father about what we discussed? I do not want him to think I am incapable of doing what he assigned me."

"Of course, Princess," he smiled kindly as if he was talking to some simple-minded fool and not a growing woman with the compacity to understand simple subjects.

Finally, he returned to the original lesson, speaking slower than before and explaining things in more detail than you thought necessary. You swallowed the anger threatening to spill past your lips as you adjust your posture.

You would show him. You would show all who thought the same as him how wrong they were about you. You were not to be spoken down to and underestimated, and you would make sure anyone who did would live to regret it. You were not some peasant girl with a fancy title; you were a Targaryen. You are the firstborn of Daemon Targaryen, the brother of the King, the husband of the heir to the Iron Throne, and they would do well to remember that.

***

You only had a few hours before someone would realize you were gone. You had told Rhaenyra that you were nursing a severe headache after your training with Daemon today and could not participate in your daily embroidery lesson for the afternoon. She, of course, understood, knowing how her uncle could be if left on his own with a sword and a weaker opponent.

There was only a slightly guilty feeling in your chest as you lied to her.

Years of the gruesome time your father had put you through paid off as you snuck past countless guards and servants, using the hidden passages within Dragonstone's walls to escape. There were no maps of the caverns inside Dragonmont, which left you nothing but the information Maester Garardys gave you and your instincts to guide you.

The first half was easy, you told yourself. You only needed to sneak inside Syrax's lair and steal an egg. Daemon had come boasting not too long ago about how the she-dragon had laid a new clutch of eggs, a sign that his "Targaryen seed was strong" and your mother was surely with child again. You felt bad that you could be taking a dragon away from one of your future siblings, but you only needed one, nothing more. Indeed they would survive if you just took one.

Syrax was nowhere to be found as you silently crept into her den, placing the torch you had for light in an empty holder. You sighed in relief as you gazed upon six eggs laid on a pile of sand she had made, a nest to keep them warm. Plenty would be left. You smiled as you stuffed an egg inside your satchel, positioning it with your other supplies.

The low rumble of heavy steps shook the ground, signaling that Syrax was most likely returning from where ever she was, and you needed to get the Seven Hells out of there. You cursed the Gods for this unfortunate timing, snatching your torch and scrambling out of the cave and in the opposite direction of the cold-blooded animal.

You ran further into the darkened caves, the idiotic nature of your plans finally coming to fruition as you realized you were lost. You could feel the panic beginning to rise in your chest, your breathing speeding up. Tears pricked at your eyes, and you stumbled, dropping your only light source and tearing the seam of your dress as you fell onto the rocky ground. You cried out in pain, your body forcing the tears to fall against your will as you wiped at your face.

"You will not be weak," you said, echoing along the warm stone. "You are not weak," you gritted out again, digging your palms into your eye sockets.

You yanked your arms away, readying to push yourself up and continue your quest as you opened your eyes. Standing over you in the dim lighting was a creature as black as night, its scales reflecting off your lost torch as a rush of hot air wafted your cheeks. Cannibal's piercing green eyes stared back at you, his pupils dilating as he scanned your frightened form.

Quickly, you moved to create a safe enough distance between you and the beast, wincing as you noticed the blood dripping down your shin. He tilted his head at you, seeming confused to see such a small and pathetic thing so far back into Dragonmont as he stepped closer. You grabbed the egg faster than Cannibal could move and placed it between you and the dragon, offering peace between two isolated individuals. He proceeded instantly, walking over to your discarded torch and consuming the egg in one bite, bits of shell flinging across the cave floor.

The fallen torch illuminated his body over top of the light. Rows of black horns protruded along his head and neck, teeth the size of your forearm glistening with yolk. His feet had shiny black claws that could slice a man in half. He was not the majestic creature that songs were sung about. He was a monster. A monster you would scare a child with so that they would come home on time.

No one would think you were weak with a dragon such as him by your side. They would all cower away as the Bastard Princess sat atop her Cannibal dragon. It was divine fate that brought you to this moment, face to face with the most dangerous dragon in all the realm. A creature that many men had tried to claim, but all failed, their bones scattered across his den. 

You were no man.

Courage filled your limbs as you stepped closer to him, your chin held high as you took about another item you had brought. You had stolen pork legs on your way to the caverns, the kitchen maids too preoccupied with other tasks to see a cloaked figure hiding amongst the shadows. You took a deep breath, holding the first leg out as Cannibal's nostrils flared at the smell.

"Dohaerās (serve)," you commanded, and the dragon stared, unmoving. "Māzīs naejot (come forward)," you tried, insecurity creeping into your mind when he did not move. "Māzīs," you repeated, with more force, still holding the pig leg before you. "Māzīs naejot issa (come to me)," you barked.

You knew this would take some time, but surely, waiving a piece of raw meat in front of a dragon named Cannibal would yield quicker results. Still, he ignored you, his head lowering to the ground as he sniffed it, beginning to lick it.

"What in the Seven Hells are you doing?" You questioned, exasperated as you stepped closer to him.

At speed too quick for a dragon of his size, his head snapped up, his green eyes becoming black as a low growl came from his chest, looking as if he would charge at any second; you threw the leg and retreated. Once again, he swallowed it in one bite, returning to the same spot on the ground.

You looked closer, forcing your eyes to adjust in the darkness as you realized that was the spot where you fell, seeing the dried blood. Your body was faster than your mind, swiftly finding the dagger Daemon had gifted you for your first name day with him and cutting your hand, smearing your blood on the raw meat. Finally, did you have Cannibal's full attention, his nostrils flaring as he smelled the air.

You steeled yourself again, holding the pork out.

"Māzīs (come)," you demanded proudly. He snarled, the sound booming inside your ears as you repeated yourself.

You could sense his anger at this tiny creature believing she could command him, and when you repeated a third time, his patience wore thin. Cannibal inhaled, his throat grumbling as you saw him lift his head and open his mouth. You were not an idiot. You knew what came next, seeing it countless times with Caraxes, but with nowhere to run, you stared at the bright orange flames.

***

The sound of clinking silverware and laughter echoed in the dining hall of Dragonstone, even with one less member of the family. Jace had butchered a Valerian pronunciation, Rhaenyra attempting to stifle her laughter, and even Damon chuckling in amusement. Everything was going normal, each person blissfully unaware of the Princess deep inside Dragonmont.

"Mother," Luke spoke during a lull in the conversation, "could I bring sister some dinner?" No one had seen you since high noon, not wanting to bother you while being ill.

"I am sure she would love that, sweet boy," she said gently. Rhaenyra smiled, nodding to Luke and motioning him to come in for a quick kiss before going to your chambers. He proceeded on the usual route to your apartments but stopped short as he looked down at the plate the servants had prepared for you. 

Luke knew how much you loved sweets, sneaking him and Jace under the rouse of them wanting something in the kitchens and not you. Both boys would always play along with whatever schemes their rebellious half-sister thought of for the day. Either racing across the halls and seeing who was the fastest, playing with wooden swords inside the castle, or putting pins on her Septa's chair if she was a "particular cunt" that day.

Lucerys went down the small passage leading to the kitchens rounding the corner with your plate of cooling food still in his hands as he surveyed the freshly baked trays of pastries. He could not decide which ones you would like more. Sadly, nothing with apples was made.

"Could I help ya' young prince?" An older woman asked, her gown a drab grey woolen color and a white bonnet on her head.

"Oh yes," the young boy answered, slightly startled by her sudden presence. "My sister is not feeling well this evening, and I wanted to bring her some dessert to help her recover."

The woman hummed, nodding in agreement as she missed tying off her stained apron. "That's a mighty fine idea, my prince. May I help ye' in yer selection?"

"Oh, yes," he repeated, "her favorite is apples, but I cannot seem to find anything with some."

"Ah. Apples are not in season at the moment, so our imports of them have been scarce, but I'll see what I can do for the young Miss. I am sure we'll have some somewhere."

The woman began her search for the fruit wandering off into small rooms and digging through random barrels until she found what she was looking for. "Do you know what the lady prefers?" She questioned as she began to rinse the red fruit.

"I believe she likes something called apple muse. I think that is how she called it," he said, unsure. The woman nodded again and smiled as she gathered some bowls, pitchers, and utensils.

"She's a girl after me own heart," the lady commented, peeling the apples. "We eat this all the time for dessert, and it's very easy. I'll be done faster than a crow's fly."

Luke smiled and sat on a stool to watch the woman work, picturing your joyful face when he brought you the food.

***

Luke finally reached your grand oak doors, knocking with his free hand. You were not feeling good, so he knocked again and opened the door, calling out your name. You did not answer, which he wasn't surprised about. He still had the same grin, excited and happy to do something nice for his sister.

"I have brought you some dinner," he said gleefully. "It is your favorite. I even had one of the servants make you some Apple Muse." Still, you did not answer as Lucerys moved further into your apartments.

Your seamstress hid hints of the Targaryen crest throughout the different items in your entry room. Black and red decorated every fabric with curtains to match. Leather-bound books and armor were thrown haphazardly on velvet chairs and benches. No doubt you had told your maids you would clean it up later.

He figured you would be in your bed chambers, knocking again on a smaller door as he entered. He nearly dropped the plate he had put some much heart into when he saw your empty bed, the sheets undisturbed from when they were made early this morning.

Swiftly, he sat the food onto a nearby stand, ringing the bell for your maids. Within moments three women came up, surprised to see the young Prince Lucerys instead of their Princess. They all bowed, one readying to speak before she was cut off.

"Where is my sister," he asked quickly.

"We are not sure, Your Grace. She has not returned since her bath after training," the one he believed was called Edith said.

"How do you mean? She must be here," he denied, panicked. She told my mother she was retiring in the evening due to a headache."

The three girls looked at each other, each bewildered and confused. "I am sorry, Your Grace, but we have not seen her since then."

Luke nodded curtly, hurrying out of your rooms and back to the dining hall, his red pants swishing with each step. He would catch the rest of his family leaving if he were fast.

He ran past servant after servant, dodging some carrying stacks of linen, some with brooms and dusters, and others he bumped into without apologizing. Luke felt betrayal in his chest, his heart cracking into pieces as his eyes began to water. His young mind went to the worst possibilities, remembering how you told him of the terrible punishment to your former Aunt and handmaid for trying to abduct you. Perhaps someone else from your old life attempted it again? That would be the only reason you would lie.

How could you leave them? They were your family. They loved you. He loved you.

He sprinted blindly, wiping at his eyes as he ran into a warm body, instantly recognizing the floral smell.

"My sweet boy, what is the matter?" Rhaenyra asked kindly, stroking her second son's curly hair.

"It's Sissy," he cried, reverting to the old name he called you before Jace teased him. "She is not in her rooms, and-and none of her maids have seen her!"

"Calm, Lucerys. Take a deep breath and tell me again," Rhaenyra said calmly, with a nurturing, motherly tone.

"I went to give Sissy her food, but she is not in her rooms, and her servants said they have not seen her! I think they took her! Like before," Luke cried into his mother's thick skirts.

"Why do you think she was taken, Lucerys? Perhaps she is just along the beaches resting as she as done before?" Luke couldn't argue with her reasoning, but he still could not help but feel a sense of worry. She gave him a wry smile, looking over to her husband, who had a concentrated look on his face, his eyebrows creased.

Before Daemon or Rhaenyra could think of their next move, a Kingsguard ran toward them, their polished armor clanking.

"Princess," he nodded to Rhaenyra, still out of breath. "Prince Daemon. We believe in having spotted the young Princess on the eastern cliffs of Dragonmont," the knight known as Ser Steffon paused, glancing at the floor momentarily before looking back at Daemon, "naked and riding a dragon."

Rhaenyra's eyes widened in shock, covering her mouth as she went to grab her husband's hand. He took it without hesitance, squeezing it reassuringly as he pulled her closer. Jace and Luke both made disgusted faces at the mention of their sister without clothes, their true maturity showing no matter how righteous they tried to act.

"I will mount Caraxes," Daemon declared, his voice becoming what he used in war. "Gather serval knights, Ser Steffon, and alert the Dragonkeepers."

"I will go with you, father," Jacaerys interjected, puffing his chest out proudly.

"No," he said with finality, "Vermax is still not fully grown, and you do not have proper control over him yet. It would be too dangerous."

"But-" Jace pleaded before Daemon cut him off with a wave of his hand, rushing to his dragon. Jace stepped back dejectedly, nodding his head as his eyes fell to the floor.

***

The wind tore through your hair, ripping it out of its pinned style. Water leaked from your eyes as Cannibal flew through the skies at lightning speed. You held onto the horns on his back for dear life, your palms sliding as he did a sharp turn. The air was freezing on your bare skin, but the adrenaline pumping through your veins kept you warm.

The black dragon had been soaring wildly through the orange skies, accelerating to altitudes where you thought you might lose consciousness before he suddenly dipped back down. You had forgotten the commands you had memorized in High Valyrian, more focused on not falling to your death and having your family find your crushed, naked dead body.

Your mind was still reeling from the fact that you were alive. Cannibal had bathed you in his dragon fire, burned every inch of clothing on your body, and even melted the dagger your father had gifted you. But you were alive. You were still alive. A dragon had breathed its fire on you, and you lived. You had only heard fables of something like this happening. You did not believe it yourself. Experiencing the contents of myths and legends was not something you thought possible.

Suddenly, Cannibal made a sharp turn causing your body to slip to one side and dangle as he righted himself. He was a wild and untamed beast, possessing the stamina of a Dornish sand steed and taking you to places you did not want him to go. You knew if you did not gain control of him soon, everything would be for naught as he brought you close to the blue waters of the Narrow Sea, his spiked wings cutting through.

"Dohaerās (serve)," you shouted over the wind whistling in your ears, but Cannibal did not listen. "Dohaeragon aōha kipagīros (Serve your rider)!" As if he was trying to defy you, he started to ascend, his body a near verticle line as he flew towards the sky.

You realized you could not direct him from where you were sitting, making the split-second decision to use the horns along his spine as a ladder to reach his head. He began to straighten out, acting as if he was just going to glide across the fluffy yellow-tinted clouds, but then, he suddenly dipped, descending to the water below at blinding speeds. You were sure you felt like an insect crawling on his back, pesky and annoying as it moved just before you could swat it.

You grabbed the horns on his skull, leaning all your weight backward to stop your fast descent. Cannibal released a thundering roar, furious that someone would try to control him as he shifted to his side, his wings pointing above and below. You grabbed the horns on his skull, leaning all your weight backward to stop your fast descent. You captured the horns on his skull, leaning all your weight backward to stop your rapid decline. You held steadfast, shifting your weight in the opposite direction he went. He repeated the same tactic, moving too much into your opposing grip and rocking you back and forth.

"Nyke emagon claimed ao, zaldrīzes. Nyke aōha kipagīros, se ao līs dohaeragon issa lest īlon both morghūljagon! (I have claimed you, dragon. I am your rider, and you must serve me lest we both die!)" You screamed into the air, counteracting his next attempt to shake you off.

A piercing screech cut through the skies, both you and Cannibal turning your heads to where it came from. You had no doubt who it was. Your family had most likely discovered your absence and decided to send your father after you. Fear rushed over you as you saw the Blood Wyrm cut his way through the clouds, its skin a terrifying granite of red and black, your father's lean body sitting atop it.

Cannibal moved to turn and face Caraxes, known to have a deep aversion to other dragons; he no doubt would try to kill him and your father in the process.

"Daor (No)," you bellowed as you countered his attempt, jerking his head in the opposite direction. "Udrāzmī ao rȳbagon naejot issa (You obey my commands)." You leaned down into what you assumed was his ear, "Tegon, sir (Land, now)."

Cannibal slowed. You could sense he was thinking, debating whether or not he would win a fight against a battle-hardened dragon, and if he did win, would he even be worth the kill?

By an act of divine intervention, he moved, descending at slower speeds than he had before, succumbing to the power of a tiny girl. He landed on the southern shores, his breath releasing small puffs of smoke. 

Cannibal lowered his head, which startled you, but you tried not to let him see as you climbed off the dragon. Your hand slid along his neck feeling his blood pulsing in his throat as your eyes locked onto one another. You wanted to thank him for letting you be the one to break him but could not find the proper word. He let out a low sound, not quite a purr, but you knew he could sense how you felt as he turned away, his green eyes blinking slowly.

Your father and his dragon landed on the same beach, far enough away that Cannibal wouldn't feel threatened but still too close for his liking. He didn't recognize Daemon as a threat as he walked towards you carrying something in his arms.

You had prepared yourself for his harsh words before you even set foot inside Dragonmont. Nothing he could say would make you falter. You slinked out from behind Cannibal's large body, your chin held high and your hands clasped behind you proudly.

"You are naked," he said blandly, scanning your body with a judgemental smirk.

You gasped, all your mental preparation from before crumbling as you remembered your current attire, attempting to cover your body. Daemon laughed, throwing the bundle he had in his arms toward you. You raised your eyebrows at the pair of brown trousers with a shirt to match, questioning if that was really what he wanted you to wear.

"Come," he motioned his head, and you followed. "You have claimed a dragon in which there is much to learn. Though I am happy," he spoke leisurely, kicking the sand with his boots, "your mother is not. I suspect you will deal with a great tongue-lashing once we return to the castle."

You sighed through your nose, the sound blending into the folding waves on the shore, pursing your lips as you nodded. "It is easier to seek forgiveness than ask for permission," you quipped, pulling up the pants he had given you.

He laughed softly, smiling as you struggled to keep up with him in clothes two times your size.

In truth, Daemon was still shaken. The moment that Lucerys had come running back from your rooms with tears in his eyes he panicked, his mind going to the worst places imaginable. He did not believe you would go willingly if someone from your past life had managed to sneak their way onto Dragonstone. He knew you had found comfort in your current life. Your indulgences for the finer aspects told him all he needed to know, but he could still sense the reservations whenever Rhaenyra would display an array of gowns when a Lord arrived. Though they may have been small, the habits of your old life were still there. He just didn't know how much was left.

Despite how terrified he was near moments ago, Daemon displayed nothing of the sort. Laughing and teasing his dragon rider daughter as you walked toward the castle. He was giddy that there was another aspect he could add to your daily training and could barely contain his excitement of eventually seeing your frustrated face when things didn't go as you wanted.

It was another challenge he could guide you through as your father, doing what his mother did for him and making up for the years he did not know of your existence. How he wished he could return to the past and change things. So many things...

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I hope y'all enjoyed this chapter! I feel like it was pretty controversial for me to choose the Cannibal as the reader's dragon, but out of all the options that she had, I feel like this resembles her the most. I'm sorry about the no Aegon, but we gotta bring some juice to the story. Some meat and potatoes, if you will.

The main character I created is strong. She's raw, visceral, the feeling of triumph when you cross the finish line and win the race. She's the rage you have bottled up throughout your entire life from everyone telling you to contain your emotions, act a certain way, and accept the wrong you have been a victim of. And Cannibal is the only dragon I feel canonically embodies the same fucking rage and power the reader has.

Well, I may have given you too much info on the reader that you could figure out on your own as you read.

I also wanted to say that, canonically, the Targaryen's are not fire proof. We've seen them get burnt to death by dragon fire and just regular fire. The MC only survived because she inadvertently used blood magic and sacrificed a dragon egg. So, sadly, she is not fire proof. She's just lucky. It would be cool if the Targaryen's were tho!

Tagged Peeps: @zeennnnnnn, @malfoytargaryen, @targaryencore, @justasmallbean, @alexandra-001, @buckysmainhxe-deactivated202303, @omgsuperstarg, @sommornyte, @minttea07, @silverslive, @unclecrunkle, @prettykinkysoul, @duesobabe, @djlexi, @ynbutbetter, @honestlykat, @graykageyama, @legolas017, @iiamthehybrid, @brezzybfan,@dd122004dd, @ladybug0095, @millies0bsimp, @kalfilit, @sheislonelyalways, @tempt-ress, @bellameshipper, @minttea07, @trikigirl271, @esposadomd, @buckylahey, @justarandomflowerchildofthenight, @partypoison00, @please-buckme, @pastelorangeskies, @joliettes, @existential-echo, @iiamthehybrid, @priyajoyy, @valaenatargaryensdragon, @merovingianprincess, @rachelnicolee,@sunny-boy-06 

#hotd #house of the dragon #hotd fanfic #hotd aegon #a song of ice and fire #game of thrones #hotd fic #prince aegon #aegon the second #aegon targaryen ii #aegon ii #aegon targaryen x you #aegon targaryen x reader #aegon ii fanfic #aegon targaryen fanfic #aegon x y/n #aegon ii targaryen #aegon ii targaryen x reader #aegon ii x you #aegon ii x reader #aegon ii fic #aegon targaryen ii x reader #aegon targaryen ii x you #daemon targeryan #aegon the unworthy #aegon targaryen smut #aegon x reader #aegon targaryen #aegon ii smut #aegon ii angst

[weebsinstash]

Ok but like ik you've been talking about werewolves and abo recently but like I need to say this somewhere.

I think yandere and abo is such a underappreciated combo. Especially when most of it that is made(or at least that I've seen) is the classic yandere alpha x omega. Which isnt bad but I feel like there could be so much more.

Where is the yandere omega x alpha who threatens to ruin the alpha's life with false accusations of the alpha forcing themselves on the omega? Or how about yandere omega who doesnt even hide their tendencies because ofc an omega would never behave like that! Then there is the idea that people actively encourage the behavior because(depending on how you write it) omegas are so rare, you dont want them to disappear entirely right?

Tbh my favorite idea is the omega trying to manipulate the alpha with their heat/rut. Like the omega just 'accidentally' getting their heat near the alpha. Or going over to the alpha's house while they're having their rut because they forgot something or someone said the alpha was 'sick' and they wanted to check on them. Maybe the omega even takes something to induce a heat before going over...

Then you have yandere omega who adores a beta. The omega being super clingy and possessive because they have no way to claim, or be claimed. Or using the fact the beta doesn't understand typical social norms with omegas being used against them, so the omega is doing shit that would happen between mates but the beta is none the wiser.

One could also do yandere alpha who has a thing for a beta. The alpha threatening anyone who even tries to get with the beta who's none the wiser. Same with the omega in the fact it really drives them up the wall they have no way to mark you. And oh imagine the alpha practically begging the poor beta over the phone and guilt tripping them into coming over during their rut.

These ideas have been in my head so long and the only reason I even feel the need to say it is because I've been having a certain idea in mind for a Mr. O'hara that wont leave me alone.

You know this actually puts my mind in a little time machine where I once had an idea for like, an afab Reader x Izuku quirkless AU where you're in the same university and you're an athlete (my preference is soccer player) and you eventually notice there's a young man who's a little shorter than you are who seems to always watch your practices and every game, just looking so wide-eyed and impressed as he always seems to look only at you, and it becomes this weird like, you're actually bigger and stronger than him but the little worm starts approaching you and being, uh, unintentionally creepy. He'll want your autograph, say what a big fan he is, how cool you are, shit he'll just greet you with a hug when he knows you don't like him and he doesn't even react when you shove him away. He's just a really clingy fucking uwu bottom and you're kind of wary about him because even though he's smaller than you, there's some suspicious strength in those hugs

Izuku absolutely strikes me as the type, "ohhhh noOooOoo, Reader, what's wrong? Are you in a rut? O-oh no, whatever shall we dooooo" *comes as close to you and touches you as much as he possibly can, deliberately trying to rile you up until youre riding his dick or getting HIM pregnant, also, babytrapping izuku, obviously*

But oh my fucking god my dude don't get me started thinking on ABO shit with Miguel 💦 literally laying in my bed right now thinking about how he's literally taller than my bed is long and really just letting it sink in what an absolute tank that man is. He's the kind of man that can fuck you standing full-Nelson style just holding you up in his arms. There is absolutely no chance in hell you can physically overpower him unless he's like, drunk or drugged or something. And of course now I'm thinking of Miguel hitting the margaritas a little too hard and you snap awake in bed to find your boss who you've never slept with before climbing on top of you, maybe he doesn't even fuck you, he's just so drunk he started thinking about how nice it would be to fall asleep cuddling you and inhaling your scent and you're just caged by this unmoving wall of a man with an iron grip who covers your face in sloppy kisses until he passes out

I feel like I've seen a few posts around where people talk about Spiderpeople having mating seasons or heats or whatever and, really you can just have that as abo, either or. You're just this poor unassuming Beta who thinks you're nothing special until one day you're bringing him a coffee his assistant told you to bring him and, suddenly a man overcome with animalistic need is pinning you against the nearest surface and claiming your mouth with his own. I hate what a basic bitch I am with A x O being my preference but hey, there's a time, place, character, and concept for everything right ;) goddddd Alpha Miguel would fill an Omega partner with so many pups, mf fucks you once and suddenly you're knocked up with triplets.

Was literally starting a new draft for a brand new idea when you sent this and, I think im gonna not post about it yet bc, I kinda just wanna see how much I can write if I just slam through it. Sometimes the inspiration just HITS you know? But nah dude I'm definitely guilty over lowkey obsessing about this man like deadass checking his r34 tag every other day, I am down something horrendous, I want this man in a way that is concerning to feminism, like this is gonna be me going to the theaters this Saturday

#yandere miguel o'hara #yandere x reader #yandere spiderverse #honestly i have a feeling i dont even show up in the tags lmao #sinprompts #yandere stuff

[cookiesupplier]

A Friend Down In Hell - Part Twenty-Two END

pairing: Nick Folio x ofc (Ishtar)

warnings/tropes: slow burn, pining, idiot in love, language, drinking, mentions of violence, mentions of torture, mentions of religious mythology.

summary: Folio can't quite tell you how long he's been dead, but it doesn't matter when he has friends like his, and Ishtar. Ishtar, with whom he fell in love the moment he met her. The problem? She doesn't know it. How does he convince a demon, who is practically immortal, to date him when he's dead? How did Ellie do it so easily?

author’s note: Final Part for Folio & Ishtar.. but don't worry the Hell-Verse is not over yet, keep an eye out..

To read from the beginning: A Friend Down In Hell Masterlist

And for those that missed Noah & Ellie's Story previously, all Hell-Verse stories will be included here: Combined Hell-Verse Masterlist

tags: @spicywhenspeaking @tearfallpixie @cncohshit @nyxthedestroyerofworlds @lyschko666 @bngurngheart @lacktoesandtoddlerants @sorrowsofsilence @collapsedglasshouses @vinyardmauro @dsireland86 @4rtificialfolio @emmmm127 @badomensls @agravemisstake @sunsshinesunny @blackveilomens @jilliemiw86

Tag lists are open, please let me know if you'd like to be added to this story, the Hell-Verse as a whole, or Everything

“Let's go, Sunshine, give them some time to think it over.”

Ishtar joined Nick as they left the bar to head back to her apartment. She’d teleported to the bar to get there, this morning, so it was no trouble at all to choose to go with him on his bike, or summon her helmet with a snap of her fingers. Neither was a bother, if anything she preferred it, spending time with him was always something she preferred. Yes, she’d sent him away last night, but everyone needed a bit of alone time when they were stressed now and then, even her. Now, now she was overjoyed, and she just knew she didn’t want to be apart from him. Knowing that he was willing to face a man that had just tried to stab him last night to defend her, ridiculous, absolutely ridiculous, but, she just wanted to wrap herself around him and never let go.

Of course, as soon as they got to her apartment building, when they stepped into her apartment, the door closed behind them, Ishtar spun around on him and smacked her hand across his bicep. She used an open palm, right across his skin, a nice slap. Not as hard as she could, but none too lightly either, she wanted him to feel it a little bit, just a little anyway, not to much, just enough to know she was serious.

“Ow!”

So she did it again, and again.

“Ow, ow! Okay, okay, I get it!”

“Do you, Sunshine? Tony tried to stab you yesterday, and you just walked right into that office to confront them alone? You didn’t even tell me you were going!”

At the very least, he looked a tiny bit sheepish at that.

“You would have tried to stop me and told I didn’t need to go in, and I know you had it handled, but Ishtar, hear me out, I caused the problem, I wanted to at least try to fix it. To go and see your boss in person and tell him to his face just what kind of man that Tony is. In my experience, horrible people like Tony get away with the shit that they do, because they get away with so many little things, that when something big like yesterday happens, everyone goes.. Oh well, no one will punish him for it, so what’s the point?”

Nick expression was set into a fierce gaze, and Ishtar couldn’t help but wonder if her Sunshine hadn’t met men like Tony in his time in the living realm as well. Then again, he was a biker he worked in a bar just like she did, they got all kinds and that she knew well, who knows what kind of people might have crossed his path during his life. It was fair to say that he might have indeed come across others, just like Tony, that got away with all kinds of things because no one challenged them. Taking in a slow deep breath at his words, she sighed.

“Alright, I understand, but you understand mine, too, right? You could have taken Noah, Nicholas, or even Jolly, anyone would have been better than no one, Nick!”

Her voice cracked a little at the end when she thought about what could have happened if Tony had attacked him again, and her boss had done nothing to stop it. He had been friends with Tony longer than she had worked there, longer than she’d been alive in this lifetime, who knows what could have gone down once he had arrived. Nick might not be able to die again, but it would not have been a fair fight, not when Tony had backup this time.

Folio wanted to continue to insist he would have been fine, he wanted to argue that he could handle Tony just like he had last night. He was a coward at worst, and a pansy that couldn’t throw a decent punch at best, but then when her voice did that thing, he swallowed it down. No, he wouldn’t argue. Taking in a deep breath instead, he reached for her, arms circling around her waist just as hers then wrapped around his shoulders, hugging him to her tightly, a soft sound escaping her throat.

“I’m sorry, Princess. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to worry you so badly, I’ll remember to be more careful next time I have to deal with them, I swear. Always with you, always with backup. Never let myself get away with me.. You have my word.”

Not be stupid enough not to accept Jolly’s offer next time! That would be a good starting point at least.

“Oh, Sunshine, I don’t think there is going to be a next time.”

Pulling back from her to groan,

“You don’t seriously think they’ll still have the gall to fire you after that? Noah and Nicholas will rip into them when they find out what Tony did! Can they send him to punishment? Are there punishment realms for demons? Please tell me yes, please!”

“Hold on, Sunshine, hold on, that’s not what I mean. Hearing everything you said to Mario, and Tony in the office, about me, about what I have to put up with there, even if I don’t get fired, I don’t want to work there any more. I’m done. Working at the bar, I wanted to work my way up, and it's not worth debasing myself like that any more. They aren’t going to let me get anywhere, I need to make my own way. I’ve always wanted my own place, and it's about time. Maybe a little café.”

Folio lit up at the sound of it, Ishtar had talked about her dreams of owning her own little café one day more than once, and the thought sounded perfect for her. She was wonderful with people, and he loved her baking, how could he ever not support her in this?

“With breakfast wraps?”

Hearing her lyrical laugh when he asked her that. Of course, he was going to ask that, there was no way he was going to be going to the shop across the street when he was going to be going to Ishtar’s instead. Breakfast wraps or not. He would just get something else instead if she chose to make a different variety to keep up a fresh menu.

“Maybe, or maybe something better. I’m sure I could come up with my own version. I found a recipe for breakfast muffins, and I’ll throw in an apple crumble one on the house just for you, Sunshine.”

“As if you haven’t already gotten me sold, Princess.”

Cupping her face in his hands, he pressed his lips to hers in a sweet kiss, grinning all the while, over the moon right then. For a morning when he had been absolutely distraught with the disaster that the night before had been, he was overjoyed right then. Looking into her bright, sparkling eyes, the joy there, he just knew, Folio knew..

“Ishtar.. I want to bond, I want to bond with you. I love you more than anything. I want to share this life with you, and your next life, and the next.. Not to mention every life after. I want to wear your vines proudly on my skin for everyone to see.”

Hearing her giggle when he mentioned her vines, her lips pressed right back against his in response, he would take that as an agreement, an enthusiastic agreement! He knew it would be different for him, in a sense giving up reincarnation to stay with her, but any time he’d even thought about going back, the pros did not out weight the cons in his point of view. While he openly talked about having no interest, he was sure everyone considered it, at least sometimes, who didn’t wonder about the world of the living sometimes.

Ishtar preparing for their bonding didn’t take long at all. Some liked to make a ceremony of it, but Ishtar always considered it to be something that should be more personal, something that was very private. It was a bonding of the souls, it was a magical ritual that was about to voluntarily bind the very essence of what made them who they were together for the rest of eternity. Yes, she had been surprised when Nick had told her he had never wanted to get married, and yet had sort out the information on bonding with her so readily. Marriage was nothing but a signature on a piece of paper for her, a vow for humans she supposed, but bonding was a magical blood tie that lasted beyond death.

For her, she had always dreamed about whom she might one day want to bond with, but Ishtar never thought it would be like this, though, so intense, so quickly. Ishtar knew others that were involved for years before they even considered bonding, and here she was, only weeks with Nick. Weeks, well, weeks after five years.. But she knew. She knew the moment that Nick told her that he wanted to bond with her, warmth had swelled in her chest, that she’d made the right choice. She’d known the moment she’d mentioned it in the field, under the starts. The way he assured her he never wanted her to push her into human ways instead of demonic ones, how could she not want to wrap him up and keep him for her own? 

Some might say it was selfish in so many ways, that it was asking him to give up reincarnation. She didn’t see it that way. Nick would have to live with her dying and having to wait for her to come back to him every few hundred years, and if she had to do the same now and then? If he wanted to reincarnate and go back into the world, and she had to remind him of who she was when he came back to hell, she would, each and every time he wanted to go. She could only hope he’d still fall in love with her still, for while her soul would be bound to his, but his soul wouldn’t be bound to hers.

That didn’t deter her, he’d always be her Sunshine, no matter what.

It wasn’t even lunchtime when they were kneeling in the middle of the sitting room. Ishtar had cleared the furniture from around the space and laid down a sheet. She used charcoal to draw the binding symbols in a circle around the space on the sheet where they were now kneeling in the middle of. Nick was shirtless, while Ishtar wore one of her light sun dresses, so her arms were completely bare along with most of her shoulders. She had written the runes that she needed him to use onto a piece of paper, and where he was to place them, but the next step some found a bit squeamish. Thankfully, she full well knew that Nick would be able to handle the sight of blood.

Ishtar was careful was where she sliced their hands open, the worst mistake anyone made was cutting open their palm to affect their nerves. Not that either of them had to worry about not healing, or that their nerves would suffer permanent damage from the cuts. Just the same, the ritual spell required them both to bleed into the bowl between them, mixing their blood together. From here Ishtar painted a series of runes with her fingertips in a mixture of their blood, along Nick’s shoulder blades, and down his biceps and forearms, and he did the same to her. The runes on each of their bodies were different, one denoting that she was binding her soul to his, and he was the one being bound to. 

Once Nick was finished, Ishtar smiled softly to herself. He had insisted that she have a way to check to make sure that he got all the runes perfect, which was why they had a handheld mirror inside the circle. It had to be inside, they couldn’t leave the circle before the bonding was complete, or it would dissipate the runes, and they’d have to start again from scratch. She checked, and sure enough, thanks to her guidance, and his careful following of the guide drawing, he got them just right. 

Taking his hands in hers, she grasped them and began the final steps of the ritual. The demonic language of the spell flowed from her tongue seamlessly as she spoke the words to bind herself to him. To give her soul to him for the rest of her life, all of her lives, with every death and rebirth. Just as he would bare her soul mark from here on, he was in her heart always.

The moment the words ended, the runes seemed to melt into one long line on both of their skin and flowed into the air forming a scarlet ribbon made of their blood. It flowed through the air, and wound its way around their arms. One wrap around each arm, before tightening around their skin, as if to act as the very binding, before the blood ribbon fading and sank into their skin. This was their red string of fate, it was always going to be a part of them, and Ishtar would have it no other way.

“It’s done.”

Seeing Nick beaming back at her,

“It’s finished?”

Her eyes flickered down to the side of his neck slightly with a smile, “Have a look for yourself, Sunshine.” She held up the mirror for him to have a look at himself. Ishtar watched him as he held up the handheld mirror to see the mirror image of the vines that ran down the side of her neck down the bare side of his neck, the side that was previously unmarked. Seeing the way he practically radiated pure joy at that moment, sunshine, just as she always called him.

“It’s perfect. Now, every time I look in the mirror, I get to be reminded how lucky I am to be bonded to you, Princess.”

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

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