#that was the last straw for coin | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

myclovernew · 1 month ago

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hate you, love you [lee myung-gi]

⟢ pairing: myung-gi x fem!reader (basically replacing junhee as player 222 sorry jo yuri my queen)

⟢ fluff but a little steamy near the end...

⟢ word count: 4k

⟢ a/n: hai everyone this is my first ever fic here on tumblr and i haven't written anything in over four years so i apologize if the writing is terrible LOL squid game and myung-gi brainrot had me down BAD

the annoyingly cheerful music blaring at what felt like 7 in the morning woke me up. the last thing i could remember before falling asleep was getting into a white semi-van driven by a man in a red hoodie whose face i couldn't quite make out. so where in the hell was i now?

blinking a couple times before rubbing one eye, i slowly slid up to the point where i could feel the cold, metal backboard of the bed i was in through the thin polyester jacket i had on. that's when i realized i was in a completely different outfit than the one i had on the night before. looking around, i noticed others slowly waking, everyone in the same outfit as mine with only a slight difference. we were all numbered, and my number was 222.

a guy who was in the bed directly in front of mine started waking up at that moment, mumbling something incoherent to himself and then letting out a huge sigh. the number on the back of his jacket was 333. only when he turned slightly to his left is when i realized; i'd recognize that side profile anywhere.

"lee my-" before i could even finish calling out his name, the speaker sent out feedback indicating the start of something unknown. everyone was awake at this point, walking towards the center pool of people.

that's when an alarm went off, and an automatic door let in a group of eerily mysterious people dressed in pink jumpsuits, their faces covered by black masks with either squares or circles painted on them in white.

"i would like to extend a hearty welcome to all of you," one of the square guards started. i was watching from the foot of my bed, trying to scan the crowd to navigate that piece of shit. i can't believe that asshole is here too, i thought to myself while half paying attention to whatever the square guy is saying.

"everyone here will participate in six different games over six days." games? what are we in, grade school? "those who win all six games will receive a handsome cash prize."

now that's what i wanted to hear. when that salesman looking guy approached me a week ago, he had me play a game of ddakji, which i was a natural at. so of course i beat him on the first round. he gave me 100,000 won as a prize and a rustic brown business card with only a number on the back. i debated on calling the ominous number for days on end, but the final straw was having all 58 of my calls to that asshole myung-gi ignored. he had "borrowed" 500,000 won from me to kickstart a stock he was investing in and just never paid me back. a couple of weeks after was when i found out his dumbass had led a bunch of his stream viewers to invest in the wrong coin, causing a lot of not-so-happy, middle aged men struggling to make ends meet to go after him.

anyway, i was determined to make him pay.

a couple of people from the huge crowd started yelling out remarks, demanding for answers.

"what happened to my clothes?" "did you kidnap us?" "why are you wearing a mask?" "show your face!"

then one person started asking for their phone, insisting that they had to check the crypto market.

"player 333, lee myung-gi," the square guard had declared. my head immediately snapped up, eyes glued to the screen that had just turned on. a video of myung-gi started playing and it was him being embarrassingly bad at the same game of ddakji i had played with the salesman. i couldn't help but laugh to myself as hundreds of people watched him get slapped, how humiliating.

"current debt levels, 1.8 billion won." oh you had to be joking.

that made the measly 500,000 won he owed me look like nothing. no wonder he was ignoring my calls, the loser had absolutely no means of paying me back, let alone getting rid of his own debt.

i lost sight of myung-gi when the guards had us line up and sign what looked like a consent form to play the games. it seemed a bit excessive, but i guess they had to keep it all professional. we then had our photos taken before being led up multiple flights of pink, maze-like stairs.

all at once, three giant doors opened up to a large, sand-filled area. the guards instructed us to go in and stand behind the red line drawn on the ground. at the very end of the field was an enlarged cartoonish doll. what could we possibly be doing here?

i looked around for myung-gi again, hoping to catch him by surprise when he saw my face afters months of ignoring me.

"the first game is red light, green light," a woman's voice iterated through the speakers. red light, green light? i hadn't played that since i was a kid. "cross the finish line before the five minutes are up. if you do, you pass."

this honestly felt like a joke. why were we getting paid to play children's games?

"everyone!" i squinted my eyes to see a middle-aged man, his number being 456, run to the middle of the crowd. "everyone, pay attention!" he was waving his arms like a mad man to try and get everyone to listen to him.

"this is not just a game!" what?

"if you lose, you die!" there's no way that was true. did he mean get eliminated? they wouldn't really kill us, would they? i looked around to watch everyone else's expressions. some started visibly shaking, others shaking their heads in pure disbelief.

at that moment, the robotic doll turned around and put her hand up to her eyes.

"let the game begin."

the first "red light, green light" was said and everyone began to move. as soon as the doll stopped to look around, i stayed as still as possible. the man from earlier was still yelling at everyone to freeze, and something in me started to believe in what he was saying about the game. as i froze in place, i scanned the people around me. 239, 009, 176, 028, and 333. found you.

the next "red light, green light" played and i ran towards myung-gi. he might've been a crypto bro who practically lived at the pc cafe, but damn he was a fast runner. the next couple of "red light, green light's" went off and i was just about a feet behind him now. that's when a loud "bang" echoed throughout the hall. a gun shot. more gun shots sounded, followed by ear-piercing screams. stay still, stay still, i thought to myself.

then it went silent. everyone who was still alive was frozen in their places, not even moving when the doll said "red light, green light." my eyes focused on myung-gi. he was breathing so heavily i could hear him.

"red light, green light." the man from earlier, player 456, was the only one to move as he ran past all of us. "red light, green light." he moved a bit further, with his back facing us.

"the doll detects motion," he yelled out as he had one hand behind his back, moving it around to prove what he was saying was true. so as long as the doll couldn't physically see me moving, i would be fine.

"we're running out of time. we have to move!" shit.

"red light, green light." everyone moved then, finding someone bigger than them to hide behind. i was still behind myung-gi, who i admit was shorter than most guys here, but then again so was i. we were almost by the finish line, with a little less than a minute left.

"red light, green light." we moved again in a synced matter. but just as the doll was about to turn her head, myung-gi tripped on someone's foot. he's going to die, i thought. without thinking, i put out my arm, and grasped onto the back of his jacket.

"don't. move," i whisper-yelled, my teeth gritting against each other. myung-gi didn't make a sound.

"red light, green light," i let go and he regained his balance, the two of us crossing the finish line. i bent over, my hands resting on my knees as i tried to breathe normally again.

"y/n?" myung-gi questioned. i looked back up to him, scanning his face. as much as he was confused as to why i was here, he also looked relieved to see a familiar face.

"aren't you going to thank me?" i retorted. i did just save his life.

"oh, yeah," he said, his hand reaching the back of his head, "thank you. seriously." i sighed and gave him a slight nod. frankly, i was too exhausted and too desperate to get out of this place to even demand for my money back from him right now. he opened his mouth again, like he had something to say, but got quickly distracted by the ceiling of the arena slowly closing in. the game was over.

the guards had us all walk back into the room we woke up in. it was eerily quiet; people were scared for their lives. i just wanted to go home. i didn't even care about the money anymore. why would any of this even matter if i didn't make it out alive?

everyone made it back inside as the guards followed behind the last couple of players, stopping in front of the door they first walked out of. some of the players ran down to the middle of the floor and started kneeling to the ground, rubbing their hands profusely, begging to be saved.

"we are not trying to hurt you. we are only presenting you with an opportunity," the square guard declared.

"clause three of the consent form!" i turned around to look at the player that yelled this out. it was the same man that was helping everyone in the last game, player 456. "the games may be terminated upon a majority vote. correct?"

oh thank god. we actually had a chance at getting out of here before they had us all killed.

that's when the room went dim, and a golden piggy bank was slowly let down from the ceiling. even i was mesmerized, my eyes glued to the stacks of money falling into it. the guard then explained there was a sum of 9.1 billion won in the bank, and if we all wanted to leave now, it would be split by all current players. murmurs erupted, some people wanting to stay and play more games for the sum to rise, while others still wanted to leave.

"now, let's begin the vote."

the guards started calling out player numbers, starting from the last number, 456. the first vote was an X. each player received a tag with either an X or an O, indicating what they had voted for.

"player 333." i watched as myung-gi emerged from the crowd, and walked towards the buttons. i swear to god.

the sound of the button went off and so did a flash of blue light. he picked O.

he barely even made it through the first game without my help, yet he wanted to stay and continue playing? i scoffed to myself, he really did only care about himself.

"player 222." it was finally my turn. i walked up to the voting stand, confident in my answer. i hit the X button and received my tag. walking back to the group of other X voters, i looked over at myung-gi standing on the opposite side who was also watching me from afar. i narrowed my eyes and made a face full of utter disgust and disappointment, then looked away. in that moment, i regretted saving him at all.

the voting ended shortly, the O's winning by one point. we really had to stay and play another game. it was absurd to me, all these people being blinded by the money after seeing firsthand how one wrong move could literally get you killed.

food service happened after the voting and each person was given a meal. i walked back to my bed and opened up the metal box to find a layer of white rice, topped with an egg, sausage, and picked radish. it honestly wasn't bad at all. i was eating peacefully before myung-gi walked up, holding out his box of food and resting his arms on the foot of my bed.

"you want the radish? i know it's your favorite," i looked up at him, mid-chew of a mouthful of rice and egg. the radish was my favorite, but i was surprised he remembered that at all. without saying anything back, because i was still mad at him, i took the pieces of radish out of his box and put it in mine.

"are you mad at me?" i looked up from my food again. he could not be serious. we were making eye contact now, but the purple-ish, blue ring forming around his left eye caught my attention.

"what happened to your eye?" i asked, ignoring his initial question. i don't even know why i brought it up, i could care less about this asshole.

"don't worry about it." say less! i went back to eating my food, myung-gi still hovering, waiting for the answer to his question. i gave him a "what?" look with a shoulder shrug and seems like he took that for an answer because he turned back around and started walking away without saying another word.

i looked toward his direction ever so often after finishing up my meal. he really was a loser and didn't have anyone else here, not even someone to team up with. he sat straight up on his bed, poking at the rice with his spoon. a couple of hours passed by, and it was soon bedtime. the lights in the room dimmed and everyone was in their beds by this point. i pulled the thin cotton blanket over me and readjusted my pillow so it was leaning a bit against the bed board. i lay there on my back with my hands intertwined across my chest, closed my eyes and desperately tried to fall asleep. but it was one of those nights where your eyes were sleeping, and your body wasn't. hours passed and i was still awake. i tried turning to my side, readjusting my pillow again, but nothing worked. at a loss, i just kept my eyes open and stared at the bottom of the bed above mine.

the older gentleman to my right was snoring like there was no tomorrow, and a woman in her mid-20s to my left kept turning around every 5 minutes. even if i did manage to fall asleep, i probably would've woken up because of one or the other. that's when i heard someone nearby talking, or it was more of a loud whisper. i sat right up on my bed to figure out where the noise was coming from, only to see the source was right in front of me.

myung-gi was talking... but to himself? i slowly peeled the blanket off of myself and threw both legs over the edge of my bed. i stepped on my shoes without properly putting them on, and walked towards his bed, making sure not to make anymore noise that could wake up anyone else. i watched as myung-gi continued to blurt out sentences and random words in his sleep, but i couldn't quite make out what he was actually saying. his eyes were fully closed, but his eyebrows were at a slight furrow with sweat beading on his forehead. he looked like he was burning up. without even realizing, i reached my hand out to his forehead, hovering just an inch above it. i didn't even need to make contact with his skin to know he had a fever. i retracted my hand and bent down to my feet to fully put on my shoes before walking over to the door that led to the restroom. a guard was standing by the door and it took me a good 10 minutes for him to let me use the restroom, finally convincing him by saying it was that time of the month.

i grabbed a long piece of a paper towel, folded it, and let it run under the cold water for a bit. i walked back out the door without the guard noticing the paper towel in my hand and made it back to myung-gi, who was thankfully still asleep. i reached out my arms to place the towel on his forehead, but before i could take them back, myung-gi's hand wrapped around my left wrist. his eyes were slightly open, but i couldn't quite tell if he was actually awake or not.

"stay," he croaked, his voice coming out raspy. i stood there unsure what to do and his grasp still on my arm. "please."

well it's not like i could fall asleep anyway. i used my feet to take off my shoes and climbed into his bed, using his arm as a pillow. i cautiously turned to slightly face him, but myung-gi looked like he had already fallen back asleep. i turned back around, closed my eyes, and without even knowing it, fell asleep right then.

i felt warmer than usual as i started waking up to the same music that played when i first got here. eyes still closed, i turned over to my right side and felt even warmer. it was a nice feeling and i wanted to stay here just for a couple more minutes.

the chatter from the people around me woke me up. vision still blurry, i blinked profusely to make sure i wasn't hallucinating. i was looking straight at myung-gi, our faces almost an inch apart. his eyes were still closed and i could even hear his heartbeat; we were that close. we were also under the same blanket now, not knowing how i even got to that position considering he was hogging the thing when i first laid down.

i didn't know what to do. i didn't want to move now because then he'd wake up and i'd have to confront him. i just kept looking at his face, focusing on the bruise from yesterday, which was now a little darker in color. he didn't look like he still had a fever, but something in me wanted to check anyway. i freed my left arm from my own grip and slowly raised it up to his forehead, but before i could even check, myung-gi opened his eyes. i quickly dropped my hand and closed my eyes, pretending like i had never even woken.

fuck, fuck, fuck, shit, shit, shit.

then i heard him starting to laugh, myung-gi was laughing at me. i peeked one eye open and he started to laugh even harder. now i felt myself heating up. guards please take me now, just take me now. as i was about to say something, myung-gi used the blanket to cover me entirely and pulled me in even closer.

"what the fuck are you do-" i tried to get out, but my voice got muffled by the blanket as he brought me in even closer. oh my god i thought i was going to explode.

"you hiding something under that blanket?" a voice questioned from outside. i took that as my queue to stay as silent as possible.

"no, why would i be?" myung-gi answered back.

"don't talk back to me, fucker. unless you want a matching black eye." oh, so this must've been the person that beat the shit out of myung-gi yesterday. myung-gi didn't respond this time, but i could feel his arm around me loosen as the footsteps got further away. i reached for the rim of the blanket and pulled it back down enough for my face to show. that was a bad idea, because i was just about touching his chest now.

"if you wanted a hug you could've just said so," he said sarcastically, a one-sided grin forming on his face as he looked down at me.

"in your dreams," i said, all flustered. i quickly pushed myself away before he could pull anything else and practically stumbled out of the bed. i didn't even look back as i put on my shoes and walked out to regroup with the rest of the players.

they had us get into groups of five for the second game, making it a game based on team effort. i teamed up with four older guys, one of them being player 456 from earlier. i was glad i didn't end up with myung-gi this game, because honestly i didn't know how to face him after last night. but i still found myself glancing over at him throughout the game to make sure he was still alive.

we both got through the second game, but it was still silence between us. i didn't go up to him and neither did he try and talk to me. i couldn't fall asleep that night either, but i didn't dare get out of my bed.

the next game came around quickly. i stuck with the group i had made during the previous game, and we quickly got the hang of this new game. we were placed onto a merry-go-round like platform and spun around until the music stopped. the speaker would blurt out a number and the same amount of people would need to run and find a room to stay in. if the room had more or less people than the number that was said, you would die. as a group of 5, we got through teams of 3 and 6 pretty easily. but then the speaker called out 2. i looked up as everyone paired up, and i had no one. my mind went fuzzy, everyone was running around screaming and looking for their friends. i felt like i was going to faint until i felt someone grab onto my wrist and started to drag me off the platform. i picked up on the pace and ran like my life depended on it, because it did.

we ran into a purple room and shut the door. my back was pinned to the wall as myung-gi still held onto my wrist. we were both trying to catch our breath, but then he leaned in closer. my body froze and we were only inches apart again. i was looking into his eyes, then panned down to his lips, just to trace back up to his eyes again. the door clicked shut and we were stuck in here. together.

in that moment, i felt his lips touch mine. i closed my eyes as i let myself melt into the kiss. he let go of my wrist and positioned one hand at my waist while the other creeped up the back of my neck. i could feel my shirt fleeting as his fingertips made contact with my skin ever so lightly. my hands made their way up his chest as i gripped onto his shirt and pulled him in even closer, deepening the kiss and eliciting a whiny moan from him. i wanted this to go on forever.

the door made another clicking sound, letting us know we could go back out. i loosened my grip before myung-gi could get his hand up any higher under my shirt.

"we have to," i let out, mid-kiss, "go." we both came to a stop then, realizing we had to go back out onto the platform. i quickly straightened up my shirt with my hands and reached up to myung-gi's hair which was looking all disheveled now to smooth it back out into his natural middle part.

"we're not done yet," he whispered into my ear as we walked out the door, parting ways once again.

that's when i knew i'd be getting a good night's sleep tonight.

#squid game #player 333 #im siwan #squid game season 2 #squid game x reader #lee myunggi

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thewickedjazzy · 4 months ago

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Level 2: Slow Burn [Shotgunning] for Kinktober.

ᡣ𐭩Chuuya Nakahara x afab! Reader

Synopsis : sweet chuu has been secretly dying to try shotgunning with you, and tonight, the ginger finally snaps—ensuring you a good time.

Warnings: nsfw mdni, soft!chuuya, obv. shotgunning/sharing smoke, oral sex (giving and receiving), pussy drunk!chuuya, cum eating, suggestive themes, smoking, light bdsm (blindfold), sensual touches, consent.

Word count: 2.5k

ᡣ𐭩-check Kink Coin to unlock bonus fics´-

it was one of your usual quiet evenings, wrapped in the warm glow of a flickering candle on the table. you sit comfortably, your legs tucked beneath you as you thumb through the pages of your favourite book, utterly absorbed. a glass of red wine sits within arm’s reach, half-full, forgotten for now as you sink deeper into the story.

across from you, your boyfriend sits with a poetry book in his lap. he’s been reading—or at least pretending to.

of course, you notice he hasn’t turned a page in a while. you glance up, catching his eyes on you—no, not just on you, but on your lips. he quickly looks away, pretending to read, but the corner of your mouth twitches into a smile. you’ve seen that look before. he’s been distracted for days, something swirling behind those deep, pretty azure eyes of his, but he hasn’t voiced it yet.

you shift slightly, the sound of fabric rustling pulling his eyes back to you. when you reach for the pack of cigarettes on the table and slide one between your lips, it’s the last straw. he watches, almost in a trance, as you strike the lighter. the flame flickers briefly before the tip of the cigarette burns red, and you take a slow drag. the way your delicious lips cradle the slim cigarette, the lazy curl of smoke that escapes your mouth, clings to your lips like the embrace of shadowy lovers—he tries to shift his attention to the book on his lap but can’t take it anymore.

“baby, what’s up? i know when you’re too lost, thinking about something,” you say softly, pulling him from his thoughts. he looks up, and this time, he doesn’t bother hiding the way his gaze lingers on your lips, watching the way the smoke dances around them.

he sighs, setting his book aside and leaning forward, his elbows resting on his knees. “doll... there’s something i’ve been wanting to try with you,” he murmurs, his voice so beautifully soft. “but i... wasn’t sure how to bring it up.”

you smile, intrigued, of course. it's not like every day you see chuuya this reluctant. it isn’t like him to be shy about anything with you, but the subtle blush colouring his cheeks and the way he murmurs "doll" sends a shiver throughout your entire body, making your heart lowkey skip a beat. “mhm? tell me,” you coax softly, the cigarette balanced delicately between your fingers as you take another slow drag, eyes never leaving his.

he hesitates for just a moment longer, eyes locked on your lips. “have ya ever heard of...uh.. shotgunning?”

your smile widens, heart fluttering at the way he bites his lip and looks away, his pale features now painted a deep red hue. chuuya is so often confident, but in moments like this, he shows a softer side only you are allowed to see. “i've heard of it... why? you... wanna try it?” you purr softly, leaning forward.

he gives a slow nod, and you notice his adam’s apple bob as he swallows thickly. “yeah... but only if you're comfortable with it.”

you chuckle softly, finding his bashfulness endearing. “chuu, baby” you say, warmth lacing your words as you put out the cigarette. “you know that i trust you.”

“good, then... trust me on this.” he stands and heads to the bedroom, disappearing for a moment before returning with a silk burgundy blindfold in hand. settling back down across from you on the couch, he meets your gaze with underlying excitement, shimmering in his azure eyes, the blindfold draped loosely between his fingers.

your breath catches slightly as you see the blindfold, excitement curling in your belly. he’s never done something like this before, but you’re already intrigued. “what are you planning, chuu?” you giggle softly.

he leans in close, his breath brushing against your lips. “i want you to feel everything... without sight. let me take the lead, doll. i promise you’ll like it.”

your pulse quickens as you nod, lips parting slightly in anticipation.

his bare, slender fingers graze your cheek as he carefully ties the blindfold around your eyes. the world around you fades to darkness, heightening your other senses, god, you never thought something like this could feel this good. the way you can hear his soft breathing, the rustle of his clothes, and definitely feel the heat radiating off him as he inches closer—it’s like multiplying bliss by infinity and getting bonus points for it.

“relax f’me, baby,” his raspy low voice makes your heart skip a beat. you take a deep breath, your body already responding to his soothing tone.

you feel the soft brush of his lips against your temple, the barest touch of his fingers on your jaw as he tilts your chin up slightly. “yeahh.. you look s'pretty like this, doll,” he murmurs, his words wrapping around you like a caress. “just focus on me, yeah?”

you nod again, and you can hear the faint click of his lighter as he takes a drag from his cigarette. the next moment, his hand is back on your jaw, guiding you closer to him.

“breathe with me, doll” he whispers against your lips.

you part your lips, waiting for the sensation. and then, it hits you as he exhales, the hot smoke flowing from his mouth to yours. the warmth of his breath, the taste of the smoke and the closeness of his body—it’s all so intoxicating, so overwhelming. you inhale deeply, taking in the smoke and the sensation of his lips hovering so close to yours, but not even touching, it's quite torturous in a good way.

you can barely stand it—the taste of him mingles with the smoke, the sweet faint smell of his perfume, the closeness, the way his fingers trace the line of your cheekbone—it’s all too much, in the best possible way. your belly tingles with the sensation, every nerve alive under his touch.

“shit… umh,” he curses softly against your lips, his warm breath grazing your lower lip as he exhales, his forehead pressing lightly against yours. he closes his eyes for a moment, savouring the feel of you. he's on cloud nine, his mind short-circuiting from the way you trust him so completely, surrendering every inch of yourself to him—it’s too much. “i’ve been wanting to do this for so long.”

you let out a breathless chuckle, your breath shaky as you brush your lips against his, barely touching but enough to make his cock harden beneath his boxers. “then don’t stop,” you breathe, your words almost lost in the quiet of the room—he doesn't need to be told twice.

he takes another slow drag, this time letting the smoke linger in his lungs before leaning in again. soft pink lips graze yours, just the faintest touch as he exhales into your mouth once more, the smoke curling around your tongue. the gesture, so tender yet so intimate, sends a wave of heat rushing through you. your fingers slip under the choker around his neck, tugging him closer, needing to anchor yourself in the moment.

and just then, you feel his delicious lips finally press against yours, the taste of smoke still lingering on both your tongues. you feel his hands slide down to your waist, pulling you closer as you gasp for air.

the cigarette lies forgotten in the ashtray, its smoke fading into the background as you lose yourself in the taste of his lips.

he groans softly as your body presses against his, pulling away, his lips ghosts over your cheek, pressing soft, intimate kisses before trailing down to your jaw and then the sensitive spot just beneath your ear. “god... ngh, you’ve got no idea how fucking good you feel...” he murmurs, “...I need you, s'much.”

your fingers tangle in his soft ginger hair, giving a gentle tug, not being able to see makes you even more sensitive to every breathless word he whispers. he pulls back just enough to take in the sight of you, admiring how gorgeous you look with your lips parted, breath coming in soft, needy gasps.

he then stands up, towering over you as you sit obediently on the couch, still blindfolded. the room is silent for a moment, filled only by the sound of your own breathing, until you hear the unmistakable sound of his belt buckle coming undone. the soft clink of metal makes your mouth water, pleasure building with every passing second. you bite your lower lip, licking it delightfully, knowing exactly what's about to come.

you feel the soft pad of his thumb brush against your lower lip. instinctively, you open your mouth, letting him slide it inside. you suck on it seductively, swirling your tongue around his finger, drawing a deep, throaty groan from him.

he pulls his thumb from your mouth slowly, the wetness lingering on your lips as you wait for him impatiently.

the next moment, you feel the weight of his cock pressing against your lips, the soft, swollen tip brushing against them. without hesitation, you open your mouth wider, welcoming him in, and slide your lips down his length. the feeling of his girthy cock filling your mouth, warm and heavy, makes your cunt drip with pleasure. You take him in deeper, swallowing him whole until your lips meet the base of his cock, your throat tightening around him.

“haah..ffuck,” he drawls, his hand moving to the back of your head, gripping your hair gently as he throws his head back, lost in the sensation—no matter how turned on he is, chuuya is always gentle with you. he’s never the type to push your head down—he always makes sure you're comfortable, no matter what.

you feel the way his hips twitch as you take him deeper, his tip repeatedly hitting the back of your throat, but the moment he hears you gag, he pulls away, “doll, you okay?”

you nod in response, and immediately take him back into your mouth, allowing him to slide deeper once more.

“haahh, so greedy f’me? mmnnghh”

you hollow your cheeks and move your mouth over him, sucking him with deliberate strokes. the wet sounds blending with his soft whimpers and mewls fill the room as you work him with your mouth. every time you take him in balls-deep, you can feel his cock twitching against your throat. you work your tongue around that sensitive spot just below his tip and precum oozes out, coating your tongue as you savor his taste

“yes fuck nngh, lookin’ ...haah s’fuckin’ pretty like that, baby...ffuckk,” he gasps, bucking his hips forward against your mouth. the sight of you—blindfolded, taking him so greedily—pushes him closer to the edge. his grip on your hair tightens a bit as he fights to maintain control, but the way your tongue swirls around him, the way your mouth swallows him whole has him thinking that he may just cum from feeling your warm mouth around him.

you hum around his cock, sending vibrations through his entire body, and he swears under his breath, his hips picking up the pace slightly. he’s lost in the pleasure, in the sight of you so lecherously sucking him like your life depends on it, and he knows he won’t last much longer like this.

but just as he nears his peak, he pulls out of your mouth, a shaky chuckle escaping his lips as he sees your pouting frustration. “..c’mon baby, i’m here to make you feel good,” he murmurs.

removing your blindfold with a tender touch, his eyes eager to drink in the sight of how fucked out you're going to be in a few minutes, “mhm, yes, lemme see those pretty eyes of yours.”

he then kneels in front of you, easing down your soft panties and gently placing your legs over his shoulders as you recline against the couch.

reaching for the cigarette still burning in the ashtray, he takes a slow drag before exhaling the smoke directly onto your gooey cunt.

“hahh- chuu” you mewl, the sensation of the hot smoke against your sensitive skin leaves you breathless, your body frozen in place as you experience one of the most intense pleasures you’ve ever felt.

he takes another drag, letting the smoky haze drift over your swollen lips before putting out the cigarette in the nearby ashtray. he lets out a shaky groan, watching you drip faster than ever, clenching around nothing.

he showers your inner thighs with hot open-mouthed kisses, each kiss eliciting soft, pleading mewls from your glossed lips. “you like that doll? hmm? lemme hear that sweet voice of yours.” he hums against your thighs, totally focused on blowing your mind with ecstasy.

“..yess..s’much mmph”

with a hungry growl, he finally delves into your cunt, kneading your soft thighs as his tongue drags and explores your wet folds opening them only to plunge his hot tongue inside earning a lewd moan from you, he swirls his tongue around your now swollen clit before dragging a flat strip along your inner folds, completely pussydrunk.

deep blue eyes that you grew to adore, never leave yours as he groans against your cunt sending waves of sparks dancing behind your eyes.

your mouth falls open in a silent moan, hands gripping the couch beneath you as you struggle to voice anything except moans and mewls, “y-yes... chuu i'm clo- ahhh mnghh” you gasp, but your voice falters as his tongue alternates between licking your clit in circular motions and diving into your drooling cunt as if stopping would cost him his life.

you roll your hips against his mouth feeling that familiar heat ignite in your belly, sweating from how long he's been eating you out hungrily, you finally reach your peak, gushing all over his tongue as he hums in satisfaction licking up every drop of you with eager licks.

“hnngh fuck..doll... this may be the hottest shit we've ever done,” he drawls, his eyes locked on you as you pant and giggle, trying to hide the blush spreading across your cheeks with your hands. he brushes your hands aside gently and leans in, kissing you passionately once again, tasting yourself on his tongue makes your heart flutter.

“uhh...will you help me out a bit?” he pulls away muttering, your eyes widen as you see how hard he is now, precum glistening at his flushed tip, veins pulsating, apparently he's been edging himself on purpose.

and of course, you’re more than willing to do so. this man never fails to satisfy you, always putting your pleasure above his own. despite his fearsome reputation as a mafia executive, with you, he’s nothing but the sweetest, most tender, and caring boyfriend imaginable.

TAGS: @a-smol-bean @violetfruity @amanoava @falloutjuli @embersweapons @warriordemigosworld @cathias @alyszuha @v15aexe @vasarii @pe4rl-diver @sukidenks @dazaifavbandage @chuuminn @fyodorsprettynun @ace-0fspades69 @irasamu @trippyserval @alyszuha @bittysuguro @writingandmusing

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weirdmarioenemies · 10 months ago

Text

Name: Baboom

Debut: Super Mario Bros. Wonder

Baboom is my number one favorite new enemy from Wonder! In the days after the game's release, I was extra careful during what felt like the eternity before I got to play it myself (it was a week at most.) to not spoil anything for myself, and I succeeded, mostly! Yippee! And while I was playing through the beginning of the game, at least three friends all individually told me there was one enemy that they felt I would absolutely love. And they were right!

Let me tell you. I gasped when I saw it. I gasped when I saw this little waddling plastic tube. You know me! I do things like that. Its pure white eyes. Its adorable little trot. Its use of primary colors like some kind of baby's toy. But don't give it to a baby! This is explosive! You also shouldn't give any living creature to a baby! Why would you do that? You should be giving it some mashed carrots instead.

Speaking of babies though, it is Baboom who is the baby here, because it is canonically the newest of the living bombs produced by Bowser's Minions! What a little darling! It may be a little unclear what exactly it does at first, but when attacked, Baboom will begin shooting fireworks directly upward, one for each body segment! This "uses up" each segment, including the last one, but they don't actually explode themselves. Do you think they can still live after this? A "spent" Baboom, a single red segment, living a peaceful life wherever it landed? That would be nice.

I hate fireworks. Far too loud and bright. But Baboom makes it fun! It can be carried, and its fireworks used as an upward attack, defeating enemies, breaking blocks, and making coins fall! It is so enriching to shoot upwards in a Mario game. These fireworks cannot hurt the player, which seems like a big problem for a weapon made to fight Mario. An enemy that defeats enemies, and does not hurt our heroes? My word! Can this be? The classic and beloved story trope of a weapon made for evil rebelling against the circumstances of its creation? Hooray! Who says Mario games don't have complex stories? Look at the motivation I personally ascribed to this one disposable bomb. What are the other enemies thinking at any given time? There's surely a stunning story in every Snortoise!

Wonder has all these cute little animations for enemies bumping into each other, and Babooms will do a little... nod? toward one another when they meet! It's hard to tell if it is a nod given its anatomy, but whatever it is, I think it is saying "hello my friend!"

I would be remiss to talk about Baboom without mentioning Kab-omb, the ORIGINAL firework Bob-omb variant! I like Baboom more, but I hold a lot of respect for Kab-omb. A bomb just looking for a kiss, or maybe a glass of chocolate milk with a bendy straw. Is that so wrong?

#baboom #super mario bros wonder #kab-omb #mario #mario enemies #mod chikako

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apricot-blossomss · 4 months ago

Note

On my knees begging for hermes x f reader

you ask and you shall receive...

☛ hermes way of flirting with you is stealing your shit

☛ sfw, fluff, minor goddess!fem!reader, reader is mentioned to be shorter than hermes

The moment you entered your quarters, you slumped into your favorite plushy armchair, placed your godly symbol on the floor next to it and breathed a sigh of relief. Some of these days kept you real busy, even though you were only a minor diety. The whole day you had been looking forward to letting yourself be consumed by the soft cushion and your novel- that you thought you had placed on the small table next to it.

Irritated, you sat up to make sure, but, clear as day, your book wasn't where you had left it. You checked the ground next to it and under the armchair but it wasn't to be found. Maybe you hadn't put it on the table after all? Though you thought you distinctly remembered doing that. But it wouldn't surprise you if your mind had been playing tricks on you again. Over the course of the last few months, you had managed to lose a bracelet, earrings, two books, a pillow, a hairbrush and several pens. though you weren't as willing to stock it up to your forgetfulness as you once were.

Case in point, your book wasn't in the shelf either and you begrudgingly settled for another one to snuggle into your armchair with. The crazy thing, you thought to yourself while opening the first page, was that some of the items had been in your bag or directly from your skin without you noticing losing them. If they really were just lost, some mortal woman was probably overjoyed with finding you divinely forged jewelry right now. But if this was some sort of trick... Hermes was the god of tricksters. Could it be...?

No. Why would Hermes have anything to do with this? You were only a minor goddess while he was one of the twelve olympians. Why would he be stealing from you? Still, you found it to be harder and harder to believe that you had misplaced all of these items.

With a sigh, you chose to postpone your speculation and concentrate on your novel. The day had worn you down, even gods could get exhausted. So it was no wonder you were slipping into peaceful stumbler only a few minutes after. Your book dropping to the ground didn't wake you, having fallen asleep in your comfortable armchair.

From the lights inside your quarters and the open windows, Hermes had concluded that you had to still be awake, making the thrill of snatching something else away straight from under your nose even more exciting. Giddily, he entered your living room through the window when his eyes fell on you, curled up in your armchair, an open book on the floor before it, sleeping peacefully.

Careful not to make a sound, he stalked over to you and looked down on your peaceful face. Every time you huffed out a breath, you made a cute little sighing sound and a loose strand of hair moved away from your mouth, only to settle back on your face when you breathed in. Bewitched by the enthralling sight, he couldn't do anything but look for a few seconds. Then, his eyes wandered to your godly symbol next to your seat. Your most priced possession. Was there anything better to steal to get your attention?

In under a minute, he had picked up your symbol, stored it in his pocket and pulled out a winged coin out of its depths that he carefully placed on your palm. Though you didn't wake up, you mumbled something incoherent in your sleep when his fingers closed yours around his coin. Your hands were warm, cute. Before he left the way he had come, he picked up a blanket off your couch and draped it on top of your sleeping form. Tucking you in, he laughed to himself when you gripped his coin tighter in your sleep and left through the window.

🪽

Enough was enough. This was the last straw.

When you had woken up this morning, ecstatic at the prospect of your free day and strangely warm given the fact that you didn't remember having a blanket the night before, your first instinct had been to pick up your godly symbol. But it was gone. And it was not to be found anywhere in the house. In its place, you only found a coin. A coin you very distinctly recognized.

So now here you were. In the divine gardens of a fellow god where you knew the object of your ire stopped everyday on his errands to steal himself some apples. A little nervous, you picked your fingernails. Without your godly symbol, you felt vulnerable, and your nerves weren't soothed by the fact that you were about to confront the thief, who just happened to be your long time crush.

But enough was enough. This wasn't just some playful prank anymore. The loss of your symbol directly impacted your godly duties. And he had been messing with you for far too long. You shouldn't be surprised- who but him could steal the earrings from your ears without you even noticing? What had you confused was- why? Hermes was known to steal to his hearts content from his fellow major gods, even their godly symbols, but you were a quite a few levels under that in terms of importance.

A rustling pulled you out of your contemplation and you quickly hid behind a tree. None other than the god of trickery lowered himself to the ground just a few feet from you, you could hear rustling when he searched the trees for ripe fruit.

"Eriounios!" you called him by his epithet, and he turned to you with feigned surprise when you emerged from behind the tree, hands on your hips and not at all dying inside from the sly smile he gave you.

He greeted you with your name and wiggled an apple in your direction. "Want one? I hear they are the most delicious on the whole of Olympus, so they must be almost as sweet as you, honey."

The pet name had your cheeks flaring up but you didn't budge. "No thank you. I am no thief." Since he made no effort to close the distance between you two, you did, until you were only about a foot apart. Hermes would never admit it, but he couldn't help but ogle your chest when your crossed your arms and glared up at him.

He smiled down at you calmly in return and took a bite out of his apple. "Shame." His flirtatious wink almost managed to distract you, but you stood your ground and contemplated how to approach the issue the best. It was no good to be overly angry, but it had to be firm.

"Give it back, Hermes."

"What are you talking about?" he munched innocently and twirled around the apple in his hand. But the way his eyes sparkled with a hidden amusement at your predicament, you knew this was his doing.

Your exasperated sigh only made his smile widen. "My godly symbol. You took it. Not only that, but you have been stealing from me for months now. I thought I was going crazy, but it was all you, wasn't it?" You realized you were rambling and raging and took a long breath to calm down. "Look, I get it, this is what you do, but you went too far with that last one. I need my godly symbol, can I please have it back? You can keep the rest."

"Hey, I don't know what or who took your symbol, but I had nothing to do with it," Hermes grinned and discarded the rest of the apple. "And I really have to get back to work now, honey, though I would love to continue this conversation another day-"

Before he could run, you grabbed his arm and stood on your toes to face him. Still, he loomed over you and if the teasing look on his face was any indication, he found your efforts to be more cute than anything. "Quit playing. Please," you huffed in frustration and poked his chest with your index finger. "I know that it was you who took them, where are they?"

"You look very pretty when you're angry," Hermes flirted, but you didn't let yourself be softened by his charming words. You were about to throw another plea at him, or a threat, or a demand, when the trickster god gently took your wrist and leaned close to you. "Alright, if you can solve this riddle, I miiight give you a hint."

"No riddles," you retorted, not quite sure where you found the courage to talk to a major olympian god like this. "No games."

"Just one?" Since he didn't budge, you gave him a reluctant nod but freed your wrist to cross your arms once more.

He leaned down regardless, until his mouth was brushing your ear, as if he was telling you a secret. "It holds your power, strong and bright, But in my hands, it’s out of sight. Return it I might, if you can guess, Where does it rest? Take a wild guess!"

"So you do have it!" you exclaimed, pointing an accusing finger at his self satisfied face. "Where is it?"

"Well, that's the riddle, isn't it?" he smiled teasingly.

"And the rest, that was you, too?" you asked.

"Ah, alright, yes, that was me, honey," he admitted, shrugging. "I must say, no offense, but you were quite easy to steal from. Or were you just so taken with me that you didn't see what my hands were doing?" Your face was burning, but he wasn't done. Out of his bag, he pulled your godly symbol and let it dangle in front of your face. "But alas, you managed to catch the thief."

Suddenly, you realized something and smiled up at him. "Only because he wanted to be caught, I fear. You left this." You showed him his coin. "Now, why would you do that?"

"Every master has a slip up from time to time," he answered suspiciously nonchalantly and held out your symbol for you to take. "Here you go, honey. I promise not to take it again- at least for a while."

You took it and frowned at him. "You gave me a scare. I thought I was going mad, you know?"

"Ah, sorry," he replied and it sounded surprisingly earnest. "I didn't do it to upset you, you know? 'Was just enjoying your attention, I guess." You were surprised to find his cheeks somewhat rosy. Was he... blushing? No way. That was your job. But there was a hint of sincerity in his voice when he draped an arm around your shoulders and teased: "And I do enjoy seeing you get this flustered. You are always so put-together."

"And... this was your way of getting my attention," you deadpanned. "Could've just asked me out." That last part was mumbled, actually just to yourself, but he caught up on it and gave you a look of surprise.

"Would you have said yes?"

"Yes," you answered way to quickly and averted your face in embarrassment. "Ah, anyway, here's your coin, I'll be leaving you to your work now."

"Keep it," he said softly, taking your outstretched hand and closing your fingers around the coin. His touch sent tingles up your spine, and as if he knew, he gave you another teasing smile. "You know, the apples here land in that one cafe's apple tarts. Rumor has it they are delicious."

"Sounds good," you answer breathlessly, resisting the urge to chew on the inside of your cheek to relieve stress. Hermes himself was asking you out. Gods, this was the best day of your life, and it had started out so bad! Though, when you now thought about it, the theft wasn't so bad, now that you would be going on a date with the thief.

"Expect the rest of your stuff in the mail," Hermes said and if you weren't mistaken, his smile was even brighter than before. "Along with the table reservations."

"Alright," you smiled, cheekbones aching in the best way. There was a noticeable pep in your step when you turned to leave, one that didn't go unnoticed by the other god. You couldn't help but turn around one more time and your heart fluttered when you found him already looking at you. He waved, and that was when you noticed something shiny wrapped around his fingers. Your hand shot up to your neck, but it was gone. Your necklace.

Instead of going back to get it, you only smiled and shook your head at his triumphant grin. You saw him take off and then, you were alone, admits the apple trees, with a sweet fuzzy feeling in your tummy, and your heart stolen by the best of all thieves.

#greek mythology #greek gods #greek gods x reader #greek mythology x reader #hermes x reader #hermes #hermes x you #hermes fluff #fluff #greek mythology fluff

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ceoofglytchell · 1 day ago

Text

A safe bet

Summary: During a night out with his friends, Aegon drunkenly makes a bet with one of them that he can charm a woman without even needing to bed her- he set his sights on you, a merchant’s daughter with a heart of gold. The only problem? You are not going to give in to his charms so easily. Pairing: Aegon II Targaryen x merchant’s daughter!Reader Word count: 8596 words Warnings: mdni, no descriptions for the Reader except that you are female and have longer hair, manipulation, canon typical misogyny, aegon is an ass at first, slight angst, aeg being a pervert, suggestive thoughts, infidelity, masturbation, oral sex (m receiving), no mention of Y/N  Notes: Likes and reblogs are always appreciated. Enjoy 💛

⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅∙∘☽༓☾∘∙•⋅⋅⋅•⋅⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅

The air was heavy with the smell of roasted meat and stale beer, the floor was slippery with spilled beer and old straw. The clatter of wooden mugs and the quiet murmur of voices was mixed with occasional laughter, the clinking of coins and the creaking of the inn door opening.

At the very back, in one of the furthest corners of the tavern, sat Aegon of House Targaryen with three of his friends, Leon, Eddard and Martyn. All of them were drunk and the ones who slurred the loudest in the vast interior of the building and shouted something to each other, even though they were sitting right next to each other. On the wooden table where they had sat down a few hours ago, there were a few empty vessels that had once held the sweet wine from the Arbor, and their cups were all almost empty again.

One of them, Martyn, let his partially blurred gaze wander around the rooms until they landed on a couple who were simply talking. No inappropriate touching of any kind, no heated or sweet kisses, nothing. When was the last time either of them had such a connection?

His gaze wandered to Aegon, the prince he was friends with, and he noticed how he was simply staring into his cup. His loud laughter from earlier had died down. He deserved some good female company. But under one condition.

The redhead leaned forward and tugged on the black sleeve of his tunic. He might be a prince, but whenever he went out with them into the streets of King's Landing, he wore the clothes of the common people to blend in better with the crowd and of course to avoid being recognized. Silver hair quickly gives away any Targaryen.

"What?" grumbled Aegon, looking over the rim of his cup, which had now been emptied for the sixth time. He was drunk, but not enough to forget his inner loneliness. All the feelings that were building up inside him. He hated it to death.

"Let's make a bet," suggested the heir to House Reyne, whereupon the other two men at the table tapped the wood in agreement. The evening had just become boring.

"What kind of bet are you talking about?" asked the silver-haired man, leaning back comfortably in his seat. Bets could be fun, meanwhile. He had more than enough gold and he was open to anything that didn't remind him of the duties that weighed on his shoulders and were slowly but surely crushing him under their weight.

"One of the fun nature," Martyn replied with an almost triumphant grin on his lips, as if he had already won the bet without even revealing what he had in mind.

"I am all ears," the prince replied, and indeed he was interested in whatever the man had in his mind and what he would offer him. After all, every good bet came with a price.

"You always tell us that there is no woman you cannot charm, no lady who cannot resist your advances..."

Aegon nodded, actually feeling a little pride growing inside him. It was true that whenever he set his eyes on a pretty lady, he usually got her, but he had half of that to his incredible talent for dexterity, his gold, and his cock.

"But I was wondering how a lovely maiden would react to you if you weren't allowed to lay a hand on her?" Martyn finally finished with a grin.

The prince leaned back in his seat, licking his lips. Whatever bet his friend had thought of, it didn't seem to be as fun as he had hoped. Well, for him at least.

"You want me to seduce a woman, but without touching her?"

"Exactly! You are not allowed to touch, kiss or fuck her. Show us how talented you really are, your highness," the redhead explained, while Leon elbowed him in the side, laughing, satisfied with the idea his friend had thought up while they were drinking.

"You would have a week and could choose the girl freely. On the last day we will meet here again and you will introduce us to your new sweetheart. Let's see, maybe you will keep the sweet dove this time too!"

He rolled his eyes and sighed once, but even though he was pretending to find this bet annoying, he found the premise exciting. He had never tried it before and he wanted to know if he could do it. But what if he couldn't? He hated rejection, even if this woman would be nothing more than a bet for him. Nothing more, nothing less.

"Fine, but next week it's your turn," grumbled the prince before he got up from their table, snatching his cup in his hand.

Aegon walked through the tavern with a sharp eye, looking for a pretty lady who he was willing to not leave behind after one night. He would have to make an effort with her.

His violet eyes briefly fell on a waitress, but she was missing that certain something. He was looking for a spark, a glitter, something that would attract him like a moth to a flame. For a moment he wasn't sure if he would find it, but then his eyes fell on... you.

You were alone in a small alcove in a dark corner of the tavern and looked down at the table where a piece of paper lay with writing on it, but he couldn't quite make out what it was written about. You seemed to be one of the well-read types, but at the same time you had a face that reminded him of a statue. Beautiful and elegant.

With a flame of determination shining in his eyes, he approached you, rocking slightly on his feet.

He hadn't even spoken to you yet, but his choice had already been made. You were the right one.

He plopped down on the seat opposite you without announcing himself or asking, a smug grin on his lips. You looked up at him with wide, surprised eyes and in that moment he was already sure that he wouldn't need the whole week. If he was lucky, you would be his by the end of the night.

"Can I help you?" you asked him in such a gentle voice that it felt like a warm blanket was being draped around his shoulders.

You were perfect.

"Tell me, what is such a pretty dove like you doing alone in a place like this on a night like today?" asked the silver-haired prince without answering your question. He was now a man on a mission.

You blinked, your eyelashes repeatedly touching the soft skin of your cheeks, which were slightly flushed. He wasn't sure if they had already taken on a pink tone before or if he was the cause. He liked the latter thought more.

"I am enjoying myself," you answered him after a brief moment of awkward silence. In the darkness of the tavern and the fact that he had pulled a hood over his face, you could hardly see what was underneath. But his eyes... either the flickering candle on the table deceived your vision or he had purple eyes.

Either this man was a dragon seed or an actual member of House Targaryen.

With a small chuckle, he leaned forward and snatched the piece of paper you had been reading up to that point: "That doesn't look like much amusement to me."

Aegon ran his eyes over the curved writing, but he didn't understand much of it. It seemed to be about money.

"Are you a whore?" he asked you, whereupon your eyes widened and you immediately snatched the page from his hands.

How dare he? Even your shoulders were covered and he called you a whore? Outrageous.

"What are you thinking? My father is a merchant. He can't read. I help him keep track of things," you explained to him as you tucked the page into the pocket of your coat, which was lying on the wooden bench next to you. It was warm enough inside that you could sit there in your long-sleeved dress.

"Huh..." He leaned back, running his thumb over the edge of his empty mug. Your helpfulness might come in handy at some point. "Does he not have a son?"

A sigh escaped you and you folded your arms over your chest as you eyed him critically. "If I had a brother, he would help him, right?"

He raised his hands in defeat to show you that he understood. Maybe you weren't as naive as he had thought at the beginning. But he actually liked that fact better. You had bite.

"Are you married?" he asked then, unable to contain his curiosity.

In response, you simply stretched out your delicate hands and laid them flat on the table in front of him. Not a single ring adorned your slender fingers. You were still unmarried. Perfect.

"And I assume you're not promised either, otherwise you would never be sitting here alone reading some junk," said the king's firstborn son with a triumphant glow in his eyes.

With every second that passed, however, you were losing patience with this man whose name you didn't even know. A part of you was curious and wanted to know more about him, but the far more rational part of you simply urged you to stand and walk away.

“Why do you care, my Lord?” you asked him with a long sigh.

“What makes you think I’m a Lord?”

You smiled at him and in that moment he could feel two things: firstly, how his heart contracted unpleasantly and secondly, how something stirred in his breeches. You were not only beautiful, but your clever and bold manner also attracted him, excited him.

“You try to hide it, but it’s there. I can see it in your eyes. Common eyes don’t lose their shine so quickly,” you answered thoughtfully and he immediately recognized something he could start with.

He cleared his throat: “No, you’re right. I am a Lord. A prince, even, if you want to know for sure. And one who offers you his company.”

A small giggle escaped your rosy lips and he watched you as you rose from the table and looked at him with a playful twinkle in your eyes.

“Perhaps another time, Your Highness,” you said and gave him a deep bow before walking past the table out of the tavern, your hips gently swinging left and right.

From the side he heard Martyn, Leon and Eddard laughing loudly as he leaned back in his seat and stroked his crotch, which pressed uncomfortably against the dark fabric of his trousers.

He wanted you. He had to have you.

That night he fucked a girl in one of the many brothels on the Street of Silk who vaguely reminded him of you. She had the same hair that his soft, smooth skin and he was sure your cunt must be just as tight.

The next evening, he hoped to find you in the tavern again, but you weren't there. Why would you? You didn't seem to be a drunkard, nor were you a whore.

He walked over to the bar and leaned against the wooden counter, wondering whether to order Arbor Red or a Dornish wine. But suddenly an idea struck him.

He waved the bartender over to him. "The woman who was sitting at the table in the corner yesterday. Do you know her?"

The older man raised one of his eyebrows. There was something in his eyes. Something that let him know that he actually knew you. Wonderful.

"I know her father. Kind girl. A rare beauty. What do you want from her?" the man asked him, raising an eyebrow.

"That's none of your business. Do you know where she might be? It's of great urgency."

The older man laughed softly before shaking his head. "Take a look at the market. Maybe you'll find her there."

The young prince nodded, turned around and hurried out of the tavern. He had six days left to seduce you and after those six days he would show you exactly what it meant to enjoy his company.

Even at this late hour the market square was full and all kinds of figures were rushing around. Loud music was playing, laughter echoed through the darkness and in some alleys lovers or lustful people had retreated to show each other passion. This was where Aegon felt at home. All these people were free and could do whatever they wanted. It was pure freedom.

And then he saw you. You were standing next to a few other women and seemed to be gossiping happily. The dress you were wearing revealed your shoulders and collarbone and he longed to see what was still hidden under the fabric.

One of your friends elbowed you in the side and when you looked to the side you saw him again. The prince. Prince Aegon, as you found out. You had given his description to a lady from the Street of Silk and she had been able to answer immediately.

"Is that him?" one of your friends, Eryn, asked you with a mischievous grin. She was already married and often and happily told you about her and her husband's bed stories. She just wanted you to be happy.

"Who?" you asked instead, looking at the goods on the stand you were standing at. Treasures and carvings from Essos.

"Your secret admirer!" she whispered excitedly, while you just rolled your eyes.

"He is not my secret admirer. He is the prince. And the one who, if I may say, is known for having slept with every whore in King's Landing," you replied instead.

"Shhhh, he's coming!"

The other women moved away a little as Aegon approached you with a grin on his face. He already seemed confident of victory, but you wouldn't give in so easily. Not to someone like him. After all, you now knew exactly who he was.

"Good evening, dove," he greeted you confidently.

"Your Grace," you answered instead playfully and perhaps with a small hint of annoyance in your otherwise melodic voice.

"You were not at our table."

You immediately raised your eyebrows and your expression changed to amusement. "Our table?"

Aegon nodded his head in confirmation: "Yes, in the tavern. In the corner."

You had to hold back from rolling your eyes. You knew very well which table he meant, but you hadn't known that it was your table. This was new and you didn't know how to feel about it.

"Why are you here, Prince Aegon?" you asked him, explicitly mentioning his name so that he would know that you knew exactly who he was. That and so much more.

A small, almost flattering smile played around the corners of his mouth at your question. He seemed to like the fact that you had apparently asked about him. The thought alone made him feel warm and tingly.

"I wanted to see you," he replied with a shrug, letting his eyes roam over your features.

"You wanted... to see me?" you asked inside as you walked a few steps further, letting your hand run over some fabrics. They had probably been imported from Lys by traders. If you were richer, you would only wear such beautiful fabrics. So you couldn't understand why he, a prince, was walking around voluntarily as if he were a commoner from Flea Bottom.

"Yes," he answered you without hesitation, "I offered you my company and you said you would accept it on another day. Today is a beautiful evening, don't you think?"

A small sigh escaped you again and you couldn't help but let a small smile play around the corners of your mouth. He was amusing, you had to give him that. Amusing and persistent.

"And what do you intend to do, Your Highness? I would certainly be the ugly duckling at a ball," you said, putting your hands on your hips.

You wouldn't be. He quickly bit his tongue to stop these words from escaping. Even in your current, rather simple and partly time-worn dress, you would be a lot more beautiful than most of the ladies at court. And you were free. A luxury he always longed to have. Slowly he began to understand that he not only desired you, but also the life you led.

You symbolized his hopes and dreams.

"I don't know. We could go for a drink? Maybe our table is still free?" he suggested with a mischievous smile on his lips.

A few meters away from you, you heard your friends giggling, and when you looked over at them, you saw them nodding happily at you. This fact alone made you want to reject him even more. It wouldn't be wrong to make him wait a little, would it?

"Forgive me, my prince, but I just remembered that my father still needs my help," you said quickly. A lie.

"Now?" Aegon asked, his eyebrows drawn together in confusion.

"Now," you clarified and walked straight past him, your shoulders brushing slightly. You were about to disappear behind another market stall when you suddenly felt him grab your wrist to stop you. His fingers were warm and his skin surprisingly soft. You wondered if he had ever held a sword in his life.

"Wait... Please," he said quietly and the look in his amethyst colored eyes, so pleading and almost vulnerable, made you want to listen to him instead of tearing yourself away from him.

"Yes? What is it?" you asked, the words coming out a little harsher than you actually intended.

"Where will I find you tomorrow? Please?"

Your shoulders relaxed and you gave him a gentle smile, which hopefully had a calming effect on him. You didn't want to scare him away. Somehow you liked him and these conversations, even though you knew who he was and where he was supposed to be right now.

"The southern side of the Kingswood. We will go for a walk together," you answered him before you freed your wrist from his grip and turned around and disappeared into the crowd of people.

Aegon Targaryen, the second of his name, looked after you with a longing look and he swore to himself that at the end of the seven days he would not only have won the bet, but also gained your genuine affection.

The summer sun shone warmly on your face as you sat on a fallen tree trunk at the edge of the forest, waiting for the prince who wouldn't leave you alone. You wore a slightly looser dress, which gave you plenty of freedom of movement, and a cloak over it. You also had a bag slung over your shoulder with some food you could eat. A few apples, grapes and bread with some cheese. It would have to be enough.

He appeared as the morning sun turned to midday sun and you began to wonder if he had gotten lost. He hadn't. Aegon had stolen a horse from the royal stables and ridden the distance to the forest and the place you had told him. It was more comfortable for him than walking and maybe you would allow him to take you home later.

You looked up in surprise when you heard the sound of galloping hooves approaching the edge of the forest. A brown horse came to a stop not far from you and its rider jumped from the saddle with a wide grin on his face.

Aegon wore a blue tunic, black trousers and a black cloak that he left open. His boots came just below his knees and his silver hair was ruffled by the wind.

He looked good. Quite good.

"My lady!" he called happily as he landed on the sandy ground of the forest path and joined you.

"I remind you, my prince, I am not a lady. I am simply a woman you find pleasing," you reminded him with a smile as you stood up from the tree trunk and walked over to him.

"Guilty. How are you today?" he asked you and this time it was not just to be polite. He actually cared about your well-being.

"Quite well. And you?"

"I have never been better," he said with a grin before he gently took you by the elbow and led you into the forest.

All around you you could hear the chirping of birds, the rustling of leaves, cracking branches and in the distance the sound of a stream. The atmosphere was beautiful and calming at the same time and surprisingly peaceful with him by your side. You hadn't expected that. You were pleasantly surprised.

"What do you have in here?" he asked himself and touched the brown bag that was hanging around your shoulder. His curiosity was contagious and you began to enjoy his company.

"Something to eat. In case we get hungry," you explained with a smile on your lips. In the hustle and bustle of the city everything was always so tense and loud, but here in the wilderness around the city she could enjoy the peace and quiet.

"You are too kind," he said and reached into the bag, where he pulled out a ripe apple and immediately bit into it, the juice of the fruit running down the corners of his mouth.

A small smile formed on your lips and you couldn't help but shake your head in amusement. The prince was incorrigible and you enjoyed it very much. A small part of you hoped that he enjoyed your presence too.

"You like apples, I assume?" you asked him as you looked over at him and saw that he was munching on a piece of apple with relish.

Aegon grinned and looked over at you, and you could see a small blush on his pale face: "I like anything sweet."

He seemed particularly proud of that comment. You, however, rolled your eyes exaggeratedly and jabbed your arm into his side, causing him to gasp loudly and drop the rest of his apple to the ground.

"Hey! Unfair!" he shouted angrily, causing you to let out a hearty laugh.

The two of you continued walking for a while until you reached a river. The water was clear and, compared to the warm air that surrounded you, it seemed cool and soothing. The prince rummaged through your bag while you gently stroked the water with one hand.

What you didn't know, however, was that Aegon's violet eyes followed your gentle movement the entire time. A lump formed in his throat as he understood that the sight of your delicate hands made his body warmer and his imagination imagined how a touch of yours would feel on his body. But he couldn't do it. He had a bet to lose and you would probably never let him touch you. Not yet.

But of course you would notice sooner or later.

"You're staring," you simply commented, making the future king flinch slightly and immediately clear his throat.

A small part of him wanted to deny it and tell you instead that he was looking at the river, but at the same time he still had a mission and a personal desire to have you.

"How could I not? Your beauty is breathtaking," Aegon answered you after a moment and even though it sounded like mere seduction, it was much more than that. It was the truth. You were beautiful.

You blinked in surprise and for a moment you didn't know what to say to him. It was a compliment, yes, but was it serious? You couldn't have known.

"Thank you, my prince. I'm honored," you said quietly, wiping your hands on the skirt of your dress.

"I'm serious, you know. My reputation precedes me, but I actually think you're beautiful, my lady. A silver swan in a pond full of ducks."

Your cheeks flushed and you looked back at the water, hoping he wouldn't see. Apparently he still had the talent to be charming and it actually worked. He managed to make you blush.

"Stop," you whispered under your breath, more to yourself and your own body than to him, who was sitting not far away from you.

A quiet chuckle escaped the king's eldest son and he shook his head gently, the silver strands of his hair falling over his face, as they often did. He didn't comb it too often. If he did, it was before big feasts or when his mother demanded it with a slap on his cheek.

"Never, darling. Making you blush is all I want," he said, grinning.

A sigh escaped you and you stood up from your place by the river and offered him your hand. "We should slowly return, Your Highness. My father still needs me and I think that the Red Keep is missing a certain person."

Aegon looked at you with wide eyes for a moment before he took your hand and slowly stood up too. The feeling of holding your delicate hand in his almost drove him mad and he had to hold himself back from pulling you against him and kissing you like there was no tomorrow.

You were driving him crazy.

"Fine, we'll go back. Or- I have a horse? I could take you home?" he offered, handing you your bag, which was only half full anymore.

You smiled and slung the brown leather bag back over your shoulder. "You just want to know where exactly in the city I live."

Still holding your hand in his, he led you to the exit of the forest, where his horse was still waiting for him, eating some of the grass that grew on the ground.

"Perhaps," he replied as he took the reins and watched you climb into the saddle without help and look down at him with a playful gleam in your eyes.

He swung himself onto the saddle of the brown horse behind you without further ado and wrapped his arms around your waist, humming softly as he felt the warmth of your body against his own. He would have to concentrate not to get hard now. However, his body had always been full of pleasure and reacted to the smallest of movements. And you... you were something very special.

You leaned your back against his chest and allowed yourself to relax as you rode back to King's Landing together.

Nature passed by you and the gates of the capital of the Seven Kingdoms came ever closer. It seemed as if the sky was instinctively darkening and as if everything was immediately becoming more dreary and desolate. The small folk in the market and on the dirty streets looked up in confusion or jumped aside as a horse suddenly galloped past them, carrying a Targaryen and a woman.

"Right up here, my prince," you said, pointing to the wooden front door of a small and nondescript house. The only thing that set it apart from the others were the plants on the windowsills. A work of yours to make the sight less desolate.

Aegon brought the horse to a stop and you slid gracefully from the saddle, but before you rushed straight into the house to see how your father was doing, you looked back at him one more time.

The way he sat on the horse and looked down at you as if you were a star in the evening sky, you realized that he must be serious about you. If he looked at every whore like that, then every one of them must think that she was loved by a prince.

"Good day... Aegon," you said before finally turning around and disappearing into the pleasant interior of your house.

And Aegon? He sighed and rode to the tavern where you first met, where he got drunk to the point of unconsciousness.

The next morning, you were woken up by the sound of someone knocking on the door of your room. Sleepy, with disheveled hair and wearing only your nightgown, you opened the door and your father stood in front of you. He was already dressed as if he was ready to go to his market stall, but it was much too early for that. The sun had not even come out over Visenya's hill yet.

"Father?" you asked sleepily, wiping the sleep from your eyes.

"There is someone here for you," he said, nodding towards the front door.

Confused and still not fully conscious because you had been sleeping so peacefully, you went to the front door and opened it. Your eyes widened when Aegon stood in front of you, but this time not in dirty clothes so as not to attract attention, but in a beautiful green doublet and a gold chain that fell around his neck. His silver hair was brushed and he had a bag at his side.

"Aegon? It's still early," you said, smiling gently at him.

"I brought you something," he said bluntly, handing you the bag.

Confused, you took it and looked inside, and what you saw made you look at him with wide eyes. In the brown bag was a beautifully embroidered green dress with some gold details on the sleeves, neckline and waist. It was more beautiful than anything you had seen at the market before, and the fabric was one of the velvety Lys fabrics you loved so much.

"My prince, I... I don't know what to say," you told him, resisting the urge to jump into his arms and press a kiss to his cheek.

"You can thank me by getting ready and coming with me now," he replied, looking at you with an amused twinkle in his purple eyes, which seemed darker than they actually were in the dim morning light.

"What are you planning?" you asked him, suddenly wide awake.

"You are a Lady today and you are accompanying me back to the Red Keep. I would like to show you around."

You nodded your head and hurried back inside, where you cleaned yourself as quickly as you could, got dressed, and tied your hair into a braid. You then hurried back to him and the moment you opened the door, Aegon knew he would never be able to look at his sister-wife again knowing that a woman like you existed.

He wanted you. If he didn't know better, he would actually say that you could have been a lady of the House of Tyrell. You were a sight of true beauty and grace.

"May I?" he asked with a mischievous smile on his lips before bowing slightly and holding out a hand to you.

"Why so polite, Your Grace?" you asked him with a grin as you took his hand in yours and allowed him to lead you back to his horse.

Still smiling, he placed his hands on your hips and lifted you effortlessly onto the horse's saddle before climbing behind you. "Believe it or not, I have manners."

"Oh, really?"

He shook his head and kicked the brown horse in the sides with his heel so that the horse would immediately ride off. Like the day before, you rode through the streets together, but this time you didn't stop in the dirty streets of the Small Folk, but in the courtyard of the Red Keep.

Knights, lords and ladies looked up in surprise when the usually drunk and lustful prince returned accompanied by a fine lady. None of them knew you, but at the same time none of them suspected who you really were. Your disguise was perfect.

He showed you the stables, the training yard where his younger brother Aemond was training with a Dornish-looking man, the throne room and then he led you to the kitchens, where with your help he stole a few pieces of lemon cake, which you ate together in the shade of a tree with red leaves.

You had never seen Aegon laugh so freely and carefree when a leaf fell and got tangled in your hair or you noticed that you had been crumbling on your lap the whole time.

The sun shone on your faces and it felt peaceful.

At one point he moved closer to you and reached out his hand to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear. You instinctively leaned into his touch and in that moment you too realized that he was no longer annoying you, that you wanted to be close to him and that he had the most beautiful eyes you had ever seen.

You were in love. And with a prince from the House of Targaryen of all people.

"If you could go anywhere, anywhere you like, where would you go?" Aegon asked you while his head rested on your lap and he looked up at you with curious eyes.

Your fingers gently stroked his locks while you held a flower to your nose with your other hand. It smelled sweet and, for some reason, healthier than the plants you collected to decorate your house.

"I don't know. I actually like the Keep. It seems peaceful here," you answer him with a quiet sigh.

"If only you knew," the prince replied and closed his eyes, enjoying your touch on his hair. The court was certainly not peaceful. It was dangerous, full of intrigue and deadly. You shouldn't be in such a place. Only with him. He would be able to protect you. Somehow.

"And you? Where would you go?" you asked him after a moment of silence.

"Essos. It's far from here and very different," he answered you without hesitation. He seemed to have thought about it many times.

"And what would you be there if not the Prince of Westeros?" you asked him with a hint of curiosity in your otherwise gentle tone.

Aegon shrugged. He wasn't quite sure. He often dreamed of running away and being free, but he never thought about what he would actually do if he managed to do it.

"I don't know exactly. I would just be free,” he finally answered you and you could tell from the look on his face that he was telling the truth. Besides, he had no reason to lie to you anymore.

“You could work in a tavern and serve people wine?” you suggested.

A grin formed on his lips: “But only if I can pour myself a cup too.”

You couldn’t help but giggle and gently tucked a strand of hair behind his ear. You liked him a lot when he was like that. Not arrogant, stuck up or about to seduce you. You liked him when he was himself.

“I don’t think that would be a problem,” you replied after a moment.

The look in his eyes softened and he carefully reached for your hand and brought it to his lips, where he left a small kiss on the back of your hand before resting his cheek against your palm. Your heart leapt in your chest and you knew you could no longer lie to yourself.

With every moment that passed, with every gesture he made for you, you fell a little more in love with the prince.

And he fell in love with you too.

Day five started out normally for you. You walked through the market square with your friends, wearing one of your old dresses, because out here you were nothing more than a merchant's daughter. You were not the lady he wanted to make you into, even though you enjoyed it. Very much.

You hadn't decided on a place where you would meet today, if you met again, but you were also aware that he knew exactly where you lived, and there was still your table in the back corner of the tavern. That was your place.

You were just turning a street corner with your friend when you suddenly felt a tingling sensation in the back of your neck. It felt like there was something - or someone - here that seemed familiar.

"Hey, are you coming?" Seryne asked you, smiling gently at you, but you just shook your head.

"I have something to do," you lied, because you wanted to find out why you suddenly felt so strange. What was that feeling?

"Fine, but I'll see you later, yes?" And with that, the woman turned around and disappeared into the crowd and you stood alone in the middle of Flea Bottom. A place where no woman should stay alone for long.

You followed your intuition and walked down a street. To the left and right sat young men and young women, dirty and barely dressed. Some of them were scratching their heads or their arms, which was an obvious sign that the name of this place lived up to. Most of them were sick and you could be thankful that you did not have to suffer such a fate.

And then suddenly you saw it - a dark cloak with a light pattern at the bottom. The person had pulled a hood over his head, but the way he walked seemed familiar to you.

But what could the prince want here now? And especially in such a place?

Out of curiosity you followed him and you were shocked when you suddenly saw more and more naked women, lustfully pressing themselves against men and whispering filthy promises in their ears. Some paid, others simply dragged the women with them.

You were in the Street of Silk. And Aegon was here too.

At your father's request you had always avoided this place as if it were the Seven Hells themselves, but now you could not help it. You had to know if this familiar figure was really your prince and, above all, what he was doing here.

The streets became more crowded the further you walked, but you could not stop, nor could you just turn around and forget about this. You would bring it up next time anyway. Or maybe not.

You quickened your pace as best you could and could see out of the corner of your eye how the person disappeared behind a wooden door - a brothel.

You couldn't blame him. You knew his nature and even if he tried to be gentler with you, he was a man and men have desires. However, your curiosity didn't go away. You wanted to know more. You wanted to know what kind of girls he surrounded himself with and what exactly he would do.

You just had to know.

With a lump in your throat and sweaty palms, you knocked on the wooden door of the brothel until a slightly older woman with brown hair and a sleazy smile opened it for you.

"How can I help you, my lady?" the woman asked you as she leaned her side against the door frame. You felt small and weak under her gaze.

"I- I would like to spend some time in your establishment," you answered her as confidently as possible in this situation.

A small laugh escaped the woman, who was obviously the madam of this house, and she took a step to the side so that you could enter.

"Of course. Have fun, little flower."

You cleared your throat and quickly walked past her into the interior of the brothel and immediately it seemed to you as if you had entered another world.

Music echoed through the oppressively warm air and a wave of smells suddenly overcame you. Fragrant oils, alcohol, sweat and sex. You also heard noises from every corner that made you blush immediately. Moaning, whimpering and sometimes a scream when someone reached their climax.

You shouldn't be here.

But you couldn't help but wonder if Aegon was behind one of the silk privacy curtains and one of the girls was between his legs at this very moment, satisfying him in a way you hadn't dared to think about until now. Or maybe the whore was sitting on his lap? Or maybe she was lying on the bed and he was right behind her and-

A drunk man stumbled past you and you quickly took a few steps further into the room, the feeling of being overwhelmed growing inside you. At the same time, you felt your insides getting warmer and warmer. All the noises and the bare skin had an effect on you.

You walked quickly until you suddenly heard something that made you freeze.

Your name.

A voice moaned your name and whimpered softly. It could be none other than the prince you had fallen in love with over the last few days, and now he was moaning your name in the middle of a brothel.

You knew you should turn around and leave immediately, but your curiosity got the better of you. Your curiosity and the surging feeling of lust inside you.

"Oh gods... fuck yes, don't stop," you heard Aegon's voice say in a tone that made you instinctively bite your lower lip. His voice was rough and deep and his breathing was coming in quick gasps.

Slowly and carefully you approached the curtain and you could already make out a vague silhouette.

He moaned your name again, this time a little louder, and you could no longer hold back.

With a jerk you pulled the silk fabric aside and looked at a scene you had already dreamed of, but you had always been in the whore's place.

Aegon was lying on his back on the bed. His silver hair was disheveled, small beads of sweat rolled down his forehead, his eyes were half closed and he was breathing heavily through his mouth. He was still wearing all his clothes, but his breeches were open and between his legs knelt a young woman who bore an astonishingly great resemblance to you. She moved her head up and down, her cheeks hollowing out so she could take him deeper.

Every now and then you caught a glimpse of his cock, and the sight alone made your knees go weak. It was long and thick, and you wanted to close your lips around his shaft and do the same as this woman.

"Oh yes... just like that," he moaned under his breath, reaching for the woman's long hair to keep her in place.

You gripped the fabric of the curtain tighter, and the rustling finally gave you away.

Aegon looked up, and the moment his purple eyes found yours, he began to move his hips back and forth demandingly, never looking away from you.

The woman protested, but the prince did not let go. His moans grew louder, and his pale cheeks grew redder.

"How beautiful you are. Seven hells, I need you. I need to be inside you,” he moaned, which made you whimper in return. You pressed your thighs together and tried to relieve yourself somehow.

And then suddenly with a deep grunt he unloaded himself into the whore’s mouth, while his whole body trembled and she swallowed his seed.

The prince let her go, whereupon the whore winked at him, stood up and left the small alcove, deliberately bumping into your shoulder.

You, on the other hand, were still standing motionless next to the curtain that you were still holding. It burned between your thighs and you couldn't help but stare at his now flaccid member. You wanted to take him in your mouth too.

"Dove... I can explain," he began hesitantly, still breathing quickly and in gasps as he put his cock back in his pants, but left them open for now.

"You don't have to," you replied quickly, your voice coming out weaker than usual, "You have desire. That's normal."

A grin spread across his face, but strangely enough he made no move to get up and pull you towards him. You knew now that he found you physically attractive and that he wanted you, but he didn't take you, even though you too felt a burning desire to be turned onto your back by him at that moment.

"And you? What do you feel?" he asked you and you could swear that there was something vulnerable in his eyes.

"I don't know," you answered him, even though you knew exactly how you felt about him. You loved him and you wanted him. But not like that.

"Really?" Aegon questioned, leaning up on his elbows.

"I want you, Aegon. But not like that. Not in a place like this."

The prince sat up abruptly and looked at you with big, hopeful eyes. "Please... darling, I want you too. I need you. I love-"

Your eyes grew wide and his cheeks turned even redder than before. For a moment, it felt like the world had stopped and you were the only two people left in all of King's Landing.

"I love you," he finally said and you could feel your heart leap in your chest. It was like in your dreams.

He loved you. And you could see in his eyes that he was telling the truth. But what would you say to him now?

"I... I shouldn't have come here," you said instead before turning around and hurrying out of the brothel as fast as you could.

You could hear him calling your name, but you ran out of the establishment and up the street to your house. Part of you hoped he would follow you, but the rational part of you also knew that it wouldn't change this moment. You still wouldn't open the door.

That evening, you lay in your bed wearing only your nightgown. You had pulled the white fabric over your hips and you moved your slender fingers in circular movements over your sensitive pearl, while the fingers of your other hand moved in and out of your tight hole.

You thought of him and how he had moaned when the girl had closed her mouth around him.

His name was on your lips as you came and you knew you could no longer run away.

You didn't see him the next day and you had never felt so alone before.

The seventh day had come and Aegon was sitting at your table in the tavern and getting drunk. He had already had four cups, but he wasn't drunk yet. Not yet.

Aegon hoped that you would come. He had confessed his love to you and you had run away, but he couldn't blame you. Not after what you had seen. You had a heart of gold and now he had ruined you.

The sun had long since set when you entered the tavern. You didn't know he was there, but you had a hunch. And indeed, your prince was sitting in the furthest corner, alone and staring at the table. It reminded you of your first meeting, only now the roles were reversed.

Slowly and with quiet steps on the wooden floor, you approached him and sank into the seat opposite him. He looked up at you in surprise.

"Good evening," you said with a gentle smile on your lips.

Without waiting a second, he grabbed your hand and pressed a quick kiss to the back of your hand, while a sigh of relief escaped him.

"You're here," he whispered, as if he could hardly believe it.

"I had a hunch," you answered him gently and brushed a loose strand of hair from his forehead. He was so beautiful and in that moment you realized it again.

“About yesterday…” he began hesitantly. “I wasn’t thinking properly. I said things I shouldn’t have said. I should have-”

“Aegon,” you said and he finally stopped speaking. “I love you too.”

Before he could say anything about your confession, a loud laugh suddenly came from the side and Aegon froze when he saw Martyn and Leon standing not far from their table. They already seemed extremely drunk and were staggering from one foot to the other.

"That bastard actually did it!" Martyn slurred and pointed a finger at the prince, which made you look back and forth between the three men in confusion.

Leon pulled a sack of gold dragons from his belt and threw it on the table. It landed right between you.

"Well played. You won the bet," Leon said with a grin.

"And? Are you keeping this beauty this time?" Martyn then asked and you slowly understood what was happening here.

Aegon looked at you and the expression on his face was pure desperation and panic. He had something to do with it and a lump slowly formed in your throat.

"What kind of bet are these men talking about, Aegon?" you asked him uncertainly.

"I- I-" the Targaryen stuttered without being able to say a clear word.

Before he could explain himself, the drunken redhead intervened again: "We gave him a week to seduce a woman and by all appearances he succeeded."

Your eyes filled with tears and you could feel your heart breaking into hundreds of shards of glass that could never be put back together.

"Nothing of this, absolutely nothing, was real," you realized, your tone bitter and angry.

Aegon immediately shook his head and grabbed your hand again to prove you wrong.

"In the beginning, yes, but no more. I love you. Truly," he answered you honestly, but you just shook your head and pulled your delicate hand away from his again. You loved this man, but the pain blinded you.

"Do you hear that? He loves her!" Leon laughed and patted his friend on the shoulder.

"You are such a damn fool," you cursed and stood up abruptly from your seat to run away from him a second time, but Aegon would not allow it a second time. He left the sack of gold on the table and ran after you.

On the dark street outside the tavern, he grabbed your arm and pulled you against his chest.

"Listen to me, please," he immediately begged as you struggled against his grip. Your hands hit against his chest and a tear rolled down your cheek.

"No! Let me go!"

He ignored your words. "Listen to me. I love you. In the beginning you were just a bet, that's true, but now you are so much more than that. I need you in my life. You are the sun that brightens my days."

You looked at him with wide eyes as another tear rolled down your face. You believed him, but the truth still hurt you.

"I want you," he whispered and slowly leaned down until you could feel his warm breath on your face.

"Would you like me to prove it to you?"

"Aegon..."

He grinned and let his lips wander over your wet cheeks as he kissed your tears away slowly and tenderly. The gesture made your knees weak and your eyes closed for a brief moment.

"The bet said that I couldn't touch you, kiss you, or fuck you. Tonight I shall do all of those things."

The moment the words left his lips, he leaned down and kissed you with a passion he had never seen in himself.

That night he took you, made you his, and proved to you that you were much more to him than a mere bet. You were everything to him.

And he was everything to you.

And his friends were right about at least one thing. This time he was going to keep you.

⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅∙∘☽༓☾∘∙•⋅⋅⋅•⋅⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅

#house of the dragon #hotd #hotd fanfic #aegon ii targaryen #aegon targaryen x reader #aegon ii fanfic #aegon ii x you #aegon targaryen x you #aegon targaryen x female reader #aegon x reader #aegon ii x reader #aegon ii smut #aegon the elder #aegon targaryen smut #king aegon #tom glynn carney

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zablife · 3 months ago

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Benny Takes You Cruising on Halloween

Benny Cross x female reader

A/N: Benny takes you cruising late on Halloween night, requested by @theycametoconquertheearth53. Part of my Corrupt a Wish challenge.

Warnings: dark!Benny, drinking, stalking, kidnapping Corrupt a wish reminder: If you think this story has a happy ending, you haven't been paying attention. Proceed with caution!

Benny was always running away. Something in the steady rhythm of a humdrum life in the suburbs had never agreed with him. As a teenager he'd left his parents behind, swearing never to return. But the big city hadn't treated him well, a hungry stomach and soul made worse by a cruel world. It hadn't been the adventure he hoped and his bright blue eyes began to dull from constant disappointment.

That is, until the day he spotted you at the soda fountain. Craning his neck to find the source of carefree laughter, he watched you swing your ponytail and sip a milkshake. The sight of your shapely figure made his heart throb.

Sitting up straighter in the booth, he tried to ignore the jukebox competing for attention in the corner. And when he picked out your voice over the strains of the music, he held his breath just to listen. Your words sounded as angelic as the pleasant ring of your laugh and he became infatuated with it in a matter of minutes.

Twirling the straw in your glass, you were oblivious to the dirty biker eavesdropping on your conversation. You had more pressing things on your mind, like what you were going to wear to the Pi Kappa Alpha Halloween party. "Do you really like the pink? I thought red would be sexier," you admitted to your friends, biting your lip as a naughty smile pulled at the corners of your mouth.

"You're not going to dress up?" your friend Linda asked, pushing her ice cream away in a childish pout. "Last year everyone loved our group costume," she argued.

"We're seniors now," you reminded her with a wink. "Time to get serious."

"I agree," Jenny replied with a firm nod, all business when it came to the topic of boys. "I'm attending to find my future husband, not bob for apples."

"Can't we do both?" Linda asked hopefully.

Wrapping an arm around Linda, you pulled her close as you whispered, "Don't worry, I intend to!"

Another eruption of giggles came from the counter as you rose to gather your school books. The dark green ribbon adorning your ponytail fell to the ground like a leaf drifting from a tree as your hips swished, sauntering off into the blinding afternoon sunlight.

The bell above the door rang out just as Benny's heavy boots thudded across the floor. When he reached the spot where you sat moments earlier, he bent down to pick up the soft velvet with callused fingertips. He couldn't resist the urge to draw the material across his cheek, inhaling the floral notes of your perfume as it passed under his nostrils. He only snapped out of his trance when he saw the waitress reappear to collect the coins off the counter in front of him.

"Hey, you know where the Pi Kappa Alpha house is?" he demanded.

Hands resting at her hips, she studied him with disdain. "And why would you need to know that?"

Benny narrowed his eyes, but tried to remain civil as he held up the ribbon. "Just wanna return that girl's hair ribbon is all," he explained.

The waitress attempted to swipe it from him, but he jerked it away just in time. Holding her gaze, he spoke in a low, serious tone. "A gentleman would give it back."

"You ain't no gentleman," she snorted.

As Benny reached the outermost limits of his patience, he pulled a switch blade from his jacket and held it before her terrified face. "You're right," he conceded with a dangerous look in his eye, metal gleaming in his hand. "That's why you should answer me."

---------------

Halloween 1965

Benny had camped out all night in anticipation of the party being held by the fraternity brothers down the street. He figured it was a small price to pay for seeing someone as lovely as you waltz back into his life. His diligence was soon rewarded as he glimpsed you teetering down the walk in impossibly high heels and a crimson red dress. "Look fuckin' perfect," Benny hummed under his breath.

Flicking his cigarette onto the pavement, he exhaled a large plume of smoke which obstructed his face. Hands jammed into the pockets of his faded Levi's, he stalked after you, half hidden by the flickering street lamp.

"One smoke and I'll be right back," you'd cooed at your boring date before he allowed you out of his sight. However, now you wondered if that had been such a good idea. Your vision fuzzy from the alcohol you'd consumed, you couldn't help but stumble as you dug into your purse for your cigarettes. Children dressed as ghouls and goblins brushed past you, making you sway unsteadily.

Your skirt still swooshed in their wake as an unfamiliar man approached. "Kids," you shrugged.

"Yeah, kids," Benny echoed with a wide smile. Then noticing your unlit cigarette he offered, "Need a light?"

You nodded in appreciation, leaning forward as he cupped his other hand around the flame.

"Thanks," you mumbled with your first exhale.

"No problem," he answered, staring intently into your eyes.

Tilting your head to study him, you noticed his rugged good looks. He wasn't like the boys inside who all reminded you of your father. Stable and predictable, they weren't half as interesting as the man who was offering you a ride on his motorcycle now.

"So you wanna come with me or what?" he asked in a seductive whisper.

"I don't know..." you hesitated all of a sudden, eyes flicking to the bike and back to your new dress.

Benny chuckled as he assured you, "I'll go slow."

You thought for a moment as you dropped the cigarette to the ground and pressed it under your toe slowly. A shriek of excitement issued forth from the kids trick-or-treating across the street and you laughed at their enthusiasm. That's when you realized this was the safest night you could choose for such an adventure with so many people out and about. "Alright, let's go," you agreed, taking his hand as he helped you cross the street.

Heart thumping against your rib cage, you allowed Benny to help you onto his bike. He smirked to himself as your fingers curled around his jacket, squeezing tightly against his waist the moment he accelerated away from the curb.

The wind in your hair felt exquisite, the cool air a welcome feeling on your burning cheeks. Am I drunk? you wondered before relaxing against Benny's strong frame and resolving to enjoy the ride.

As soon as the houses of the neighborhood began to fade into the distance you furrowed your brow in confusion. "Where are we going?" you asked over the roar of the engine.

"You'll see," came his cryptic reply.

Your insides stirred at the promise, taking in the sights of the city before he exited onto the highway. "Wait," you objected, but he couldn't hear you, zooming into oncoming traffic with shocking speed.

"You...you said you'd go slow," you shrieked into his ear.

He turned his head slightly and nodded as though he'd heard your complaint. Then he fell in line with a group of bikers.

Much to your chagrin, they soon flanked both sides, whooping and whistling at you. The display unnerved you, breath coming in short spurts as you squeezed your eyes shut against their hungry looks and lewd hand gestures.

Sensing your tension, Benny reached a hand back to stroke your leg, lifting your dress to expose your bare thigh. The other bikers leered back at you, grease stained hands gripping the handles of their motorcycles harshly and you wondered what they would be capable of if they caught you.

Benny's head tilted back, a wolf cry leaving his triumphant lips. As soon as it met your ears, you cowered in fear, knowing this had all been a big mistake."D-do you know them?" you asked, afraid of the answer.

"Course I do," he called back to you with a devilish grin. "We're all gonna have a real good time tonight."

"We going to a party or something?" you asked suspiciously, pressing into him for safety.

Benny's cock stirred the moment you began to hiss into his ear, using all his self control not to pull off the road and take you there. However, he knew the Vandals' rules well. Everyone shared on the first night.

------------

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#the bikeriders fanfiction #the bikeriders imagine #Benny Cross fanfiction #Benny Cross imagine #dark!Benny Cross #Benny Cross #Benny Cross x reader #Benny Cross x you #Benny Cross x y/n #Austin Butler #zablife corrupt a wish

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ewanmitchellcrumbs · 10 months ago

Text

All Things End

Pairing: Osferth (The Last Kingdom) x f!reader Warnings: Angst, smut. Word count: ~2.7k

Summary: Based on this request. Life has been blissful for Osferth since finding love with a Christian woman from Alton. However, he cannot shake the thought that she deserves better; if he loves her, he should want her to be happy, even if that happiness is not found with him...

Author's note: No tag list. Please follow @fics-by-ewanmitchellcrumbs and turn on post notifications.

Her breaths come in ragged pants that fan hotly against the sweat soaked skin of Osferth’s neck. She is pliant beneath him, thighs wrapped tightly around his waist, mirroring the spasming grip of her warm, wet walls, pulling him towards his end as she reaches her own. The pressure that has steadily been building at the base of his spine explodes in white hot intensity, and he screws his eyes shut as he pushes back into her with a final, deep thrust, spilling himself inside of her.

Inside of her.

He freezes as the sensation fades away, eyes snapping back open in stark realisation. He pulls back, breathing heavily, panic not allowing his heart rate to slow.

“I–I did not mean to…I’m sorry. That was careless of me, please forgive me, I–”

She places a palm against his cheek, caressing his face gently, halting his rambled apologies. Her expression is calm, though her eyes are glossy, lips parted as the afterglow of their tryst suffuses through her flesh.

“It is fine, my love, we will take care of it.”

He knows all too well what she means when she says that. She will take care of it. It would not be the first time that she has had to.

It has been a year since they shared their first night together, and they have enjoyed many more since then, under the cover of stars, or on the straw stuffed mattresses of the various ale reeking inns that they find themselves in when they have enough coin to seek proper shelter on their travels. Osferth is usually always careful, pulling out and coating her thighs, lower back or belly with his spend. However, there have been two occasions when he has gotten lost in her warmth, the intoxicating scent of her, and forgotten himself, finishing inside of her as he ascends to the height of bliss, before the gravity of his carelessness plummets him back to earth with horrifying cognizance. Tonight is the third time that this has happened.

His expression is sullen as he sits by the campfire the following morning, watching her brew the pungent roots and herbs in a steaming pot of water. The acrid stench makes his nostrils twitch in disgust, but he refuses to move or look away. She is the one that has to drink the noxious liquid, suffering the smell of it pales in comparison, and does little to assuage the guilt that weighs heavily upon his chest.

She grimaces as she gulps it down, brow furrowed as she struggles not to retch at the taste, and he swears silently to himself that this is a torment that he will never allow her to suffer again. She deserves better, he must be better for her.

The frightened young woman he had met in Alton has come a long way since he had rescued her. She is no longer shy and fearful and, though still steadfast in her faith, she shares herself with him freely and without shame. She drinks ale, laughs heartily at Finan’s dirty jokes and no longer displays any apprehension at interacting with Uhtred and the others. His heart swells with warmth and affection for the woman he has fallen in love with, she is truly the light of his life. Though in moments such as these he is left to ponder on how exactly he has changed hers, and if it is for the better.

He has basked in her warmth on chilly evenings, enjoyed the sinful pleasures of her flesh, found comfort and joy in the unconditional love that she showers him with, but what can he possibly offer her in return?

Osferth is her protector, but would she need that protection at all if she were not travelling with Uhtred and his men? He is the blade against the harm that he directly places her in the way of every time they prepare for battle. They have no home, no money, nothing but what they carry upon their horses. He loves her more than he ever thought himself capable of loving another person, but love alone will not provide for her.

The thoughts consume him as they ride south, towards the next village, and he clings tightly to her as she leans back against him in the saddle, as though he can feel the very essence of her slipping through his fingers. A man less selfish would simply let her go, but he cannot fathom a life without her. Deep down, despite trying his best, he knows he will never get it right.

Beocca and Æthelwold are awaiting them when they arrive, and she leaves him with a cheerful smile and a soft kiss on the lips, explaining that she wishes to explore, a polite means to excuse herself from the discussion that she knows does not concern her. He is ever grateful for her intuitive nature, but once more left disheartened that she is placed in that position to begin with.

He is barely able to focus as Beocca relays Alfred’s demands to Uhtred. There is a dawning sense of finality settling in the pit of his stomach, causing cold tendrils of dread to spread throughout his body, and it does not come from the news of the King’s order of one hundred pieces of wergild and an oath sworn to his son, Edward. There is a price he knows he will have to pay sooner rather than later, and it will come at a greater cost to him than any fealty sworn to a future ruler.

Osferth watches as she laughs breathlessly, the sound carrying softly on the breeze. The children scurry around her skirts, rosy faced and grinning, eager to play. She had obliged and agreed to join in on their game of chase when they had invited her, excited at having new people arrive in the village. Her playing with them feels effortless, natural even, and he thinks about how easily she would adapt to motherhood, to have a babe of her own to hold in her arms. It causes a lump in his throat, his gaze growing misty as his mouth tugs downward, knowing that’s something he will never be able to give her.

He is a bastard. He will not pass that curse on by marriage or parentage, that will die with him.

But what of her wants and needs? He is depriving her of the opportunity to be a wife, a mother. He can no longer subject her to a life of vagrancy and uncertainty, simply because of his heedless desire to have her at his side. She did not ask for this, it has been thrust upon her without her say so. Her life cannot truly begin until the one she leads with him comes to an end. With a heavy heart, he decides that when they reach the next town he will travel on without her.

The village they currently occupy seems too small, too dirty, not vibrant enough for her to call home, he reasons, she deserves to live somewhere bigger and as filled with exuberant life as she is. He knows he is lying to himself, he is simply unprepared to let her go, he is not ready. He is not sure he ever will be, but he will have to be for both of their sakes.

Over the coming days, he keeps her close, committing to memory the softness of her hair between his fingers and the way the sunlight dapples upon it like fresh spun silk. He inhales the fragrant scent of her skin every time he holds her close, as though trying to permanently imprint the faint floral smell upon his mind.

The way her eyes light up whenever she smiles is the sight he will miss most of all. He wishes for that to be the only expression he ever sees upon her beautiful face. He cannot bear the thought of parting ways and seeing the heartbreak in her eyes, or the tears that might fill them. It is craven, but he knows the only way he will ever be able to leave her is if he slips away without telling her.

His heart sits like a stone within his chest when they eventually arrive at the next town. He knows that when he departs it will no longer be in tact, torn asunder as he leaves half of it behind. He can see his future darkening as he looks into her eyes, knowing it may be the final time he ever gets the opportunity to do so.

Osferth makes love to her that night, his pace unhurried, every thrust drawn out slowly, memorising the subtle movements of her hips and each soft sigh that passes her lips. His hands stroke through her hair, caressing her face, before dragging over her curves. If this is to be his final time with her then he wants it to last, wants her to feel just how much she means to him, and to be left with the memory of how utterly divine she had felt pressed against him.

“I love you,” he whispers to her, as she cuddles against his chest afterwards.

“And I love you.”

Those simple words cause his throat to tighten, knowing he will never hear her utter them again.

It is for the best, he thinks sadly as he watches her sleep peacefully next to him. She deserves the opportunity to settle down, to get married, to have a family. She deserves everything he will never be able to give her.

He slips out of the bed as dawn breaks, casting a dusky orange glow through the gap in the threadbare curtains. The loss of her warmth is intensified by the knowledge that this is his final time experiencing it, the sensation of parting from her akin to being plunged into icy water. He has to force himself to look away from her in order to gather up his clothes and get dressed, careful not to disturb her.

Hovering by the door, he hesitates a moment, staring at her as she slumbers. If this is the right thing to do, then why does it feel so painful? His love for her is unconditional, however, and he longs for her to find happiness, even if that means he is not a part of it.

He hates the thought of her waking up alone, the inevitable betrayal she will feel when she realises what he has done, and it tempts him to stay, to continue to pretend that he could ever be enough for her. But he knows those feelings will pass for her, and when they do she will meet the man who will marry her and father children with her, a man who does not carry the curse of bastardry.

“There is a woman in the room upstairs,” he tells the innkeeper on his way out, handing him a coin purse containing all of the money that Osferth has to his name. “Please ensure she is well taken care of.”

His hands shake as he saddles up his horse, the void she has left behind seeming as though it will swallow him whole. He is incomplete without her, destined to go through life feeling like half of a person.

Finan raises an eyebrow at Osferth, as he tends to his own mount, eyeing him with suspicion. “She not coming with us?”

Osferth swallows thickly, an attempt to keep the emotion from his voice, as he keeps his eyes focused on the straps he buckles. “No.”

“Yes, I am!” She cries out, hurrying towards them, a bewildered look upon her face. Her hair is still tousled from sleep, suggesting she had dressed in a hurry to catch them up. “Osferth, why did you not wake me?”

His heart sinks, tears prickling his eyes as he turns to look at her, knowing he will now have to have the conversation he had been wanting to avoid all along. Finan clears his throat, looking between the two of them, before moving away towards where Uhtred and Sihtric are readying to leave.

“You are to stay here,” he says in a trembling voice, “I have left coin with the innkeeper to take care of you.”

“For how long?” She asks, brow furrowing in confusion.

He lowers his gaze, guilt pooling in his gut, unsure of how to word his response. There is no kind way to say “forever” in this instance.

“For how long, Osferth?!” She asks again, her voice wavering as it raises an octave.

His eyes are sad and filled with remorse as he looks back up at her, nausea swirling in his stomach as he watches a tear slip down her cheek. His fingers twitch uselessly by his sides with the urge to wipe it away.

“Do you not want me anymore?”

Her voice is barely above a whisper as she asks this, and it feels as though a dagger has been twisted into Osferth’s heart. How could she possibly ever believe he didn’t want her? She means everything to him.

He shakes his head, the words feeling as though they will choke him as his vision blurs. “I will never stop wanting you,” he confesses, “but that is precisely the problem. You deserve better than the life I can provide for you. I will never be able to give you children, or marry you. I am trying to do what is best for you. I want you to be happy.”

“You make me happy, you bloody fool!” She cries, the slightest hint of anger creeping into her tone. “And it is not for you to decide what is best for me. Why did you not tell me that this was how you were feeling?”

“I could not bear to have a conversation that I knew would break both of our hearts. I know that is cowardice, but I knew you would never agree to leave, and I cannot continue to hold you back from the life you deserve.”

He stares miserably at her, feeling the wetness of his tears upon his face as she swipes angrily at her own. This is not how this was supposed to go. He does not want this to be how they remember each other.

“You are right,” she says defiantly, “I would not have agreed to go. If a husband and children were what I wanted then I would have parted ways with you long ago. I am not the scared little girl you found a year ago. I make my own choices.”

His lips part involuntarily, eyes widening slightly. “How can this possibly be the life that you would choose for yourself? How could I ever be enough?”

She sighs, reaching for his hand, clasping his fingers tightly in his. The gesture spreads warmth from the tips of his toes all the way to the top of his head.

“I love you, Osferth. You are enough for me. The life we have is enough for me. I do not wish to risk my life in childbirth, or spend my days tending to the needs of a husband who views me as something to be possessed. I want a life that is filled with adventure, I want to fall asleep under the stars, and I want to do it all with you at my side.”

A small, yet hopeful smile tugs at the corners of his mouth as he steps closer, tenderly wiping away the wetness beneath her eyes with his thumb. “Are you sure?”

She nods. “God brought us together for a reason. All things must end, I know this, but not what we have, just the foolish way in which you perceive it.”

He rests his forehead against hers, relief and embarrassment flushing his cheeks. “I have been so stupid, can you ever forgive me? I do not know how to even begin to apologise.”

She leans in, pressing her lips to his, allowing them to linger for a moment before pulling away with a slight grin. “Save your apologies. You will need them for the innkeeper when you ask for your money back.”

He smiles. There is comfort in knowing that everything ends, because within it they have been given the opportunity to begin again.

Part two | Series masterlist

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97keanu · 9 months ago

Text

Digital Angel

Premise: You're a hacker living in 1999 Chicago. The bustling city has been lonely, save for a few friends you've made at the local goth club. You fuel your lifestyle by hacking important classified information for criminals, but lately your usual clients haven't been coming around. Turns out, some hacker named "Neo" has been stealing your clients. You decide to get to the bottom of this by hacking him back...

Tags: slowburn, enemies to friends to lovers, loser!neo, perv!neo, virgin!neo, prematrix au, hacker!reader, goth!reader, bdsm elements, age gap 23/35, eventual smut, stalking, cyber stalking, masturbation, neo is a naughty panty sniffer, he's literally such a pervvy stalker in this idk what to say, themes of loneliness and longing, neo and reader are each others mirrors, two sides of the same coin, fated to be together, red string of fate, last two romantics in the city, yadda yadda.

Words: 12.4k

A/N: This is the revised edition of Digital Angels first 3 chapters. Fully edited, added some new content/context, and Chapter 4 will be out tomorrow! (If you wished to be tagged in it, please add yourself to my taglist, and select Neo!) Thank you to everyone who has enjoyed this fic, I hope to do it justice in the coming chapters.

Read chapter 4 here!

꒰˵ˊplaylistˋ˵꒱

You sit in your bedroom, basking in your computer’s green glow. It’s been a hot summer, the night air doing little to cool Chicago down, and the window and fan set up you have running do little to help. You should be sleeping but something has been bothering you lately, keeping you up well past midnight.

Your typical clients, who come to you for illegal information that you’ve hacked from the government, haven’t been contacting you. In fact, you’re getting more small-time stuff than ever. Fake ID requests, fake official reports for god knows what, and the last straw was today, when you were asked if you could illegally pirate a DVD for some teen.

“Really? Back to burned DVDS?” You had thought to yourself. It was almost laughable if it wasn’t for the fact that without the bigger time jobs your rent wasn’t getting paid. And there was no way you were going to get a real corporate job like the rest of the early 20 somethings your age.

You had asked your closest client over IM earlier tonight. And what he gave back to you, was a name.

[Neo]

The screen read back to you, as if taunting you with the existence of him. Such a little name for the big pain in your ass he’s been.

Well…if this “Neo” guy was taking all your clientele, then you were going to look into him. You worked too hard for your hacker prestige to be brought back down to pirating softcore porn for any local sleaze ball. No…you were going to find this guy and confront him.

So, that’s why you’ve been working tirelessly these past four hours, hunting down any trace of “Neo” online. You haven’t found much yet, but you can feel yourself getting closer. The more false leads you eliminate, the more the real one will stick out when you see it. You rub your eyes until you see inky little stars and after you pull up your long black hair into a ponytail so that it’s off your neck in this heat. That’s one thing you hated about summer the most. The heat. It left you little black options to wear, and that made most of your wardrobe unbearable. Right now, you were stuck with a black tank top, foregoing wearing pants, just to survive.

You take a moment to gaze out your small apartment window, to get away from the glow of the computers for a second. The Chicago skyline greets you as you open up the window enough to straddle a leg out of it. The night air helps, and a cool breeze blows on your sweaty skin. You need this. Just a moment to yourself before you get back to it. You pull out a cigarette and light up the end with a faint red glow.

As you gaze out, you see other little apartments in the area. Your apartment is high enough up that you have a great view of all the dazzling lights of the city. One perk of the shithole you live in.

You sigh out a puff of smoke, and think of all the tiny white flecks of windows. Some of the closer ones you can see their insides better. You can see from here a kitchen window of an older couple making dinner, someone’s living room with a blue gash of flickering images passing by. Your eye catches on an apartment somewhat like your own, a green glow with their own computers, the owner sleeping softly at their desk. You wonder where all their lives will go when you look away. Do they cease to exist because your gaze does not fall upon them…?

No, you logically know it doesn’t work like that, but it sure does feel like it. You don’t think you’ve known a true friend that you’ve kept up with in years. Just you and your computers…

You finish your cigarette break, and find your way back inside your bedroom, popping Wish by The Cure into your walkman, ready to plug back in and search for the fucker stealing all your jobs.

It’s a few hours still till you find it, but there it is, a sloppy job this ‘Neo’ must have done at some point. He left behind some evidence and here you are finding it like a fingerprint at a crime scene. His IP address was left behind. Now it’s time to have some fun…

You begin to run your own home grown line of code. It's not intricate, a bit unstable, but it will do. You get access to a lot of his computer files, but most importantly the IM app he uses to message. You’re also surprised to find a photo of him as you're searching around. Or what you assume is his face. It looks like a photo taken for a work I.D. An all white background, center and staring at the camera with slightly dead eyes lead you to believe that.

You can’t help it, but when you see him, you think he looks sort of cute. A part of you curdles at the thought of finding the enemy cute, but it's the truth. He has big brown puppy dog eyes which you’ve always been a sucker for, and surprisingly soft features despite sporting a set of high cheekbones and a sharp jawline. His black hair is also a plus, it looks somewhat neat for the photo, but he doesn’t look like the type of man who is too appearance focused. Lucky him, to have such genes to get away with it, you suppose. There’s just something about his eyes that really makes your heartbeat quicken, something about the touch of loneliness there, even though he has the kind of face that was made to be loved. You catch yourself blushing and force your mind to stay on task.

You get back to working with your program. If this works correctly it would give you an in to talk to him. You can use this program to help you hack right into Neo’s friend list and send him an IM. You grab a coke from your mini fridge and get to work, the cool, bubbly liquid waking you up enough to finish the task.

Finally, after what seems like ages, you’re in. You send Neo a message, leaving your typical dorky screen name on. It's not your real name anyways so it doesn’t matter.

[NightShade]: I hear you’ve been stealing all my clients, Neo…

You think for a moment, wondering what exactly you should say first, but this seems good as anything. You’re worried because he was so hard to find, he might just ignore or block you. Doesn’t hurt to try, so you press send and lean back in your chair, somewhat proud of the night you’ve had.

As you wait, you begin to think the other hacker is likely asleep. You sigh, sleep coming to claim your eyes just as well, so you decide to get up and take a shower. It’ll help with how hot it is too, you determine with a nod of self assurance as you hop up out of your chair.

You are attending to a bit of self care in the cool shower, when you hear a ping! You don’t think you’ve ever scrambled out of there so fast.

You attempt not to slip on the titles as you rush out, and find yourself padding with wet hair to the computer chair in nothing but a black towel. You feel too nervous to look, what if he doesn’t want to talk to you? You did come on strong with your first message, accusing him of stealing your clients and all…

[Neo]: Who are you? How did you message me?

The computer reads as you sit, and contemplate how to respond. It is a strange predicament in general, you suppose, but you’re not backing down now. You pause and consider how to reply, but a part of your heart beats with happiness that he responded at all.

[NightShade]: You’re not the only hacker in town you know, and word is that most of my return customers have been coming to you lately.

You sit back and bite your lip, you know you’re confronting him and all, but really, what is the end goal…is it just to say you tried? Is it to win him over? Beg him to stay out of your side of the business…you’re not sure. You feel this strange pull to him regardless.

[Neo]: So, in retaliation you’ve taken it upon yourself to contact me and complain?

He’s right, maybe this whole thing is childish. Maybe you’re childish, despite being 23 and trying to make it as a big time hacker like the rest of them. You can’t help but respond as the late night anxiety whittles on…

[NightShade]: Well, if I could find you within the night, who’s to say the government couldn’t? Why don’t we create something here that helps us both…

You’re not even sure what you’re getting at, but you don’t want him to log off. You watch, waiting for him to type again…

[Neo]: And what would you suggest?

“Shit…” You mumble to yourself and find your hand is nervously rubbing at your thin eyebrow hair. You’ve been trying to quit that, but nervous ticks are hard to kick.

“Alright, we gotta be smart here. If we propose something stupid he’s going to realize I’m just a young, dumb girl who knows a bit of hacking. Nothing special…” You often find yourself out loud, there’s no one better to talk to at your disposal so might as well.

You consider your options. Should you ask him to divide up turf? Divide up clients? You highly doubt that would impress or please him. No, but maybe you could offer something else…

You begin working on the computer, and checking Neo’s connection. He was terribly hard to find for those few hours but honestly, it wouldn’t take the government long to find him if you could. Not to mention, as you look, he has all sorts of back doors to controlling his computer. You browse a few files and find yourself nodding and smirking as you see a folder full of goth girl porn. Seems he has type…you aren’t sure if it helps or hurts that you dress similar to the cyber girls in his computer.

Ultimately, he might be good at getting the info for the clients, but he is shoddy at best at keeping his own ass covered. You get back to the IM window and type…

[NightShade]: I know you must obviously be good at getting info for clients, or else they wouldn’t leave me to come to you. However, you don’t keep yourself safe enough out here. Like I said, I found you in a few hours. And I can clearly see into your files you have hidden right now, such as some extremely saucy pictures of girls in black leather. Imagine what other information I could find with some time. I can help you fix that…If you’re willing.

You hit send and feel a chill run down your back despite the heat. Will he be receptive? You have no idea. Maybe you shouldn’t have mentioned finding his porn folder so easily.

Quite a few minutes passed before you heard a response, and you were starting to believe he was surely considering blocking you. That sweet sound of your computer pinging pulls you out of your thoughts.

[Neo]: So…you found my weakness…and you propose to help. What’s in it for you?

“Yes!” You think, feeling like pumping the air. “He didn’t say no!”

[NightShade]: We stop splitting clients, we work on the hacks together and I keep your ass from ending up being tracked down again. Divide the profits accordingly.

This time, you get no response. In fact, you sit at your computer for another hour before dragging your tired body to your tiny, disheveled bed. You leave your computer on, awaiting the signature ping just in case. As you lie in bed, you turn so you can see outside the large window beside your dark enclave of a mattress that holds you. As you gaze out at the city once more, you can’t help but feel drawn to that other apartment. Its green glow blinks every so often, as if the previously sleeping stranger was stirring before the window. Pacing, perhaps like your mind does as you drift off.

———

Thomas Anderson, better known as 'Neo’ to the underbelly of the cyber world, is half drooling on his desk when he hears that persistent ping! of his computer. Groggy and tired he opens his eyes, the green glow of his computer the only source of light in his tiny dark room. As his eyes adjust, he lets his pale hands rub sleep from his eyes just to solidify that he’s awoken. A light layer of sweat glistens from the computer light, and tries to wipe some of that too, not that it helps.

He groans a little as he pulls up the nagging chat window that’s blinking for attention. Probably some client that wants this or that, ASAP as always with these people.

His sharp brows furrow as he sees a name he doesn’t recognize.

“NightShade?” He talks aloud to himself, only his ears around to hear anyways in his little apartment.

He is surprised this person was able to get onto his friend list, he thought he ran a pretty tight ship over here, but maybe the extra shifts at his day job were making him sloppy. He finds himself sitting in a bit of disbelief before responding to their claim of “client stealing” as they put it.

“I mean, who does this person think they are?” He scoffs into the dark, humid night air. His sweaty fingers tap along a response questioning who the identity of this 'NightShade’ character is. He’s surprised when they respond almost immediately, claiming to be a fellow hacker.

“Sure…” He rolls his eyes to no one as he takes the situation in. “Probably some petty kid mad that their clients found a real hacker for their needs.”

He reaches over and pulls a cigarette out of a discarded box on his messy desk. He pops it loosely into his mouth, mostly for the comfort of having it there at the moment. He’s not ready to light up, just yet.

The other hacker responds, supposedly finding Neo’s IP and computer just within a few hours. He’ll double that for their sake, not really believing his rig is THAT easily infiltrated. But they do make a good point…if he is seeing this message at all, who’s to say who else could get in?

Neo is intrigued to say the least, he wipes his sweaty palms on his dark sweatpants and responds, asking what the other party has in mind then.

“This should be interesting…” His voice is husky with sleep and an overall tiredness that seems to permeate his entirety.

The other hacker takes a moment to respond, so Neo rolls his desk chair to the nearby window. He cracks it and lights his cigarette finally, looking out to the cityscape.

He watches a plane lazily draw across the sky like a star blinking in and out of existence, and he wonders how despite his business of being a hacker having been so perfectly solitary he has found himself seemingly intrigued by this supposed other hacker. He never really complained that he had essentially no social life. He was destined to be like this, the way he saw it. No one at work took much interest in him, they saw him as a nerdy lackey programmer and was all. Not someone to take out for drinks after work. Not someone to strike up conversation with in the break room. It was like they knew he was different, and stayed away because of it. He had little luck with making friends in his hacking ‘community’, if you could even call it that. Neo was pretty certain he would die alone, and that feeling had been present for so long, it had started to comfort him. Until tonight, that is.

His eyes drift across the city apartments, and he doesn’t notice his pause on another green glowing apartment across the way at first. He lets a long drag of smoke billow out the window as he focuses on it more.

From here he can see a tiny form of a girl, and he actually blushes as he realizes they’re in nothing but a towel. He hasn’t seen a real life woman in such a vulnerable state in a while. He takes another drag as he sighs out the smoke to the thought that he’s been more than a while…

He doesn’t take his eyes away though, he knows he’s safe looking at this distance anyways, so he watches as the young woman is seemingly typing on her own computer. It's not uncommon as a pass time anymore, more and more people are starting to use this new 'internet’ thing, after all.

Still, he wonders for a moment how she feels. Is she as lonely as he is in his tiny room, typing, typing away all night long. Does she like the people she types to? Neo rarely does.

He starts to imagine what kind of life a pretty girl like her must have. Probably messaging her abundance of friends for what they’re going to do this weekend. Likely in university, staying in a shitty apartment until she graduates and moves on to bigger and better things. Neo watches as the towel slips further as she’s more invested in her screen, unknowingly to her that her every move is being watched. Her soft shoulders and collarbones stick out the most to him, the subtle way they move when she types, her dripping black hair falling on them in delicate swirls.

The excitement of seeing this unknowing stranger in such a vulnerable state, a state he’s sure no one else gets to see, draws Neo in.

He watches her until he hears another ping, tearing his eyes away and stubbing out the cigarette on the window sill. Neo has to practically tear his eyes away from her to see his computer screen.

He rotates back to his computer to see the other hacker's message, and laughs out loud at the fact that they seemingly found his porn folder. It's less unnerving than the other party probably thinks, it's likely they believe Neo to be had in this scenario. In a strange turn of events, he’s finding himself feeling a rush over the whole thing, with a twinge of nerves since they do after all, seem to be able to see into his whole system here.

It's a strange feeling for him, he hasn’t felt so naked in such a way for so long. Hypocritic, even after his look into his neighbors apartment. It's as if someone has walked into his room while he was undressing, but instead of fear, he feels a rush of endorphins. It's almost voyeuristic, and he has to laugh at that thought too.

“Alright, so they can see into my computer,” he speaks, as his mind begins to race, considering all the possibilities here. He might as well see what they have in mind to do about this, so he responds.

He is utterly surprised at their proposal for teamwork, however. Somehow this makes him recoil. The thought of working with another in such a way makes him nervous. He has been alone in this for as long as he can remember…

He bites his lip as he considers how much they’ve seen of him so far. It's only fair that he can take a look as well…

Neo disregards the other hackers message for now and immediately goes to work. Since they’ve been messaging him and all, it's pretty easy for him to work his way into finding their computer. The hard part is getting in. It actually takes him much longer than he expects and when he does get in, it's the tip of the iceberg. In fact, he’s utterly surprised that all he can find at first is normie information like what movies this guy watches and some music tastes. He ends up down the rabbit hole for a few hours before he sees something that freezes him.

A profile picture for an online goth community. He can only assume it's the other hacker, and what he knows now is that NightShade is a woman, an exceptionally attractive woman at that.

He can’t explain it, but seeing her image has struck him. Something about her is absolutely engrossing. He finds himself leaning closer to the screen, until he can pick out the pixels beginning to form. His heart skips a beat or two as he realizes he’s enamored…

He pulls back, looks away.

“Get a hold of yourself, it's just some girl, you could see another on the street whenever you want.” He speaks in a whisper as he leaves his chair and begins to pace his tiny room.

Why? Why is knowing she’s a beautiful woman, who’s exactly his type, complicating this? Is he really that touch starved that he’s like some highschool boy after seeing his crush in the hallway. No, he’s a 35 year old man here, he shouldn’t be having these strange feelings.

And with this surge of emotion out of him plus his penance for working alone, he can’t seem to find a way of a team effort working out between them. He starts a few times from pacing to go back to his desk and reply that he is uninterested, but he can’t seem to finish the task.

Neo finds himself sitting on this thought all night and more, your face left in a browser on his computer…

———

It’s been a week since you messaged Neo, and after the first day or so, your heart felt heavy. You know it really isn’t that deep, but the rejection took a hit on you. You started agreeing to CD burns and mixtapes on the fourth day, you feel so down and strapped for cash. You actively seek out reasons to leave your room because it beats sitting around waiting for a reply that won’t come, as well as all the lack of work you’ve been having.

Tonight, you drag home some Chinese take out, walking up the steps of your apartment building as if your legs are made of sludge. By the time you throw yourself into your apartment, you can barely muster the energy to eat. You store most of the food away for tomorrow, but keep the crab rangoons, since those don’t heat up very well, after all.

You set up at your desk, working on getting ahold of some test answers for some highschooler when it happens. The noise startles you enough that the crab rangoon hanging out of your mouth hits your desk. You quickly change tabs and can’t even stop yourself from looking immediately.

[Neo]: I’m in. But I think we should meet in person to go over this.

You have no idea if you should fake that you’ve seen it, or reply straight away. You know that he might think you were waiting on him this whole time if you reply too fast, so you force yourself to finish eating while you sit and stare at the green glow of the screen with a fervor to reply.

Just when you think you can’t finish the last bite fast enough, you thrust your greasy fingers to the keys.

[NightShade]: Alright, but I say when and where.

You’re so much cooler through the computer, he has no idea that you’re over here gushing because you know he’s cute and likes to hack too. It’s ridiculous, you find yourself ridiculing inwards.

[Neo]: Deal, your choice.

You think for a moment, in disbelief that he really means it. You decide to point him to the local goth club you frequent, Club Hel. You are a member there, so you have a private booth you two can talk in. You let him know where to go and who to ask for. You decide, fuck it, tomorrow can’t come soon enough so might as well do it then. You go over the details and the two of you are seemingly on the same page. You stop replying this time first to get the upper hand, even though you’re pretty sure the concept is childish in nature.

It’s been a long day so you plop on a Deftones tee and hop into bed. Strangely enough, your dreams are filled with soft brown eyes and computer code…

———

Neo hates to admit it, but he left your picture up on his computer for the rest of the night. At first, your ghostly pixelated image made him feel strange, to say the least. Accompanying the fact that you were essentially proposing to watch over him, to make sure he didn't leave any back doors open when hacking, Neo began to sleep, images of you as his guardian angel finding their way into his fleeting thoughts of restless sleep.

When he awoke late the next day, he was sweating once again. The hot Chicago summer was droning on, the early season when it's just deciding to heat up was long gone and replaced with humid, sweltering days. Neo could hardly stand it, and opted for a shower, his body sticking to his clothes as he took them off and tossed them on the bathroom floor.

As the cool water hit his body, he began to think of you again. He imagined your pretty little face, you had to be younger than him, that much was obvious. Your dark hair, pitch black as your clothes and makeup. Under the stream of the shower head, Neo found himself imagining you in ways he would feel guilty about afterwards.

He imagines you, in the shower with him, your hands gently cascading down his body, coming to rest right before his hard cock. You look up at him, your makeup starting to fall from the water, and your lipstick leaving rings on his cock when you start sucking him off. Neo practically groans out from the thought, his hand keeping pace on his own cock while he imagines that it's your mouth inside, soft, wet, and warm. He can only imagine what it would be like for you to encompass his cock with your perfect, cute mouth. Fuck. He can barely keep himself from cumming right now, the idea is so sexy.

What really gets him over the edge is imagining taking your hair in his hands and gripping it enough that you cry out, and when you do he's pumping his cock into your mouth harder than before. His muscles tense in the shower, even just the thought of being so aggressive with you igniting every muscle in his body. You, who thinks you had the upper hand after finding his porn stash, who was bold enough to hack into his computer without his knowledge. He continues to think of you choking on his cock, maybe even pulling you off for air, and you begging for more while your goth makeup is dripping down your cheeks. Oh God…He's going to cum.

Neo finishes in his shower, his husky groans escaping finally, and his back finding the cool tile of the shower wall for support.

"Fuck…" He whispers out to the lonely shower walls, a bit of clarity coming to him as he realizes with embarrassment just how lonely he has been.

That along with this trance you've put him in leave him feeling totally guilty. He's just some 30 year old loser who has a kink for chicks in black makeup, he really should be able to control himself. Meeting you shouldn't have any ulterior motives of lust, but he can't hardly stop himself.

He gets out of the shower and tries to wipe off shame with a fluffy white towel, frustrated that his body doesn't feel any less hot than before, but it's not the summer heat that's getting to him anymore. No, it's you. And he has to be able to contain himself tonight when he meets you at the…what was it again? Some goth club from what he researched last night, no surprise there.

God, Neo's afraid he won't be able to help himself from popping a boner when he finally sees you in person. If your profile picture has this much of a hold on him, then he's worried what will happen when he really gets to meet you. Maybe he'll get lucky, and it'll turn out you're actually a total catfish, and some other lonely loser like him. At least then he can laugh in your face and leave. Go back to his typical solitary existence.

A part of him aches at the thought all the while. If it's not what you actually look like, the fact that he just jerked off to you is all the more shameful. And, as much as he doesn't wish to admit, he would be highly disappointed.

Neo finishes up redressing, opening the window to his apartment to let some air in. He looks back out and sees the same little apartment he saw the last intriguing girl in. She's in there now, and from the looks of it, he thinks she's…trying on different clothes? He can barely see what she's wearing from here, but he can definitely tell when her body is bare of anything, becoming all one color besides a splash of dark hair. Just the idea of making out this unknowing neighbor's curves and ass has Neo hard again. He really is a pervert, huh?

He can hardly tear his eyes away, and the only reason he isn't throwing his left hand into his pants again is he knows that he likely won't be able to finish after doing it again so soon. He's almost jealous that he didn't get to sit here, staring out his window at the unsuspecting woman, freely looking at her in such a vulnerable state, pleasuring himself. Instead, he was imagining a girl who might not even really exist all by himself in the shower. He has a secret hope that maybe some other time, he'll catch the siren across the way undressing yet again.

For now, he turns from the window and begins to psyche himself up for meeting you tonight.

——

It's late, but it's the time you asked to see Neo. Everything works better under the mask of night. You can imagine more. A fairytale can become real under the night sky if told to the right person. You hope you actually get to work with this Neo guy. You know that your work has been so little lately, so this would really help you out. But you also know that you've dreamed of Neo all this morning, the image of his striking brown eyes drifting through your mind. The worst part was that some of those dreams were less than innocent in nature. The most vivid is seeing his eyes look up at you from between your thighs…

No, you don't need to think of that right now. He's late and could be escorted to your booth any minute. You currently sit in the red velvet lined booth, large dark curtains enclosing it, making it a safe zone for a meeting. You spent a chunk of the afternoon, worrying about what you would wear, dressing and undressing for well over an hour. You finally decided on a sleeveless dress, its top corseted, embellished with fancy black and purple lace. You chose a short black mini skirt to go along with it, and of course one of your favorite pairs of platform chunky heels. You fit in well with the rest of the clubgoers of Club Hel. You wonder how Neo will feel, seeing you are so much like his dirty little hidden porn folder. That shouldn't matter, this should be a business deal, but it does matter. Somehow, you know in your heart, and your occasionally aching pussy, that you want Neo to want you. It would be so satisfying to know that this nerdy hacker is thirsting after you. Plus it would be less embarrassing that you want him…

Just as you think he's not coming, black manicured nails playing with some drink named 'bloody' this or ‘batty’ that, the heavy curtain is pulled back. The familiar face of one of the usual workers dips in, checking that the person beside him is who you want at your table.

It's him.

You're breath catches, and you're surprised. As soon as you see him it feels as if something inside you is pulled to his very energy. He has on a long, black trench coat. Black clothes underneath that you can't see very well. His hair looks darker, actually, it's gelled back you notice. He isn't someone who looks as goth as the rest of the patrons here, but he doesn't stand out either. You're really taken back by how sexy he is, not like the computer dork you thought he would turn out to be.

From the look on his face, he's surprised to see you too. You wonder if he can feel the magnetic connection, it's like every move he makes is on a wire that you can feel the trembles reverberating through. You can see his dark eyes looking over your body, he even pauses on your breasts, which are accentuated by the low cut and tight corset. You can feel heat rising to you cheeks even though you curse yourself internally for it. You open your glossy. black lipsticked mouth to speak, but he beats you to it.

"NightShade, I presume?" His voice is more masculine than you thought it would be.

You're stunned for a second by him, and realize how childish it makes you seem that you're just staring at him. You also realize you never told him your real name, so you begin to blabber it out, before he stops you.

"We better stick to our code names. As you know, I go by Neo." He says and sits across from you at the booth.

You feel stupid for blurting half of your real name out like that, and know he's right. It's dangerous to even be meeting in person like this. A tiny voice in your head is disappointed you couldn't be known by him as your true self. Not just an alter ego…

"You're right, I'm sorry. NightShade it is." You say with a nervous nod. Neo is so hard to read.

Besides the initial surprise when he first walked in, he now seems as expressionless as a statue. Adding all the more allure to your already dirty mind about him.

"Well, it's good to finally meet you." Neo responds, and for some reason, you get the oddest feeling from the way his eyes look at you.

It's as if he's trying to communicate something wordlessly straight to your soul. You can't tell if it's want that fuels it, or something else, but from the way he looked over your body earlier, you wonder if he liked what he saw.

"You as well. Have you thought any more about what I had proposed?" You gently lift your cocktail to your lips, and softly sip the blood red liquid, your lipstick leaving an imprint on your straw. You wonder what your kisses would look like trailing up Neo's pale neck…

"Yes, I have. And as much as it pains me to say it," Neo says with a chuckle, the way he talks and his age advantage over you seems like he's in much more control here than you are.

Somehow the idea of him dominating this conversation turns you on, you glance at his large hands on the table, and wonder what those hands would look like on your body, especially around your pretty little throat. You're distracted from what he's saying, he says something stronger in tone and you snap back to those endless seas of black that are his eyes right now.

"I think it would be advantageous for us to work together. It's clearly not safe for me to continue to work alone if I can't keep my own ass covered. I'd like it if you could help with that." Despite Neo's words clearly asking for your help, you didn't feel as if you were the one with any power here. Somehow, you feel like the fly who's wandered into the spider's web. The question now is how far will you dip your little legs into it, dear fly?

"I…would very much like that." You say, your voice feeling small, hoping you're heard over the loud club music downstairs. "I would like to split the profits however…"

You add the last part, taking some great confidence that you only seem to find when you're talking online. Neo laughs a little and you worry he is unimpressed by you worrying about money.

"That will be no issue, I don't mind paying you for your…services…" When he says that last word, those dark eyes trail over your body once more, and you can't help but wonder the implications of what he's saying. "I think we could really start to corner this part of town for black market information…"

Something about Neo's attitude puts a chill up your spine, and a heat between your thighs. You can't help yourself, the thought of going back to your apartment after this, alone once more, is too much for you to bear. You want to be acquainted with Neo, the little voice in your head knows you've tossed the thought of something more around a few times in just this conversation. There's something dangerous about Neo, you can't tell what it is about him, but it makes you want to uncover it, find out what his code is hiding, so to say.

"I have to agree. How do you want to go about this? We can work mainly from our own stations, or…?" You begin, trying to drive your thoughts to stay on topic, work out the kinks of this budding relationship between you two.

"I think that will happen for some of the time, but I'm still going to need to give you physical copies of some of the files, and I don't trust much besides meeting up to exchange those hand to hand." Neo seems to have thought over this enough, he's also very cautious. His reserved, quiet, and dark demeanor is so hard for you to understand. If he was as cool as he seems right now, shouldn't he be able to handle himself? It's interesting to you that he needs help from someone ten years younger like you.

"That…makes sense." You nod along. "Maybe a weekly coffee date is in store…?" You say nonchalantly, not realizing you've used the word 'date'. Neo's eyes light up with something, was that a hint of desperation? It's as if you've looked past this cool exterior of a mask he has on and glimpsed into the want that he's hiding.

So it's not just you who feels this pull?

"A date…?" Neo's voice has lost the suaveness from before, now husky with need. You wonder briefly when the last time he had a date was based on this. Is he really, secretly the computer nerd you envisioned him to be? His cold and calculated behavior is slipping.

"Why…?" Your voice comes out slyly, you can't help yourself. "Would you like that?"

You tease him, your brattiness coming out, your dark makeup giving you a more sinister glance his way, you always felt more confident wearing it.

"N-No…" He starts, clearing his throat and glancing away.

There's the dork inside of him.

"I mean, we should definitely have meetings, yes. I just don't want the wrong idea…"

He says the last sentence softly, almost as if he doesn't want you to hear, or perhaps mention it. But you're suddenly in a mood, the little fly who likes to fight back.

"The wrong idea about what?" You lean over the table with a grin, your breasts pressing out of your top as you do so. Of course, Neo's eyes flash there and he is obviously kicking himself for it. "Has something transpired within you that I don't know about, Neo?"

You can't believe how bold you're being, but the way he's now clearly squirming from your questions makes you feel more in control at the moment.

"Nothing, but an interest in…" Neo drags his eyes away from your chest and continues. "In working together."

You laugh a little, but back off.

"Alright, well. Why don't you inform me on what you're working on now?" You smile, eager to begin working with this fascinating man. You feel more alive than you have in a long time, your suffocating bedroom being much of your world lately. This is exciting, and the pull you feel for Neo is undeniable. You wonder if he feels the same. Maybe you could come up with something mutually beneficial, besides working together.

"Well, currently I have some local gang members who want info from rivals who have been using an online chatroom to communicate." Neo seems relieved to get back to work talk, the stoic, quiet side of him settling back in.

"That's not very smart of the rival gang…" You mention, but nod for him to continue.

"It's not, no. But I think they have a resident coder because the chatrooms are locked up pretty tight. I wonder if any of them are secretly government…but who knows." Neo is being very kind to share this information, he must trust you enough right now to let you in, as well as coming to a commitment to your partnership. You almost bite your lip with glee over that revelation, but stop yourself.

"Interesting, I should probably work alongside you to keep you covered then. If any of them are undercovers, we don't want them noticing us in the process." Neo seems impressed by your words.

"Exactly. You're uh, pretty good at this for your age." He comments, acknowledging your age differences with caution.

"Yeah, I've been doing this for a while, and was taught by some pretty good hackers…" You shrug, as if it's no big deal. You want to be mature for him, even though 23 is plenty old, you feel quite immature half the time, hence your bratty behavior. Neo seems a bit skeptical.

"Sure…well. I hope you can do a good job of watching over me while I do the rest of the hacking. I've never had a…I don't know what to call it, an assistant?" He says trying to find the right word for you.

"Hey! I am not going to be your assistant!" You reject the notion, a bit childish of you despite your previous worry of maturity.

"Alright, alright…" Neo chuckles, raising those big hands in defeat. "What should I say instead? Colleague? Partner? Guardian Angel who looks after me?"

He jokes about the last one, but something inside you kind of likes the ring of that. You laugh along with him, you two are getting comfortable, and you notice he's leaned over the table towards you as well.

"We'll work on that one…" You say, looking into his eyes, his eyes searching yours just the same. The flash of the idea of closing the foot of space between you two and trying those soft looking lips floats by in your mind. You can just imagine what he would look like when you're done, his lips smudged with your lipstick. You can't help but want to mark your territory.

The two of you continue to discuss the details, both of you surprising the other with how much tech knowledge you both possess. Somehow, you feel as if he just gets you, it's so strange. You have felt so lonely this summer, it feels as if a fire has been ignited in you, bringing you back to life, your body buzzing. You don't know if it's the liquor you've had, which hasn't been that much really, but you feel like you could get addicted to Neo's energy. He's just so interesting.

When he asks to walk you home, you don't even think twice.

———

The night has brought rain while the two of you were in Club Hel, and Neo's mind is racing. He's absolutely obsessed with you. He couldn't take his eyes off you all night, even though he tried to act aloof and maybe even use his maturity to seem as if he has control over the situation. But the truth is, you could have him wrapped around your finger in no time.

Neo's aware of this, but the lonely loser inside him is so desperate for this connection. He feels as if he needs you. If he loses you, scares you off, that would crush him at this point. If he thought he was in trouble just from seeing your picture, coming and seeing your real life form has absolutely blown his mind. He has no idea how he scored talking to someone as sexy as you, but knows he can't screw up and show you how much of a nerdy perv he actually is. He's so glad the table hid how hard he was for you, and when you two stand up so he can show you home, he keeps his trench coat closed tight.

He quickly helps you into a cab, the rain just beginning, but by the time you're both inside the hot backseat of the cab, you're drenched. God, he can't believe how gorgeous you look with your black hair soaking wet, he watches the city lights glint off your now slippery breasts. He really can't believe you wore something so promiscuous to your first meeting with him.

He wonders if you want him as much as he wants you, but he almost can't let himself believe it. He wouldn't be able to live from another let down like that. He is pretty old to still be a virgin, one of his biggest secrets, and the fact that he's barely talked to girls, let alone never really had a girlfriend doesn't help. He's always felt like such a freak, and the stuff he's into, hobbies like hacking, kinks, or otherwise, have never been something women have been interested in.

But you?

Here you are, this gothic beauty who has the same passion as him. It's too good to be true. He can barely speak to you. He's so wrapped up in his own thoughts and nervous in the cab.

He wishes this were a real date, that taking you home meant he got to follow behind you. His thoughts tumble into going into your bedroom with you, pinning you to the bed, and him finally having his way with you. He's been picturing it all night. He wants you to moan out his name, tell him how much you want him, and take as much of his cock as physically possible.

God, he can't even hardly look at you right now his thoughts are so dirty.

"She probably thinks I'm such a huge freak I can't believe I haven't run her off yet." He finds himself thinking.

Neo wishes he could find a balance between this desperate horniess he feels for you, and being a normal man who has very good intentions with you. He can't help it, he's already lost to the thought of you tied up and willing. He can just picture his hands moving all over your body, tightening the rope where need be. He bets you even want the rope to be black.

"We're almost here…" Your angelic voice whispers to him. He's snapped out of his daydream, and he realizes the two of you are super close to his apartment. For a moment he worries he gave the driver the wrong address, but no, there you are, stepping out and leading him to your apartment.

Neo lets you take his hand, and run through the rain towards your apartment building. It's as if an electrical current is running between where you two meet, hands touching skin to skin, a need so bad that Neo wonders if he can control himself. The urge to pull you to him and smash his lips against yours, uncaring from the rain, is strong enough he has to stop himself. When you two finally get inside the building, you're shivering, your little bit of clothing soaked and not offering much heat.

"Here…" Neo says, taking his trench coat off, the leather allowing most of the water to glide off, the inside dry and warm.

"Oh! Thank you…" Your soft voice says, and Neo feels so good to be able to help you like this. When you turn to go up the stairs, Neo adjusts his cock in his pants, now that the trench coat is gone, he doesn't want you to see his hardness. He hopes you don't notice as he places it against his waistband.

The two of you walk up the stairs to your apartment, and Neo is almost angry with you that he can see up your skirt, spotting red lacy panties on your ample ass. Fuck. He has to keep it together, but it's so hard to keep his brain from fogging over with lustful thoughts of you. You two haven't even discussed anything romantic, he can't be acting like this, besides how much younger you are, you probably aren't interested, and, and…

Neo doesn't even notice you two are at your apartment before you're opening the door and turning to him. He feels entirely caught off guard by your big, innocent eyes looking up at him.

"Well, would you like to come in and dry off? I have a spare umbrella you can use when you go…?" The way you're speaking and looking at him right now, he could just grab you and push you inside, taking as much of your flesh in his mouth as possible. Besides the fact, that there's no fucking way you really invited him in.

"I-Yeah…I would like that." Neo finds his voice. It would be nice, his hair is soaking wet, now dark and in his face, the gel no longer keeping it as slicked back as he would like. He doesn't like feeling so disheveled, so out of control.

"Good, come in. You can sit on the couch…" You say to him, pointing out the couch and bouncing off to the bathroom to get a towel.

Neo sits as told, and takes in your apartment. It's small, has more rooms than his however, and the decor matches your style, a bit toned down in the living room and kitchen, but as he leans over he realizes can see into your bedroom from the couch.

He leans a bit more, and realizes he can see something else too. His cock aches when he notices that he's looking into the bathroom, the door isn't shut fully and he can see your form moving about in there. It looks like you are taking care of yourself first, stripping down from the skimpy goth outfit you had on.

Neo clutches the side of the couch, his breath stuck in his chest as he sees those lacey red panties, and now gets a glimpse of the matching bra as well. He wonders if you wore those on purpose for tonight, or if that's how you always dress.

Soon, he knows he absolutely should look away as your back is now bare, your bra slipping down your shoulders, from this angle not revealing anything quite yet. Neo can't help himself, his hand is pressed to his cock over his pants, just tiny bits of well placed pressure exciting him even more. He knows he can't look, this isn't right, he isn't supposed to see this, but god, he could cum in his pants right now if he keeps staring.

You continue to undress, your bare ass now facing Neo, your panties on the floor of the bathroom, you kick them towards a pile of clothes in the corner. Neo is totally entranced by you, rubbing on himself more and more, getting off on the fact that he shouldn't be looking, the forbidden intrigue becoming an obsession for him. He's so fucked.

He jumps when you begin to turn, and scrambles when you come out of the bathroom and into your bedroom naked. He moves back to his original position on the couch like his life depends on it, his heart beating hard. He tries to adjust to seem nonchalant when you eventually come back out, this time sporting a Bauhaus band T-shirt that's way too big for you, along with a pair of black sporty shorts. He isn't sure if this is hotter than seeing you naked to be honest, your hair is still wet, and your make up has been washed off. He feels as if he should only see this version of you if you only allowed him to be that intimate with you.

You toss him a towel and point into the bedroom.

"The bathrooms in there if you need to use it." You say with a smile, coming to sit on the couch yourself now. Neo nods and quickly stands, trying to hide his hot and hard cock. This might be his chance to help himself out, though the guilt of that is already starting as he thinks it.

He goes to the bathroom, and makes sure the door is shut. He can't let you see this. His pants are down before he can do anything else. His cock is freed, and the night air sticks to it. Fuck, he's so hard for you.

Neo is stroking himself off in your tiny little bathroom, trying to cover his mouth from heavy breathing. He's so scared you'll hear him or he'll take too much time and be suspicious. Honestly the nerves are making it hard to get off, then he sees something laying on the floor and groans.

He snatches your discarded red panties, not even questioning the morals of pressing them against his face and getting a smell of you. God, you smell so fucking sweet and musky, Neo could scream. He imagines fucking you like no other right now. He wants you against this bathroom counter, looking at your own reflection, watching yourself desperately need his cock.

He thinks about tying your hands behind your back, and pressing your face into the counter as he gets forceful with your tiny body. He's so much bigger than you by comparison, height alone gives him all the advantage he needs over keeping you in place and fuckable. He would easily be able to get what he wants from you.

The smell of your pussy on your panties is making his head spin, he keeps using his hand, harder and harder, getting to climax thinking about shooting off a load inside of you. He aims for your sink as he finishes, his disgusting actions leaving a mess there. Once again, fuck…

Neo has to just lean against the wall for a moment to catch his breath. This is the second time he's jerked off to thinking of you. God, he's such a loser. He briefly wonders if he made a mistake, if he goes back out there and by some miracle you actually brought him up here to fuck him, did he just both metaphorically and physically blow it? No, there's no way.

Neo shamefully cleans up after himself. He even makes sure to rinse his hands and the sink with soap, it wouldn't be fair to leave any evidence.

As he finishes up, and actually starts to dry himself off like he was supposed to, he sees the panties where he had set them next to the sink. He doesn't have time to think twice, he has been in here too long, so he swipes them and puts them into his pants pocket as deep as they can go. He hopes you don't notice them missing, my god, does he hope. He composes himself, then finds the confidence to stride back out there and look at you after what he's done.

You're lounging on the couch, flipping through channels on a tiny CRTV. You stop on a late night black and white horror movie. As Neo comes back out, he thinks he sees Bella Lugosi coming to seduce his female victim, and he can't help but chuckle.

"I didn't know you liked the classics." Neo says, your attention turning to him. If he just focuses on teasing you, then maybe he won't have to think about what he just did.

"Of course, Dracula is the best." You say with a smirk, as if he's the dumb one for suggesting anything else. "He's just so powerful and mysterious…"

"Powerful and mysterious, huh?" Neo responds, still standing by the couch, unsure if he's invited to join you.

"Why don't you come sit and see? It's still raining down pretty hard, maybe you should stay until it lets up…?" Neo can't believe his luck, but now he is really worried he came too soon in the bathroom. He slowly sits down next to you, hoping there isn’t some sign of what he just did in the bathroom stuck to him that he didn’t catch before.

"Alright, I'll stay for a bit," Neo tries to sound like this isn't his wildest dream right now.

The two of you continue to watch the movie as the rain gets worse outside. And somewhere between that and now, Neo realizes he may have just had that date with you anyways. His typically heavy heart feels like skyrocketing when at some point you move and lay your head into his shoulder.

The small movement shouldn't have him this flustered, but it does. The rain makes whatever perfume you're wearing smell so much better. It smells powdery with vanilla, musk, and fresh cotton mixing with the earthy scent of rain. Neo takes a deep inhale, nose tilted over your pitch black hair, and hopes you don't notice.

Eventually, the night wanes on, the storm still gently raging and the movie playing out. Somewhere amongst all of that, Neo finds his eyelids getting heavier. His body relaxes as you snuggle closer, and he can tell you are close to sleeping too. He feels like he absolutely should not fall asleep, this is so strange to him, he has never felt this sort of intimacy before. But he somehow feels so safe right now to do so, and it's not like he really has the willpower to deny you.

He lets you snuggle half into his lap, and finds himself falling into a peaceful, dreamless sleep…

———

A hot breeze flows in through your apartment window, and for a moment you wonder if this heatwave will ever break. August is droning on, not ready just yet to give out a final death rattle. Instead, it grips Chicago tightly in a humid warmth that has been suffocating, clouds threatening to rain but never delivering. You lie almost naked, save for a pair of black panties, amongst your bat themed bedding, a plushie here and there, staring up at the ceiling fan and wishing it brought you any salvation in your time of need.

It doesn't help that you are also thinking about Neo. More specifically, the last time you really saw each other. You thought maybe something more than an alliance between two hackers could have been budding when he fell asleep on your couch, but in the morning you awoke to only the scattered couch pillows on the floor.

He didn't even contact you for a week. Eventually, you heard that awaited notification noise, but it was disappointing to say the least. Neo had messaged you, but it was simply to ask if you could help with making sure he was good to hack into this or that, you really hardly cared for what the details were. The anger and hurt inside of you from being asked to be his digital guardian angel after how he treated you could rival the August heat outside.

Still, you complied. You had thought about telling him to go fuck himself, that you no longer wished to interact ever again, but what good would that do? It's not like either of you ever agreed to something more than a work based relationship. And what makes it worse is that deep down, you know how lonely the world has begun to feel. Even now, as you roll over in sweat drenched sheets, looking out to the skyline that stretches ever farther and farther, you know that despite all the inhabitants of this city, you have never felt more alone.

That fact alone was enough for you to do what Neo had asked, wanting to still be in contact with someone who may understand. Although he had ran from you, hidden away and obviously too frightened to ask to meet up again, you think the reason for all of that may be that Neo is lonely too. You have no evidence for this of course, but you could almost sense it from him. It’s something that burns low, almost burning out, inside both of you, seemed to speak without words when you met. And now all you can do is try to get your mind off it.

Tired of the thoughts running through your head, you huff, sitting up quickly and disgruntled with how much you've been lying about lately. You make the great task of getting out of bed and find yourself before your floor length mirror in your bedroom. What you see makes you frown.

Your hair is a mess, after having not washed it for a few days, your makeup is still on from last night. The black eye shadow and mascara have moved, now cascading down your cheeks in smudges. You look at your usually well kept nails, now riddled with chipped black nail polish from you don't remember when. You can't let it get to you like this any longer. You head for the shower, hoping to both cool off the summer heat, and the heat that this Neo situation has gotten you into.

———

The small fan at Neo's desk moves side to shuttering side, attempting in vain to keep the small room and it's only occupant cooled. Neo sits at his desk, head in one hand, eyes fatigued and tired, trying to fix the script for one of his latest codes.

He's been throwing himself into his work to forget about you. He hates that he got so worked up over you, that he was such a loser to even steal a pair of your panties upon his first time at your apartment. There was no way you deserved someone like him. Not to mention, that you should probably find someone around your own age, not someone like Neo, who at best is a shut-in who can't socialize, and at worst, well, to keep the depression at bay he might as well not say.

To keep this relationship between the two of you professional, he has spent the last two weeks since you two met attempting only to contact you for jobs. It was what was right, the older, more adult thing to do, instead of pursuing a young 20-something goth girl like you because he has a kink for black lipstick.

Still, he had a hard time keeping himself from you. He can hardly even admit it to himself, but he's been hacking your webcam. He starts by telling himself that he just needs to check up on you, especially when you leave his messages on read for hours, although he knows he deserves that after how he disappeared. It's innocent really, he will tell himself, that you need to be checked up on, that it's only to turn on the camera for a second to make sure nothing happened. It is, after all, dangerous work you two do.

Then, it somehow turns to leaving the camera on, letting your image sit beside him on one of the many computers at his desk. It's nice having you there, so close to your computer. You're probably working on the codes he sends you, or perhaps messaging friends, he hears a voice somewhere deep inside tell him to check out those messages as well, but he hasn't brought himself to that quite yet. No, you're simply a video on his screen, almost like watching a movie, or having someone in a cafe sitting next to him, quietly working on their own thing.

He even finds that he likes the music you play, he can't help but be interested to find out more about you in this way. He wishes he could ask you which Siouxie and The Banshee's songs are your favorite off the album, or if you had to choose, would you pick The Smiths or The Cure. It's these little questions about you that plague his mind all day when he watches you. Sure, he could simply ask you these things, but that would be both suspicious as well as violating the self appointed rule of making this a work only relationship.

The worst of it is when he can see you getting ready to leave. You still have a life outside of this. You go to Club Hel, you meet with countless other creatures of the night, and you enjoy yourself. Neo almost hates to see you putting on your goth garb for the day because that means you must be going somewhere, somewhere away from the green light of the screen where he can see you.

Neo sighs out, the heat and these thoughts getting to his head. His fist curls in his short black hair for a moment before he stands from his desk and stalks away quickly. He told himself he wouldn't watch you today, he would lay off that sort of thing, but the need to know is eating at him, and you make it so easy for him, having nothing to block his attempts to hack your webcam. If he were the adult he seems to think he is, then he would simply stop, or better yet tell you to up your cyber security.

But no, deep down, Neo knows. He knows he's weak for you. He knows he's looked through all the photos you've taken of yourself on your computer to post to this or that goth forum. He's looking at them, entranced by how bold you are, wearing only a black lacy bra in some photos with a Vivienne Westwood orb hanging between your breasts. In other's you show off your big platform Demonia's, and Neo wishes he could have you here, stepping on him with those chunky boots and telling him how pathetic he is that he has stooped so low as to cyber stalk you.

As his mind continues down its own rabbit hole with you in tow, he finds himself sitting back down at his desk. He's been a good boy today, not watching you at all yet, and it's late. So he deserves a little taste, right? Just a peek to make sure you're okay, to see what you're up to.

Before any sort of morality can plague him, his long, thin fingers are typing away, pausing only briefly to take a sip of black coffee. He keeps the drink on hand always, his desk littered with a few spare mugs, the insides of which are dry and have brown stains from where coffee used to inhabit. He continues to work around your security, until finally the screen blazes to life, showing the image of your room.

He doesn't see you in there, and for a moment a twinge of panic sets in. Are you out somewhere? You hardly left the house. Where would you even be? Probably somewhere old losers like him don't frequent, like the club. His mind burned at the idea that you could, very possibly, be out with someone else. There was no real reason for Neo assuming this, no. But the worry filled his gut right next to the lukewarm coffee, and he felt his hand tighten around the mouse.

His eyes scanned the screen for what felt like ages, before finally, your bathroom door opened, and he saw you step out in a black towel. Your long black hair is wet, leaving droplets on your shoulders. Your face is bare of your usual make up, and that, for some reason, feels more invasive for a moment to Neo than even the possibility of seeing you naked soon. In fact, his face heats up as the thought finally crosses his mind that there is no scenario in which to continue watching right now would be good, or morally right, in any such way.

There is also no world in which Neo does take his eyes away. He is glued to your pixels on the screen, and he even leans in to see better as you drop your towel on to your bedroom floor. He can see every inch of your body, so much more than what he saw in your private pictures or when he caught a glance of you through the bathroom door. No, this was enough that his cock was now struggling against his pants, which feel much too tight right now.

He is so immersed in watching your after shower routine that his hand moves on its own, opening his desk drawer and finding his current most prized possession. He finds the panties he had stolen from you when last you met, and can't help but press them against his clean shaven face, inhaling your scent while he watches you.

Soon enough, you're laying on your bed, air drying from the heat, your naked form exciting Neo through the screen. What he doesn't expect is that your own hand would snake up to your breast, your other beginning to play between your legs. Good God…Neo had never caught you playing with yourself in such a way since he started watching you. If he thought he was addicted before, it has nothing on what this does for him.

As if feeling commanded by your own touching, Neo quickly undoes his belt with a frantic and needy hand, stumbling as he does from how filled with want he is. He keeps your panties pressed firmly against his face, taking that sweet scent in while he watches you open your legs wider. He lets out a whiny breath as he finally releases his cock, his hand giving no foreplay to what he wants. He hates how much power you have over him, even if it's through a screen and that vast distance of ever flowing information. Somehow, Neo has managed to find himself entranced by you, as if you were some digital siren, beckoning him to keep watching as you dip your fingers into your cunt.

Neo's breath hitches as he continues to watch you feel yourself, and he can only imagine what it would be like to actually fill you up with his cock. If he was there, would your mouth part, opening to moan out his name? He wonders how warm you would feel around his cock, and the thought of being able to actually fuck you sends him closer to the edge.

Neo watches as you continue, your moans now loud enough that your computer microphone catches it. Neo can hear your soft, whiny moans in his headphones as you get closer, not knowing at all that he's watching you through your webcam. He has no idea that you're thinking of him as much as he is you. Not yet at least.

As you get closer, Neo's name falls from your lips in a soft whimper. Neo can hardly believe his ears, did you really just moan out his name?

It's confirmed once more as your pleading gets more frantic, as if moaning his name in such a way could will him through the computer screen and there to fuck you into your bed. You have no idea that that's what Neo wants more than anything. He stuffs his face with your stolen panties and continues to imagine parting your legs even further, his cock thrusting in and out of you instead of his own hand.

It's not until your legs shake, moving and tightening together as his name shudders from your desperate voice that Neo let's himself cum. No, he had to see that you in that moment, that ecstasy. That's what he wanted to give to you, what he imagined he had done, to make you such a mess on your own bedsheets. That's what was driving him wild right now as he finally finds his peak of pleasure.

As Neo finishes, he leans back in his chair, the little fan on his desk not doing much to cool the sweat on his skin. Neo has to find a way to catch his breath, his eyes droopy and unable to focus on much. He can still see your shape, vaguely, as you also seem exhausted in your bed so far away.

Fuck. He really was fucked, huh? There was no way he was going to be able to keep this relationship professional. Not with him stalking you, and how badly he wants you.

He can't even think of the implications right now, instead he crawls into bed, shutting off almost all of his computer screens. He leaves yours on, the green light cascading on his face. He watches you curl up on your dark bed sheets, naked and too hot for covers.

Neo falls asleep tonight to you and the sound of rain beginning to tap against his window.

-----

𐙚˙⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 Read chapter 4 here! Be added to Neo’s taglist here! ୨୧ૄ ࣪˖

#neo x reader #thomas anderson x reader #neo x goth!reader #neo x hacker!reader #matrix fanfic #the matrix fanfic #my writing

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cherryheairt · 17 days ago

Text

The Lost Dragon

Chapter Two: Thief

Previous chapter here

Series Masterlist here

@shabnam2005

Aemond x oc x Cregan (eventual)

Aemond had every intention of forgetting the little farmer girl he'd met out in the countryside. No, she did not save his life from the lake nor from the men who had dared to turn their backs to him. Their king. She'd merely bought him time, and if anything the sudden appearance of the wild dragon what was truly saved him.

He had much more important things to focus on, like his uncle being alive and still rallying allies in the city he has never belonged in. Or, the fact that the goldcloaks were so easily manipulated against the crown. He needed to deal with the lot of them quickly before another incident happened against either him or his mother. He was the last. Without him sitting the Iron Throne, Daemon's bloodline would prevail over his own and he would be forgotten as the king who ruled for less than a moon.

The dark eyes and long, wavy brown hair that flowed past her shoulders like a cascading willow tree. The woman who, perhaps, seemed genuinely concerned for his well-being beyond her own selfish desires.

Yes, he had Sylvie to speak to down in the brothel at his disposal. He had for years, but coin was coin to the Madam, and Saryna had demanded no payment for her gentle healing touch.

Aemond, stepping through the gates of Maegor’s Holdfast to swiftly return to his room and sleep his panging migraine off before dealing with the goldcloaks, unconsciously felt his belt for both weapons. His sword, ever by his side, was slotted into its sheath almost loyally.

He stopped dead in his tracks. Aegon's—His dagger was gone. The peasant girl stole it right from under his nose and he was none the wiser. Perhaps too distracted with her, or with her foreign kindness.

All a front.

Of course it was. No one would do him a favor out of the kindness of their heart; everyone wanted something. He wanted his rightful throne, his mother wanted her family back, and that woman wanted coin. The most superficial thing of all. But, in front of him? When she guided him back to her own house?

Surely, no one would be so foolish as to bring someone to their home for the intention of thievery. Right?

Thief. It all made sense. That mysterious dragon that seemed to hover wherever Saryna went—it, too, must have been stolen from the Targaryens. But when?

He cursed his naivety, clenching his jaw tight and brushing past all servants who attempted to stop and check on the bandaged-up King. He needed to get Vhagar. Needed to teach that farmer girl that ‘King’ wasn't merely a title but a duty. As the law of the Realm, he was meant to preside over justice. Saryna would be made an example of.

“What happened to you?” A familiar voice gasped. Aemond turned to see Alicent, eyes sunken and pink and her hair dry and unkempt. Since Helaena's death, it seemed like Alicent's last straw was plucked from her already bare field. She hadn't been quite the same, always pacing around her chambers and biting her nails instead of being entirely present with her responsibilities. Not that she had too many, as Queen Regent and Mother. The title had worn heavy on her shoulders for years, and it seemed to Aemond that it dragged her to the depths of the sea.

“I have matters to attend to, mother.” Aemond said, exasperated though he spoke without grit to her. She came up quick, holding his face in her thin hands and turning it back and forth to inspect him. When he gently lifted her hands from his face and into his own, squeezing with a reassurance unlike himself, Alicent's eyes brimmed with tears.

“You've been missing all day. The stablehand said you left this morning on horseback with no warning. Vhagar never left, where were you?” She stumbled out.

He measured between the truth and a lie. Finally, he decided to ignore the question altogether. “How many bastards did father sire?” Was his calculated question.

Alicent flinched back like she had been burned. “None.” She hissed defensively. “Your father was good—” Her words were almost as deceitful to herself as they were to Aemond when she choked them out. Viserys Targaryen was never a good father, except perhaps to Rhaenyra at his best times. “He never indulged in heinous and vile actions like his brother did.”

Aemond contemplated her words. She believed them well, he knew, being a pious woman and hating sin more than any who had ever lived in this Keep. Viserys grew sick quickly after Daeron's birth, leaving little room for the possibility of a bastard afterwards. But, before? When he was healthy, he could have ordered a hundred whores to be brought to his chambers.

Aemond doubted his own accusations. Daemon, yes, but his father? That man had never gotten over his first wife, the one who had given him the Realm's jewel and delight.

That is, if this woman even was the blood of the dragon. The Velayrons were not faultless and pure in their activities, either. He needed answers from the source herself.

Aemond left his mother in the hall, ignoring her questioning and pleaful, ‘Aemond?’ calling after him hoarsely. He returned to his chambers, calling for a bath to be made and a meal to be brought to his chambers.

In the morning, he will find his answers.

🖤

Aemond wore the conqueror's crown when attending court. Hearing the menial problems of the commonfolk for hours at a time made him want to tear his hair from his head. It was his duty and honor as King to solve the Realm’s problems‐he knew this well-but endless whining of sheep being mixed between two farms and petty squabbling over a few leagues of land made his head ache with tension and annoyance.

He had not wished to sit the throne today, but to pay a well-deserved visit to the thief farmer girl instead. However, his plans were quickly foiled when his temporarily appointed hand, Tyland, urged him directly over breakfast that the matters of the city were piling up. Especially between the newly opened city gates and the influx of people moving into the city, as well as moving out.

The line reached far outside of the throne room. Aemond knew it would be days before all the men in line would be spoken with, much less have their matters actually resolved. That process would take moons, or even years.

He didn't have such time to waste lounging around sitting atop the throne. When the last man, a poor orange merchant, had given his problem and Aemond in turn gave his best solution, Aemond leaned in to mutter to Tyland. “Sit in for me.”

The demand caught the Lannister man off guard. “Your Grace, I can not just—”

“Great. The matter is settled.” Aemond decided, standing with a sharp smirk tugging at his lips. He left without another word, passing by the guards and men in line both without wasting a single glance. Outside, in the courtyard, the stableboy was waiting with an already tacked-up horse for Aemond.

It wasn't far to the slumbering Vhagar, who rested just outside the gates and in a grove of lush fauna. The old beast groaned in grumpy greeting, feeling Aemond jump into his saddle, yelling a demanding “Sovegon, Vhagar.” For her to hear.

Patting her side gratefully, he quite waited impatiently as the dragon took her time standing on her torn wings and wrinkled hind legs. Finally, when she took a running start to fly, it was only a mere minute before she flew over the farmland. Her shadow engulfed the small cabin and much of the land surrounding it. From the height, Aemond could still hear the panicked ‘baa'ing of the many sheep and clucks of chickens in their coops. Like the moon shadowing the sun in an eclipse, Vhagar brought fear and distress into the hearts of those smart enough to understand her power.

Aemond watched the ground for Saryna as Vhagar descended into the grassy plains. The girl wasn't outside—hiding from him and knowing her thievery wouldn't go unpunished. He smiled a cheshire smile, satisfied. A higher pitched squaking caught his attention, looking to her house and seeing the powder blue dragon perched upon the roof and roaring like a pup at Vhagar. Protecting his territory, and giving Saryna away at the same time. When Vhagar reared to burn the little dragon for his brave insolence, Aemond was swift to calm her. “Doar, Vhagar! Sagon gīda.” He soothed, brushing a firm hand over her scales. The dragon, though not quite as big as he hoped, could prove useful later if given a competent rider. Perhaps one of his own future children. It was about the size of Sunfyre, showing its adolescence yet its potential for growth.

Aemond leapt down from her wing, hand grasping his sword pommel with a disciplined calmness as he approached the door. What he didn't expect, however, upon approaching the cabin, was that the door would be immediately opened for him. In its doorway stood Saryna, with a furrowed brow and narrowed gaze.

She was a good actress, he would give her that.

His eye locked on to the dagger at her belt—the one she used to kill one of the goldcloaks that sought to kill him. “I should have known you had an inkling for daggers.” He hissed lowly, stepped forward and backing her into the home. She stepped back in turn, raising her hands to prevent him from standing too close. “Is that one stolen, too?”

“What are you speaking of?” She asked defensively.

He shot forth, swiping the knife from her belt and holding it high above his eyeline to inspect it in the light. It was a shabby thing, dulled from everyday use and the handle weathered down and frayed a bit from the oils of her hands, or the hands of the last man this weapon belonged to. It was certainly nothing to vie for, nor worth stealing.

“That's mine, hand it back!” Saryna yelled suddenly, jumping to grab it back from him. Her brazen behavior shocked and appalled him in a split second, taking a step back to avoid her reaching.

“Thieves do not own anything.” He insisted, looking around the empty house. “Where is my weapon?”

The woman stilled, a scowl forming on her soft features. “You came here to accuse me of theft? Why would I take from you after leading you to my own home?” She paused, calculating him in her dark gaze. “Your Grace.”

He tensed, searching her eyes for traces of deception. “My dagger was missing when I returned to King's Landing.”

“Mayhaps Your Grace lost it when he tumbled into the lake.” She crossed her arms.

Aemond coughed into his hand, hiding the embarrassment rising in his throat and pushing past it. “I had it after…the events of yesterday. Where is it?” He continued.

Saryna looked around her home slowly. Her eyes caught on the place that he sat at. With a huff, she strided over to the kitchen's stool and pushed it out of the way with a graceful kick. She plucked the dagger from the wooden floor, brandishing it with an unamused face.

Aemond was silent. He walked to her, taking it from her hand and replacing it with her own sad weapon. “That dragon.” He completely changed the subject. “How long has it been following you around.”

“He isn't following me.” She insisted quickly.

“He?” Aemond raised a brow.

Saryna blushed, wringing her hands subtlety behind her back. “It doesn't. The beast likes free and easy prey.”

He hummed, nodding along. “And how long has it been hunting around this farm?”

“As long as I can remember.” Saryna shrugged, glancing out to the plains and watching the blue dragon sniffing towards the green, both now on equal level.

Aemond glanced at her to continue.

“I am seven and ten years old.” She stated. “The dragon was small when I was growing, and has gotten bigger every year. Perhaps we are similar ages.”

The dragon had lived in this area for over seven and ten years before it was even discovered? This woman gained intrigue every moment he was around her. “It is docile, yes? No attacks made on the commonfolk?”

“None.” She answered.

“That's quite amusing.” Aemond said, leaning on the windowsill. “You're living right on his territory. He should have killed you and your brother ages ago.”

She stayed silent, reaching for the basket lying beside the door and scooping it up in her arms. She continued outside, heading towards the chicken coop where the little fowls were grazing along the grass and finally growing used to the dragon so near their home. Aemond followed her all the while, slowly watching as she went through her chores. “I'm just lucky.” She finally answered.

The blue dragon's eyes never left Saryna as she went along, collecting eggs from little slots in the coop. “Lucky.” He mused. “Or, perhaps there is something more.”

The dragon's watchful eye gave Aemond a sudden idea. With his dagger in hand, he held the beast's eye as he swooped behind Saryna and held the knife to her throat, listening to her gasp out in surprise and drop the basket of eggs. The dragon immediately jumped up, roaring in Saryna and Aemond's face, bearing his long teeth aggressively.

“Doar, Fracsor!” Saryna shouted, struggling to stay still in Aemond's arms to keep her throat from being grazed. “Lykiri!”

‘Fracsor’ settled quickly, wings still flaring unhappily but closing his mouth and staying relatively quiet.

Aemond, satisfied with her unconscious reaction, released and dropped her to the ground. He waited for her to catch her breath, looking down at her disdainfully. “A thief.” He hissed spitefully. “Hidden right next to the city? How long did you think you could get away with holding a dragon of House Targaryen for yourself” He crouched down in front of her, holding her jaw in his hand.

Her eyes were wide with suspended shock and slight fear. “My parents were dragonkeepers. They taught me High Valyrion. That's it—Fracsor just stuck around me.”

Aemond pondered her words, tumbling them around in his head thoughtfully. What an opportunity this was, to have a malleable woman who already spoke High Valyrian and a dragon who obeyed her well.

“Can you ride him?” He asked.

Saryna glanced between him and her companion. “I haven't before. I don't think he would wear a saddle.”

“I find myself lacking in dragonriders after the war.” He stood up straight, looking down at her once more and folding his hands. She stayed silent in her place.

“If you cannot be of use, I will find another to ride that dragon.” He trailed. “That means you can't be around to stop another bond. Choose carefully, girl, this is a more than generous offer.

“He is not mine, we are not bonded.” She insisted, tensely standing up. “Take him to give to another rider. It does not affect me.”

Aemond studied her for a long moment before returning to Vhagar.

Upon her saddle, Aemond turned to Fracsor contemplatively. He raised his voice for her to hear, “If my offer is refused…” He trailed off. “Sīmonagon, Vhgar.” The dragon rose to her full height, stretching out leisurely as if the dragon beside her proved no threat.

Saryna was turning her head between the two dragons, rushing to stand next to Fracsor. Placing a hand on his snout, she shook her head. “Don't hurt him.” She pleaded, eyes glossed with worry for her lifelong friend.

He sniffed at the pathetic display, commanding Vhagar to rise and journey back to King's Landing. “Have my answer ready when I come back.”

🖤

Saryna had never considered her life might change so drastically. In only a couple of minutes the King of the realm had branded her a thief and then a dragonrider. She was neither.

But, he was right. Fracsor would be useful to him as a threat against any outstanding enemies to the crown currently. Even if he never officially saw battle, his image alongside Vhagar and Dreamfyre would increase House Targaryen's credibility once more. It would restore the likelihood of more dragons being born and thus more Targaryens being fit to rule the realm as their ancestors all had. She resented the idea of being used in such a plot, especially for that arrogant boy king. Fracsor, too, would have to reside in the dragon pits for most of his time instead of out free in the fields.

Life or death, and Saryna didn't have much of an option. Vhagar would easily find her and Fracsor if she decided to take him and flee. Aemond would make a show of executing the thief dragonrider and find a new, more obedient soldier to ride him.

The idea was tempting, in the back of her mind. She might be welcomed into the Red Keep and treated like a respected warrior, as any Targaryen dragonrider should be. No more farmwork or meaningless years living day-to-day thanklessly.

She had no choice, so making the best of the one provided wasn't so bad, right? Tarkan would certainly not be happy knowing the events of the past two days, and he certainly would never allow her to go on her own into a pit of snakes like that. She worried about how he, too, might be treated without a dragon of his own and his only connection to the capitol being her. Perhaps he would take a job as a dragonkeeper.

Days passed with Saryna anxiously going about her chores and keeping her eyes glued to the skies in waiting for that massive dragon. Vhagar was unlike anything she'd ever seen or wanted to see, and the sight of her threatening Fracsor so mindlessly frightened the soul from her body.

Finally, her anxious waiting was put to a halt when Vhagar and Aemond returned. It was late in the evening when Saryna heard the wind-moving flapping of Vhagar's wings land outside of her home.

Fracsor waited by the door by the time she came outside. Since Aemond's second visit the young dragon had grown more protective of both her and the cabin itself, always hovering over the house during the day and sleeping right in front of it during the night.

It truly did not help to ease her mind, knowing that it only put him in more danger, but it did make her glad to see him showing his affection through his own ways.

Aemond lugged around a massive leather saddle attached to Vhagar's. It was extremely simple in comparison to his own, but Saryna figured it had to be done in the utmost haste. Wordlessly,Aemond unclipped and dragged it down her flank to present it in front of Saryna. The sight reminded her of a loyal dog fetching a bone, but she would never say that thought aloud to the king's face.

“It should fit, given a few adjustments here and there. The most important thing today is knowing whether or not he will let you get on.” Aemond started curtly, looking to Fracsor to assess his attitude.

The dragon grumbled back, shuffling next to Saryna. She hesitated a moment, unsure of the fate she would be sticking Fracsor with the moment she latched this saddle onto him. “And if he doesn't let me?”

“There will be more who are willing to try.” He said dryly. He lifted it from the winghole on one side, nodding for her to grab the other.

With a grand struggle, it felt like hours before Fracsor finally even bowed his head to allow the saddle to be placed over his head and tied behind his wings. Saryna patted him comfortingly as he stretched around stiffly to get used to the new feeling.

Aemond waved a hand to gesture for her to take. Saryna did only after a few moments of silent staring, wondering what he wanted from her. “Go on,” he urged, sounding strangely softer than his usually stern voice.

He helped her keep her balance when she gingerly stepped on Fracsor's wing. Fracsor watched intently with his neck craned to the side and an almost expectant look on his sharp face.

When Saryna settled herself on the saddle, gripping the pommels with whitened knuckles, she looked for Aemond for assistance. He nodded once, taking large steps away from the dragon to watch what the pair might do.

Saryna yelped in surprise as Fracsor wasted no time jumping into the air and catching wind to fly into the skies. In a matter of seconds, Saryna's cabin was a mere speck in the sea of grass and the clouds were surrounding her. Her jaw dropped in awe, reaching out to feel the white and puffy formations—giggling girlishly when she found that they were only slightly colder than their surroundings instead of soft like she had assumed.

After what felt like only a few minutes but could have earnestly been multiple hours, Fracsor returned to the cabin. Saryna took some time to catch her breath, hunched over the saddle's top while breathlessly laughing to herself with the feeling of euphoria.

Aemond was there to bring her down again, guiding her with a firm hand. His eye seemed to gleam with what could be only joy or a cunning plan. “If only you were a Targaryen.” He muttered to her, admiring her tussled curly hair and wind-chapped face.

Saryna felt her heart flutter again, this time not from the adrenaline. She swallowed harshly, shrugging his comment off. “That is too big a responsibility to bear.”

“It is.” He agreed quickly.

🖤

Fracsor seemed to have made friends with Vhagar in their little time together. Though the old dragon was not as chalk-full of energy as he was, she seemed to tolerate his company as they lay together in the grassy hills.

Aemond and Saryna sat nearby. In the pleasant shade of an old oak tree she held her knees to her chest and he fiddled with his dagger between his hands. It caught her eye, “why do you care so much about a dagger? It looks nice, sure, but you could order a thousand to be made within a fortnight.”

“This was my father's. Then, my brother's.” Aemond looked out to the fields. “Before any of us had it, Aegon the Conqueror had it made from Valyrian steel.”

He faced her, lips upturned. “So, no, a thousand cannot simply ‘be made’.” His words were slithered with amusement instead of scorn, making her huff out a small laugh.

“I see why you were so hellbent on getting it back, then.” She said.

Aemond hesitated a moment before offering it to her, blade facing himself. “It is dragonbone and dragonglass that made up the hilt. One of a kind materials that were only common in Old Valyria.”

“Quite beautiful, for a weapon.” She ran a finger across the smooth surface of the forged grip, noting that even that part of the dagger was sharp.

“All weapons have beauty.” He sounded forlorn, taking the dagger back and placing it into his belt.

“I never cared for Targaryen history.” Saryna said, surprising herself with her own honesty.

Aemond looked shocked too, for once. “What do you know of that?” He nearly scoffed. “Commonfolk don't read about the histories.”

She glared at him, narrowing her dark eyes. “I was raised by dragonkeepers. We are not so…uneducated.” It felt sour on her tongue to say, but it was true nonetheless. Commonfolk did not have the opportunity for education like the rich did. She and Tarkan were fortunate to be raised by the traditional dragonkeepers who were linguistic and quite educated in the histories.

He seemed to take her words to heart, humming in turn. “Why not, then?” He asked, referring to her previous harsh statement.

“Aegon the Conqueror himself.” She laid out. “The realm is worse for it—the Seven kingdoms were just fine being independent until he connected them.”

To her pleasure, Aemond did not immediately argue nor strike her down. “If you would rather live in a war-torn country, then be my guest.”

Saryna deadpanned, eyeing him from the corner of her peripherals. “I have. For the past two years.”

He tensed again, and Saryna nearly groaned at the lost progress. “I will not deny that those histories are intriguing, though. Maegor the Cruel and Aenys, Visenya and Rhaenys—I believe I have a soft spot for the doomed siblings.”

He smirked, glancing at the side of her face. “I have to agree on that front. Maegor and Visenya were the best options to lead the kingdoms, and they took it within their right.”

Shaking her head, “Aenys was Aegon’s eldest son. The throne was his birthright.”

“Birthrights are meaningless when the firstborn is unfit to rule.” The spite in his words told Saryna that he was not only speaking of Aenys and Maegor.

She leaned back into the pliant wood. “Very few are born leaders, much less kings.”

Aemond stayed silent, his grip tightening on his dagger. Eventually, after allowing her words to tumble around in his head, he firmly stated: “I was born to be both.”

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