#this whole thing is just bad first impressions the story

[being-of-rain]

Now that the whole series has been released, I binge relistened to all of Once and Future. And wrote down all my thoughts, of course.

Definitely the series' main problem is something that affects a lot of Big Finish; it wants to have a story arc, but clearly the writers barely planned with each other or put any effort into that aspect. There's no flow or natural build-up to the finale, unlike what the premise and first episode might lead you to expect. Without much of a compelling arc, the only thing the series has to mark it as a special occasion is its many cameos and crossovers ...but in order to have more of those than the average Big Finish series, they had to pack so many in that most episodes struggle to handle it (in one way or another).

As a series, it unfortunately adds up to less than the sum of its parts.

With all that said, it's a series that I enjoyed a lot more during my relisten, since I could adjust my expectations. I forgot my desire for a grand or satisfying larger story, and just took each standalone episode on its own merits. There's a varying level of quality, but overall its not as disappointing as I remembered.

I decided to rank the episodes from my least to most favourite, and write a paragraph on each one.

8. Time Lord Immemorial I was told this was added to the series at the last minute, and I believe it; it features the imminent destruction of every universe thanks to the use of the degeneration gun, and this little fact is not mentioned at any point before or afterwards. The plot is about a dull and generic all-powerful Time Lord fairytale with an incredibly convenient rhyme to tell everyone what to do. Not that anyone actually does much of anything in this episode. It's mostly descriptions of some impressive visuals and the trading of some half-hearted banter. The only thing of any substance at all in the story is the slightly interesting (though not as interesting as it could've been) relationship between the Lumiat and the Doctor, which is okay if you like that, and unfortunate if you wanted Liv and the Unbound Doctor to have any focus at all.

7. Two's Company This episode is the poster child of being assigned a long and truly random laundry list of characters by the producers. All elements of the episode feel like they're thrown together haphazardly, from the total disregard of the previous episodes' plot hook onwards. But the friendship of Jackie and Lady Christina, two of the least likely characters to be teamed up with the sixth Doctor, is perhaps the highlight of the episode (even though Jackie is written rather stereotypically). On the other hand, Harry Sullivan doesn't really add anything, and the bizarre introduction of The Two borders on the insulting. Back when The Eleven was first introduced, the audio took pains to note that his mental illness was not the cause of his villainy. Later authors seemed to have missed this memo, and none fly in the face of it as much as Two's Company. On top of it all, I think Lisa McMullin is just an author I do not vibe with. She's the only one who wrote two episodes of this series, and they're my two least favourite.

6. The Union I'm not a big fan of finales written by Matt Fitton, which is bad news for me because he's been Big Finish's Go-To Finale Guy for over a decade now. He always makes the plot a bit too busy and never quite lands the emotional moments for me. Once and Future's climactic episode gets a lot of fanservicey moments (some that I can enjoy and some that feel like an obligation), but the story arc that the series had been stumbling and crawling towards concludes with the Doctor winning a nonsensical moral argument about how he's fine with being and meeting himself, something that isn't demonstrated in this anniversary special and is contradicted in most others. The villain/s are a bizarre choice and rather unthreatening- but at least River and Susan are fun to listen to.

5. A Genius For War It's slightly baffling that in the middle of a series that flaunts its random character line-ups is a fairly standard Time War episode, with characters you'd expect to see in it (except for the Seventh Doctor I guess, but he doesn't feel that out of place in a Davros story like this.) I refrained from calling it a "bog-standard" Time War episode, because it does actually put some effort into being relevant to this series specifically, and is a fun little action movie to while away an hour (and celebrate the Doctor's longest-running alien foes in all their mediocre glory). Still, the fact that this ep is just before halfway through my ranking means that I enjoy this series more often than not.

4. Past Lives This is a charming episode, largely due to its fun cast of characters. It takes its time with its story, being literally halfway done by the time all the characters have been brought into the plot together, but I'm not saying it's badly paced. I'm certainly fine with it just giving us the Doctor and the Monk for the first 15 minutes. But the moment of this episode that always sticks in my head the most is the Doctor and Sarah reacting to all the pictures of the Doctors in Osgood's house, having a little bit of an existential crisis about it. It's amazing how taking even just a small break from the action for some genuine emotion can add to a story. See number 1 on this list for more. Oh I do wish it did more with the King Arthur/Once and Future theme though, especially seeing as it was what gave the series its name.

3. The Martian Invasion of Planetoid 50 Michelle Gomez and David Tennant are so good together. I don't have an awful lot more to say about this one, it's just solid entertainment. It's got great characterisation and a lot of funny lines. The episode really understood the Master when it said "Only one Time Lord would ever do something so mind-bogglingly, time-consumingly ridiculous."

2. Coda—The Final Act The final episode is second only to Two's Company in how random and long its list of returning characters is, but it handles them with much more grace and a satisfying story. I mean I do wish that Vienna Salvatori had a bigger role, but that's just because I'm a fan of her series, she works fine narratively (and there was a Jexie reference to appease me). Really my biggest complaint about this one is that it doesn't quite commit to the Doctor vs Doctor premise as much as I wish it would, with it all being a contrived trick, but it doesn't do that badly, it's fine. Wait, maybe my biggest complaint is the title: why give it two? Why not just call it Coda? Anyway, Bernice was a great choice for this episode, she's always been great at speaking her mind to the Doctor. And it was easy for me to forget this this is Jo Martin's first audio because she sounded so at home. Great stuff.

1. The Artist at the End of Time This might not be the episode I go back to listen to the most, but I think it is the best made, with the most time to breathe and the most coherent themes. (And it also happens to be the episode with the least amount of returning characters heaped upon it. What a coincidence.) The degeneration giving the Doctor something of an existential crisis, compounded by the end of the universe and the presence of the Curator, gives the series some much needed time to reflect on a key aspect of the franchise for its anniversary; the Doctor themself. It certainly works a lot better than whatever The Union tried to do in its last 15 minutes. Aside from all that, Five and Jenny and the Curator are just a rather sweet team to listen to, with an interesting problem to investigate and a lot of witty dialogue.

[spacedace]

Lois felt herself smile, fondness curling in her chest as she gave Titus a final pat and stood up to creep off to the kitchen while Sunny - or, Elle, rather it seemed - finished getting dressed. She still had a thousand and one questions as to just what was going on, why her son had hidden his significant other, and what exactly he was doing with Damian if he wasn’t actually dating his best friend - because she knew her son was in love with the youngest Wayne, and she was familiar enough with understanding emotionally constipated Bat to know that those feelings were returned - chief among those questions.

It was as she started the electric kettle for some tea and helped herself to the offered Sachima that the front door of the apartment splintered open and a heavily armed group of private guns came storming in.

Ah, right. The pharmaceutical company trying to hunt her down. She’d forgotten about them.

[howtodisappearcompletelyand]

20/10 stars little guy

[whumpshaped]

HOLY COW YOUR BIBLE POSTS

I’ve been Christian for 15 years and I never thought about the prophets as whumpees. I am enraptured by this take on the Bible.

Also, have you gotten to Jezebel yet? Her death is *chef’s kiss*

JEZEBEL IS ANOTHER FAVOURITE OF MINE YES. not as in omg i love her but as in wow amazing story. for anyone who doesnt know jezebel was prophesised to die and have her body be eaten by dogs so that she would never be buried. and thats exactly what happened. very very whumpy. and u know what? im not mad abt it at all bc she wanted to hurt my dear dear elijah... no one hurts my dear dear elijah.

im glad u like my bible posting :) ive been told my comments and opinions r... very fresh. a new perspective /j the thing is- yes im reading the bible but im also super super cynical abt it and i also have "must project onto the characters and must read it like its a YA novel" disease. like bc of my bad experience w religion i went into it Wanting to poke holes in it lol but the more i read the more i understand how it works. and the more i understand that most of the Bad Bible Things ive heard growing up were either completely taken out of context or straight up lies. its a little comforting ngl

[bobmckenzie]

every time I think about the backstory I made up for Danny and Becky's mom I have to laugh... the hoops I went through just so I could say they weren't in love with each other... 💀💀💀

[curryshesus]

jeon jungkook fics that had me going feral

hi guys, here's a part 2 to my favorite jjk fics on tumblr! note that many of these fics contain 18+ content. you are responsible for the content you consume! as always, if you enjoyed any of these fics as much as i did, please take a moment to send some love to the authors! part 1 | other bts members

➺ cold nights & blurred lines - by @awrkive

summary: jungkook and you have been in a sexual relationship with each other for four months now, and it’s casual for the most part. but as time passes, you can’t help but feel that some of the lines suddenly got blurred in the process. is it a cliché to blur the lines with your fuck buddy? it definitely is. will you do something about it? both of your emotional constipation have a hard time saying yes.

➺ night crawlers - by @alphabetboyluvr

summary: jungkook’s always been good at running. track, field, red lights, shit outta luck. drugs, now, too. but he doesn’t expect to run into you. in your shared lecture halls, sure. maybe. but not down the back alleys of daerim at ass o’clock in the morning. there are only three types of women he ever sees in daerim: hookers, sugar-babies and addicts. you aren't any of those; you're a trust-fund baby who can get percocet on private repeat prescription, if you really want it. he's sure of it. so it then further begs the question: why the fuck are you here?

➺ this is how you fall in love - by @jeonqkooks

summary: after years of drinking and clubbing most days of the week and leaving every gig with a different girl on his arm, jungkook feels what it’s like to want someone with his entire being.

➺ the dilf installments - by @mercurygguk

summary: this series follows jungkook’s life as a divorced father. but wait, how exactly does one balance being a father, a boyfriend, a friend, and a respectable boss at the same time? read the installments below to find out!

➺ ultimatum - by @parkmuse

summary: your pervy, idiotic boyfriend just so happens to also be your friendly neighborhood Spider-man (in bed).

➺ a hero's journey - by @hansolmates

summary: jungkook and jisoo are the mightiest power couple. however, one drunken confession and that whole facade fades in an instant. you realize that maybe you need to break from your unvaried life for a bit and be the hero of your own love story

➺ tempest - by @kooktrash

summary: you’ve always considered your life to be more mundane than you would like to admit. it was a constant cycle of the same things over and over again that when you meet jeon jungkook at a bar, of all places, you didn’t expect to see just how much he would change your life and those around you. he’s got an air of mystery around him with his charming good looks and a violent past that you slowly begun to unravel when it feels like everything is going perfect.

➺ by its cover - by @gimmesumsuga

summary: the one where Jungkook makes a horrifically bad first impression.

➺ slow dancing - by @yoonia

summary: when your countdown appeared on your wrist right in the morning of your eighteenth birthday, you had thought that perhaps the universe was on your side, especially since the final seconds were already ticking so soon. You just never expected to have your first meeting with your soulmate to be the day when you had to let him go. But hope was not lost when you still found love without the bond, and Jungkook showed you that it was possible to find happiness beyond the system that was written for you. Except that the universe doesn’t seem to have enough of its game, when your past sacrifice comes back hitting you straight in the face, just when you had believed that you had written off the perfect ending to your bittersweet tale.

➺ e s p r e s s o - by @joonberriess

➺ hold me closer - by @ahundredtimesover

summary: when you're asked to look after your parents' house and meet them before they go on vacation, you, Jimin, and Jungkook take the trip to your hometown of Busan and relive memories of your youth. While your new relationship has you feeling like a lovesick teenager with all the affection that Jungkook shows you, you're still you - a professional trying to make it in the corporate world, and an eldest child trying not to disappoint her parents. And that turns out to be your undoing, as a little blunder causes a rift between you and Jungkook, resulting in a trip that you might as well have messed up… Not if your brother can help it, though.

[cutebat]

You know what, fuck it. I'm going to write my own neglectful yandere batfamily cause everyone else is doing it, but I'm going to do it in a different way.

Yandere Batfam x Neglected, but Defiant Reader

Prologue (Diary Entry)

Warning(s): Mentions of yandere themes, neglect, emotional abuse, mentions of physical abuse, forcing to drop out, attempted guilt tripping, reader is just venting out her feelings

(I made this in the reader's POV to make the whole 'diary entry' thing more sense.)

~~~~~

July 22, 2024

It's funny when someone tells their story.

Only to be told back that it's unrealistic.

Almost as if they're afraid to believe it's real...

Oh, God, that sounded dark.

~~~~~

For everyone who doesn't know,

Bruce is a billionaire who's also a shitty dad

Dick is a dick, like actually

Jason uses his trauma to let all his frustrations on me

Tim is a delusional bitch

Cass was okay until she knocked me to the ground

Damian is just a thing who you want to burn to ashes

Alfred... I guess is just Alfred

~~~~~

I was basically raised as what people would call a 'black sheep'. Kind of like... actually, I don't need to explain all that.

Basically, I was adopted by the infamous Bruce Wayne when I was ten for whatever reason. After the first day of living with him and the family and giving me the new role of Batgirl, everyone just pretended as if I didn't exist.

I tried to interact with every one of them and all I got were "sorry, can't talk right now" and "can you shut up".

Like, WHAT THE FUCK DID I DO TO THEM?!

Is it because I'm prettier than all of them and had barely any trauma in my past? Seriously, why are people so jealous about these kinds of things?

Bruce really signed all that paperwork for nothing.

Of course, my little ten year old brain would think that if I tried to impress all of them with what I could do, maybe I could gain their attention.

So by the time I was twelve with my ten year old mindset goal in my head, I did nine different after school activities, won over fifteen awards for my achievements, and went out to patrol at least six nights a week.

And none of that worked! Those fuckers wouldn't even spare me a glance!

~~~~~

After a while, you don't see a point in trying your best.

I dropped out of most of the clubs I regret joining, I just laid back in my classes, and most of all...

I quit being Batgirl.

I didn't want to, but like I said, where's the point in that?

So with that, I just gave up on everything and just... stopped trying.

~~~~~

But then one year all of that almost changed?

For the first time ever, I found myself suddenly really pretty, and after a month I entered eighth grade, I was suddenly asked out by one guy, then two, and all the way up to ten!

It was like really cool!

The popular girls became my best friends, more guys would ask me out, and the teachers started pointing out that I was their favorite student, even the ones who weren't my teachers.

It felt like I was on top of everything. That I was special. The world is revolving around me.

Finally, I was in a place to build a great reputation.

And then life was like FUCK THAT!

~~~~~

After the first semester of eighth grade, Bruce was weirdly in my room and he said wanted to have a 'talk' with me.

So, during this talk, he was basically talking about the last three years of me being neglected by him and his family. To be honest, I forgot everything he told me, but honestly, I don't really care.

He also told the others about all this and now they suddenly feel bad which I don't give a shit about. But, I knew he was doing all this to guilt trip me, which was honestly so stupid.

Now, after he dropped that bomb, he told me that I had to drop out of school to do some "bonding time" with the others along with him and the people who actually cared about me didn't really matter at all!

I JUST GOT SETTLED IN!

All I said was "FUCK YOU" and just stormed out of my room with the only thing that I took was my diary that I had for quite a while that I never used before.

~~~~~

So, yeah. I'm currently in the attic, venting my feelings all out on this stupid glitter diary with a random pen that I found on the ground.

But whatever.

It doesn't matter.

Nothing matters...

My life is just a game.

A sick, hopeless game.

[smutoperator]

Wife's Revenge

Krystal Jung "Mrs. Soojung", "Vicky" Jang Wonyoung x Male Reader

Part of Legends series

Tags: anal reluctance, ass eating, belly bulging, (lots of) blowjobs, cheater, creampie, domination, DSLs, facial, fast-paced sex, good-flavoring holes, it girls, leg-shaking orgasms, (some) lesbian, prostitutes, recording, revenge, riding, sex toys, strip club, threesome, tied-up, voyeurism, wife/mistress, wigs

Word count: 9546.

It's yet another night where you have arrived late. The days go by, and it seems like each day you get home a couple minutes later than before. Your wife rarely sees you these days, just when you go to bed and get up.

But wives know when things are unusual; they always do. And it's no different with Mrs. Soojung, your beautiful spouse that is on the verge of turning 30, and just like that, it feels like you don't want her anymore.

At this point, most wives would have already confronted their man. But Mrs. Soojung behaves differently. Either she doesn't seem to care about your late-night escapades or she's plotting something behind your back. Either way, you feel like you'll know it soon.

Your wife's birthday is coming up soon. You have to buy something for her out of appeasement at least, but your head these days is on the much younger girl you have been going out with lately.

Too bad Mrs. Soojung knows it too.

One day, without you noticing, she picks up your phone and starts texting the girl you're dating behind her back, a very young woman in her early 20s that just goes by the name of "Vicky.".

"Meet me at my place," Vicky texts you—well, your wife, actually—who exchanges messages with her and gets to see your whole story of torrid texts and even a couple dick pics in between that you sent to Vicky.

Mrs. Soojung finally arrives at Vicky's place, finding the girl that her husband was cheating on her with just chilling by her bed. She has to hold herself back. She clearly wants to smack Vicky in two pieces, but shows some restraint because she knows it's not her fault; her husband is a prick and needs to be dealt with.

"Vicky, interesting, I used to have a friend called Victoria," Mrs. Soojung says, reminding herself of the times she used to be Vicky's age. "The smell of your perfume—it's the same my husband has been carrying for months," Mrs. Soojung tells Vicky.

"I'm just a professional; they come with the money; we give them sex; I can't think about the feelings of their wives. Your husband isn't the first married man that I had as a client—far from it, actually," Vicky answers. 

Mrs. Soojung is truly impressed with the way Vicky carries herself. "How old are you?" she asks. "20," Vicky answers. Mrs. Soojung is surprised. She thought she would be much older, but at such a young age, Vicky seems to be a quite mature woman.

"You know, Vicky, my birthday is tomorrow." Mrs. Soojung says. "What gift do you want? Vicky asks. "Revenge," Mr. Soojung answers.

"For the right money, I can give you that," Vicky answers.

Mrs. Soojung hesitates but pays Vicky. The sex worker already has a plan drawn up in her mind. "Meet me at the strip club tonight," she says. "Here's your wig and your carnival mask," she continued, giving Mrs. Soojung her disguise.

Mrs. Soojung celebrated her birthday with you. The gift you gave her was rather unusual—fishnets. "I think you'll look very sexy in them," you told her. Soojung seemed to agree. 

"Sorry, I have to go, late business meeting," you told your wife. "I wish I could stay for your birthday," you told Soojung. "It's fine," she answered. The plan was set in motion.

Soojung knew exactly where you were going. Vicky messaged her directly. "Get ready," she texted. Vicky picked Soojung up in your house, and the two rushed to arrive at the strip club before you could get there.

"You look beautiful in this outfit," Vicky told Mrs. Soojung, who was wearing the fishnet you just had gifted her, a blonde wig slightly different from Vicky's own, glasses, and a nice lingerie. She barely had any friends, and that prostitute of all people seems to be kinder to her than any person in her circle besides her sister. Soojung still had some mistrusting about Vicky but was clearly embracing her partner-by-accident.

Vicky was the first to leave the room; the two were backstage. Loud rap music played in the club's background. Vicky was truly an intimidating presence. Her tall and skinny frame got even better when she put her high heels on and prepared herself for another performance.

You were already sitting at the strip club watching the opening performances, throwing a couple dollar bills for the girls trying to make it, until the announcement that you were looking for was made.

"Ladies and gentlemen, we're proud to present another performance of the great Vicky Jang," the announcer said at the speakers. Vicky slowly climbed upstage, her high heels making loud sounds. She looked at you in the eye, took off the jacket she was wearing, and started her performance, flaunting her long legs as she made moves around the pole in the center of the stage.

Vicky's long legs were always a highlight of her performances. She sat on the floor and started spreading them in front of you. Her pussy was enticigly close, within reach of your hands. You started dropping the first dollar bills, but Vicky ignored them and just kept performing. Truly a pro, once she's onstage all she cares about is hitting her moves perfectly, and she was pulling one heck of a pole dancing before leaving closer to you as you put more bills on the stage. 

Vicky's performance quickly turned into a solo show for you as she got on her knees and touched herself right in front of you. She leaned her head in your direction, showing her tall body for you, who nearly touched her mid-performance. More moves with her legs, and she climbed offstage, circling around you and then covering your eyes with her hands, before whispering some words in your ear.

"I know today is your wife's birthday, but the gift will be yours tonight," she told you.

Vicky uncovered your eyes, and a different blonde girl appeared on your sight. "Her name is Krystal," Vicky said to you. She gave you quite the welcome, pointing her high heels straight to your heart before climbing off the stage and sitting on your lap. You touched her butt and sensed the fishnets she was wearing, very reminiscent of the ones you had just gifted your wife. 

Krystal and Vicky danced together on stage. It was the first time Krystal was performing at a strip club, but Vicky could tell she had some good stage presence, wondering if she had done any kind of performance before, as unlikely as it sounded for a typical housewife. Vicky climbed up the pole and went upside down, while Krystal went on all fours seducing you, before Vicky decided to pull a killer move.

Climbing down the pole, Vicky moved in your direction and wrapped her long legs around your face. You could feel the amazing smell coming out of her pussy. She was just the most beautiful woman in the world. You felt a little guilty but couldn't help but think of leaving your wife and marrying Vicky on some uninhabited island and living there with her forever.

Krystal massaged you from behind as you watched Vicky before making a move and sitting on your lap, shoving you in Vicky's direction right at the angle where the stripper's pussy touched your forehead. 

Now things were going to heat up. Krystal unbuttoned your shirt, and the two started moving like crazy towards you. Both girls are ready to take on you at any second. Your heartbeat fastened like crazy. The girls took a couple pieces off their lingeries, and Krystal pushed Vicky towards your lap, where she started grinding on you. Krystal herself started grinding on Vicky and kissing the young stripper; she was so beautiful she couldn't help herself. Vicky truly activated some of her woman-loving instincts.

Krystal took the money you had left onstage and placed it on her fishnets. Her and Vicky headed backstage, plotting their next move. "He's on his knees already; it's time to attack," Vicky told your wife. 

Vicky sent her friend Elizabeth to extract as much money as possible from you. "He wants to pay an extra thousand dollars to continue the session," Liz reported to her. "Not enough," Vicky responded. "Now he's offering two thousand," Liz said after another check. "We want more," Vicky answered. Krystal was truly impressed at how Vicky could easily fleece any guy; she was truly that girl.

"Five thousand," Liz then said. "Done deal," Vicky said, going back to you with Krystal. "Here's the money," you told Vicky, offering her the $5,000. "It's five thousand for her too," she said, pointing to Krystal. You were recluctant, but you just couldn't say no to Vicky. "Okay," you answered as the money was flying out of your pocket. Krystal was smiling, enjoining the way Vicky had you on your knees.

The girls began moving, kissing you as they sat around your lap; both took turns grinding on your lap as the three of you shared kisses, including some torried triple kisses. Krystal gave Vicky's butt a little spanking as the young prostitute was making out with you. The two then had a few intimate moments with each other as both of you kept tapping Vicky's butt before you couldn't resist and decided to join them again. 

Krystal's bra nearly fell off as you moved more aggressively, before she decided to take it off and put up a show, making out with Vicky. "You wanna join us?" she asked. "Yes," you answered. "Then pay some more," she replied, quickly learning the teachings of Vicky.

Krystal spread Vicky's long legs and started eating the young girl's pussy. Vicky moaned softly as you kissed her and watched your wife dive in her pussy. "Eat that pussy, please," you told Krystal. As she was getting eaten out, Vicky reached into your clothed pants and caressed your cock. Krystal truly had a nice, plump ass, very fuckable, something you missed doing as Vicky had never allowed you in her ass and your wife hadn't done that in ages.

You took your cock off your pants, letting Vicky jerk it off as Krystal kept eating Vicky's pussy. Krystal quickly took notice of it and joined the young hooker. "It's so nice," she said. "We can suck it for some extra money," she continued, and you soon obliged to her demand.

Before Krystal could suck your cock, you dove into her already bare tits, sniffing and sucking them. For some reason, they reminded you of your wife, who was most likely sleeping at the moment, as the clock had already hit way past midnight. You kept kissing Krystal's tits and sucking them like a baby, prompting Vicky to also have some fun and take her bra off, allowing Krystal to grab your cock all by herself while Vicky's little tits entertained you.

Krystal sucked your cock, and you were already groaning. "Oh god," you said. You had been cheating on your wife for years and had yet to find a girl that sucked cock better than her, but now you had two, Krystal and Vicky, after searching for so long. "Damn, she's so good at this," you said to Vicky in between kisses.

"Yes, she's a longtime veteran of sucking the biggest cocks," Vicky said, praising Krystal before taking her turn on your cock herself. "You really stepped your game up after I praised your friend," you told her as Vicky made sure to give you a top-notch blowjob while Krystal had fun counting all those money bills you were leaving on their table.

"Oh fuck yes," you groaned as Vicky was hitting all the right spots. Krystal looked at her and got why that young girl had you on your knees. She was really good at that. Grabbing your balls, she added to the cock torture you had to endure, giggling as you tried to resist.

Krystal snatched your cock from Vicky's mouth and took some extra sucking of it, both girls fighting hard for that big shaft now but also cooperating a lot as Krystal handed your cock to Vicky multiple times for her to suck and bob her head all over it. "FUCK, FUCK," it was all you could scream as these two succubus drained your soul.

You laid your head on the sofa as you felt weaker than ever, while Krystal kept stroking your cock harder than ever. Vicky came in as you helped take her panties off while Krystal was devouring your dick like a demon. Vicky sat on your face as you sniffed her pussy, trying to cope with the increased pressure Krystal put on your shaft, the two kissing each other as they loved dominating you.

Vicky moaned hard as your tongue hit her folds. Krystal just kept doing what she was doing, engaging in countless deepthroats that were driving you insane. She then pushed Vicky's head against your cock, bobbing it on it as you two were now performing a 69. You pushed your hips upwards, attempting to fuck Vicky's face with the strength you had left, while savoring her pretty young pussy.

Krystal was in full control of your cock, stroking it as your tongue started to make Vicky cum; she loved the way the young girl moaned, inserting herself with some kisses between it, while never losing sight of your cock. Vicky collected some money while you turned your attention to Krystal, pulling her panties down and ripping her fishnets under Vicky's watch.

Vicky's seized the opportunity and licked Krystal's asshole. Her anus had long been a forbidden area for any stimulation, but maybe things were just being done wrong because Vicky's tongue made Krystal feel a sensation she hadn't felt in over a decade. Maybe she could open an exception for today because there was truly no bad thing Vicky could do; she was truly very skilled at eating any kind of ass.

"Ohhh fuck," Krystal moaned as Vicky kept eating her ass while strocking your cock. She nearly lost her breath as Vicky awoke her long, dormant anal folds. "AHHHHHHHH, FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK," she screamed as Vicky kept going, forcing her to turn around just not to have an anal orgasm.

Vicky showcased her talents, challenging Krystal as the two girls fought for your cock. "I want more; give me more," you told them as both licked your tip. "You want more?" Vicky asked. "Yes, I want everything; take all my money and give me everything," you answered. 

"Alright baby," Krystal says, opening her legs and ripping the remnants of her fishnets as you slowly inserted your cock in her pussy. "OHHHHH, my fucking..." she moaned, unable to finish the sentence as you and Vicky teamed up and started licking her nipples. Krystal slowly bounced, getting louder and louder. It was the same cock she had been bounced on for years, to mixed results, but something about Vicky had truly awakened the beast inside her; that girl was truly incredible.

Vicky massaged Krystal's pussy as she kept bouncing it on your cock. Krystal kept moaning hard, overstimulated in a way she hadn't felt in years. "Don't stop, don't stop," you told her. And indeed, Krystal didn't stop, riding your cock faster as she slowly regained a long-lost confidence. Vicky was always by her side, helping her feel the most possible pleasure as her hands kept working on Krystal's cunt.

"Come here," you told Krystal, making her wig and mask nearly fall off and almost ruining her disguise. But she stayed put and took the maximum pleasure possible from your cock. Krystal kissed you and let you pound her in a pearly gates position, wondering why you had never tried it with her in bed. "Does he only try those kinds of positions on prostitutes?" she thought.

"JESUS CHRIST, AHHHHHHH," Krystal screamed as the teamwork between your cock and Vicky's hand put her closer to a huge orgasm. "AHHHHHHHHH, FUCKKKKKK," she kept screaming. "Come on, slut, bounce on that," you dared her. Krystal accepted the challenge and did just that. "YES, YES, YES, YES," Krystal kept moaning. It was the same cock that had fucked her for years, but Vicky's presence in that room had turned things in a way she could never expect.

Krystal explodes in a massive orgasm as she closes her legs and coats your cock full of juices. "Come eat that pussy from my dick," you invite her, but Krystal is so out of breath it's Vicky who takes the prize all by herself. Krystal instead makes a rather unusual decision, licking Vicky's ass, trying to counter pleasure with some disgust.

But damn, she was very wrong.

As Krystal's dive into Vicky's ass, a beautiful scent of roses penetrates her nostrils. "Wtf is that? Assholes are supposed to be dirty," she thinks. But Vicky is nothing like the regulars; she's a truly special girl.

Vicky keeps sucking your cock as Krystal shoves her ass in your face for her to eat her asshole out. What started as some rare moment had truly turned into a kink. You obviously happily took it; after all, if your wife never lets you eat her ass but a prostitute happily does it, then good for you.

"Seems like you really want to sit on that dick the way you're sucking it," you tell Vicky. "Of course," she answers, staying with it in her mouth all the time. Shortly after, Vicky sits her tight young cunt in your cock.

"Let me see, let me see." Vicky is already begging for your cock as she adjusts it into her entrance. "Wow, that's so hot," Krystal tells her as they kiss each other. Vicky lets out a soft moan as Krystal licks her neck, beginning her bounce on your cock.

"That's right, use that cock," you tell Vicky as she starts riding that dick. Her slow ride is like poetry in motion, her hitting the perfect spots on your cock while sharing kisses with Krystal under the lights of the strip club.

"Yeah, yeah, come on, keep going," you tell Vicky as she increases her pace, her riding getting sexier and sexier, while she keeps kissing Krystal at all moments. Krystal then drops down, kissing you and letting Vicky ride your cock all by herself, her moans getting louder and echoing all around the club.

Vicky now bounces really fast, prompting you to thrust upwards to meet her bounces. "Yeahhhh," she moans. "Twerk that ass on my cock," you tell her, and she does it perfectly, with an amazing pace that drives you nuts, Krystal looking at her eye to eye and getting quite impressed by her riding skills despite Vicky being very young.

"OH YES YES YES YES YES YES," Vicky says in a fast way that is nearly in sync with her bounces. She giggles, stretching her long arms into your torso and making sideways moves that get your cock throbbing even harder, before beding herself in the direction of Krystal's pussy and eating it out, allowing you to push up her cunt while she eats Krystal's.

"I love this; give me the taste of it, you way, letting Vicky ride you while she eats Krystal, and then kisses you to taste Krystal's amazing ice cream-flavored pussy while never ceasing to bounce up and down that big cock. "Come on, come on," you encourage Vicky as she rides you like a baddie.

Vicky is truly amazing and is exactly her energy that brings the best from you and Krystal; her licks in the other stripper's pussy making her moan hard and putting her on the verge of cumming; her bouncing on your cock making you feel blessed to have such an amazing girl to please you.

"AHHHHHH, AHHHHHHH, OHHHHHH," Krystal starts moaning as she pushes Vicky's face into her cunt, ready to explode at any second. Despite being buried on it, Vicky remains calm and collected, keeping a steady pace as she pleases your cock. "That's it, baby, come earn your reward and suck that dick," you tell her, leaving Krystal by herself to enjoy her moaning orgasms while Vicky tastes her cherry-flavored pussy from your cock.

But Krystal doesn't want you to give your whole attention to the young stripper, sitting on your face as she gives her pussy for you to eat out. The two girls now battle to see which one you like the most, but you just enjoy the ride and let them duel without giving them any clues over who's winning.

Both girls show why they are such great professionals, Vicky bobbing her head hard on your cock while Krystal grinds her folds on your face at a great pace. There isn't a second you don't go without being overwhelmed by these two beauties, panting and moaning all the time trying to survive.

"Licky my balls," you order to Vicky while Krystal jumps on top of you, takes your shaft in her mouth, and performs a 69. "Yeah, yeah, like that," you tell them, the girls sucking the soul out of you like a pair of crazy succubus. "This is so good; I feel so lucky having two girls fighting for my fucking cock," you tell them.

Krystal gets on her knees on the couch, allowing you to put your cock back in her pussy. Vicky gets by her side, and they kiss each other. "OH GOD," Krystal moans as you push your cock hard into her pussy without any breaks, grabbing her waist to take her at a fast pace, as she clings to Vicky to take the pounding you give her, but not without lots of moaning. Vicky kisses you and leaves Krystal all by herself, screaming. "AHHHH, AHHHHHH, YEAHHHHH, YEAHHHH," she says, her eyes rolling as you spank her butt.

As Krystal quickly gets out breath, Vicky quickly takes her pace, getting fucked similarly, but she's the one that advances into Krystal as you take your cock deep inside her, kissing the other strip in perfect sync with your thrusts, slowly lowering her head to eat Krystal out, giving amazing orgasms to her and making her moan all over the couch, as Krystal closes her eyes and her nipples get more and more erected while Vicky buries her face in her cunt.

Vicky looks at Krystal while you pump her hard, making the other stripper cum while her pussy gets stretched out. Krystal gets on top of Vicky's butt and licks get pussy as you keep fucking her, taking a couple turns to lube your cock with Krystal's mouth. "Lick that asshole while I fuck her pussy," you tell Krystal, who obliges and slowly starts falling in love with the taste of Vicky's butthole.

"Good girl, now suck it and clean that cock," you tell Krystal. "Look at you, such a beautiful and fuckable ass," you tell Vicky as you spank her butt and keep fucking her, kissing Krystal in a way that makes you remind of your wife. You then grab Vicky's hair. "Come here," you tell her, pushing her face into Krystal as they keep kissing each other and fucking her like an animal, making her cheeks clap hard and her legs work hard.

"Come back," you tell Krystal, letting her bounce on your cock while Vicky suck her fellow stripper's tits. "OHHHHH," Krystal moans loudly but accepts the challenge of bouncing on your big cock, even if it quickly leaves her getting out of breath. You put her body on the floor, switching to a piledriver position that allows for very deep penetration. "OHHHHH, OHHHHH, OHHHH JESUS CHRIST," Krystal screams as she is now upside down, you and Vicky looking from above at a very dominating spot while her back gets pressed to the floor at each pounding you give her.

"Let me work that fucking pussy, you slut," you tell Krystal. Vicky comes in, and Krystal learns about her magic hands. "OH FUCKKKKK!" she screams as soon as Vicky places her hands on her clit. You end up having mercy for Krystal, as she can barely stand a couple minutes in that position, switching your attention back to Vicky for another round of bouncing.

Krystal rims your asshole trying to get back on her senses after such a crazy pounding, while Vicky entertains herself using your cock as her playground. Krystal looks from above, amazed and trying to understand how such a young girl can be such a pro at dickriding, taking your big cock like nothing and pulverizing it as she impales herself on it. She looks at her cheeks and just watches your cock disappear between them, licking your balls as her admiration for Vicky only grows.

"FUCK, FUCK," you say as Vicky once again pushes you to the edge. You instincively spank her ass, but it amounts to nothing; Vicky just devours your cock, and her ride only gets more insane. "OH SHIT!" you scream as one of her bounces gets close to snapping your cock in half.

In the end, you have to shove Vicky to the side just not to cum, turning your eyes back into Krystal. "That's way too much," you tell Vicky, who just laughs. Krystal chimes in and sucks your cock, getting to know better of the cherry-like flavors of Vicky's pussy.

"Let me see you lick that pussy," you tell Krystal as she gets on her knees and eats Vicky out while you jerk off to the scene. Vicky opens her mouth wide and moans, enjoying the way Krystal attacks her folds. You really like the curves of Krystal's body and her well-shaped butt, enhanced as she's in primed position to get taken from behind.

"I love the way you lick that pussy," you tell Krystal. "YEAHHHH, YEAHHHHH," a trembling Vicky screams as Krystal keeps licking her. "Look at her face, so slutty, she is really enjoying it," you say. Your words encourage Krystal, who pushes further and dives her fingers into Vicky's wet fuckhole, thrusting them as if she had a strap attached to herself and pounding the young prostitute until her hands are completely covered of Vicky's juices.

"Don't hide her face; I wanna see her moans," you tell Krystal, who gets back down and dives back to eat Vicky out. You watch both and increase the pace of your masturbation, getting closer and closer to cumming. You can't resist the urge of Krystal's fuckholes staring at you and pushing your cock back in her pussy, fucking her as hard as you can and burying her face all the way down Vicky's vagina.

"Open your legs, Vicky, let me watch her lick your pussy," you command as you increase the pace against Krystal. The heat of her tightening cunt gets you even closer, as both girls are now moaning messes ready to explode at any second. Vicky stretches her feet as you lick them while pounding Krystal hard and making her beg for god, giving her hard spanks in her butt.

You push Krystal to the side and decide to lead Vicky to an orgasm yourself. "AHHHHHH, AHHHHHH, AHHHHHHH," she screams as if a baby is being expelled from her womb. As if this wasn't enough, you take your cock back in her pussy and pound it. Vicky just opens her legs and moans, Krystal coming from behind and stroking your shaft as you pound Vicky hard. 

"Come on, come on, come on, suck it," you use Krystal's mouth as you lube your cock to fuck Vicky. Krystal jumps over and kisses the young stripper, and then you enjoy the animalesque way you two have sex. You switch back to Krystal, opening her legs and groping her tits, her clinging to Vicky not to let out loud moans as her nipples get even more erect. Very out of breath, her walls clench around your cock, forcing you to hold back, not to cum.

"Get down," you tell them, actually showing where you want to cum, jerking off your cock until you bust right at Krystal's face. Her face painted white while she swapped your sperm in her mouth with Vicky, and then taking your money home was the last thing you remembered before someone came from behind and knocked you uncounciously.

As you regain your sight, you find yourself blindfolded and unable to move your body. Your hands and legs are tied up to a chair. "Help me, help me, please," you say. "Please," you keep going. You can hear a pair of lips touching each other and kissing; wonder who is beside you. A pair of hands take your tie off.

"Show me, take control of him," a girl's voice says. Shortly after, you get smacked in the face, still blindfolded. "That's so funny," the woman who slapped you says. "Who's in charge now? Not you. Who's the boss? Not you," the woman says. "I'm so sick of your cheating ways," she continues.

You can recognize your wife, Mrs. Soojung's voice, but who's the other girl beside her? Why are they doing this? "Ohhh, baby, don't cry," Soojung tells you, enjoying the punishment she gives you. I guess that's what she wants for her birthday—punishing you after finding out you were with two girls at a strip club.

Soojung keeps giggling as she slowly starts taking your shirt off. Both girls massage your torso and spank it. The other girl rubs her little tits against you, making you wonder if you hadn't touched them yet; they surely feel familiar. "Tell us how nice they are," Soojung yells at you, as she also shoves hers down your mouth for you to lick before spanking you again for daring to do so.

"You're all yours; come with us," Soojung tells you as she keeps spanking your torso. The other girl films you as you stay tied to the chair. "I'm gonna fuck the shit out of you like a demon; punish you for cheating on me with those prostitutes," Soojung keeps saying. "Kiss her," the other girl demands as Soojung pushes you closer to her lips before spitting in your mouth.

Both girls kiss each other in front of you. "Kiss my ass, you worthless cheater," Soojung demands, and you oblige, kissing the clothed fabric that covers her butt. Soojung starts grinding on your lap, making your erection start to build up again. "Enjoy it and appreciate her," the other girl tells you. Soojung reaches with her hands, rubbing your cock while her tits rub against your torso.

"Don't you want this? Filming a fucking sex tape with your wife on her birthday?" the other girl asks, pointing the camera she's holding towards Soojung and you making out. You giggle, thinking it is indeed quite hot. "I've been waiting to do this for a long time," Soojung tells you. "But you never said that before," you reply to her.

Soojung pulls your pants down. "Look at how hot she is; oh wait, you can't see her," the other girl pranks you. Your cock comes up already throbbing from your underwear, with Soojung's fellow partner in crime coming to suck it first, giving you a sexy blowjob that also doesn't feel unfamiliar to you, but you, dumb as a rock, can't recognize where it comes from. Soojung then takes her turn, bobbing her head hard on your cock without using her hands.

"Perfect, lick it like an ice cream," the other girl says as Soojung savors the tip of your cock. She closes her eyes and enjoys every second of it while the other girl keeps filming it. "Tell her how good she sucks your cock," the girl demands of you, just as Soojung pulls of a crazy deepthroat.

"Do you love that?" the other girl asks. "Of course," you tell them. "I didn't hear it, louder," the other girl tells you, bobbing Soojung's head against your cock. "I love it," you answer just as the other girl now massages your balls and tries to edge you to the fullest.

"Oh fuck, fuck," you groan as the other girl takes your cock deep in her warm mouth. Her dick sucking lips push your cock to the limit, you having to push as hard as you can just not to cum at the spot. "You know it feels good, doesn't it?" Soojung asks. "I don't think I'll be able to resist," you tell her. "Poor boy," she replies, giggling.

The other girl finally takes your blindfold, and you recognize her at the spot, even though her blonde wig she usually wears is not there but rather her natural brunette hair. "Vicky?" you say shorlty after looking at your wife and wondering how she found out. "Wait, that stripper, Krystal, was you all along?" you ask your wife.

"Such a dumb boy, isn't he?" Soojung laughs as she asks Vicky. "Also, you can call her by her real name now, Jang Wonyoung, while you can call me Krystal now; since you had so many encounters with her, it seemed like she was your wife and I was your prostitute," a mad Soojung tells you.

Krystal deepthroats you again, showing she wasn't being out of character when she did it multiple times at that strip club. Wonyoung had made Krystal discover her long-lost potential of being a slut, and now she was going to unleash it to the fullest, like the angry wife that she was. Wonyoung spat on your dick and kept making Krystal push harder and harder, your wife answering every single call from that baddie slut.

Wonyoung and Krystal team up to suck the tip of your cock, making you have flashbacks from your time at the strip club, their tongues sending you over the moon as they run all over your veiny cock, giggling and enjoying edging you as hard as they can while kissing each other. Krystal then gets on all fours and lets Wonyoung lick her asshole while trash talking you. "Her tongue is so amazing in my ass. Why can you be as good as her licking my ass?" she asks.

Krystal moans loudly as she dives to suck your cock further while Wonyoung keeps licking her ass. As you three engage in that oral train, for the first time in years, Krystal thinks of having your cock inside her ass, given the amazing work Wonyoung's tongue is doing with it and making her desire for further anal stimulation, despite her longtime reluctance.

"A cunt massaging another," Krystal says as Wonyoung reaches lower and puts her fingers in your wife's pussy. "You got it right, I'm a cunt, and your husband is a massive asshole," Wonyoung replies. The chemistry between her and Krystal is unmatched; the two hardly have met each other, but Krystal loves how Wonyoung is able to pick the perfect spots in her body and stimulate her better than you ever could over all these years.

More and more, Krystal opens herself up for Wonyoung's touch, letting the young girl eat her out wonderfully. Krystal always enjoyed those kinds of lesbian fantasies but rarely let other girls eat her out, with a few exceptions such as her sister or Amber, which are very much part of her innermost circle. But that unknown girl was doing such wonders to her body that she didn't hesitate, letting Wonyoung's tongue run wild over her clit and make it squirt in front of you.

"Are you enjoying the show, baby?" Krystal asks you. "Look how sexy her tongue looks licking my beautiful pussy," she continues, praising Wonyoung at any chance she gets. "I think I'll become a lesbian; her tongue is so much better in my pussy than your cock," she continues, keeping the trash taking going. "And you can't do anything to stop it, baby, all tied up and just watching my cunt squirt all over her pretty face," Krystal continues.

"OH FUCK YES, YES, YES, DON'T YOU FUCKING STOP," Krystal moans as Wonyoung does her magic with her tongue, putting your wife on the verge of cumming and gushing all over her face while you can just watch. "AH, AH, AH, AH," Krystal moans loudly in a way that she hadn't done to you in a while. "You know what? I think she earned a reward," she says.

Krystal takes Wonyoung's panties off and dives to eat her pussy. She gets marveled at Wonyoung's incredible taste, quickly getting addicted the deeper she takes her tongue in the young girl's cunt. Wonyoung looks at you and sees you're jerking off to the scene. "You love watching it, slave," she tells you. The girls are soon scissoring each other and moaning very loud, leaving you in awe as their juices get the wooden floor incresingly slippery.

Krystal finger-fucks Wonyoung's cunt and teases her. "Do you want my husband's cock fucking you like that?" your wife asks her. "YES, PLEASE, DON'T STOP, EAT MY PUSSY LIKE THE FUCKING BITCH I AM," Wonyoung answers screaming, loving the quick but soft touch Krystal's fingers provide. Your wife goes crazier and crazier, putting Wonyoung's body on your lap while she eats her out and making your cock rub against the young girl's soft skin.

"Tell him where my tongue is," Krystal asks Wonyoung. "In my ass, I love it," Wonyoung says. Slowly but surely Krystal was opening up to kinks that she used to refuse, all because Wonyoung was so incredible she felt wrong for not using her to the fullest, getting enamored by the young girl and treating her like an it girl of sex.

Wonyoung shakes her ass cheeks as Krystal dives her tongue between them. It was what your wife needed to be fully convinced. She starts spanking the young girl's butt and gets more and more in love with it, shoving her middle finger up Wonyoung's anus just to hear her beautiful moans, and then pulling out to taste it. "Damn, this is the tastiest butthole I've ever seen," she says. "You know what it deserves for tasting so good? To sit on my husband's dirty fucking cock," she continues.

As soon as she gets Krystal's authorization, Wonyoung climbs on your lap, taking your cock up her ass in one go. The loud moan she lets out makes Krystal believe she won't be able to take it, just like she hasn't in many years. But that's not the case; far from it.

"OH FUCK!" Wonyoung screams as your massive cock impales her ass, but she's determined to bounce as fast as she can. Krystal watches her as a mix of both a motherly figure and a curious woman learning from a young slut. She can't resist and grabs Wonyoung's cheeks, pushing your cock deeper and faster up her tight asshole. Wonyoung moans are loud, but her determination to take your cock trumps everything else.

"FUCK IT, FUCK IT, FUCK IT!" Krystal screams as she spanks Wonyoung's butt, but the more she does it, the harder Wonyoung rides it. Maybe it's her young age; maybe she does it every night, but what a crazy rider Wonyoung is. Krystal had caught a glimpse of it at the strip club, but that was with her pussy; it turned out she could do both holes with ease and destroy any cock that goes inside of them with extreme ease.

"I wanna taste it," Krystal says, pulling your cock out and savoring the best flavor she had ever tasted from it. Good lord, how does Wonyoung's ass smell so good? Your wife was truly impressed; no wonder you were so addicted to cheating on her with that Vicky girl.

"I love how you enjoy tasting my asshole," Wonyoung tells Krystal as she resumes bouncing on your dick. Krystal now just watches; you're getting very sweaty as the young girl puts you on the edge. Krystal frees you from the chair, allowing you to carry-fuck Wonyoung while she licks your balls under both of you. "I FUCKING LOVE IT, FUCK ME, FUCK ME, FUCK ME," Wonyoung screams.

"OH, OH, OH, OH OH, FUCK, YES, YES, YES," Wonyoung moans as she starts orgasming. You put her on the couch and keep fucking her ass under a mating press while she grabs a sex toy and uses it to stimulate Krystal's own butthole, before Krystal takes it by herself and creams herself watching you fuck Wonyoung on the couch, but feeling a little jealous as it seems like your escapades with the long-legged girl have allowed you to build some quite good chemistry with her.

Krystal squirts herself as you choke Wonyoung before coming in to sit on the pretty girl's face, offering her pussy as a relief to the poundings you give her. "Can I taste more of it?" Krystal asks you, who obliges, but a little mad you're forced to pull out of Wonyoung's tight asshole, unleashing your fury against your wife's throat and pounding it relentlessly, way faster than you did to Wonyoung's ass.

Krystal gets really slutty, taking the poundings in her throat like a champ and licking your cock every time you take a break. Wonyoung eater her pussydown low, making your wife feel in heaven as you treat her like your bitch and clean your cock in her face. "More, more, more," Krystal demands, as just like the more she spanked Wonyoung, the faster she went, the faster you fuck her throat, the more she wants you to keep going.

Krystal finishes the facefucking session spitting on your cock and letting Wonyoung handle it for a bit as she lets you fuck her face and slap your cock against it, but not for long. "Put your cock in my fucking pussy right now," an intimidating Krystal orders, leading you to bring your fun with Wonyoung to an instant halt.

"YEAH, YEAH, YEAH, YEAH," Krystal screams as you pound her pussy while she's on top of the couch. Wonyoung adds extra stimulation, grabbing the toy Krystal was entertaining herself with and shoving up your wife's anus. "Keep going, baby, fuck that pussy, such a dirty fucking boy, aren't you? Going from her asshole straight to my cunt," she says.

You and Wonyoung compete to see who can fuck Krystal the fastest. Either way, both of you know she's gonna cum at any moment, so it's a win-win situation; you can claim it was your cock that gave her pussy an orgasm, and Wonyoung can claim she gave Krystal an anal orgasm with the sex toy. "Stuff both those fucking holes," Krystal demands from both of you as she receives a triple kiss.

"FUCK THAT PUSSY, FUCK HER HARDER," Krystal gives the command to you, who keeps pushing. It clearly seems your cock is losing the battle to Wonyoung's sex toy, so you just decide to put an end to it, pushing Krystal down the couch and obliterating her cunt like she was some hentai character that only existed to be a fuckhole. Wonyoung helps you by sitting on your wife's face and squirting all over Krystal's mouth, letting you use her wife as much as you can while her moans get muffled by the young girl's ass.

As you pick up the pace you pound Krystal's used-up cunt, you enjoy how much your cock bulges under her magnificent abs. It was a view that you loved every time you fucked her, but that had gotten rarer and rarer, but the sexy passionate missionary position you fucked her cunt in that couch was perfect for it to pop out again, with you toying with Krystal's insides and poking your cock in different angles at each thrust you gave her, particularly enjoying the ones that landed with the tip of your cock right at her belly button.

You pound Krystal like a fucktoy, watching her moans grow louder and louder and unable to get silenced under Wonyoung's ass. That's how it's supposed to be. She was probably finally telling you to go easy on her, like she did many times over those years, but this time you couldn't listen, so the louder she moaned, the harder you abused her cunt. But boy, you were really wrong.

"FUCK HER HARDER," Krystal says as she frees her mouth from Wonyoung's grinding pussy just for a second. Damn, when did your wife turn into such a slut?, you ask yourself, but after gathering your thoughts, fuck Krystal just like she wants it: hard, fast, strong.

"Let's make her fucking pussy cum," Wonyoung says, stretching her long arms right into Krystal's pussy. You follow suit, and both of you massage your wife's clit. Krystal starts growling before she announces. "I'M FUCKING CUMMING," Krystal says. "Then cum for me," Wonyoung replies, grabbing Krystal's beautiful face and kissing it just as Krystal lets out a massive geyser of squirt out of her cunt that surprises you, and so does Wonyoung, proud of the work her hands did on Krystal.

Krystal slides down the couch, her body rubbing against Wonyoung's as she reaches an orgasm that leaves her shaking on the floor. In spite of that, you just keep pounding her like she's just a sex doll built to give you the maximum pleasure. You push Krystal's body back up the couch, closing her legs by bringing them together and resuming fucking her pussy while Wonyoung puts her big hands in your wife's clit, you two doing the perfect teamwork to give Krystal the most shaking orgasms known to mankind. Her body trembles from head to toe, but you two just don't stop.

"Make that pussy cum, make that pussy cum," Wonyoung commands as you stay fucking Krystal. The young girl brings her massive Hitachi vibrator and puts it right in your hands to massage Krystal's increasingly throbbing clit, while letting your wife's moans echo through her tight pussy as she gets back to sitting on Krystal's face.

"USE THOSE TWO MAGIC WANDS TO MAKE ME FUCKING CUM AS HARD AS I CAN, FUCKKKK." Krystal screams as her face turns red, and she's nothing but a host of intense orgasms that would make the weakest girls beg for mercy. But Krystal isn't like other girls; she's a legend, an it girl, and they are built different; they are once-in-a-generation girls that can perform the most mind-blowing sex known to men. 

"DON'T STOP, JUST FUCK ME, FUCK ME, FUCK ME," Krystal begs. "Fuck her harder; look how much she wants it," Wonyoung orders to you. "Give me that cunt," Krystal says, pushing the young girl's pussy against her face to cope with the heat your cock and the Hitachi provide against her own's. "You fucking love that, don't you?" Wonyoung brags.

"OH MY GOD, THAT'S SO FUCKING GOOD YESSSSSSSSSS," Krystal says as she explodes in another orgasm just as you give her ass another spank. She says a bunch of unrecognizable words, just having enough forces to stick her tongue out as if she had taken a massive electric shock, while Wonyoung grinds her pussy in her face. Her eyes only see a red light, her teeth ache, and the four walls of her pussy clench to unbelievable levels of tightness. 

An exausted Krystal finishes her orgasm, but she still has strength to deliver the next order. "Fuck her pussy," she says in a commanding voice, pushing you to spread Wonyoung's long legs and take the plunge against her tight walls again. "You know what? Fuck her ass, fuck any of her holes," Krystal adds, grabbing the Hitachi and putting it in her clit just as she sits on the couch right above Wonyoung's pretty face.

"Squirt all over my face; cover it with your juices," Wonyoung tells Krystal with a smile as your cock finds her way into her pussy. You choke the young girl and treat her like your next toy, all under your wife's watch, the juices coming out of Krystal's pussy telling if you succeeded or failed in the quest she gave you.

"You're such a good boy; look at how much you love fucking my tight pussy," Wonyoung says as you two are now face to face. "OHHHHH FUCKKKKK," Wonyoung moans as you give her long legs some slapping. Krystal stays fixated, masturbating herself to the scene, showing her approval as her cold juices leak out of her cunt and land on Wonyoung's body, making the youngest moan again.

"Open your mouth, open your fucking mouth," Krystal orders as she delivers another squirt shower in Wonyoung right at it. You go harder, wishing for your wife to pull out another squirt show like that. But Krystal had different plans.

Krystal flips Wonyoung around and pushes the young girl's butt upwards. "Fuck my ass," Wonyoung commands, doing exactly what Krystal intended her to do; these two have indeed great chemistry. With just one leg on the ground, Wonyoung takes your anal pounding, while Krystal sucks her perky tits and spits on her face. "Fucking slut, you can't resist my husband's cock, can't you?" Krystal asks.

Wonyoung can't even answer, as Krystal just shoved her hands to massage the young girl's cunt while you fucked her ass. Every time you take a break from fucking her butt, Krystal comes in to bob her head on your cock, confirming her addition from Wonyoung's tasty butthole now runs rampant. " is all she can say. Every time you take a break from fucking her butt, Krystal comes in to bob her head on your cock, confirming her addition from Wonyoung's tasty butthole now runs rampant. As you keep fucking Wonyoung, Krystal, let's the young girl use her sex toy in her own ass.

"Fuck me, please fuck me, AHHHHHH," Wonyoung screams while Krystal herself moans hard with the Hitachi and the sex toy plugged in her holes. Your balls smash Wonyoung's throbbing clit as you take turns between her ass and pussy now. Krystal plugs a larger dildo on Wonyoung's mouth and connects it with her own pussy as both of you turn the young girl into the source of all of your pleasures. "Dirty little fucking bitch," Krystal says about Wonyoung as you shove her face into Krystal's pussy while fucking hers even faster, Krystal incorporating the jealous wife character to the fullest and spitting on Wonyoung multiple times.

Wonyoung and Krystal cum together as your cock and the dildo provide the pleasure they need, both sharing the ends of it in their mouths. But then you come with a surprise.

You put Krystal on all fours and tell her something you hadn't done in years. "I'm gonna fuck this ass," you say, spanking her butt. "If you shoved a couple toys on it, you can take my cock too," you continue. But to your surprise, Krystal this time gives you a very different answer.

"Yes, yes, please fuck my ass," she tells you. Watching you fuck Wonyoung's butt really turned her on. It's been nearly 7 years since she last took a cock in her ass, but now she's finally ready.

You shove your cock in Krystal's ass at the same time Wonyoung shoves the dildo in her pussy. "Fuck yes," Krystal moans, the prospect of getting double-stuffed by a cock and a dildo being very enticing to her. Wonyoung uses her spit to make both instruments slide easier into Krystal fuckholes. "YES, PLEASE, YES, FUCK ME," Krystal begs as she turns into an ultrawhore. "That's so fucking hot," Wonyoung says.

Krystal is all smiles as your cock pounds her ass. Maybe it's Wonyoung's presence, but her fears regarding anal sex seem to be completely gone. "That cock is so fucking good in my ass," she tells you. Wonyoung takes the dildo out, giving you free reign to pound your wife's tight asshole. "FUCK IT, FUCK IT, FUCK IT," Krystal begs as Wonyoung adds more spit and massages your wife's cunt, making her scream very loud in a way that can be heard way beyond the four walls of your house.

"Make her fucking cum, fucking make her cum," Wonyoung says, switching the order of a few words. Indeed, you do just that, making Krystal explode with her first anal orgasm in nearly a decade. "YES, YES, YES, MORE, MORE, MORE, FUCK ME HARDER, FUCK THAT ASS, DESTROY IT, PLEASE," she screams as Wonyoung spanks her butt and licks her anus at the same time your cock obliterates it. "FUCK, I'M GONNA CUM AGAIN," Kyrstal says as she squirts all over the couch.

"Let's clean this cock together," Krystal orders to Wonyoung, eager to have a taste of her own asshole after so many years. And damn, she had forgotten how good she tasted. "Wow, it's better than mine," Wonyoung says, complimenting your wife. The two it girls with good-smelling anuses polish your knob to the fullest, each girl licking one side of your shaft while taking turns to dive balls deep down your erection from time to time.

Krystal proves to be a kind wife, pushing Wonyoung to get her face fucked and taste more of your wife's perfect asshole. "You taste so amazing," Wonyoung says again as your balls get engulfed in her mouth and your cock impales it like a massive sword, Krystal making sure to push it harder until she makes Wonyoung gag.

"Looks like you like my asshole a lot, you fucking cunt," Krystal says. "Now how about my cunt, since you're also one?" she continues. "Wanna taste my cream-filled pussy?" she asks Wonyoung. "Of course," the young girl answers.

"Come here, both of you, please me," Krystal orders, getting herself on all fours and pushing your cock back in her pussy while she shoves Wonyoung's ass in her face to get turned on by the smell of her butthole. You take your wife's cunt hard from the start, her walls clenching further as Wonyoung's smell invades her nostrils. You spank Krystal's butt and drive her away from Wonyoung's ass, but no problem; she just stretches her hands right into the young girl's cunt.

Krystal gets her cunt hammered like it hasn't been in a while, you using her pussy as a jerkoff hole, you two trading spankings between butts, you on Krystal, her on Wonyoung. "Eat my ass," Wonyoung demands, Krystal getting double the pleasure once again.

"This is the hardest you can fuck me? Come on," Krystal says, daring you to push the pace even further. You do it just like that, attacking her pussycat at full speed. "Fuck me harder, give it to me," Krystal keeps pushing, her cheeks getting clapped hard at your increasingly fast thrusts.

You go full animalesque on Krystal, grabbing her hair and pushing her body onto the couch, prone-boning her as her face lands on Wonyoung's butt and uses it as a pillow, absorbing the crazy poundings you give her. She gets used like a fleshlight, and you are not caring how used up her pussy will be after it or whether she can walk afterwards; all you wanna do is destroy your slutty wife like she never had the chance for you to do before.

"Take his fucking cock, take his fucking cock," Wonyoung demands as Krystal gets absolutely destroyed. "AH, AH, AH, AH," it's all Krystal is able to scream, and soon her screams are joined by yours.

"FUCK FUCK, I'M GONNA CUM," you say. Seconds afterward, you fill your wife's pussy to the brim. Krystal remembers she's not on the pill, but it's too late. Your birthday gift to her will most likely be a baby. But in the end, she actually enjoys it, digging it to feed Wonyoung and thank her.

"Thanks, Ms. Jang; without you, this wasn't possible," Krystal tells the young girl. "I'm thankful too, Mrs. Soojung," Wonyoung replies. "You can call me anytime; by the way, you can just call me Wonyoung; I prefer it that way," she says, leaving.

The next day you wake up, it seems like finally your marriage with Mrs. Soojung will be restored back to the early days, until you receive devastating news from your wife's mouth.

"I'm filing for divorce," she says.

"Why?" you ask her.

"Do you really need to ask?" Krystal replies.

"But we had a great night tonight," you tell her.

"Not really, you only tried because of that Vicky girl, without her, all you can give me is very boring and vanilla sex," Krystal says.

"I promise to do better," you tell her.

"Empty promises, well, things will be easy for me; Vicky recorded everything we did last night in that room," Krystal says.

"Damn, this was all a trap, wasn't it?" you say.

"Dumb boy, like always, I just wanted to use you and take revenge for your cheating antics," Krystal replies.

Indeed, Krystal already had a new partner for herself.

"Hi," she said as Wonyoung opened the door. Truly an ending like the ones that happen in those rich lesbian fanfictions; they lived happily ever after together. 

Well, not without some bumps.

A few days later, Krystal went to the bathroom feeling very nauseating, with Wonyoung coming to the rescue for her unwell partner. 

"I think I'm pregnant," Krystal says.

[ivymarquis]

The Neighbor

Hello friends I fucked off for a month but I’m back and I bring Price smut as an apology for my absence. @sky-is-the-limit’s “Im here to do what your boyfriend cant” prompt has lived in my brain rent free ecer since I read it and while I didn’t follow it verbatim, I did keep in spirit with the theme :)

Also womp I was gone for the Price challenge by @glitterypirateduck but this actually checks off a couple of the prompt options (first time being intimate, a confession/secret is discovered/revealed) so I’m submitting it.

There are a lot of tags. Make sure you read them.

Pairing| John Price x Reader Rating| M Word Count| 4.8k Kinks/Content/Warnings| Accidental voyuerism by virtue of living in an apartment, the reader has a dogshit boyfriend at the beginning of the fic (there is no cheating), slut shaming (from the dogshit boyfriend), these two idiots are down bad for each other, sex toys, oral (F!receiving), unprotected PiV, gratuitous squirting because I’m me, not really heavy on BDSM elements but mentions of the following: bondage/restraints (John uses his hands, nothing crazy), something akin to subspace from how good the nut is, aftercare, John is a prick to the now-ex, very brief angst due to a quick misunderstanding, very vaguely implied somnophilia, rampant abuse of italics. Lemme know if I missed anything.

His neighbor is clearly used to Price being deployed.

She’s a sweet thing, really, and on the whole isn’t that disagreeable of a neighbor.

He just has one problem with her (not even her, really) that is a thorn in his fucking side- her boyfriend.

The boyfriend was not an issue when they first met- wasn’t in the picture at all.

And no John most assuredly hasn’t had it out for the guy since Day 1. The fact that John had gathered himself up to ask his pretty neighbor out when he came back from his latest mission, only to find out about the new boyfriend, does not color his impression of the other man. He’s grown and this is not the first time his advances have been turned away for whatever reason.

But there are, to his knowledge, no true redeeming qualities about the man and he is about as useful as a screen door on a submarine.

He catches bits and pieces through the walls. The boyfriend is not attentive, caring, or sweet to her. She is treated as a guest in her own home, and twice he’s heard bellowing shouts that had Price at the door with his fist banging against it- both to shut him up and make it exceptionally well known that if the boyfriend thinks intimidating a woman is going to fly, that Price will not hesitate to kick the door in.

The most appalling part of it all is that John has a front row seat to just how atrocious he is in bed.

For the life of him John does not understand. It’s not even like the lad’s a good lay.

He’s heard many stories of women tolerating absolutely atrocious behavior from the muppets they were with because he knew how to make them see stars.

That is exceptionally not the case here. And John is rapidly finding his patience wearing thin at continually being subjugated to his pathetic performance.

So what the hell is it about the boyfriend that keeps his neighbor so enamored with him?

John stares at the ceiling, watching the blades of the fan turn as he tries to tune out the thumping of the headboard against the wall.

He thinks that if the man was just a bad lay and completely incapable of getting her anywhere, that would be one thing and John would continue to be frustrated but ultimately understand. But it’s the way he seems to actively ruin it anytime she has the audacity to enjoy having sex with him that truly grates on John’s nerves.

It’s not often, but even a blind squirrel finds a nut every now and then. The thumping of the headboard is accompanied by her sweet voice moaning lowly in short staccato notes as the boyfriend appears to finally be doing something right.

The thumping comes to a halt, and John groans in frustration.

“Why’d you stop?” He can hear his pretty neighbor lament through the thin walls.

“Why the fuck are you being so loud? Trying to give the neighbor a show?”

John squints his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose in annoyance. The fucking muppet can’t do anything right.

If the neighbor was his, John wouldn’t give a fuck who heard. Let all the neighbors know that he could fuck the sense clear out of her pretty little head. John could show the muppet what loud is.

“No! I’m not trying to do anything- it just felt good,” she defends herself.

“Well, be quieter about it, no one needs to hear that. You sound like a whore,” the muppet snaps at her irritably, and John is nearly at his fucking limit when the god damn headboard starts to thump against the wall again.

“Get out.”

Oh.

John is impressed- pleasure and pride coursing through him as his sweet neighbor stands up for herself rather than letting that ungrateful swine continue to berate her.

Good fucking girl.

“What did you just say?” The thumping stops.

“You don’t get to call me names. Get off of me and get out.”

For all his sins, it seems even the muppet has a line he’s not willing to cross.

There’s a shifting as he presumably pulls out and gets off the bed- the words are muffled but the tone is clear. The muppet isn’t above laying into her verbally though consent is (smartly) a line he won’t toe.

And good thinking on his part- John would probably tear through the drywall and turn him into a chew toy had that conversation gone in any other direction.

The door slams loudly, announcing the boyfriend’s departure.

John can’t help but keep his attention on his neighbor to see what her reaction is going to be. It is taking every ounce of self control he has to not follow the boyfriend and wring his neck in the parking lot.

There’s no conventional guide for how to address this situation with your neighbor. ‘Hello, I’ve fancied you for quite some time and that ungrateful prick somehow swept you up before I got the nerve to ask you out. I've had to hear you have the most lackluster sex ever for the past several months, and equal parts want to check in on how you’re doing emotionally after his latest stunt, and also want to bend you over and pin you to the mattress until you’re squealing. May I come in?’

He can’t say he is too surprised to hear things slamming about in the apartment- his pretty neighbor sounding more pissed off than upset, catching snippets of “Who the fuck does he think he is, talking to me like that” and “Motherfucker couldn’t find my clit with a map and a headlamp but can find the audacity to call me names-”

Okay, John has to fight back the urge to laugh at that last one lest she hear him. She’s quite the viper when (finally) provoked, and it just endears her more to him.

She doesn’t appear particularly distraught, the slamming and huffing and muttering concluding with her tossing herself on the bed.

It’s a very common occurrence that after the neighbor’s rendezvous with her lazy boyfriend, John is treated to a show where she finishes herself off with her toys.

The boyfriend, like many inadequate men, is threatened by them and John has heard the snide remarks.

Hilarious, he finds it, that a man incapable of getting her off is so adamant that she gets rid of them.

She hasn’t listened, clearly, as the low sound of her vibrator can be heard through the wall.

John is soon graced with the sound of her panting moans. His cock stiffens in interest at her voice, which is a frequent occurrence. She makes such pretty noises, mewling and whimpering as she works herself up.

Tonight is a whirlwind of emotions for his pretty neighbor, and at the end of the day her no-good boyfriend left her high and dry.

John will gladly enjoy the consequences of the boyfriend’s actions, one hand wrapping around his cock and beginning to stroke in time with her whines.

What he wouldn’t give for a chance to make her see stars. He’d be so good to her.

The reality of his job makes dating a logistical nightmare, part of what stayed his hand for so long.

He’s not blind. His neighbor is kind and sweet with a killer smile and wandering eyes. He’s caught her more than once ogling him when he’s returned home in uniform, or more nondescript tactical clothing.

Feeling her gaze on him always makes him puff up with pride, enjoying holding her attention no matter how fleeting. If he takes his time after a run and makes a point to pull the hem of his shirt up to wipe at his brow where she can see it, that’s his business.

So John thinks he’s dreaming when he hears that lovely voice whimper his name from the other side of the wall.

He stiffens, quietly waiting to see if he hears it again.

“John- Oh, fuck- please,” is all he needs to hear before he’s well and truly lost any semblance of patience.

Only having the presence of mind to dress himself enough to not warrant any errant looks from the other neighbors, he is at her door in a second.

It’s only after he knocks that he realizes he may well have killed whatever momentum she’s built for herself- given her muttering as she approaches the door- but he fully intends to make up for the stolen release.

She opens the door without looking through the peephole, obviously expecting it to be the ex based on the vitriol poised to spill at John’s chest, approximately eye level with where the (hopefully ex) boyfriend would be.

Once again he has to stifle a laugh, finding her a comical vision when the anger on her face melts away as her eyes flick up to his face with the realization that it is him at the door and not the object of her ire.

“What are you doing here, John?” Christ, he’s always been a sucker for pretty doe eyes. If he held even an ounce less of restraint he’d be mounting her right here for everyone to see.

“I’m here to do what your sorry excuse of a boyfriend can’t.”

Even as he reaches out to pull her in for a kiss, he’s watching her body language- gauging if she stiffens or shifts away.

She doesn’t.

In fact, her arms loop behind him and pull him closer, tugging on his hair and his shirt.

John’s not wasting any more time than he already has, walking her backwards into the apartment and shutting the door with his foot before reaching back to lock it- he’s got no desire for any interruptions from wayward former boyfriends.

They separate for a moment as she paws at the hem of his shirt, clearly wanting it off of him. John is all too happy to oblige, preening under her attention. He’s always had the stockier build of a man who’s fitness came from utility in the field, opposed to the hard defined abs of someone who spends most of their time in the gym.

It’s cute, the way she has to pry her eyes up to his face- clearly liking what she sees and flustered by the fact that John can see her staring.

“I broke up with him,” she clarifies.

“Good,” is his simplistic response, although if John’s being honest with himself he doesn’t really care about the finer details. The little prick never deserved to have her and John finally has his chance to prove himself worthy.

“The bedroom’s this way,” she prompts between kisses.

Their clothes are peeled off in turns as they stumble towards the room. The layout is inverted to John’s own flat nextdoor, so despite having never stepped foot inside before he guides her to keep her from crashing into something behind her.

By the time they are collapsing against her bed, they’re stripped of everything except a scant thong on her and his own boxers.

She’s just so delightfully soft in his grip, John can’t keep his hands or his mouth off of her.

The feeling is reciprocated as she pushes up off the bed to grind against him. As much as he’s relishing in them dry humping and making out like teenagers, he’s wanted her for so long and now that she’s finally willing and pliant underneath him, he’s itching for a taste of her.

Kissing his way down her body- starting at her jaw, the column of her neck, across her collar bone, down her sternum; latching onto each nipple and teasing them to hardened peaks before continuing his path down.

He’s compelled by the urge to turn her into a chew toy as he reaches her belly, although he stifles that urge and keeps his teeth to himself.

He can’t quite resist giving a small nip as she squirms, clearly excited by the implication of where he’s heading.

There’s a damp spot on her underwear already as he kisses along the waistband while his hands tease with the elastic on either side of her hips.

The sound of her breath hitching in anticipation makes him smirk, attention drifting further south.

The fabric is in his way as he presses a kiss against her clothed cunt, gripping handfuls of her hips to keep her still as she bucks in his grasp.

“Easy, sweetheart- we’ve got all night,” he soothes before moving his attention up one thigh to the backside of her knee.

Those sweet thighs are splayed open for him, giving John unfettered access as he continues to tease.

“When’s this sweet cunt been eaten last, hm?”

He knows he’s heard her give that undeserving muppet head, but can’t recall any reciprocation occuring. There’s not much that can shock John at this point in his life, and he’s willing to roll the dice by dragging up her now-ex because he knows this poor thing hasn’t been eaten until she’s begging him off in ages.

“I couldn’t even begin to tell you,” she answers breathlessly, anticipating having her thighs twitching in his hold.

Out of the corner of his eye, John spies a torn condom wrapper that didn’t quite make it into the bin. Well that keeps him from having to ask two questions, then. Smart girl.

“What a shame,” he tsks lightly, peppering kisses back up and down her thigh.

Deciding that she’s waited long enough and he’s had his fun being a tease, John is quick to remove the scant lace and pull it off of her legs before tossing it to who-knows-where.

The sounds she makes as he makes a meal out of her is music to his ears. Each hitched moan and breathy whimper makes him stiffen in interest.

His attention shifts to focus on her clit, tongue circling the sensitive nub as his hands hold her hips in place.

As focused as he is on what’s right in front of him, it takes a moment for John to realize that she’s stifling her noises. One hand is fisting the sheets beneath her while the other is clamped across her lips.

Well. That simply won’t do.

The ex may have trained and shamed her into silence, but John didn’t make it as a military captain without learning how to break someone else’s bad habits.

He ignores her whimper of protest as he stops, one hand abandoning the softness of her hip in favor of grabbing her wrist and pulling her hand away from her mouth.

“None of that,” he admonishes gently, pressing a kiss to one thigh. “Let me hear you.”

“I-I’m too loud,” she protests and for a split second John sees red.

To his credit, he does not leave her wet and leaking on the bed to go bludgeon her ex to death with a blunt object.

“No such thing, sweetheart,” he soothes before having a thought to tease her. “Who are you worried is going to hear you?” He asks kindly, a shit eating grin as he speaks again, “the neighbor?”

Her wide eyed expression is thoroughly scandalized and John can’t fight the chuckle that escapes him.

He hasn’t released her wrist yet, deciding that it’s time to get back to his meal. If she abandons gripping the sheet with her free hand to cover her mouth again, he simply plans to hold both of her wrists.

It’s tentative at first, still not entirely trusting John at his word that he wants to hear her.

But John is all for positive reinforcement as a motivator, crooking his fingers to stroke that one spot that makes her see stars to encourage more from her.

She’s a quick study, although when she releases the sheet John is watching her like a hawk.

Rather than clasping over her mouth again, John is pleased when her fingers end up burying in his hair.

More than happy to let her guide him, John takes his cues from how she pulls at his hair. The feel of her thighs twitching as she breathes in staccato breaths is all the reward he needs.

“You’re getting close,” he says against her cunt, pointing out the obvious before getting back to work. She’s anxious, he thinks, the closer she gets to her climax. Poor girl doesn’t know what to do with herself with an orgasm she hasn’t had to put all the work into.

“D-don’t stop,” she stammers, rewarded immediately with John redoubling his efforts.

He’s not going to stop. Pretty thing like her deserves nothing less than laying on her back and enjoying getting her cunt eaten out.

“O-oh fuck,” is his only warning before she’s gushing on his face and John is like a kid on Christmas morning.

He doesn’t even know if she realizes she’s squirted, too caught up in the pleasure of her high.

He’s always thought it was hot- now that he knows his pretty neighbor is a squirter he is more than willing to get on his knees and pray to whoever is listening that this isn’t a one time event. He’ll do anything to get her to keep him.

Even as her high fades he doesn’t let up on her, continuing to work his middle and ring finger inside of her. All he wants is to see her cum- wants to see those eyes roll as she squeezes them shut in anticipation.

Despite pulling his face away from her wet pussy, he doesn’t leave her clit unattended for long before his thumb is gently circling in time with the thrusts of his fingers.

Kissing his way back up her body, John can’t help but be pleased as she pulls him in to make out with him. Snatched gasps and bucks of her hips grace his ears as he works her from orgasm to the next, the wet sound of his palm slapping against her.

“John Im gonna cum again,” she whimpers in warning.

He feels like a god with the way she stares up at him reverently, eyes wide and desperate for another climax.

“Come on,” he goads, “Show me- let me see your face when you cum.”

Christ if her leg twitches any harder it’s going to start vibrating, serving to only encourage him.

“O-oh,” she mewls, “God- don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t-“ she’s pleading with him like he wouldn’t sit at her feet if she asked him to.

The bewildered look on her face is darling, and John nearly finishes untouched; he's so wound up it’s not going to take much.

A few choice thoughts keep his own eminent climax at bay and buys him enough breathing room. She bucks and trembles in his hold, a high pitched squeal escaping her as he proves not only can he make her cum twice, but he can make her squirt like a faucet twice.

As soon as she’s starting to come down from her high she’s pulling at him, drawing up her knees to spread her legs in invitation.

“Greedy girl,” he teases as he kisses her- wet fingers abandoning her cunt in favor of manhandling her, wrapping her legs around his waist as he positions himself.

“Please, please, please-“ she begs so prettily for him, pleading for him to do exactly what he’s been fantasizing about for months.

He’s not a small man and mindful of that fact, but she’s well prepped and takes him easily. The desperate whimper that escapes her sears into John’s memory.

The buildup of everything finally gets to him as he wastes no time setting a steady pace.

“That’s it, sweetheart, just like that. Let me hear you,” he encourages as she cants her hips in time with his, whines of pleasure escaping her on each thrust.

“John, please,” she begs, eyebrows furrowing in pleasure as she watches where they’re joined.

“Eyes up here,” he instructs and Christ he almost loses it when her gaze flicks from between their bodies up to his face.

His hands find hers, fingers lacing together as he lowers his torso in order to kiss the ethereal creature underneath him.

She whimpers into his mouth, her sounds only encouraging John.

Everything about her is warm and inviting, from her soft skin to her warm cunt and the way she sings for him at every thrust.

Maneuvering them so he can grip both her wrists with one of his hands, the other immediately dives between their bodies to find her clit again.

His pretty neighbor has spent months not having an orgasm she didn’t give herself, and John is determined to prove to her that he can give her as many as she can handle.

“John I can’t cum again,” she pleads even as her thighs shake on either side of him.

“Yes you can,” he assures her. “One more time for me, yeah?”

Now, should she insist she’s done and satisfied then John would leave her clit alone and finish up their fun. As it is, though, she nods in acquiescence before the trembling in her thighs increases.

“Good girl,” he praises, fingers continuing their steady pace around her clit as she creeps closer to the edge.

She’s babbling in his ear as he presses a kiss to her temple and he knows she’s almost there.

“Good girl,” he praises again, a cocksure grin pulling at the corners of his lips at her immediate response.

“My good girl,” he ups the ante, testing her response to John staking a claim on her. And God did it ever work. That last little bit is all it takes to finally tip her over.

She clenches down on him like a vice and John immediately loses it, groaning low as the haze of his orgasm washes over him.

It’s everything he wants- she’s everything he wants as he recovers enough from his climax to finally notice that the bed is an utter mess beneath them.

It’s not his immediate concern however, more interested in soothing her through the come down of her high. She’s shivering underneath him, eyes glossy from the intensity of her last orgasm.

“Easy, sweetheart,” he murmurs reassuringly. “Just breathe for me.”

He gathers her up in his arms, listening as her heartbeat relaxes in time with his own.

Eventually when enough time passes she’s more alert and happily snuggling against his chest. After giving her a chance to rest he herds her along to the bathroom so she doesn’t give herself a UTI. She tries to brush him off but her legs are taking their sweet time cooperating again.

Of course, she’s not exactly a recruit taking a piss test so he gives her her privacy and she’s able to return on her own albeit on shaky legs.

John pets at her head idly, attention drifting in post coital bliss as his hand strokes down along her back.

“I can’t believe you’re actually in my bed,” she giggles deliriously after a stretch of quiet.

“Only reason I wasn’t here sooner was because of that muppet,” he assures her. He doesn’t want her thinking that this is a one time thing for him. He’s wanted her for so long he can’t possibly be expected to turn her loose at the end of the night.

“I only dated him because I didn’t think you liked me,” she scoffs at herself.

“Oh, it was nearly the first moment I laid eyes on you. But with my work I kept talking myself out of doing anything,” he tells her. “Kept telling myself you deserve better. And then you brought the muppet home and kept him around,” John grouses good naturedly at her. “Think they say the definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting a different result.”

“I plead temporary insanity,” she jokes, snuggling closer against his chest. “But I got rid of him. And you finally made your move.”

He hums in agreement, sleep pulling at him now that he has her tucked up against his side.

John doesn’t remember falling asleep but he wakes with a jolt to the sound of pounding on her door.

He’s only been out for an hour or so when he checks the clock on the nightstand, his neighbor sprawled out next to him.

Well, now he knows she snores. The sound is light enough to have never heard it through the wall, but curled up next to him she’s like a cat purring loudly in his ear.

And he’s exceptionally pissed right off at the fact someone has woken him up. Especially considering he has one guess who it is.

He fully debates answering the door buck ass naked to teach the prick a lesson about banging on doors after midnight but settles on tossing his joggers on.

Much like when she opened the door for John, the ex is automatically trained at where her head would be rather than looking at John’s face.

“My eyes are here,” he quips sarcastically. “Why the fuck are you banging on the door this late.”

“Why th-“ the ex starts to parrot back before cutting himself off. “Why the fuck are you in her apartment? Why isn’t she answering?”

“She’s asleep,” John answers simply. There’s no obligation to explain the why and how he ended up in her apartment.

“What the fuck do you mean she’s asleep? How is she asleep after she just dumped me? And why the fuck are you here?”

The boyfriend (the ex boyfriend, he thinks with glee) is either oblivious or…

Well. The ex boyfriend is oblivious. Let’s just keep it at that.

“I’m here because you can’t do your job right. She’s asleep because I can. What part of that is confusing?”

“That stupid slag’s been fucking you behind my back-“

“No.” John is somewhat mindful of not giving a full on “screaming at recruits” bellow, but his voice booms into the corridor outside the apartment anyway. “You watch your fucking mouth. This” John gestures vaguely at his own presence in her flat, “just happened after she dumped you. You don’t get to hurl insults.”

“She hopped off of my cock and straight to yours- what the fuck else is it?”

“You couldn’t get her off,” John hisses in annoyance. “I’ve had front row seats to your shitty little performance more than once. Not 5 minutes after you leave and she’s having to handle it herself.”

“I can’t be expected to compete with a fucking vibrator!”

“Well I sure as shit didn’t need one to get the job done. Poor girl could barely get her legs to work to go to the loo and not give herself a UTI. Your skill issues are what started all of this.”

“You know what? Fucking have her. I don’t need this shit.”

Ah yes, because John needs the ex’s permission to date a newly single woman. Absolutely. That’s entirely how that works.

“Never needed your blessing. Now fuck off. I’m trying to sleep.”

The ex responds with a two finger salute as he spins on his heel and storms off.

John is almost tempted to grab him by the back of his neck and turn him into a chew toy. Given his military career, his patience for muppets giving him attitude is virtually nonexistent.

But the siren call of his pretty neighbor is a stronger pull than the muppet can ever hope to achieve. John’s succeeded in his mission to run the prick off, and he’s going to try to get a few more hours of sleep before seeing if she’s interested in another romp in the morning when she wakes up.

The bedroom is dark and poorly lit but John immediately picks up on the silence.

Rather than being sprawled out and snoring like when he left her, she’s quiet and curled into a ball.

She’s awake.

“Sweetheart?” He calls softly.

She jolts, fabric rustling from the sheets falling off her as she sits up.

“You’re still here,” the surprise in her tone cuts, although he knows she didn’t mean for it to.

She seems to realize how that comes across and clarifies further, “I- I heard the door shut.”

It falls into place for him then- she woke up to the sound of the door and John nowhere to be found. She thought he’d left.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he consoles, making his way back to the bed. “You’re not getting rid of me that easily,” he assures her while gathering her back into his arms.

Sleep comes back readily once the two of them are situated back in the bed.

Come morning, John’s got the patience and the presence of mind to throw a towel on the bed. He finds out for himself that his neighbor makes the prettiest noises with her arse propped up in the air and her face still buried in her pillow.

He can’t help but laugh later when she texts him that one of the neighbors made a noise complaint.

Age in bio/pinned or I will block you ♡

[nostalgebraist]

In other uncanny-valley AI voice news...

Google has this new thing called "NotebookLM," which allows you to upload any document, click a button, and then a few minutes later receive an entire AI-generated podcast episode (!) about the document. The generation seems to occur somewhat faster than real-time.

(This is currently offered for free as a demo, all you need is a Google account.)

These podcast episodes are... they're not, uh, good. In fact, they're terrible – so cringe-y and inane that I find them painful to listen to.

But – unlike with the "AI-generated content" of even the very recent past – the problem with this stuff isn't that it's unrealistic. It's perfectly realistic. The podcasters sound like real people! Everything they say is perfectly coherent! It's just coherently ... bad.

It's a perfect imitation of superficial, formulaic, cringe-y media commentary podcasts. The content isn't good, but it's a type of bad content that exists, and the AI mimics it expertly.

The badness is authentic. The dumb shit they say is exactly the sort of dumb shit that humans would say on this sort of podcast, and they say it with the exact sorts of inflections that people would use when saying that dumb shit on that sort of podcast, and... and everything.

(Advanced Voice Mode feels a lot like this too. And – much as with Advanced Voice Mode – if Google can do this, then they can presumably do lots of things that are more interesting and artistically impressive.

But even if no one especially likes this kind of slop, it's highly inoffensive – palatable to everyone, not likely to confuse anyone or piss anyone off – and so it's what we get, for now, while these companies are still cautiously testing the waters.)

----

Anyway.

The first thing I tried was my novel Almost Nowhere, as a PDF file.

This seemed to throw the whole "NotebookLM" system for a loop, to some extent because it's a confusing book (even to humans), but also to some extent because it's very long.

I saw several different "NotebookLM" features spit out different attempts to summarize/describe it that seemed to be working off of different subsets of the text.

In the case of the generated podcast, the podcasters appear to have only "seen" the first 8 (?) chapters.

And their discussion of those early chapters is... like I said, pretty bad. They get some basic things wrong, and the commentary is painfully basic even when it's not actually inaccurate. But it's still uncanny that something like this is possible.

(Spoilers for the first ~8 chapters of Almost Nowhere)

The second thing I tried was my previous novel, The Northern Caves.

The Northern Caves is a much shorter book, and there were no length-related issues this time.

It's also a book that uses a found-media format and includes a fictitious podcast transcript.

And, possibly because of this, NotebookLM "decided" to generate a podcast that treated the story and characters as though they existed in the real world – effectively, creating fanfiction as opposed to commentary!

(Spoilers for The Northern Caves.)

----

Related links:

I tried OpenAI's Advanced Voice Mode ChatGPT feature and wrote a post about my experiences

I asked NotebookLM to make a podcast about my Advanced Voice Mode post, with surreal results

Tumblr user ralfmaximus takes this to the limit, creating NotebookLM podcast about the very post you're reading now

[lucid-loves]

simon slowly falling in love with reader after hating her for a long time⁉️

Sorry this took so long! I hope you enjoy it! ❤

Nuclear Date Night

Pairing: Ghost x 141!reader (fem!reader, weaponsengineer!reader, codename: Byte)

Word Count: 12.8k, One-Shot

CW: strong language, mention of violence, hate to love relationship, rivals, competitive, competence, realized feelings, smut, body praise, deep kissing, licking, fingering, biting, p in v

Let me know if I missed any CWs.

Story Synopsis: Ghost hates your guts. Even since you joined the team as their new weapons engineer two years ago, he’s hated you with his whole chest. With your high and mighty attitude, bewildering intellect, and unwavering confidence, he can’t stand you. You hate him too with his unreadable face, demeaning protection, and lack of grace. When an undercover mission requires the two of you to get closer, though, the both of you realize your hate for one another has turned into something else entirely. 

You ignored the icy cold glare the lieutenant kept on your figure as you explained how the new sniper-focus worked. Your comrades stared at your invention in wonderment, once again reminded just why you were part of the team. Thanks to your countless all-nighters and delicate hands, you managed to invent a focus that can attach to any sniper, calculate notches and wind speed, recommend the gun-adjust accordingly, and hit a target perfectly with over 98% accuracy. No matter the distance, no matter the weather, your focus powered with A.I. calculated assistance can kill any target. 

Everyone was impressed. Save for Ghost. 

“Aim at the target, give it a second to calculate, and then listen to the adjustment with the earpiece. After that, just adjust the aim and fire. Pretty simple stuff, really.” You demonstrated, large sniper in hand. 

The wind blew through your hair, dust coating your strands like moth to a flame. From a distance, a whipping dust devil was forming across the golden sands of the desert. It was dry, it was hot, and it was windy as hell. It was the perfect place to demonstrate your brilliance. 

When you joined the team two years ago, you knew that you had to put your heart and soul into this job in order to be taken seriously. You weren’t especially muscular or tall. As a soldier, you did train for instances of defense in case it was needed, but your true power relied on your smarts. A rather overlooked sign of an excellent soldier that often invited ridicule from the more traditional soldier. 

That’s exactly what Ghost did when he first met you. 

“You sure this shrimp can handle herself? Be one of us? She looks like she can barely lift a spoon without straining her wrist.”

You bit the inside of your cheek at the memory, muscles tensing as if you were in that moment once again. The memory of your response quickly took over. 

“Are you sure this meat-head can handle my science? He looks like he can barely use a blender without getting confused by all the buttons.”

You both left a bitter taste in each other’s mouths that day. The taste has lingered ever since, tainting nearly every interaction you had. It was a wonder how you haven’t killed each other yet. 

Setting up the sniper, you prepped for the real demonstration. While you did final adjustments to the focus, you called over your rival. “Ghost, test this for us.”

“Why do I have to be the guinea pig? I don’t need a fucking robot to focus my aim anyway.” He protested, every cold tone in his words deliberate. 

The team shifted uncomfortably, even after all this time still not used to the spats the two of you got into. Attempts to resolve the bad blood have always failed. It was easier to just let the two of you spit your fire until you ran out of fuel. 

“Alright then, tough guy, you can aim without it. Go ahead, hit the target.” You nonchalantly agreed, confident that things were going to go your way this round. Ghost noticed that easy acceptance you gave, his eyes narrowing at you as he tried to figure you out. What was your game this time?

Not one to back down, he approached the sniper and aimed it normally, your focus set to default. No robots, no artificial intelligence. Just plain-Jane markers for distance. Looking through the scope, Ghost looked for the little red flag that indicates the location of the fake target used for practice. After a while of looking at nothing but sand, he spotted the target just past the dust devil. 

He would have to account for that. You planned for this. No wonder you insisted on dragging them all out to this dry wasteland. He clenched his teeth, blood simmering as you tried to make him look like a fool in front of his team. Backing away, though, would make him lose this game. Shooting and missing would also give you the victory point. Either way, both scenarios made him look incompetent.

God, he fucking hated you. 

Suppressing a malicious smile, you antagonize him. The feeling of beating him made your heart race in excitement. “Any day now, Ghost.”

He hated the way you drew his name out like that. The way you so easily said it like it was nothing but air to you. Like bubblegum being blown and popped at your will. His name should’ve struck fear and intimidation. Instead, you chewed on it. Popped bubbles with it. 

Aiming the scope, he lined up his shot, and fired. Watching the bullet carefully, he saw it shoot forth with speed right on the dead center of the target, whip back from the dust devil, and hit sand with an explosion of grain. 

It took everything in him not to fucking leave right then and there. 

“Good shot if you planned on missing. Now, use my focus.” You continued to tease, twisting the knife further into his already wounded pride. There was little snickering coming from his men, Gaz and Soap not being able to contain themselves. They would admit that sometimes your fights were funny. It was a way to cope with the discomfort it brought. 

Silently, Ghost switched on your focus. Out of the side, a small earpiece ejected out. He took it and fitted it into his ear under the mask. Of course, you programmed the artificial instruction with your own voice. Serious, stoic, and purposeful. “Awaiting aim to calculate.”

He aimed once more at the metal target using the scope, the dust devil blowing the sand around violently to protect it at all costs. The scope projected its calculations as if he was staring at a screen. Within a few seconds, it completed its estimations. A green dot appeared way over to the left and bottom of the notches, marking the shooting point. Your voice rang in his ears. “Target confirmed. Aim and fire.”

This seemed way off. There was no way this could be right. Was he really meant to aim so far off? The green dot stayed perfectly in place as he adjusted the aim, his center notch in line with your tech’s mark. He hoped that it would miss.

He fired and watched the bullet sail through the air, ride with the dust devil like a wave, and hit the target with perfection. He became slack-jawed bewildered at the precision. The fact that it could calculate aim with even an extreme factor such as swirling winds was undoubtedly impressive. 

This was your clear victory. And he hated it. 

You relished in his fiery disdain of your genius. A small smirk played at your lips as you saw just how the rage froze his muscles. He looked like he wanted to punch something. 

“God damn, Byte! That was phenomenal!” Soap loudly praised, his eyes wide in true marvel. The others agreed, all wanted a turn to use that focus of yours like it was a new toy. Every invention that you gave them has felt like a new toy. It made those days feel like Christmas morning. You were great at your job and they couldn’t be happier to have you on the team. 

Of course, except for Ghost. Even if your engineering prowess was the best in the world. 

“Really great work, Byte! Are the blueprints all ready to copy?” Kate smiled appreciatively while tapping on her smartpad.

“All ready for production.” You simply answered, proud of the work that you had accomplished. Another one for the books. 

While the boys played with their new toy, Ghost stepped back and crossed his arms angrily. 

He hated everything about you. Your unmatched intellect, your confident plays, your arrogant personality. He hated that his team was wasting money on technology for weapons when a true soldier shouldn’t need the handicap. Real skill was earned by yourself. Not with the assistance of technology. It should be a tool, not a crutch. 

Ghost believed that people who couldn’t aim a sniper on their own and hit a target didn’t deserve to be snipers. And you just made him unworthy of being a sniper when against your tech. 

You looked up at him, taking note of how hard he threw daggers at you. You made him look stupid, and that was your goal. It felt like you had the world in your palm when you did. Someone as respectable as Ghost being bested by a brainiac was always the best. You proved that you didn’t need muscles or height or even intimidation to be better. You just needed your smarts. 

A huff of a laugh escaped you as you turned away from him, knowing that that would just make him even more angry at you. Good. 

You hated everything about him too. 

~

“What you do really is modern magic. Seriously, Byte, how does your brain come up with such things?” Gaz inquired, raising a bottle of beer to his lips. The team decided to celebrate your new invention at the usual bar. Of course, your drinks were on them as a reward. They knew that you put a lot of work into what you did. The least they could do was pay for your rum and cokes. 

You raised the cold glass to your lips, the sweet and spicy cocktail hitting your tastebuds. “The pros of being a genius. Thank you for the praise. It feels nice to be appreciated for my work around here.”

That last past was said a little louder, loud enough to make sure that Ghost could hear it on the other side of the bar. He bit his tongue and rolled his eyes at you, not willing to open himself to any more of your antagonizing today.

The victory was as sweet as the drink you were nursing. Addictive too. You couldn’t get enough of the feeling of success. When you finished an invention, when you helped your team complete a mission, or when you bested Ghost, they all gave you that sweet sense of accomplishment. 

Soap slung his arm around your shoulder, nearly causing you to spill. He was already a couple drinks in. “Yeah yeah yeah, good work! But all we ever talk about is work. Been two years, Byte. Tell us what that genius does outside of work, huh?”

You shifted in your seat, becoming a little uncomfortable with the sudden questions about your personal life. They knew tidbits here and there about you. Some failed relationships, favorite songs, distaste for certain foods. But your answer to all of that was usually straight-forward. “We broke up.” “I like this song.” “I’m not going to eat that.”

Something that the team noticed early on was that you were a workaholic. You hung out with them on rare occasions, you were usually confined working in your lab while they had offices, and you usually departed events early to be in said lab. Besides minor details, they really didn’t know much about you outside of your work personality. They have been trying to pull you more out of your shell over time, but it was a slow process. 

Gaz frowned at Soap’s bluntness. “Come on, Johnny, leave her alone tonight.”

“It’s fine, Gaz.” You put your glass down roughly, the clink of the glass on polished wood sobering Soap up pretty quick. It made Gaz look away in shame. That was at least one thing they knew about you most intimately. You hated being treated like you can’t take care of yourself. When they stepped in on your behalf, answering a question that was meant for you, it made you want to hit them. You knew they only did it to protect you. That you were one of them and this is how they treated one of them, but you could never let it be. 

You didn’t need anybody to stand up for you. You will make that a point for forever if you had to. 

The air grew thick with tension as you silently scolded them for hitting one of your pet peeves. With a sigh, you caved in, wanting to restore some of that fun from before. “What do you wanna know? Anything is on the table.”

Soap’s face lit up like a match to a gas station. “Seriously?! Anything?”

You gave a little nod and braced yourself for the worse. Soap’s lack of personal boundaries was quite well known. It was coming from a place of genuine curiosity and ease, never ill-intent. It was just one of the quirks of Soap that you were still coming to terms with even after all this time. 

“Well. . . what’s your sex life like?” 

Gaz began to choke, coughing on beer stuck in his throat. Price tapped his back to help him out, his sharp gaze falling on Soap for such a personal question. Yet, he didn’t say anything. He knew that if he did, you would get angry at him. He has been pretty good about avoiding your pet peeve and he didn’t want to break his streak.

Clearing your throat, you composed yourself. You weren’t expecting such a blatant question either, despite inviting this kind of open question. It didn’t mean that you weren’t going to be honest, though. That just wasn’t the kind of person you were. You never stepped away from a challenge. “You’re going to have to be more specific.”

Soap grinned widely, happy to talk with you finally like you were just like one of the guys. “Body count? Preferences? All of it. I wanna know what a genius views sex as.”

Slowly, you drank the rest of your rum and coke before signaling for another one. While you hailed the bartender, you noticed that Ghost was staring intensely at you. He hated you, but even he was curious on how anyone could tolerate you enough to sleep with you. 

Once you were halfway through your second drink for some liquid courage, you began to talk about one of the most personal details of your life. “Body count of five. All men. Most were one-night stands or sex-friends.”

You liked sex. There was no question about it. At least, you were interested in it. Despite the amount of people you’ve been with, they always left you wanting more. It was always a little unsatisfying when they were finished. It always felt like there was a black hole inside of you that needed the right meal to be satisfied. 

The exact reason why was no mystery either. Unless you were masturbating alone, you never came. No matter how much time and effort went into foreplay, none of your partners have ever made you orgasm. 

Just because your sex life was active didn’t mean it was great. 

“Wow, that’s a little surprising.” Gaz admitted, finally over his coughing fit. Price shook his head, a little embarrassed to hear about his men talking about sex so freely with you. As a captain to a group of mostly boys, he has shared details with them to bring the group together. It felt a little strange to have you participate in this. Even Kate wasn’t pressured into sharing such details. 

“Our little genius gets some then! How is it? Any experience noteworthy?” Soap persisted as he ordered another round.

“Not especially? Average, I suppose.” You shrugged, answering the questions becoming much easier the more you poured rum and coke into your system. Warmth crept along your cheeks, blossomed in your ribs. You felt yourself opening up like a dormant flower. 

You ordered another drink. Soap continued to pry. “Average? What does that even mean?”

“I never came before.” You suddenly blurted out, the blending of your naturally blunt personality and alcohol turning into a pretty dangerous combination. It seemed like the rum in you was getting to your brain faster than you thought. 

This time, it was Soap’s turn to choke. Gaz was torn between wanting to laugh and wanting to comfort your plight. Ghost just stared as if he was watching the news. However, his mind was thinking all sorts of things. He wanted to mock you. Say that that was what you deserved for being so arrogant about your intelligence. He felt the instinct to trash talk you to recover some of the pride he lost today. 

Yet, he couldn’t. In fact, he began to feel a foreign pity for you. If you knew that he was pitying you over something like this, you would absolutely rip him a new one. That didn’t stop his eyes from softening for just a moment, though. A moment that you noticed with those sharp eyes of yours. 

Finishing your drink, you slammed the glass on the counter, nearly shattering it. How dare Ghost look at you like some tragic whore! So what you never orgasmed from sex! You were doing just fine when it came to solo-sex escapades. You didn’t need anyone to satisfy you. You only needed yourself. “I do perfectly fine when I masturbate. Don’t get it twisted. Other people just don’t satisfy me. It’s whatever.”

In a simmering fire, you got up from your chair and left the bar for the night, leaving your teammates wondering what the hell got you so worked up all of a sudden. 

Only Ghost knew the answer to that. 

~

Arriving back on base on your motorcycle, you headed straight to your lab. It was quiet. The dead of night. Everyone else was either back home, sleeping in the barracks, or partying it up downtown. You had an apartment to go back to, but you always found yourself coming here instead. 

Settling your helmet and jacket on the coat-rack, you made yourself at home. Dim-emergency lights softly illuminated unfinished projects on tables. Pieces of wires, circuits, and bolts littered every corner of the room. The place looked small and cramped during the day, scientists and engineers squished together in a lab that was second priority compared to the more athletic-based facilities. In the night when no one was here, the place looked like a tech graveyard. Vast, dark, and cold. 

You headed towards your usual workstation, a large workshop desk that was overflowing with unfinished blueprints of inventions that haven’t panned out just yet. A lot of the struggle came from lack of funding. Some of it came from unrealistic expectations. Science was an investment, something that most military dogs failed to realize. It’s why you always pushed yourself to work constantly and prove what the proper time and resources could bring. 

You were essentially killing yourself in order to make them see the worth of your department. 

Looking through the blueprints, you settled on one that was worth revisiting. A Russian Doll bullet that would save ammunition and materials to build said ammunition. The idea was to invent a bullet that would be compatible with most firearms, shoot an outer layer of bullet without shooting out the inner layer, and repeat until the last of the bullet is gone only to be replaced by another Russian Doll bullet. 

It would effectively turn a six-shooter into a twenty-four. It would save so much ammo and save many soldiers the reload time. 

The only problem you haven’t solved yet was the instability of gunpowder. 

That’s what you decided to work on tonight. Taking a seat in your worn out swivel chair, you opened your drawers and pulled out your materials. Bringing a magnifying glass close to you, you began to disassemble a few bullets. It was always a good idea to build things by first taking things apart. 

As you worked, you heard the sound of the lab door open. It was still much too early for the morning crew to come in, so you wondered who it could’ve been. Maybe Price had come to lecture you about how you left things at the bar. It wouldn’t be the first time he had to talk to you about your temper. 

Turning around, you were surprised to meet your rival, peering over all of the electronic corpses on the tables. He didn’t come here very often. You were always here after all. He knew you were always here. He shivered, noticing just how chilly it was inside the lab. The air conditioning was running on full blast. “Feels like a meat-locker in here. How can you work like this?”

“What do you want?” You sharply retorted, nerves already on edge at his presence. The lab was supposed to be your refuge. Your paradise. And here came the snake. 

“Relax. I’m not here to fight. I just wanted to talk to you about the focus.” He treaded carefully, his own instincts waiting to fire off like they were used to when he was with you. A lightbulb in his head just went off just then. He realized just how bad the relationship between the two of you was since his first real instinct was to yell at you. Ghost knew you felt it too. 

He was supposed to be the 141’s Lieutenant. He was supposed to bring the team together for his captain. And here he has been for two years, trying to push you out. 

Ghost has never even approached you without the intention to fight or yell or demand since the first day he met you.

Christ, was there any recovery from this? Ghost took a deep breath, trying to choose his words carefully for once. “The focus is great. You did a good job.”

“Don’t fucking pity me.” You snapped, turning back to your desk and igniting sparks as you bonded metal with heat. A hurricane brewed in your chest. Did he seriously come all this way to pity you? The gaze in his eyes should have been enough. It made you leave the bar!

Ghost felt that fire rising in his throat, wanting to say something back that would hurt you. Old habits die hard. It was a tough pill to swallow. “I’m not trying to pity you. The focus is going to help a lot of soldiers. It’s going to save a lot of people.”

You paused, unsure if his words were genuine or misleading. You’ve fallen into that trap before, hearing what seemed like a compliment only for it to be backhanded. It was unfortunate that you didn’t trust a word that came out of his mouth. “Why did you look at me like that at the bar?”

He knew exactly what you were talking about, but he wished he didn’t. He didn’t really want to talk about your sex life when it was just the two of you. Especially not when the two of you haven’t even had one decent interaction with each other. Goosebumps prickled all of his skin, his teeth nearly chattering. How could you keep it so fucking cold in here?

“I felt sorry for you.” He admitted, finding himself unable to lie to you or change topics. At least from the beginning, he has always been honest with you. 

As you heard the words you loathed to hear, you put down your tools, hands becoming too shaky to handle them with all the rage storming inside you. “I-”

“I felt sorry that no one has liked you enough to satisfy you.” 

Well, that didn’t exactly sound right.

Your mouth opened in shock at his dig. His eyes widened as he heard the words coming out of his mouth, realizing that it sounded completely fucking wrong. He held his hands up in defense, scrambling to explain himself before it was too late. 

The hurricane was in full swing, though. But instead of bringing thunder, it only brought rain. The corners of your eyes prickled with tears before streaming down your flushed cheeks. A lump choked in your throat choked the air out of you. You thought you could say something hurtful back. You always did before. But this time, his words cut a little too deep.

None of your relationships have lasted long. Not even with people you agreed to just be sex-friends with. They always ended up leaving. Whenever you asked what went wrong, they always blamed it on your demeanor. Your personality was too particular. Your interests were too complex. Your high expectations were too much. 

It was one of the reasons you kept a distance from the 141. They loved your company as far as you knew. But only in small doses. Who knew what would happen if they really spent time with you? They would probably get sick of you over time too. Ghost hated you since day one after all. 

No one liked you. You thought that you were fine with that at this point, but clearly you weren’t.

Ghost stood frozen in time, completely taken aback by your sudden tears. He expected screaming. He expected hitting. He expected icy retorts. That’s all he has ever known you as. He never in a million years expected tears. 

It made him feel like he was the biggest piece of shit on the planet. And the worst part was that he didn’t even know what to do about it. 

All of his years of hatred for you melted away as he watched you crumble, your distrust for him putting up more walls between the two of you. Jesus, how does he fix this now?!

“Byte, I-”

“Don’t you think I already know that no one likes me? You think you’re the first person to hate my guts?!” You spat, some of the lightning finally coming out. The tears kept coming, but it was somehow better for Ghost. He felt more used to that dangerous spark you had. It made you easier to approach now. 

“I didn’t mean it like that. Poor choice of words. Honest. I just meant that. . . I . . . Everyone deserves to be loved enough to the point of satisfaction. You work hard and give us countless advancements to use. You deserved to be satisfied. You deserve to have someone that will put the work into you too.” He finally managed to find the right words, nearly running out of breath with all the effort he had to find them. He was never really good at heart-to-hearts. 

You looked at him in shock once more as he attempted to salvage the hurt he caused you. This was beyond confusing for you. Your brain that worked so hard everyday, that could think up a million things at any given time, was at a loss for words. 

In your uncertainty, you followed your instincts. And that was to turn back around to your desk, wipe your eyes, and get back to work. It was the only constant in your life that you could rely on. The best way to think. 

Ghost didn’t blame you for returning to work. He probably wouldn’t know what to say either if it was him. Instead of pushing it any further, he decided that it was probably best to leave. Before he headed out of the lab, he turned back and looked at you. 

You did the same, the moment of work gracing your senses. In the end, he did try to pay you a genuine compliment. You were always the type to reciprocate fairly. “Thanks, Ghost.”

There was a certain way you said your thanks that made Ghost’s heart skip a beat. A sense of gentleness that he’s never heard from you before. The way your eyes shone bright from leftover tears had him stunned. Were your eyes always that pretty?

He turned quickly and left, the back of his neck heating from the intrusive thought he just had. As he walked back to the barracks, he sighed. The air outside was much warmer than the environment of your lab. So much easier to breathe. It felt suffocating being in there. Out here, he could let his mind relax.

And yet, he couldn’t stop thinking of you. 

~

The two of you didn’t fight as much anymore. Sharp words slipped out every now and then, but neither of you kept feeding the fire once they were said. Most of the time, you two were just back to avoiding each other. Though, the both of you had your own reasons. 

You found yourself just at a loss of words when he was civil. It was that distrust that still lingered that made it hard for you to interact with him. It was especially difficult to be around him when he was actively being polite. Praises for your work, helping you carry heavy boxes across base, or prioritizing processing your submitted paperwork was always done either curtly or in silence. It was foreign to you.

And the energy you saved now that it wasn’t spent on fighting was now put to use by noticing him a little more. You always couldn’t help but stop and stare as he helped carry equipment with you from the lab to the armory. The way his biceps flexed with ease at the heavier load. The way his eyes remained stoic even as he embraced your inventions. Ghost was now more on your mind than ever, and you didn’t know how to feel about it. 

Ghost, on the other hand, was now always thinking about you. He felt the urge to get closer to you. To get to know you better. To help you out in a way that didn’t look down on you like he’s always done. He couldn’t stop thinking about your eyes too. How bright they were under the sun or moon. How they watched him under such careful supervision, trying to decipher if his good will was real or not. 

Even in moments where he didn’t want to think about you, he found his mind wandering anyway. Ever since that night in the lab, he felt his feelings change. Two years of anger and resentment for you have nearly melted all away only to be replaced by something else. And he didn’t know how to explain it. 

All he could do was try to keep cool. Remain civil. Avoid too close of interactions with you. 

It was working for the both of you for months until you were assigned to a mission together.

The team had noticed that the both of you were getting along in the loosest sense of the term. They wondered what caused such a shift, but they never asked out of fear of resetting the apparent progress. Instead, Price tried to push more progress by assigning the both of you to work an undercover mission. 

A wealthy investor of nuclear weaponry was suddenly pouring a lot more money than usual into a country with a rising dictator. The investments coincided with less threatening ideas such as climate change prevention and DNA study in order to balance out interest. The goal was to detain this investor, question him about his relationship with this dictator, and then hopefully stop a dangerous man from getting his hands on advanced nuclear power. 

The way in was at a formal event promoted by the science community. Conservationists, biologists, engineers, and more were going to be present to try to win over some other wealthy investors that would be there including celebrities, CEOs, and politicians. It was a high brow event which made the need for scientific knowledge apparent. 

And who knew more about such science than you?

Intimidation invitations in hand, Ghost waited in a hotel lobby, a crisp, black tuxedo hugging his form as if tailored to him. The skull balaclava was swapped with a simple black face mask, covering enough of his identity which made him feel better about all of this. Looking at a nearby mirror, he checked his blonde hair. He’s never dressed so formally in his life. 

He suddenly wondered if you would like it. 

You still need a moment to get ready, always one to check twice to make sure you had everything you need. Your heart raced in your chest, your nerves tingling with adrenaline as you prepared to see this mission through. You’ve been on the field a couple of times. Never under-cover. The fact that you would probably have to do most of the talking made you nervous. 

People didn’t like you. That weakness of yours was clouding your confidence. Being a woman in science was already a tough world. Would you be able to keep your personality in check if you faced such a conflict?

Nervously, you headed down to the lobby, adjusting every dress each step of the way down. When you spotted Ghost from a distance, you froze. You have never seen him so cleaned up before. When you were coming down, you half expected him to appear like he always has. Military uniform, skull mask, strapped with obvious weapons. 

You didn’t know that his hair was so. . . 

Finding yourself at a loss for words again, you steeled yourself. As you got closer, you realized that your heart was racing for an entirely new reason. Your lieutenant was much more attractive than you thought. 

And he was technically your date for tonight.

Ghost caught your figuring in the corner of the mirror, making him turn around. Time stood still for you once again as you appeared before him looking like someone straight out of a romance movie. Your dress hugged your curves in all the right places, every strand of hair was styled beautifully to frame your face, makeup only highlighted just how beautiful you naturally were. 

How could he never see just how beautiful you were before?

You walked closer and cleared your throat, that voice he thought was so annoying before now sounding like the sweetest violin. “Lieutenant, you look good this evening.”

This was the first compliment he’s ever received from you. It made his stomach do flips. What was happening to him? Pull it together!

“Thanks. You look great tonight. Ready?” He offered his arm, waiting for you to take it. 

Your heart could barely take it as you looped your arm around his, touching him so intimately for the first time. Heat radiated from his body. The biceps you found yourself staring at before felt solid under your touch. You looked up into his eyes, the glacier blues melting into a deep ocean. Looking away suddenly, you attempted to hide your blush. He was looking at you so intensely that it startled you.

“Do you have to stare?” You questioned a little too sharply than you intended. You braced yourself for him to say something equally sharp, something Ghost felt in your arm that was hooked around his. 

He averted his gaze, now conscious of the way his eyes naturally followed you. His mind searched for an explanation for his lack of discretion. The unexplainable pull that you had on him. Jesus, it was like he was. . . 

Oh. Oh no.

“Sorry.” He mumbled, trying to keep his feelings in check. How could he spend two years praying for your downfall to all of a sudden being-

He didn’t want to think about it. Didn’t even want to entertain the likely possibility. Even if he wanted to act on his feelings, did he really deserve to after all the fighting for two years? You would probably never truly accept him after all the things he’s said and done. You weren’t completely innocent either, but Ghost had to face the fact that he was the one that started it all. Before even knowing your name, he insulted you, unable to keep his opinion on tech in weapons in check. A matter that wasn’t even your fault to begin with. 

What the hell was wrong with him back then? What the hell is even wrong with him now?

“Hey, Earth to Ghost. You okay?” You asked, noticing how he seemed to be just staring into space as they waited for the car to pick them up. There was a brightness in the night, a rain having just finished its pour. Puddles on the ground reflected the city’s lampposts, cars flashed their lights, and much to Ghost’s dismay and pleasure, your eyes shined replaced the stars. 

His voice was deep and agitated, more so upset with himself than with you. “I’m fine. Just nerves.”

At that you smirked that devilish smile that he hasn’t seen in a while. It pissed him off to no end before, but now it made his heart flutter. “Wow. The great Lieutenant Ghost has nerves. Never thought I’d hear that. Makes me feel a lot better, though.”

“And why is that?” He inquired carefully, almost afraid to hear the answer. 

You shrugged, actually starting to feel at ease for the first time in his presence. The butterflies were still there. They were just much more manageable now. “I am nervous as well.”

Before he could question you further, the designated car pulled up in front of the hotel. Gaz, parading as the chauffeur for tonight, got out of the car and held open the passenger door for the both of you to get in. Soap wanted to do this job, but Price refused. He knew that he wouldn’t be able to shut his mouth if he saw the two of you together like this. Gaz at least had a filter.

He played the role to a tee, onlookers staring as he took off his hat and bowed. “Good evening. You both look dashing tonight. Especially our lady.”

The cover was working smoothly. Together, they really looked like A-list people. The civilians would have never guessed that they were all just soldiers. Drinking in their looks, you let it replenish your confidence. You got into the car followed by Ghost, Gaz shutting the door once everyone was settled. As he drove to the venue, he went over the mission details. 

“We’ll be keeping an eye on you the entire time. We have access to all the venue’s cameras and we have mics hidden throughout the building. Some security is our own too to keep an eye on things. This place will be packed full of civilians, so violence must be kept to a minimum. Non-existent preferably. If anything does go wrong that we don’t notice, use the codeword.”

You nodded at all of the information that will keep you safe, reading the mission file to brush up on before the big show started. Ghost looked over your shoulder, also reading the file once again. Mostly though, he noticed how intensely you studied. You didn’t want to be the reason why this mission failed. You couldn’t afford that. 

When the car slowed in front of the venue, you looked out. At least a hundred people were outside, dressed to the nines, ready to spend their money or ask for money. Your blood suddenly became cold as you looked at all the people. There must have been hundreds more inside.

Gaz parked the car and stepped out, getting ready to open the door for you. However, you were a statue. Unmoving. There was panic in your eyes. You looked the part for this. Could you talk the part too?

A warm, large hand landed on your shoulder, gaining your attention. Ghost looked at you with steady eyes, his tone slow and soft as honey. “You got this, Byte. You’re probably smarter than everyone here. I’m right by your side too.”

It was relieving hearing those words come from him. He was encouraging you like he was your lieutenant. Like you were part of his team. Your heart swelled as you looked into the eyes you’ve been trying to avoid. It looked like he was finally seeing you after all this time. 

With a deep breath and a new steely expression, you nodded to Gaz through the window. He opened the door and Ghost stepped out first. You took the hand he offered you and came out, the buzz of intellectual conversation in the air. 

Gaz drove off, leaving the mission to the two of you. Ghost led the way up, your arm in his like it was always meant to be there. Miraculously, the two of you looked like the ideal date. It made getting into the venue easy as Ghost handed over the invitations to the guard at the entrance. “Welcome, Mr. and Mrs. Riley. Have a fun night!”

The both of you couldn’t help but blush at the shared name. To be referred to as Mrs. Riley gave you ideas that you never thought you would think about. It strangely had a nice ring to it that made your senses prick up. 

Ghost thought the same thing as he guided you in. Tonight, you were Mrs. Riley, his beautiful and intelligent wife. 

The two years of hating each other seemed to feel farther away as the night stretched on. 

The marble floors were packed with esteemed guests. Large, crystal chandeliers reflected off gold jewelry and champagne glasses. A live orchestra played with precise rhythm. Everyone mingled, trying to see where the best place to put their money was. Likewise, scientists tried to advocate for their foundations. All of the talk made Ghost’s head swirl. He was used to undercover missions, however, this was truly out of his realm. 

You were better at picking up the jargon. They spoke a language you understood. The language that only the people in the lab on base understood. It was like hearing your native tongue after years of speaking foreignly. Military culture and science culture was so different, that you often missed this. 

A couple approached the two of you, led by a middle-aged woman with a large, diamond necklace and fake lilies in her hair. “Aren’t you two the most adorable couple! I must compliment you on your gown too!”

This was it. This was their test to look like a real couple out as each other’s dates. You put on a fake smile and held out your hand. “Thank you for the compliment. I’m Mrs. (Y/n) Riley. This is my husband.”

The name slid easily off your tongue, yet it sent electricity through you. There was no way you were going to get used to that name tonight. It made you feel lightheaded when you said it. How could you get so embarrassed by a fake name?

Ghost was having trouble getting used to it too, a part of him wishing that the name was real against his will. Clenching his jaw, he looked out at the crowd, trying to spot the target. His large height helped, but there were too many people around. They all crowded around each other. Talking, laughing, flaunting. A slight tug on his arm brought his attention back to you. You were just sending the lady on her way after a simple, pleasant conversation. Through that, you were able to figure out if the target has shown up yet. 

“Let’s go to the main ballroom. According to the recent intel, our target would be there if he’s shown up. Something about him not being able to resist a shrimp cocktail.” You directed, your confidence becoming stronger as you weaved through the crowd. Ghost couldn’t help but take in your courage, finding it hard to believe that you were once nervous. Then again, this was your crowd.

The ballroom floor was also filled with people, but also now with clear advertisements from scientists. Small signs indicated programs with their representatives, helping investors find the right place to put their money in. You read the signs carefully, recognizing a few of them along with who was supposed to be running it. At some of the names, you grimaced. 

“You alright?” Ghost asked, trying to keep his own expression solid as if he was playing poker. He found himself worrying about you now that you looked so pained. 

You shook your head, trying to clear unpleasant memories as best as you can. “I’m fine. I just. . . I hope I don’t run into any ex-colleagues.”

As if the devil was listening himself, you heard your name being called from afar, a surprised tone countering the determined piano filling the room. “Y/n? Is that really you?!”

Putting on your game face, you smiled and turned towards your former colleague and, unfortunately, ex-lover. Of course, this was going to happen. Almost always one thing goes wrong during a mission. A part of you wished you didn’t accept this mission now that you were face-to-face with someone you tried to leave in the past. 

“Dr. Emmanuel. It has been a long time.” You greeted politely, taking extra time to keep your tone in check. The last time you spoke to him was during the breakup. He dumped you after a quarrel about a missing blueprint. You were working on a project together when you were both interns at a scientific space-engineering facility. The blueprint was supposed to help the both of you land permanent positions, but it was made clear that there was only room for one. 

When you heard the news, you both agreed that neither of you would take credit until you talked to the head of the facility. That was, until the blueprint went missing. From there, you fought and accused him of taking the blueprint for himself to get the job. Your hunch was right when you saw the new employee ID card he hid in his wallet. 

You called him a traitor. He called you deplorable. You claimed that most of the blueprint was your design. He reasoned that if you had the job, you would neglect him anyways with your workaholic nature. He then dropped the bomb that he hated working with you, that you made him feel insecure in bed with your inability to orgasm with him, and that you were just becoming into someone he loathed with your particular personality. He accused you of not loving him enough.

So he took the credit and ran, leaving you to figure out what the hell you were going to do about a job. That’s when you decided to join the military as a weapons engineer. Some time after, you joined the 141. 

“It has been some time, hasn’t it? I’m surprised to see you here? Are you here as a scientist or an investor?” Your ex inquired, sizing you up as someone to take advantage of or as competition for investors. You knew his game and you knew it well. You only had to learn the hard way once before you learned your lesson. You never made the same mistake twice. 

Ghost noticed how your expression hardened, yet you maintained that fake, pearly smile. What was this man to you? How did you know each other? 

Why did he care so much?

“He is the investor and I am the scientist. This is my husband, Mr. Riley.” You announced, now saying the word “husband” with your full chest. Your ex’s eyes widened briefly before twisting into a smile that showed hints of disgust. 

Nonetheless, he held out his hand for a handshake. “Pleasure to meet you, Mr. Riley. It is an honor meeting a man that could tame such a work-driven woman.”

Before you could shoot back some venomous words that were bubbling up on your tongue, Ghost took his hand and gripped it tight with that soldier strength of his. Your ex seemed distraught as pain shot through his hand that was being crushed. Ghost didn’t let up. “I’d prefer it if you didn’t look down at my wife, doctor. I love her just the way she is. I’m sure she has accomplished much more than you as well.”

“Now, if you will excuse us, we have better things to talk about with other people.” Ghost finally let go, bruises already starting to form on the crushed hand of your ex. While you normally would pop off at him for standing up for you when you could’ve done so yourself, you were too busy thinking about his words. The L-bomb he dropped seemed to flow so naturally from him. It made you feel flustered. 

As Ghost led you away, he leaned down to whisper in your ear. He took your flustered expression as you being upset. He wouldn’t be surprised if you were upset with him or your ex-colleague. He knew he triggered your pet-peeve and he wanted to apologize. For now, though, he had to settle with a raincheck. “We’ll talk about that later. Do you see our target yet?”

You snapped back into action, being reminded that you have a mission to accomplish above all else. Looking around, you tried to spot the target. As predicted, there he was, gorging himself on shrimp and champagne. “10 o’clock.”

He looked over and confirmed. “Target spotted. Good eye. Ready?”

Taking a few deep breaths to reset your brain, you nodded. Swiftly, the both of you approach the target just as he was taking another flute from a silver tray. You changed your serious demeanor into a more graceful one. Someone worth giving money to. Someone that the target will like. “Mr. Marston. I was hoping to finally meet you tonight. I am Y/n Riley. This is my husband. You are such an inspiration to both scientists and investors.”

“Ha! A couple of fans with good taste! A pleasure to meet such a handsome couple! I’ve been in the business for a long time though, so I know you must want something. Can’t pull the wool over these eyes, even if they are old.” He laughed cheerfully as he raised more alcohol to his lips. 

It seemed that this would be easier than you thought. People like Mr. Marston made you sick. People with way too much time and money on their hands to shape the world as they saw fit, regardless of the good of the people. Nuclear war would be a disaster. And yet, this man treated it as lightly as the glass in his hand. Careless. Spilling over with each movement. Such a fragile thing away from one wrong move before shattering into a hundred pieces. 

“With age comes experience and wisdom. I am a scientist looking for an investor. Though my studies tend to be a little. . . unconventional.” You buttered him up before casting your line. All he had to do was take the bait.

And that he did. His eyebrows rose with interest at your choice of words. He felt his wallet burning a hole in his pocket. “Unconventional, you say? Well, I am all for out-of-the-box solutions to our world’s problems. Care to elaborate on your odd studies?”

You looked up at Ghost, awaiting some sort of signal that you may proceed with luring the target to where you needed him to be. He gave a single nod, disguising it as full support for his lovely wife. You were handling this much better than he expected. Or perhaps, this is how you always were under pressure. His judgment was always just too clouded with contempt to see it. 

“We would love to talk about our project, but such a thing is rather sensitive in nature. I would hate to upset some over-hearers. Perhaps we shall meet later once the formal is over?” You played cautiously, not yet reeling in such a loose bite. 

“Oh my, now you really have my interest! There are a few study spaces at this venue reserved for investors and scientist contract negotiations. I haven’t committed to any facility yet, so why don’t I start with reviewing you? What do you say?”

Hook, line, and sinker. “That would be most ideal, Mr. Marston. Just lead the way.”

Grabbing a few shrimps to go, the target led the way to a more private area of the venue. Everything was smooth, all according to plan. The crowd parted away for the richest investor here, making the exit quite swift. Once the three of you separated from the main event down to a much quieter room, Ghost detained him with cuffs. A button on his watch was pressed, signaling to the team that the target was in custody. 

“Wh-What?! What is all this now?!” Mr. Marston protested, hoping that someone would come to his rescue. 

“Lieutenant Ghost and Sargent Byte. You are being taken into military custody for involvement with nuclear investments. We just need to ask you some questions.” You explained carefully, trying to keep the target calm so you didn’t attract unwanted attention. Cool, calm, and collected. Ghost thought it was a good look on you. You weren’t normally involved like this, so he couldn’t help but think so. 

He had it worse than he thought. Seriously, what was with him?

While Ghost took his hands off the target for a moment to reach for his phone, feeling an incoming message, the target swirled around and tried to bolt. Not in the direction of an exit, though. Instead, he was running straight to you, binded fists raised to strike you. Thanks to your self-defense classes through the military, you acted on pure instinct. You dodged his fists and struck his jugular with a sharp strike of the side of your hand. He gasped for air and collapsed, tears streaming down his face as if he would die from the loss of oxygen. 

Ghost’s attraction to you increased tenfold as you nonchalantly fixed your dress like a meager wind just caused only slight agitation. He forgot just how capable you could be physically, not just intellectually.

Right on time, Price waltzed in wearing his common military uniform. He didn’t even bat an eye at the struggling target. “Transportation is outside. Well done, you two! It was about time you worked together on something. I hope to see more of this in the future!” 

You made some distance between you and Ghost, not wanting anyone to get the wrong idea. For some reason, it pained Ghost to see you put up that wall again so soon after the mission. Was this the first and last time you would get along so well with him?

No, he decided. He told you that he would speak to you later about the interaction with Emmanuel. Then, he would knock your walls down. Finally get to know the real you.

From there, we can really determine if his feelings were just a fluke or not. 

~

You were back at the hotel, wiping your makeup off and stripping yourself out of the formal dress. Your muscles ache at the new freedom, having been fed up with such a fitted dress and heels. After showering and putting on some pajamas, you got into bed and began to read. You were rewarded for your work with a one-night’s stay at the luxury hotel, and you were taking full advantage of it. 

After reading, you were going to order hotel service and then go to bed. The life of luxury that was more than enough for you. As you began reading the next chapter of your book, you heard a knock at the door. Sighing, you bookmarked your page, and answered it. You were surprised to see Ghost standing there, smelling like fresh maplewood and citrus soap. A plain shirt clung to his torso and pajama pants made him look like a new man altogether. He had his black facemask on still, but once he let himself in, he took it off. 

This was the first time you have ever seen his full face uncovered. You noticed the small scar on his upper lip that matched the one on his right brow. His jaw was strong as if chiseled from marble. You couldn’t deny it. Ghost was a very attractive man.

“Sorry to barge in like this. I said we were going to talk, so here I am.” He explained, taking a seat on the edge of your king bed. He was drinking you in too. The pajama shorts that showed off your thighs, the cami that exposed your delicate shoulders. Your hair was still damp and scented with lavender and vanilla. His heart picked up speed as he felt a pull of attraction to you. 

How could he have ever hated a beautiful thing like you?

You found it a little rude that he just barged in, but you let it slide for once. From his tone, he didn’t seem like he wanted to fight. Besides, those deep blues were starting to melt your icy heart little by little. Just for tonight.

You took a seat on the bed next to him and looked up. “What is there to talk about? He’s just a man from my past.”

At that, he felt his muscles tense. He knew that there was more to the story. Ghost detected your evasion of the subject as clear as day. It was something he experienced nearly every day before this. He knew your tell. “I know it wasn’t just that. What he said, how you looked. What happened?”

Out of all people, you least expected Ghost to hound you about this. He has never been interested in your personal life before. Then again, your relationship has changed dramatically since the night in the lab. Before you knew it, you started to feel yourself open up to him a little. 

You stared down into your lap. “He’s an ex. We were interns together, he took all the credit for a project we did, he got a job, and I didn’t. He insulted me, dumped me, and then left. I left to work in the military. That’s really all there is to it.”

While your tone tried to keep it casual, Ghost knew it was really a tragedy. No wonder you didn’t trust easily. Now he wished he broke that guy’s hand when he had the chance. 

Did he really have room to talk though? He made you distrust people even more easily when he first met you. It was about time he apologized for it all. “Listen, Y/n. I’m sorry. About everything. For the two years of fighting. All the insults, all the exclusion. Everything. I should have been a better teammate, lieutenant, and even friend to you. I’m sorry.”

You didn’t know what to say, a new trick of his that seemed to have worked time and time again. The tick of a classic clock filled the silence as you thought about his apology. The sound of him using your real name echoed in your ears. You blamed him for everything that transpired. And now he was sorry about it. Yet, the way he looked at you didn’t indicate the need for forgiveness. He wasn’t entitled to it, and he knew that. Instead, his gaze was filled with certainty. The certainty to do much better by you from now on. 

Two years to lead up to this moment. You never thought you would live to see the day. Just like him, you slowly found your rage for him melt down to almost nothing, instead to be replaced by something soft, warm, and electric. 

You gave an awkward laugh. “I’m sorry too. I know I can be pretty unlikable.”

“You’re not unlikable.” He reassured, his hand naturally taking your cheek like he’s been doing it all his life. Ghost didn’t even realize that he did it at first. And before he knew it, he was going in for a kiss, unable to resist those pretty lips of yours for a moment longer. 

Your cheeks began to burn as he kissed you so suddenly, yet you didn’t fight it. You couldn’t. Something was pulling you deeper into him. A passion that was always there from the beginning. Hate or love, you have always been passionate about Ghost. Maybe that was why you truly hated him in the first place. 

Ghost couldn’t stop himself, deepening the kiss with each second that passed, reveling in how sweet you tasted on his lips. He’s been obsessed with you since the beginning. A fire within him had always burned for you. He just wished he realized that it was actually love much sooner. Perhaps if he did, you really would’ve been Mrs. Riley tonight. 

All the things he hated about you before were things he loved about you now. Your soft lips, your silky hair, your amazing intellect. All of the things that he could never match. You were better than him. However, he didn’t care anymore. He actually appreciated it now. 

“I’m sorry, Y/n. I really am.” He whispered as he pulled you closer, wrapping you in his embrace. You felt his firm muscles against you so much better now than before, the shirt he was wearing leaving little to the imagination with how fitted it was. 

It honestly turned you on. 

You took the initiative to reconnect your lips, your mouth opening to invite his tongue. Nerves fired off in every inch of your skin as his slick tongue met yours. Your toes curled as he felt you up, groping your thighs and waist like they would disappear any moment. His hands felt so good on you that you shivered, yearning for more. 

Things were getting out of control, but Ghost didn’t care. Tonight, he wanted you more than he has ever wanted anything from you. To appreciate all the things he was too stupid to notice before. You were sexy beyond belief. Always have been. When you were working over your desk with such a focused look, when you were gloating about your new invention, when you demonstrated a new gun so naturally in perfect stance. 

His pants tightened as his erection grew strong with each taste of your tongue. His hands roamed into your hair, gripping slightly to pull you closer. The both of you moaned when you ended up grinding against his hard cock. Once you got a taste for that, you couldn’t stop. Your hips grinded into his, sending earthquakes of pleasure through you. You could feel your panties get damper each minute as the makeout became even hotter and heavier. It wasn’t helping that it has been a while since the last time you had sex. It made you feel more sensitive than usual.

Finally, Ghost flipped you around and settled you back on the bed. He has never been so turned on in his life and you were the one doing this to him. 

There was something he needed to make clear first, though.

“I’m going to make you cum.” He promised, flashing you a determined look that had you weak. 

You blushed and averted your gaze, your voice low. “You shouldn’t get your hopes up.”

“I’ll do it. No matter how long it takes. I’m going to be the first man to make you cum tonight.” He reassured, gladly ignoring your warnings as he leaned down to kiss your lips again. As he took control of your tongue, his hands began to explore your skin under the shirt. You were unbelievably soft under his fingertips, delicate from your lack of experience on a battlefield. He now loved that about you. You didn’t need to be in the throws of battle to be part of the team. 

“You’re so soft, you know that?” He praised, deep rumbles of his voice making your brain turn into mush as it entered your ears. His kisses traveled to them, making you shiver uncontrollably as he softly bit down. 

He chuckled, a sound that was once always reserved for his male teammates unless he was making fun of you. Now, they teased you so pleasantly that your breath hitched. “Someone’s ears are sensitive. You like having them played with?”

Just as you were about to answer, he slid his hand up to touch your breasts, pinching your nipples and making you jump. “Ahh~! Ghost!”

“Call me Simon.” He demanded, yearning for the sound of his real name coming from you. It would be the first time you would call him by his real name. 

You played with it in your head, noting how foreign it felt just sitting on your tongue. Nonetheless, you gave him what he wanted. “S-Simon. . .”

“Again.” He encouraged, suppressing a shiver that traveled down his spine. It was like getting a dose of the sweetest drug. Fireworks exploding in his chest. He loved how his name sounded on your lips. 

“Simon. . .” You sighed as he peppered kisses all over your neck. Your cami was now raised up to reveal your chest, kisses traveling further and further down to taste all of you. As much as Simon wanted to fuck you already right then and there, he had a promise to keep. He had to take it slow and let it build up. He had to make you cum first.

He took a stiff nipple into his mouth, his tongue swirling around before taking it between his teeth in a gentle bite. His other hand twisted your other nub between his fingers. The way he tweaked them hard sent waves of pleasure through you, all the way down to your cunt that was still soaking your panties. It felt so good to have him touch you like this. You wanted more. 

Arching your back, you took your top off completely. Simon followed suit, stripping off his shirt and trailing his kisses down your stomach. As he felt your stomach on his lips, he buried his face deep into it. To think that he could’ve had this so much sooner if he was just nice to you from the beginning. “So soft. . .”

You squirmed a little under his slow, deep kisses to your body. No one has ever taken this much time on you before. All foreplay was pretty exclusive to your breasts or cunt with your previous partners. Simon was taking the time to appreciate your whole body. It felt so intimate. “Simon. . ?”

God, he loved it when you said his name. “Y/n?”

You were starting to like the sound of your name coming from him too. A blush swept across your cheeks. “You can be a little rougher.”

He smirked, this time making you tremble in excitement rather than rage. “Is that what you like? You like it a little rough?”

“I like the firmer sensation. Nothing too crazy.” You elaborated, always one to speak your mind even in a moment like this. If you were going to have sex with Simon Riley, if he wanted to make you cum, information like this was important.

Simon hummed against your skin, his hands working to pull off your pants. The vibrations made you sigh. Once your shorts and panties were off, he settled himself between your legs. Your dripping cunt was such a pretty sight. Pink, wet, and sweet. He bit the inside of your thigh, making you gasp in pleasure. “Like that? Is this what your previous partners did to you?” 

“N-No. . .” You admitted. Your previous partners never really listened to what you liked even if you told them straight-forwardly. At least not enough to get you to tremble like Simon did. It seemed like the man you hated before was really the best so far in bed. 

“Good. Their loss.” He murmured, biting down on your thighs soon after and leaving a deep love-bite. You bit your lower lip and whimpered, the sensation sending shockwaves. Simon kept going further and further down on you, relishing each time you moaned and quivered. He wanted more. He wanted to make you scream.

His lips latched onto your swollen clit, biting it between his teeth and flicking it with his tongue. He tasted your nectar on his tongue, a taste that instantly made him addicted to it. You arched your back and grabbed his hair suddenly, silky soft strands feeling nice between your fingers. 

Just like he wanted, you moaned his name over and over again. His tongue kept lathering your clit firmly and with even strokes. Fingers prodded at your opening, spreading your wetness all over you until he was able to put two of his fingers inside. God, you were tight. 

“Ahh~! Right there, Simon!” You encouraged, your ability to speak your mind unwavering. Simone found that insanely attractive as he pushed his fingers in further and curled right at that spongy spot that was driving you crazy. His teeth pulled at your folds before being soothed with his tongue. Your clit twitched as he pressed his tongue up against it once more, all the while pumping his fingers into your soaked pussy. 

Your grip on his hair got tighter as he kept pushing you to the edge. The sensation made his own cock twitch under his clothes, making him press it up against the mattress to grind into. He wished it was your pussy he was grinding into already, but you were so close. He could feel it. You could feel it. 

He didn’t stop his pace. Strong, even, and slow. You tightened around his fingers each second, feeling the wave approach closer and closer. You could already tell that this was going to be a big one. Your first orgasm with a partner ever. 

Tilting your head back, you moaned louder and louder. You begged for more and more, praying to a god that Simon wasn’t just going to leave you hanging. Now that would be pure evil. The worst thing he could ever do to you. But he didn’t. He just kept nipping, sucking, biting, and licking to the point that your head was spinning. 

Before you could warn him, your vision saw white and you screamed. Simon could feel you suck in his fingers so tight that he smiled as he still landed kisses on your clit. Your legs trembled, aching to close or kick out the electricity that coarse through you. Your cum was spilling everywhere. All over his fingers down to his wrist, coating your thighs in a sweet glaze. 

While you tried to catch your breath, Simon licked up every drop. “How was that? Everything you thought it would be?

You looked down to see his eyes ablaze with victory and a sexy smirk on his lips. You sighed and nodded. “Credit where credit is due. That was really good.”

“Good. Because you’re not done yet.” He decided, already stripping off his pajama pants to reveal his rock hard erection. He was bigger than you expected, all that shit talk for two years making you believe that he was making up for something. But he was blessed with the girth, the length, and the look that you knew would be amazing.

He positioned himself between your legs, coating his length with your slick. Shivers started again as the tip rubbed against your clit. The both of you sighed, enjoying each other’s bodies to the fullest extent.

Suddenly, Simon pushed all of his cock into you, bottoming out within a second. You gripped the sheets tight in your fist as you cried out. He stretched you out so pleasurably, so fully. You’ve never felt so full in your sex life. 

Simon hissed as you clenched around him. “Fucking hell, you’re so tight. . .”

Slowly, he began to move. Long even strokes that rubbed every inch of you and him. As he looked down at you, face twisting into such a pleasurable expression, eyes only on him, he heard his heart beat in his ears. God damn, you were gorgeous. 

Your eyes widened as he came down for a kiss, his tongue taking full control while his hips remained steady. The sudden rush of the kiss and his cock reaching deeper made you scratch at his shoulders. He was eating up all of your moans like candy. 

“F-Fuck~! Simon, wait!” You begged, the sensation getting overwhelming with each deep thrust. He could feel you getting tighter. Wetter. He knew that you were getting close to another orgasm, and he wasn’t going to stop for a second.

He sat up and pushed your legs down by your thighs, spreading you wide open and making you take all of him as deep as you can. You clawed his hands as your climax approached even faster, Simon ignoring all of your cries for him to wait. The sounds of your wet sex echoed in the room along with your sensual moans, causing you to get even more aroused. Christ, his cock was so good!

You were plunged into an orgasm, your whole body quaking as you arched and screamed it out. Simon felt your pussy wrap tightly around him, trying to take everything from him before he was ready. It was dizzying how good your insides felt coiling around him. He loved how you soaked his dick and crotch full with your hot cum. 

Simon grabbed your thighs tight, squeezing hard and clenching his teeth while he tried to stop himself from climaxing too soon. He wanted to stretch this night out for as long as he could.

While you settled down from your second orgasm, you gazed up at Simon who was struggling to keep himself together. You lifted your arms and touched his strong, muscular chest that was shimmering in sweat. You could feel how hard his heart was beating under your fingertips. You could feel him twitch hard inside you, aching to fuck you again. Your body was weak, though. You didn’t know if you could last for much longer. Every nerve in your body felt like it was melting. “Si-”

“I know. Your body won’t stop shaking. Just until I cum, yeah?” He observed, fingers tracing your trembling curves.

At the idea of Simon cumming, your body regained new energy that you didn’t know you had. You wanted to see it. Feel it. You wanted to see your lieutenant crumble from the power of your body. “Fuck me then, Simon.”

He didn’t have to be told twice. His hips went into overdrive, thrusting in and out of you with ease from all of your slick. You felt him hit that wonderful spot of yours that made you see stars over and over again, your body already on the edge once again. 

Simon picked you up off the bed and turned, settling you on his lap while he laid back. He didn’t relinquish any control, however. He just wanted to grope your delicious ass while he thrusted up inside you, hitting nice and deep. With the new view and new places to touch, he was losing his mind. 

You weren’t expecting this new position, but you didn’t reject it either. In fact, it felt heavenly. He hit that g-spot at just the right angle and you loved how he manhandled your butt so roughly. You liked how his eyes never looked away from your body, drinking it all in like the finest wine. From this position, you could feel his solid cock twitch inside of you.

Struggling yourself up, limbs feeling like jelly, you fell onto his chest, your tits pressing firmly into him. That sent him over the edge, his grip on your ass making his nails dig into your skin. Once you felt that first rope of cum enter you, you came for the last time.

Hot cum mixed together, making a mess out of the both of you. His chest fell and rose with heavy breaths, groans coming out with each rope he couldn’t hold back. Your tightening pussy wasn’t helping, milking him of everything to the point where he even felt tingles travel through him. Once he was finally done, he felt exhausted. 

You were exhausted too, your lungs struggling to regulate air flow. Your heart was beating so loud that it drained all other noises. Your body felt slightly numb from it all, your head getting fuzzy with each second. Simon wrapped his arms around you, holding you close to his chest as you both calmed yourselves. 

“That was. . .” He began, losing the right words to describe just how amazing that was. He’s had his fair share of sexual encounters, but never like this. No one could quite compare to you.

“Yeah. . .” You agreed, your eyes closing as you felt the afterglow take over. You felt the covers pull up over you, Simon still holding you on top of him, not willing to let go just yet. 

He could never imagine letting you go now. 

[pomefioredove]

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ something like sympathy

summary: winter break with a sympathetic vil schoenheit type of post: fic characters: vil additional info: romantic, reader is gender neutral, reader is yuu, good old fluff, mentions of food and eating + vil is kiiind of implied to have an ed word count: 4k

Different never meant "bad" to Vil Schoenheit.

...And besides that, he simply had no reason to care about the magicless student. You weren't like the others at Night Raven College- you didn't run in the halls or make obscene gestures behind the professor's backs, you didn't shout, you didn't interrupt, you didn't fight or scream or slouch.

You were truly nothing special at all, which is special itself at a place like that.

Vil supposes that's why he liked you.

And you were always alone. At the beginning of the semester, he'd seen you straggling along behind the other first years, looking like a lost puppy. Never quite sure of what to say or not say, what to do with your hands, but always sure that you didn't quite belong.

He recognized that look on a person.

Then, you were alone again. Vil reasoned with himself. It wouldn't have been unusual for a student of Night Raven to prefer their own company. But again, you weren't a Night Raven student. You were a stranger, and stranger you stayed.

For all the things he'd heard about you, your presence was not impressive. You were always meek. Quiet. You did not join a club, he heard. You didn't talk to your classmates. They didn't talk to you.

Vil had once quietly, very quietly, asked Epel about you. And those dreadful dark circles, he said. But Epel didn't know much, just that the other first years thought you were "weird" and thus you spent more of your time with the staff than the students.

Weird. That word left a poor taste in Vil's mouth.

Different, yes. Quiet, reserved, yes, yes. But weird?

"Why the staff?" he had asked, trying to sound nonchalant about the whole thing.

Epel shrugged and picked at his collar. He'd learned not to complain in front of Vil by that point. "Mostly Crowley. They do his bidding, or something,"

He shouldn't have let that bother him, but he did, anyway.

Vil watched you a little closer from then on. How you stuttered when you spoke. How you sat away from the others. How you always looked so tired and unwell and...

Stop making me feel sorry for you, he thought, as if you could hear him. Stop it.

He asked some of the other housewardens. All of them had stories, but none of them seem worried. Again, that word. Weird.

Vil corrected them each time. Different. Not weird. Different. They ignored him.

You became a mystery to him. You sat, you waited, you stood again. You ate, sometimes, but never quite enough. You looked at your paper but didn't write. It was as if you were dead to this world and reborn into your own, existing solely within yourself in the way that he could only see through the light in your eyes.

He wanted to get closer, he wanted to see that light and know what you were thinking, but he didn't know how. And he didn't want to involve Rook in this. That would only scare you away.

No. Vil Schoenheit, the most beautiful man in the world, actor, model, housewarden of Pomefiore, would have to be gentle with you.

.

"And Epel?"

He asks, serving him another helping of green beans. Epel's nose wrinkles at the smell of whatever fancy spices they'd been baked in.

"...Back to my... grandmother's," the boy says.

"Don't scowl," Vil snaps. "This is our last dinner as a dorm before break. You could at least pretend to have manners."

Epel bites back a swear, and Rook gives him an encouraging smile and a pat on the back. Vil rolls his eyes.

"And you, Rook?"

"Ah! My family is vacationing at one of our villas," he says, vague as ever. Vil doesn't bother asking for details.

"Good," he says, cutting himself another piece of fish. He doesn't eat it, though. "And the Prefect?"

The question is directed at Epel. He blinks.

"I reckon... I mean, I assume they'll be staying here,"

"Alone?"

He gives the housewarden a suspicious look. Rook's grin sharpens.

"...I guess so. No students, no staff,"

"That can hardly be safe," Vil says, finally eating. He chews, swallows, and dabs around his mouth with his napkin before speaking again. Everyone waits for him.

"How will they feed themselves? And what of the cold? Crowley does realize that they are a person, and not a cardboard cutout, yes?"

Epel shrugs. He doesn't know more than that. Rook does, but he chooses not to say anything.

"It's not like they got a lot of options," the first year says, pretending to eat his green beans while discreetly discarding of them under the table.

Vil scowls, this time. "And no one has offered to take them?"

Epel blinks. "...They don't have any friends, really,"

He shakes his head. Why is he not surprised? Would it kill the students at this school to have one shred of human decency?

"Shall I extend them an invitation on your behalf, Housewarden?" Rook says, a coy smile playing at his lips.

He's teasing, in his own infuriating way, but Vil isn't witless. Even he can be surprising.

"Yes, thank you," he says, and then returns to his meal without another word. The shocked silence and envious looks of the other students are not lost on Vil, but, this time, he doesn't scold them for staring.

.

"Leave your shoes by the door. You'll track mud," Vil says, walking inside.

You do as he says without missing a beat. It's almost adorable, how nervous you are. And it's terrifying at the same time. You act as if you haven't been shown any kindness in months.

He supposes you probably haven't.

"It's warm in here," is the first thing you say.

Not a comment about the imported marble, or the display shelf full of Vil's father's accolades, or the stained glass windows.

No. "It's warm in here", you say.

Something like sympathy twists in Vil's stomach.

"...Yes. And it's quite expensive to heat a house of this size, so, please, mind the door,"

You realize that you're standing in the doorway and promptly move inside, letting the large front door close behind you.

Your cat... thing makes a comment about how shiny everything is. Vil sighs.

"And please don't break anything. Most of the art is original and can't be replaced..." he says. "We have three meals a day, and if you're hungry between then, there's fresh fruit in the kitchen."

The little dire beast looks up at you with big, sparkly eyes, and you nod, letting him scamper in the direction of the kitchen, which he must have... smelled?

Vil watches him skid across the marble floors and crash into the wall, and he pinches the bridge of his nose.

"...Sorry about Grim," you say. You sound genuinely apologetic, and it makes Vil nauseous. How did anyone like you even end up at Night Raven?

"Never mind that. Are you hungry?"

You stare at him as if you hadn't heard what he said. You seem reluctant to answer.

Vil puts a hand on his hip. "We're never going to leave the foyer if you keep staring like that. Come on,"

He leads you to the kitchen, ignoring the sight of Grim digging through his pantry like a starved man.

"We don't have dinner until six, and it's past lunch, so I'll make you something light," he says, looking through the fridge. You stand behind him like you have nothing better to do.

"You can have a seat wherever you'd like. I won't charge you for it," he smiles.

You stare back. Sevens, now he's making jokes with you. What is WRONG with him?

He does get you to sit somewhere, though, which he counts as a win. Your little creature eventually joins you, sitting in your lap and probably covering you in cat hair. Vil tries not to think about it.

You wait until he's begun taking out plates and pans to speak. "You're cooking?"

"Surprised?" He smirks.

There's always something rather satisfying about subverting expectations. Of course, you didn't know him yet, and you probably assumed that he was just another spoiled-

"No, I mean, you're cooking for me?"

Vil almost drops the pan. Damn it. Must everything you say be so insufferably pitiful? With the kicked puppy look, too? Are you doing this on purpose?

He quickly turns his back to you, facing the stovetop.

"...I am. Is that alright?"

He hears some shuffling that he takes as a nod.

"Better than alright!" Grim says. He can hear you chuckling at that. The sound is warmer than the open flame.

"...Well... good," Vil says, trying to sound stern again. "I don't cut corners when it comes to healthy eating, and while you're under my roof, I expect the same. So... it'll be three home-cooked meals a day. Understood?"

Grim whispers to you, asking about dessert, and you shush him. Vil rolls his eyes.

"...And dessert. We're in agreement, then?"

You nod again, and he hums. Good. Now he won't feel ill every time you look at him.

He finishes your "snack" (which is more of a light lunch), and serves both of you. Grim immediately digs in, practically tearing apart the plate, but you don't even touch yours.

Vil doesn't care for that look. It's all... sad. "Is something wrong?"

And you hesitate to answer. For a moment, he worries he made something you can't eat. Finally:

"Aren't you going to have something?"

What are you trying to do, kill him? Vil huffs.

"I didn't think of it,"

Your hands remain on your lap. Grim is starting to pick veggies off your plate already, and Vil has to fight the urge to swat him away from your food.

He sighs. "Will you eat if I have something?"

You hesitate to answer again, and then you nod. Barely. Like you're nervous just being in the same room as him. Damn you.

Vil sits next to you and takes a modest portion from your plate. He hates himself for doing it, but he doesn't ask why, either. He just assumes you feel awkward eating in front of him.

Or maybe you think he's poisoned you. It wouldn't be unbelievable, considering what you've already been through at school.

Either way, you do finally eat, even though the food is cold now. You even give Grim something else from your plate when he begs.

Vil watches you. The way you eat, the way you smile at that terrible greedy cat of yours, the way you politely stack your plates when you finish. You should be under someone's Christmas tree, not sitting in his kitchen.

"...Can I ask you something?"

He'd been cleaning off your plates in the sink when you spoke again. Vil hates those sorts of questions- haunting memories of interviews and tabloid reporters flash across his mind.

"You may," he says, subtly correcting you.

"Where's the guy in all your pictures?"

Vil quiets. His pictures? His Magicam pictures? Why would you-

When he turns over his shoulder, you're looking at the wall. Oh. Of course.

"My... father is filming a movie. He won't be home until the end of break. You won't have to meet him... but he would like you,"

"So you're here all by yourself?"

Vil hates that question. He hates the way you say it. Why would you care? Why would you worry about him? You barely know him.

"...Well, there are the staff. The housekeepers. But I don't need them here every day, so I usually let them have paid time-off when my father isn't around,"

That sounds silly when he says it aloud, he thinks.

"You do...?" you ask. "...That's sweet."

Vil doesn't answer that. He doesn't have an answer for that.

.

He doesn't know how to approach you.

It's funny. Vil can handle paparazzi, prying interviewers, tabloid gossipers, demanding directors, egotistical designers, even Neige Leblanche... but he can't bring himself to knock on your door.

Five times, five times since you've arrived at his home, he's gone to you, up the stairs or down the hall, stood in front of your room, and did nothing.

Sometimes he can hear you inside, others not. Once, he came as soon as he got up, not even bothering to fix his hair, and threw open your door... and you were asleep.

He isn't even sure what he wants to say. Something. Anything.

"Do you want to watch something with me?"

Vil jolts. He's not easy to startle, but he'd been so lost in his thoughts that he didn't even notice you standing behind him. You're quiet.

"...Yes... I suppose I have the time," he says, as if he's done anything this week but imagine this exact moment. "Do you have something in mind?"

You bring him to the viewing room, to the cabinet of all of his and his father's movies. Apparently, you'd been exploring the house while Vil sulked in his bedroom.

"This one?" he asks, not bothering to hide the sour expression on his face as you held up your pick.

"Is it bad?"

"No," he says. Nothing he makes is bad. "It's just... well, I..." It's a Neige movie, and Vil is not in it for more than a scene. "...Never mind. We can watch it."

He sits beside you and the furball, who seems more entertained with rubbing himself all over the couch to get his scent on it (ugh), and the film's opening credits roll.

How he's going to sit through two hours of Neige Leblanche with you is beyond him.

A small, quiet, but biting thought that you might like Neige more than him makes Vil uncomfortable in his seat. He doesn't know why he would care about such a thing, but he does.

Vil watches you more than he watches the film. You don't react much, he notes. The jokes don't land with you, the songs don't make you smile, not even the scary scenes really get more than a yawn out of you. He so desperately wants to ask-

"Who is this, again?"

He blinks as you finally speak, as if he'd forgotten you could do that.

"...The actor? That's Neige. Neige Leblanche," Vil has to remind himself that you're not from this world, and you don't know these things.

You make a face. "...I don't really like him,"

And there it is. If Vil were not already sitting down, his legs would've given out. He stares at you as if you were speaking another language to him.

"...Hm... You don't, do you?" he asks, trying to withhold the excitement in his voice. My, my, how he'd love a look into your mind...

"He's a little too much," you say. "Just... too much."

Vil nods. "I understand completely,"

A pause. He swallows thickly. "Would you like to watch something else?"

"Um... yeah. Maybe you should pick,"

Maybe he should pick. He smiles, takes out the disc, and comes back with a different one.

"This, you should like," he says, putting it in. "...And no Neige."

You nod. "No Neige,"

.

Winter break goes on, and the truth becomes impossible to ignore.

Vil won't think the words. He refuses to let them come together in his mind, because once he's thought them, they'll feel real.

Fortunately for him, he has other things to occupy his thoughts.

He cradles his chin in his palm, sitting beside you in a way that's certainly not good for his posture, but he can forgive himself for being comfortable just this once.

You'd built him a fire. What a strange thought that is. You'd gone outside, found the wood, split it, and built a fire in the lounge. He walked in on you as it was kindling, and you explained you had been doing this for months at Ramshackle. As if you were living in another century, he thought.

And now, here you were. You and him. Sitting in front of a marvelous fire you'd made, warm drinks he'd made you in hand, Grim snoozing on a cushion behind you. You'd been telling him about your home, your family, your schooling, your country and culture... and he'd been listening. Of course.

He'd never seen you smile so much.

"Do you miss it?" he asks, his voice quiet so as not to disturb Grim.

You're quiet for a moment. You take a sip of your drink, and then put it on the rug. Normally, he'd chastise someone for being so careless, but he doesn't even think of that now.

"...It wasn't perfect. But it was home," and that's all you say.

Vil smiles softly. "I imagine NRC hasn't been the most inviting,"

You almost chuckle at his joke. He knows that's a bit of an understatement.

"...Not until recently," you say, quietly, as if sharing a secret. "You... um... this is the closest to home I've felt."

Vil's heart skips a beat. Again, you somehow manage to leave him speechless and flustered, and he doesn't hate it. Not really. And, for a moment, he could've sworn you'd almost told him that he was the closest thing to home.

It's a scary thought. In a good way, though.

"Oh, it's snowing," you say, standing to go to the window. He lets you go, taking the moment to think about what you said.

And he thinks. And he thinks. And eventually, he thinks that he does want to be your home.

And the words he'd been avoiding for days come to him.

Because he's falling in love with you.

.

Things are easy. He cooks. You do dishes. You build him fires, and he thanks you with dark chocolate and tea. The snow gets heavier, but you have plenty of movies to watch and much to talk about, so it never bothers you.

He does your makeup for you, once or twice. You never go to sleep before a cleansing face mask. Even Grim gets his nails trimmed and fur brushed.

Vil lets you braid his hair one evening. He teaches you how to tighten the braids, how to pin them back so they stay in place. He does your own hair to show you.

He promises that when the snow melts, he'll take you shopping.

"It's a date", you smiled, and his heart skipped a beat.

You stay up late one night, scrolling through Neige's Magicam and judging his posts together. Your head is on his shoulder. His arm is around you. You fall asleep like that, and the next night, you do the same.

The door to the room he'd been so scared of knocking on is always open now, because you're never inside. You stay in his room, with his jewels and awards, where you belong.

He even lets Grim sleep on the bed, when he's behaved.

You laugh more. Even at his stupid jokes, the ones he never makes in front of anyone else, you laugh. You're beautiful, he thinks.

You talk more, too. About yourself. About your home. About NRC. The dark circles under your eyes begin to make sense. Vil's hatred of the incompetent headmaster is justified. He hates him even more.

He promises you that you can stay in Pomefiore whenever you want. There's always a door open for you.

.

One night, he gets carried away. You were in bed. He'd been attending to you again, soothing your cuticles and fussing over your hair. He peels one of his nice face masks off of you and smiles.

"Much better. Softer. Feel," he commands, guiding your hand up to feel one of your cheeks. His hand is on the other.

You touch the plush softness of your skin, greatly improved by his weeks of care, and you nod. "Better,"

"Better," he echoes. Suddenly, he has this terrible, nagging urge to touch you more, and he kisses your cheek.

It's fleeting, so fast that you might have missed it if you weren't paying attention. You are, though, and your eyes are wide.

Vil feels dread. More than before any audition or award ceremony. He stares back, desperate to find his voice.

"...Is that... okay?"

He can barely breathe until you nod.

"It's okay," you say.

He sighs, letting the dread out of him in a single breath. He curses at himself for letting his thoughts carry him away like that, and he makes a mental note to work on it. And then you drop a bombshell on him.

"...You can... do it again, if you want."

Vil says nothing. He stares, his expression unchanging, as if he hadn't heard you right.

And then he moves without thinking, without caring, cupping your face in his hands and kissing you everywhere. Your forehead, both cheeks, your nose and jaw, all of the affection he'd been withholding comes pouring out of him all at once, and it takes a strenuous amount of effort not to touch your lips.

He's almost upset that he isn't wearing lipstick. He would have liked to see you covered in kisses. The thought of you being so visibly his is intoxicating.

He pulls away after you start giggling. You're both dizzy, flustered by the attention he was giving you as if he would never get to give it again.

And he smiles back.

"Enjoying yourself?"

You take a breath to compose yourself, and you nod. It's cute. You're cute.

.

"You know, when I heard that my son was bringing someone home for the holidays, I wasn't expecting..."

Vil shoots his father a very pointed glare, both for embarrassing him and for bothering you.

You don't seem to mind, though. "I wasn't expecting to be brought home, so I guess I can't blame you,"

Erik laughs. You laugh. Vil sighs.

When he asked you if you wanted to meet his father, he wasn't really expecting you to say yes. Honestly, he was sort of hoping you wouldn't. Not because of his father, but because he was beginning to enjoy being alone with you. In your own little world together.

It's already been harder sleeping in the same room without being noticed. Their home is big, but not that big. And that's not even mentioning the cuddling and kissing Vil had grown rather dependent on in the past few weeks.

"Well, I'm pleased. If Vil is happy, I'm happy," Erik says. Vil hates the way he said that, as if he already knows...

...And there's that look again. The raised eyebrows, the cheesy grin. Pointed right at him. Vil sighs.

"Really, it was nothing. If anything, I was just appalled that none of the other housewardens had extended an invite," Vil says.

Erik nods. "You'd think with all the princes and what have you, someone would've had a spare room. I guess it all worked out for the better, though. Right?"

He may as well be planning your wedding right here. You watch as Vil sets down his fork, takes his napkin off his lap, and pushes in his chair.

"Excuse me for a moment,"

He excuses himself, stepping out of the dining room and into the hall. Pull yourself together. You have nothing to feel embarrassed about.

"Vil?"

Vil's meditative thoughts shatter at the sound of your voice, and his heart picks up again. He turns to face you.

"I... apologize for my father. He's only joking," he says.

You shake your head. "I was just making sure you're okay,"

There it is again. Always putting everyone before yourself. Always making sure he's well. Always bothering him, asking if he's eaten enough, when he should be the one worried about you. Everyone should.

The other housewardens were right. You are weird. You don't fit in at NRC. Perhaps you didn't fit in before that, too.

And perhaps that doesn't matter. Perhaps that's not such a bad thing, to be weird. You don't need to belong anywhere but with him.

Slowly, he smiles.

"I'm alright. Just... collecting my thoughts," he says.

He holds out a hand for you to take, and you take it. He gives you a gentle squeeze. You squeeze back.

"...Shall we?"

[pokegalla]

Requested/traded by @veiled-rebel

I actually forgot about this one??? Well fuck it. Part 2 but whole different fandom-

Angel Dust and Husk with a crazy rich S/o who loves spoiling them

Angel Dust:

* Oh he knew you were rich honey, let’s be honest. You got the cash, he’ll flirt and get some after a quick fuck. A win win scenario. At least….that was his initial intentions. But damn he actually started liking you. You were….different to say the least. You both exchanged numbers and the rest is history✨

* He had his guard up when you kept spoiling him. Did you want another favor? Did you need something from him? No? Just a gift? He’s not used to so much gifts without expecting bad news attached to it. He might need some time to get used to it…..(constant reassurance really helps too!)

* Once he’s more comfortable, he’ll happily wear the outfits you picked out for him! Even on the outings to the mall or fancy restaurants! But honestly nothing makes him feel more comfortable with you than you giving him so much freedom as well. You gave him your credit card?! To buy anything he wants?! That’s a major trust thing holy shit- he almost feels like he’s using you. But your reassurance makes him feel at ease.

* He’s never felt this loved before….and he’s got you to thank.

Mini story time!!!

You watched as the spider demon came downstairs. Your face flushed as you saw him wearing the dress you had bought that was custom made just for him. He chuckled and closed your jaw that was hanging low from shock.

“Gonna attract flies hun,” he chuckled, a little flattered at your reaction as well.

“Heh….i hope I’m attracting your kisses too,” You answer back with a playful grin.

Angel giggled a little, “Keep that up and you’ll be attracting MUCH more tonight~” You both share a kiss and walk out together, hand in hand with no shame as all of hell watched you too. You didn’t mind what they said. What mattered was him and his happiness.

That was enough for you❤️

Husk:

* He knew instantly you were a rich kinda person. As a bartender, he picks up on stuff like this all the time. He actually didn’t like you at first. Thought you were some kind of showboat. But you did shock him when you said you were more focused on him than anything else. He was a tough nut to crack but after many visits to his bar and getting to know each other, he FINALLY gave you a chance.

* Spoiling this lil shit was HARD. He didn’t like a lot of things. But you did get his favorite booze. And booze of all kinds. He actually was impressed by how much you knew but told you not to spoil him so much- but his favorite gift was a cute bow tie you got for him. He wears it to special events✨

* You really do try to respect his wishes on not spoiling him but seeing him look so exhausted after a long day of dealing with crap at his bar? Oh you HAVE to do something! So slick little you actually decided on the perfect date! A date to the spa! You never seen him get so relaxed before! Thoooough he did figure out you were trying to spoil him again…but this time he won’t complain✨

* He finds it hard to argue when you look so happy…..

Mini story time!!!

“Yah think yah reeeeal slick don’tcha?” Husk said suddenly while sipping his martini.

CURSES- he’s figured it out already?! You had JUST finished the massages! Oh damn here comes the scolding….huh? Wait he’s giving you a headpat?

“I’ll hand it to yah. I didn’t even realize it. I’ll let yah get away with this one…..” He grumbled a bit.

Your eyes sparkles, “HAH!!! FUCK YEAH!!!”

He actually smiles a little as he sees you practically glowing, so happy that you spoiled him. You were so weird…..

Fuck he loves you-❤️

[flowerandblood]

The Lost Haven (7/16)

[ modern mafia • Aemond x niece • female ]

[ warnings: uprotected sex, incest obviously, smut, the angst, manipulation (partly unintentional), violent description of suicide attempt (blood), injection of a sleeping drug, violence, imprisoning, uncomfortable conversations, bad, bad things ]

[ description: The vacation from eight years ago still haunts his memories and doesn't let him forget what happened between him and his niece, the daughter of his sister and Harwin Strong. Their paths separate and he immerses himself in his father's mafia world until the day she calls him for the first time since those events. Sexual tension, dark, dangerous, withdrawn, thirsty Aemond. ]

Author’s note: As promised, this is another, this time official modern version of The Fall from the Heavens. In this version, Daemon is not related to the family, but is simply Rhaenyra's husband and the leader of the second gang, Alys and Larys are also not related to each other, but Larys is Harwin's brother. I will partly refer to the original series, hiding some easter eggs, and some will be a completely new, fresh plot. As in every universe, only Aemond calls her Rhaenys and this is not her real name (she is unnamed character and the others also do not know that he calls her that). There will be a lot more brutality and angst in this version, so watch out. You can read this as a standalone story.

Series & Characters Moodboard Aemond & Rhaenys Moodboard

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Next chapters: Masterlist

_____

He could have become a father.

Could was the key word in his life: he could do a lot of things theoretically, but for the most part the line between what was accessible to him and what was not was clearly drawn.

He couldn't escape the world that was consuming him.

He couldn't change who he was.

He couldn't marry his niece, at least in the light of social morality.

But he could become the father of her child because she hadn't taken the pill.

This news thrilled him so much that for a moment he forgot that his own father was dead.

And the complications that came with it.

Looking at his body in the morgue, he thought that perhaps a good thing had happened: Viserys looked sick and tired, his face expressing relief.

He was with his first wife now, the one he really loved, he thought with regret, and felt a squeeze in his heart, seeing his niece's face in his mind then, as she laid beneath him, panting loudly, seared, warm and wet only for him.

He grunted, shifting from foot to foot, recognising that he shouldn't be thinking about it right now.

Only Rhaenyra, Helaena and his mother wept over his body.

Neither he nor Aegon shed a single tear.

The next day he felt excited like a small child and terrified at the same time: it was the first time he was to see the University from the inside, to talk to the professor and on top of that, to see her, again.

If it worked out, they would study together.

Perhaps they would even go on excavations, just like when they were children.

Maybe there was some part of their lives that they could get back.

He texted her that he would come and was relieved when he spotted her silhouette waiting for him in the car park. As soon as he stepped out of the car he felt uncertainty and fear, wondering if this was a good idea.

What if his grandfather found out?

If he was putting her and himself in danger?

He involuntarily reached into the pocket of his jacket, wanting to soothe himself with a cigarette.

"There's no smoking allowed on University premises." She said, furrowing her brow, making his hand drop in a gesture of helplessness and impatience.

"Are you fucking serious?"

"Yes. Let's go. We'll find my professor in the teachers' common room, he's just having a break between lectures." She sighed, ignoring his tone and demeanour, moving ahead.

He had to admit that the whole campus impressed him: the lawns and the huge park around which the gigantic nineteenth-century brick building towered were full of students sitting on the grass, reading books and talking to each other.

They had no worries except their exams, he thought regretfully, concluding that they didn't even know how lucky they were.

The conversation with the professor was overwhelming for him: he had never been able to find himself talking to strangers, even less so when he couldn't leave or defend himself when he heard a difficult question.

The man sitting in front of him was not a man transporting cocaine by ship, but an old man with big glasses who was telling him that if he were able to participate in the excavations, part-time studies would be possible for him.

"Well, if that's the case, then please prepare yourself for the exams. Then we'll see what comes of it." Said the professor and stood up, nodding, letting them know that their meeting was over.

"Is that it?" He asked in disbelief, looking at her with big eyes, wondering if it was a joke, but she only smiled.

"Yes." She replied. "Thank you, Professor."

As they left, he felt discomfort at the thought that he didn't know how to act. He guessed that he had interrupted her class and should leave, but that meant there was no telling when he would see her again.

He wanted to simply spend some time with her, but he didn't know how.

"If you'd like, I'll wait and drive you home." He said offhandedly, glancing at the poster hanging on the wall right next to him, hiding his hands in his trousers so she wouldn't see them tremble.

She blinked and looked at him, surprised.

"No need. Mum will pick me up." She muttered quietly, as if embarrassed. He felt an unpleasant sting of disappointment at her words and in a subconscious reflex he wanted to hurt her because of it, if only a little, to be sure she felt what he felt.

"They pick you up and drop you off like a little girl?" He asked with a sneer, glancing at her, but the smirk disappeared from his face when he noticed the way she looked at him.

She was angry and bored.

"Ever since someone put a rape pill into my drink, yes." She said coldly, and he froze, thinking he was an awful person.

How could he forget about it, say something so ill-considered after what had happened to her?

He suddenly realised how it worked in his mind, how he reacted involuntarily to pain wanting to automatically cause it to another person, even if they didn't deserve it.

This thought terrified him.

Some part of him wanted to make it up to her, to prove that there was a part of him that wanted to change.

"Do you know who did this? I can take care of it. For your comfort." He asked, feigning indifference, involuntarily scratching his chin, unable to look her in the face.

"Larys Strong."

He looked at her, furrowing his brow.

"What?"

"I already told you. He was telling me about my father."

"But it wasn't him who put it into your drink, it was one of his people, right?"

"He asked me if I wanted a drink. I said no. Then he ordered water for me. I took a few sips from it and struggled to get to the bathroom."

He looked at her, feeling how slowly a picture that seemed to him to be just scattered shards suddenly came together, the fact that Larys had dragged her there was never supposed to be an accident, and his grandfather knew about it.

This is the last time you interfere in their affairs.

They hoped she'd call for Daemon.

That, knowing his explosive nature, there would be a shootout in which they would kill her step-father before Viserys died, so that he and his half-sister's businesses could then be easily taken over.

"Son of a bitch." He hissed out, feeling that he was breathing heavily through his mouth, that his hands were clenched into fists, that his heart was pounding like mad.

Only after a moment did he realise that his niece was looking at him with big eyes, horrified that what was happening in his mind had not escaped her attention.

"Don't interfere. Go home." She said, making him feel a squeeze in his heart for some reason.

"And when are you going to teach me?" He mouthed, realising only after a moment that he sounded like a little boy. She shook her head, as if she didn't understand what he was saying.

"What?"

"For the exams. I need you to help me. How do I reconcile what I have to do at night with studying if I don't know where to start?"

He watched as she sighed heavily and ran her hand over her face, praying that she would agree, that she would not abandon him, that she would not leave him in the dark room that was his heart.

His little lamp.

Yes, he thought, feeling a pleasant, gentle warmth in his chest.

That's what she was to him.

"Okay. Okay, I'll help you. I'll pass you the study books somehow." She decided at last, distraught and tired, making him swallow loudly with relief as he looked down at her.

He wanted to touch her.

He wanted to embrace her, to kiss her, but it seemed inappropriate.

Not after what he'd done to her.

"Can I touch your hand?" He asked in a trembling voice, feeling like an idiot, a weak, quivering child begging for a moment's attention, a moment's tenderness.

She looked at him in a way from which his throat tightened with affection, her hand extended towards him made him grasp it in his own.

He watched, breathing hard, elated as his fingers entwined with hers in a pleasant, soft embrace, her skin warm, smooth and soft, exactly as he remembered it.

He felt both moved and aroused at the same time by this sight, by the feeling of her bare body in a way that was not purely sexual, yet so intimate, private, reserved only for someone close to her.

"Walk me out." He whispered.

To his delight, she didn't let go of his hand until they reached his car. He couldn't find the words to say goodbye or thank her for what she'd done, feeling only shame, so he just got in the car and drove away.

He knew it was wrong.

He knew it was wrong and he couldn't stop.

The forbidden fruit tempts most, he remembered her words and swallowed hard, driving ahead in silence, wondering if that was indeed all this was about.

The thought that maybe not terrified him, because it meant that there would be no moment in his life when he could let her go, allowing her to live at last.

It meant that he would devour her, choke her in his own darkness.

The next day, everyone was nervous: the meeting with the notary was going to be groundbreaking. Otto was certain that Viserys had divided his wealth equally between each of his children, which would mean that Rhaenyra's share would also belong to Daemon.

"I don't think he would leave his daughter the brothels or the clubs where the crimes took place to avoid burdening her. This means that a real estate company and our money laundering business could fall to her. We will have to make steps to take it over, peacefully or not." Said his grandfather when he spotted him standing by his car alone having a cigarette.

He nodded, feeling discomfort and uncertainty, not knowing what he should answer.

"You are not yourself since the death of your father. What's happening to you?" Otto asked, looking at him with a raised eyebrow, making him press his lips together in displeasure.

Another fucking interrogation?

"I'm tired." He said coldly, taking a drag on his cigarette impatiently, looking at his family home, wondering if his father would take it away from his mother.

"Where were you the night he died? When Aegon woke up, you were not in the room."

He froze in mid-motion, letting out a loud puff of smoke through his nose, feeling his lower lip begin to tremble, his heart and stomach clenched in fear.

He couldn't remember if he had ever felt peace.

Maybe then, that night, when he felt the warmth of her body and fell asleep beside her, drunk and happy, he thought with regret.

"With my niece."

Otto laughed low, shaking his head.

"This is no time for jokes, Aemond. I don't want you to hide anything from me." He said slowly and calmly, as if trying to explain something to a small child.

He looked at him in a way from which his grandfather's expression changed, twisting in a grimace of shock and disbelief.

"Good God. What did you do to her?" He mouthed.

He grinned involuntarily at his question in a way from which Otto swallowed hard and clenched his eyes.

"Have you completely lost your mind? What has that poor girl done to you, hm? What if she tells her parents, accuses you in front of everyone? For God's sake, you're her uncle." He hissed quietly, stepping close to him and looking around, as if he wanted to make sure no one could hear him.

For some reason his dismay, his disgust, his disappointment gave him satisfaction.

The fact that he was arousing such feelings in him and other people seemed to him the most natural state he knew.

"We were just talking. About the past and the future." He lied, knowing that his grandfather didn't believe him, that he'd seen in his gaze what he'd done to her, what he'd done to her twice, and how fucking pleasurable it had been for him.

He decided that he wouldn't try to explain to him that she had peaked with him each time.

He wouldn't believe him anyway.

"We'll talk later." He hissed as his mother, Helaena and Aegon came out of their house, saying they were ready.

When they arrived Daemon and Rhaenyra were already waiting for them inside in a large, spacious office with windows overlooking the great city skyline. The notary greeted them, offered them coffee and tea, and then showed them to their seats.

He tried not to look at Daemon, feeling his gaze on him, knowing what he thought of him and that he had every right to do so.

He felt bad about it, but fuck, he wanted to be close to her and have a family with her.

He wanted to be able to love her.

Just her, just this one time in his life.

Was he asking for so much?

The notary, in the presence of the lawyers of both parties, unsealed the envelope in which was secured his father's last will, which he knew he had consulted with his grandfather.

Nevertheless, he felt anxious, felt the cold sweat on his back, a complete, tense silence all around them.

And then he began to read.

"I, Viserys Targaryen, present my last will as follows. I bequeath our family home to my wife, Alicent Targaryen, which will belong to her until her death, and then pass according to her will to one of our children. I bequeath all my other estates and properties to my children Aegon, Aemond, Helaena and Daeron to be shared equally between them. All of my investments and all premises under my business that I owned I pass to my daughter, Rhaenyra."

He stared at him dully, feeling as if he had gone completely deaf, his heart beginning to pound like mad as his hand clenched into a fist, his grandfather beside him twisting in his chair, shocked.

"This is some kind of misunderstanding." Otto said, on the other side Daemon laughed out loud, hiding his face with his hands.

He mocked them, he thought.

His father had mocked them for the last time.

He didn't understand why he felt tears burning under his eyelids, why his lips were trembling, why he expected anything else.

His appreciation, his trust, a gesture that would indicate that he understood what he was doing to ensure the well-being of their family.

Did he really think that he was taking money out of people by force, that he was cutting their faces to please his grandfather?

Yet it meant nothing.

Everything he did, everything he became apparently only made his father disgusted.

Because he was disgusting.

They all were.

"Unbelievable. We're not going to leave it like that. I'm sure this is Daemon's doing. FUCK!" Growled his grandfather, sitting in the passenger seat beside him, slapping his palms against the dashboard of his car.

He drove ahead, feeling a complete emptiness, feeling neither disappointment nor anger, wondering if he should pull over and hit one of the trees.

He wanted his father to see him as a cold, unbreakable man, one who would always defend his and his family's interests, one who could make sacrifices.

And he didn't even notice it.

All the wicked things he did turned out to be worthless.

He destroyed himself for nothing.

He had nothing.

In his mind, in his heart, in his wallet.

A fucking property by the sea.

"We will attack their family. If our clients find out, no one in the industry will care about us. We have to show strength, we have to act." Otto said, and he swallowed hard, feeling the cold sweat on his back.

We will attack their family.

We have to act.

His grandfather called a meeting in his office, which was to be attended by him, his brother and his mother. He paced around the room gesticulating, speaking quickly, Aegon as well as his mother sat in their seats flooded with tears.

He thought they looked pathetic.

"We need to give him a warning. Force him to come out with another, more acceptable offer for us." Said Otto, circling the room with his hands placed on his hips, analysing everything.

"You saw him. He laughed. He knows that he won." Mumbled Aegon, all swollen from crying.

Otto stopped and pressed his lips together.

"Leave me and Aemond alone." He said finally, making him freeze, his heart pounding like crazy.

Some premonition told him what he would want from him even before it left his mouth.

He was not mistaken, and as soon as his mother and brother left, his grandfather began to speak.

"Does Rhaenyra's daughter trust you?"

He stared dully ahead, answering him with a protracted, uncomfortable silence, feeling like throwing up for some reason.

"Aemond."

"No."

"No, what?"

"Don't drag her into this."

His grandfather pressed his lips together, leaning over him, resting his hands on his armrests.

"She's been dragged into this for a long time. If we don't take our chances, someone else will." He said calmly, making him feel an unpleasant sting in his heart.

"You knew."

"What?"

"That Larys had plans for her."

"I knew that he would act. Daemon's presence on the scene isn't to his liking."

"He put a fucking rape pill into her drink." He said coldly, clenching his hands into fists.

"It wasn't about rape there, at least that's my opinion. However, now, if he sends his people to her University, I cannot vouch for what will happen to her. With us she will be safe. We would lock her in a room in our house for a few days and treat her with respect as if she were our guest. My issue is with Daemon and Rhaenyra, not with her. Her harm is not my desire."

He looked at him, feeling a void in his mind, no longer knowing for himself what he thought of this, what was right and what was not.

"Are you going to let everything you've worked so hard for be taken away from you? For this man to laugh in our faces? What are we to use to maintain the estates your father left you? Even if we sell some of it, how many years will it last? We have to think about our future. I trust you to do the right thing."

He pressed his lips together, swallowing hard, thinking with disbelief that if he didn't, the part of himself that he had lost, that he had killed to become who he was, would turn out to be a sacrifice in vain.

Some part of him naively wanted to believe that she would understand.

"Only me and Helaena will have access to her room. I will be by her side the entire time, and my duties for that period will be taken over by someone else."

Otto smiled in a way from which he felt discomfort in his stomach and nodded, patting him on the shoulder.

"That's my boy."

He looked at his phone, at the message he'd sent her while sitting in his car two streets from her house, wondering how he could be doing this to her.

She wanted to help him change, she made an attempt.

Perhaps she was pregnant.

Hundreds of feelings mixed in his head, fear, grief, disgust, sadness, hatred and despair devoured him from the inside, forming one black mass from his thoughts.

She's not coming, he thought with a strange calmness.

She was not naive.

Daemon had certainly warned her not to trust them.

He'll return home and tell his grandfather that it just didn't work out.

But what will happen to them then?

They will have nothing to buy new goods with, or they will buy them, but they will have to raise their prices.

They will stop being competitive in the business.

They will lose customers.

They will go out of the game.

They will cease to count.

They will have no way to pay the police.

They will go to prison.

He shuddered, hearing rustling and someone's footsteps, his eyes big when he saw her breathless, flushed figure, her dark, loose hair in disarray.

She looked so beautiful.

He opened the door, unable to believe that she'd run away for him, just for him, watching as she pulled her backpack down quickly and handed it to him.

"Take this and get out of here." She muttered, but he only looked at her lips, parted in accelerated breath, soft and full.

He thought with horror that he wanted to feel her.

He wanted to be reassured.

He wanted to make love to her.

"– come here –"

"– I have to –"

"– come –"

"– I –"

"– it won't take long –"

Her gaze full of warmth, affection and trust, her parted lips, her hand that allowed him to pull her closer made him feel like his cock would explode with desire.

"– good girl – such a good girl –" He praised her when she sat on his lap at last, closing the door behind her. He slided his hands to his belt, panting hard, releasing his fat, long erection, leaking with desire at the mere sight of her.

He could only watch in disbelief as she took off her shorts, wordlessly allowing her to guide the thick, glistening head of his manhood against her slit, all pulsing with heat, slowly sinking it into her body.

He gasped at the ease with which she welcomed him into her warm, moist interior, how simple and proper it seemed.

It made him forget for a moment who he was and what he was supposed to do.

All that mattered was her, her face, her eyes, her forehead pressed against his, her warm buttocks under his fingers, her swollen, sweet lips, her slick tongue invading between his teeth, her little cunt that convulsed around his throbbing cock in ecstasy.

"– fuck – fuck, baby –" He muttered, unable to express otherwise how good she made him feel, why his hips were pounding into her so fast and so greedily, why he couldn't slow down, why he wanted it so desperately.

"– ah – G-God –" She mumbled, making him gasp, pleasant, tickling warmth in his lower abdomen.

Her soaked pussy squeezed and sucked him inside, making him pant loudly into her puffy lips, feeling his whole body grow hot, in some subconscious, natural reflex returning to where he felt good, where he felt safe: back deep, deep inside her.

He knew it wasn't just about sex: there was too much tenderness in in their movements, the touch of their hands too thoughtful and too gentle, too soft, their embrace too close, too intimate, their moans too helpless, too vulnerable.

"– Aemond –" She mewled into his throat on the brink of orgasm, bringing her clenching, moist, fleshy walls to the point where he felt a squeeze in his testicles, indicating that he was close too.

"– do you hear it? – do you hear how well you take me? – only you – fuck –" He gasped, listening to what he was doing to her, to his own niece, how loudly her sweet, little cunt clicked as he rooted into her again and again, how perfect she squeezed his cock, how warm she was, how wet she was, for him, only for him.

"– where? –" He muttered, wanting to be more responsible this time, slamming into her with a quick, sharp, deep thrusts of his hips, helplessly chasing his own fulfillment that he so desperately needed.

He didn't want to hurt her.

Never.

"– here – right here, uncle –" She breathed out and something in her words, in the way she said them made his body quiver as he reached his peak inside her, panting hard along with her. He gasped, resting his head against the backrest, trying to be quiet, feeling their bodies pulsate and shiver against each other.

He snuggled her face to his neck, feeling a wonderful pleasure and relief as his warm seed filled her insides at last, her scent, her closeness, her hot, pulsing interior calming him.

It felt so good.

So right.

"– I think I'm in love with you –" He whispered in a trembling voice, stroking her bare buttock with one hand, sliding the other between the seat and the gearbox, feeling the needle syringe under his fingers, from which he slipped the cap.

I'm sorry.

He heard her draw in a loud breath at his words, but he didn't let her answer.

He was afraid he would change his mind then.

"– forgive me –" He mumbled in trembling voice, heartbroken, her body tensed all over as he jabbed the needle into her neck and let the sleeping drug spread through her insides.

She whined quietly, terrified and surprised, reminding him of a small, innocent animal. He embraced her, feeling the remedy take effect after a moment, and her body relaxed in his embrace, a faint, weak cry escaping from her lips.

I'm sorry.

I'm sorry.

I'm sorry.

I'm sorry.

"– shhh – shhh, sweet girl –" He hushed her tenderly, feeling his whole body tremble as tears of shame, disgust and regret ran down his cheeks along with the knowledge of what he had just done to her, his soft manhood still pulsing deep inside her.

He used her because she trusted him, because she wanted to help him, because she really cared about him.

He sobbed quietly, closing his eyes, and cuddled his face against her neck, feeling her fall asleep, thinking that he wanted to take it back, that it was a mistake, a mistake, a mistake, that he just wanted her to forgive him.

Maybe he could carry her home?

Leave her at the gate and run away?

But what if someone found her unconscious, what if she fell ill from the cold, what if someone abused her in his absence, hurt her?

He realised that there was no way back.

Despite this realisation, he treated her body with gentleness and tenderness: he lifted her and slid out of her slowly, placing her shorts over her hips, laying her on the seat beside him, fastening her seatbelt. He took the unruly strands of hair from her face with his trembling hand, looking at her through tears, whooping with his own cry.

He thought she would never forgive him for this.

When he got home he went inside through the back door, carrying her in his arms, cradling her to his chest. He told his bodyguards that no one was to disturb him, ordering them to inform his grandfather that everything was sorted out.

"Aemond?" He heard his mother's voice behind him and stopped in half-step, looking at her over his shoulder with big eyes.

His mother was looking at him with her mouth open, disbelief and horror in her gaze.

"– Aemond – what is she doing here? –" She muttered, placing her hand on her chest, trying to calm herself down, breathing loudly as if she were going into some kind of panic attack.

"– we'll sort it out, Mum – don't worry –" He whispered. His mother furrowed her brow and shook her head.

"– you kidnapped an innocent child –" She said with regret and pain from which he felt a squeeze in his throat.

She was disgusted with him.

He understood her.

He longed for her to think of him like that.

He desired to suffer.

"– yes –"

He took her to the room where he had spent his entire youth until he moved into his flat and laid her gently on his bed, sitting down beside her, covering her carefully with the duvet. His hand rose slowly and hesitantly to finally stroke her soft hair, her face calm, immersed in deep sleep.

Vhagar, whom he had taken with him from his place, rose from the floor and ran up to them, sniffing him and the newcomer he had laid in his bed.

"– good girl – you will watch over her with me now, hm? –" He asked, stroking her soft fur.

Vhagar squealed, shifting from paw to paw beside him, concerned, as if she sensed that her sleeping state was not natural, something in her scent, in the drug he had given her made his dog restless.

Even she knew what he had done to her, he thought with regret.

He pulled off his shoes and placed them on the ground, laying down beside his niece, putting his arm around her. He pressed his forehead against hers, inhaling deeply her scent, letting his fingers run over the soft skin of her cheek, thinking that he was surely doing this for the last time in his life.

He felt a sting in his heart at that thought, his eyebrows arched in pain as he pressed her body against his, weaving his hand into her hair, burying her head in his neck, trying to calm himself.

"– I will always watch over you –"

In the morning he was awakened by her babbling: she was mumbling something under her breath, her hand clenched on the material of his black Tshirt, he could feel her trying to stand.

"– shhh – lie down – don't get up –" He whispered in a trembling voice, feeling only horror, only despair, only shame.

She would never forgive him for this.

"– where – mghmm –" She muttered, involuntarily falling into his arms again, recognising him and his scent, her fingers closed on his back, snuggling into him in a tender embrace from which he felt his body begin to quiver.

"– easy – easy, little one –" He said, kissing the top of her head again and again, her hair wonderfully soft and smooth under his hand.

"– what's happened? –" She asked, and he remained silent, as he had no idea what to answer her.

His lack of words clearly worried her, for she raised herself on her arm again: she looked around, her gaze hazy, dreamy, her brow furrowed as she did not recognise where she was.

"– Aemond – what's going on? –" She asked wearily, slowly understanding that something was wrong, her breathing louder and heavier, her eyes large and filled with fear.

He lifted himself onto his arm, moving closer to her, his free hand stroking her cheek as he pressed his forehead to her temple.

"– forgive me –" He whispered in a weak, trembling voice, thinking he sounded pathetic.

She sucked in a deep breath and squealed, covering her mouth with her hand as if trying to stop the sound, her eyelids clenched shut as she cried out loud, bursting into tears.

"– oh, baby –" He muttered pleadingly, kissing her red, plump cheek, embracing her tightly despite her hands trying to push him away. "– it will only last a few days, I promise –"

She pulled out of his embrace, moving away to the other end of the bed, looking at him with wide eyes, catching her head with her hands as if she couldn't believe what was happening, her mouth parted wide in a heavy, terrified breath.

"– I – I let you – you touched me, and then you – oh God – oh my God, no no no no no no –" She whimpered hiding her head between her knees, wrapping her arms around herself as if she was trying to create a fortress, and he could only sit and watch, trying to remember that he needed to breathe.

"– we just need to talk to Daemon – I promise no one will hurt you –" He muttered quickly, but it seemed to him that she wasn't listening to him, plunged into complete hysteria.

"– I helped you – I ran away for you – I brought you books just as you asked – so why did you do this to me? –" She mumbled out, choking on her own tears, her fingers clenched on her hair as if she wanted to rip it out.

He felt like he was drowning, like he was sinking deeper and deeper to the depths with every breath.

"– I know – I know, baby, I'm so sorry – but my father left us no choice – fuck, I know you understand me –" He choked out with difficulty, looking at her hopefully, for some reason naively believing that she would find justification in her heart for his horrible act.

She, however, looked at him dully and froze, her trembling hands raised at the level of her cheeks, her lips parted in a half-breath.

He was sure that she was going to say something, that she was going to shout in his face that she hated him, that he was a monster, a nobody, a disgusting creature, everything that he so needed to hear in order to find himself in the state to which he always returned in the end.

She, however, turned her back to him, hugging her body and face to the wall, tucking her legs under her chin and froze so still.

"– Rhaenys? – please – please, say something – I didn't mean to hurt you, I swear –" He mumbled, trying to touch her calf, but she flinched and moved further away from him, as if his touch had burned her.

He burst into sobs, thinking that her silence, her wordless rejection was worse than any word from her, and he was like a child who longed for the parent he had failed to look at him with a sympathetic eye again.

"– please – please, say something –"

But she said nothing.

For the next few days she did not look at him, she did not answer his questions, and when he tried to touch her she moved as far away as possible, hiding her head between her knees.

He took away her phone out of fear that she would try to contact someone and all the things out of his room that she could use to hurt herself or others.

She ate and drank only the things Helaena brought her.

When he tried to feed her, she would snatch things from his hand and throw them at the wall.

On the one hand he felt rage at that moment, a subconscious need to hurt and punish her, and on the other he felt relieved because he wanted to suffer, because he knew he deserved it.

"– you have to eat –" He sighed, looking indifferently at the big stain of soup on the wall and the shards of the broken bowl thinking it was them.

Like the shards that couldn't be put back together again.

"– what did it feel like, cutting their faces? – did you feel like the Mighty Vhagar then? –"

Her voice, cold and harsh surprised him and made his heart stand in his throat, his body stop breathing for a moment, as if expressing its desire to die of shame.

He looked at her out of the corner of his eye, feeling that he was trembling, and met her gaze, sad, tired, aloof, embittered.

"– I had no choice –"

Lie.

"– you are lying –" She stated dispassionately. "– I don't want to see or hear you – I want you to pretend that you don't exist, just like you did with me for eight years – you're good at it –"

He lowered his gaze, feeling a complete void in his mind at her words, and got out of bed, kneeling on the floor to pick up the pieces of the broken bowl as if nothing had happened.

The only being she touched was Vhagar.

He watched from the sidelines as these two slowly established a relationship with each other. His niece would reach out to her, lying on his bed, and his dog would lean out and sniff her from afar without touching her, looking at her with big eyes.

Vhagar did not like strangers and was fussy, but apparently her calm approach and the fact that she did not impose herself on her made his dog express interest in her. When she would get up to reach for one of his books on the shelf, Vhagar would rise and follow her, keeping an appropriate distance, looking at her curiously.

She would lie down in her place only when his niece sat back down on the bed.

He first saw them lying together when he came home late one evening. He had shopped for her, bought her favourite sweets knowing that she would not eat them anyway, and when he walked into the room he saw her lying with Vhagar on her dog bed.

She was crying and cuddling into her fur as if she was a big teddy bear, and his dog, despite the fact that she usually got up at the sight of him, just looked at him with big eyes, not moving from her place.

Something about the sight broke him, and although he knelt down next to his niece and wanted to touch her back, he stopped mid-motion when he heard his dog growl at him for the first time in his life.

She knew.

Daemon and Rhaenyra's fury was great: the very next morning after it turned out that she had disappeared there had been an incident at one of their clubs, where his sister's husband had stormed in with her son and several men, threatening to shoot everyone present if he did not find out where his daughter was.

As planned, it was relayed to him that their child was safe and that Otto was waiting for contact from him when he had cooled down to discuss everything calmly.

As proof that they were not lying, they gave him her backpack – the same one in which she had brought him books.

Due to what happened, after his father's body was burned, there was only a short funeral ceremony in the cemetery, attended only by his mother and sister: his grandfather was afraid that Daemon's men, who had been watching them all the time, would lead to a shooting if they appeared there even for a moment.

Despite his niece's reluctance, he spent his days in her presence, sitting on the mattress on the other side of the room where he slept at night. He knew she didn't want to feel him next to her, but he preferred not to leave her alone knowing how frightened she was.

He suggested several times that they could go out together for a walk in the garden, but she didn't even look at him.

She was simultaneously closer and further away from him than ever before.

One night he was roused from sleep by someone's scream: he pulled himself up on the mattress, involuntarily reaching for the penknife in his sweatpants and looked around the room, only after a moment noticing her shivering figure sitting on his bed.

He sighed quietly and swallowed hard, trying to calm himself.

"– Rhaenys? – Rhaenys, what happened? –" He whispered, and she twitched at his words, turning towards him, looking at him with big eyes, all drenched in tears.

"– did you have a bad dream? –" He muttered, but she answered nothing, her lips parted in a heavy breath, her fingers clenched on the sheets.

"– hey – hey, baby – it's okay –" He whispered, rising slowly from his seat, tentatively approaching the bed. She raised her shoulders in a defensive gesture and moved away a little, but when he sat down next to her and raised his arm she didn't push him away.

Slowly he placed his hand on her shoulder and stroked her skin reassuringly, with the other cuddling her face into his neck.

"– shhh – easy – easy, little one – no one will hurt you –"

She was silent, and he prayed that this moment, her warm body in his embrace, his nose snuggled into her soft, fragrant hair, would last forever.

"– I'm not sure I want to live anymore –" She mumbled out finally, startling him, his stomach knotted tight in discomfort and horror.

"– no – don't say that – it won't take long – my grandfather is in contact with your mother – they will soon come to an agreement and you will return home –" He said, forcing himself to be calm, stroking her shoulder and back with one hand, the other combing his fingers through her hair, rocking her in his arms like a small child.

"– you broke my heart –"

Her words, the way she said them, what they meant made him gasp aloud, trying not to burst into a sudden sob of despair and grief.

He had broken her.

"– forgive me – I regret this like nothing else in my life, I swear – I will spend my life trying to make it up to you –" He muttered, tentatively kissing her warm temple, her cheekbone, her ear, everything that was familiar to him, beloved to him, his.

"– I love you – I love you in every sense of the word –"

"– I don't believe you –"

He pressed his lips together, swallowing hard, feeling a sort of high-pitched, trembling squeal come from his throat as if he were a little girl, tears one by one began to run down his cheeks to the top of her head, his fingers tightening on her delicate flesh.

"– I understand it – and I don't dare ask for it –" He whispered with difficulty, sinking his face into her soft, warm cheek, feeling that he was not the only one who was crying.

Her body trembled in the embrace of his arms, her small hands clenched on his shirt in a gesture that testified at once to her anger and her suffering from which his heart was breaking.

"– that feeling I had inside me was the only thing that allowed me to breathe – and you took it away from me –" She howled into the skin of his neck, and he burst out sobbing at her words, not knowing how he could react differently to what she had said.

"– I love you – I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you so fucking much –" He mumbled out in a breaking voice, cuddling her tightly into him, placing loud, wet, hot kisses on her face, her jaw, her neck, her arms, leaving sticky, wet marks on it.

He heard her sigh full of pain and pleasure, feeling with shame that his erection swelled all over and hardened, pulsing painfully under the material of his sweatpants, betraying how much he longed for her, how much he yearned for her.

Her quiet moan surged through the skin of his neck as his broad hand slipped lower, sliding tentatively under the material of her shirt, touching her naked back at last, her bare skin, making them both tremble, breathing heavier and louder.

"– I love you –" He assured her, running his fingertips over the wonderfully smooth skin of her back, making goosebumps appear in the places he ran his fingers over. Her body snuggled into him tighter, allowing him to feel her breasts hidden under her tshirt against his chest.

"– you hurt me –" She sobbed through her tears in a breaking voice, at which his lips clung even harder to her shoulder, his kisses even more greedy and wet as his lips again and again brushed and teased the delicate structure of her skin.

"– no more – I swear – all I want is you –" He breathed out, feeling lust and desire pulsing through every nook and cranny of his body, filling his lower abdomen with a pleasurable, tickling tension from which his heart pounded like mad.

He moaned helplessly when he finally felt her warm, puffy lips brush his neck, her cheeks wet from tears as his hand pressed her closer.

"– please – please, baby, please –" He mumbled out, wanting only to feel her again, without her being just an empty part of an incomplete whole.

However, as his hand tentatively slid from her back to her buttock, she pulled away from him suddenly as if burned, hugging her back to the wall and shook her head.

"– no – no, no, no, you're doing this to me again –" She cried out loudly, looking at him with big, terrified eyes. He shook his head, heartbroken, leaning down, placing quick, warm kisses on her bare knee, stroking her calf with his palm.

"– no, I swear – I want you so badly –"

"– your grandfather told you to do this? – to soften me up so that in case my mother didn't agree he would get shares in her companies through me? –" She blurted out, wrinkling her eyebrows, breathing loudly. He swallowed hard and shook his head again, shocked, understanding how far her lack of trust went and who she now saw him as.

"– no – I was the one who demanded that I could be by your side – that no one but me could bother you – to make sure you were safe –" He muttered, trying to calm his breathing, feeling like his whole face had swollen from tears.

"– I want to go to sleep – I want to go to sleep –" She mumbled out and turned her back to him, hugging herself to the wall again exactly as she did then, the first time, making him whimper, choking on his own tears. He pressed his face against her back, wailing loudly, his fingers clenched on her waist.

"– I'm sorry – I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry – please, don't reject me – I promise I'll be good now – I'm studying, I'm going to take my exams, I'm going to go to university – please, be there for me – it doesn't matter without you – my life doesn't matter if I can't share it with you –" He whined like an animal into her shirt and heard her weep loudly, but she answered him nothing.

However, she did not push him away or tell him to step back, so he fell asleep cuddled into her body, and the next day she again did not speak to him or look at him as if this conversation had never happened.

In her presence he cried all the time and didn't even hide it anymore.

Looking at her, he saw exactly as if in the reflection of a mirror who he had become and what he had sacrificed.

However, it turned out that his grandfather was partly right in his assumptions: Daemon just wanted to kill them all, but his wife didn't feel like risking her daughter's life for a fortune and was willing to talk to them if they let her see her.

"– tomorrow you will go with us to meet your parents – perhaps we will come to an agreement and you will return home –" He said, swallowing hard, standing over her small figure sitting on the sill of his window, looking out at the setting sun.

Her profile was gentle and pleasant, her eyes surrounded by a fan of dark lashes large and bright, her lips seemed wonderfully soft, full and sweet, made only to be caressed.

She closed her eyes, resting her temple against the glass, and did not even bestow a single glance on him.

He prepared himself for the fact that she would answer him nothing and wanted to sit down on the mattress, going back to reading one of the textbooks she had brought him, but he froze when he heard her voice.

"I'd like to take a bath." She said.

He swallowed hard, looking at her over his shoulder.

"Of course. I'll call Helaena." He replied, wanting to go out into the corridor.

They never left her alone.

For her own safety.

"No." She said and looked at him.

"I want ten minutes alone."

He looked at her, feeling anxiety and doubt in his heart, but he couldn't say no to her.

"Very well. I'll wait by the door."

She nodded and stood up, taking the towel that belonged to her from the chair and went outside. He followed her, walking towards the bathroom next to his room – she looked at him with frustration as he took the key out of the lock and shook his head.

"No. I won't come inside, but I won't let you lock yourself in." He said. She swallowed hard and nodded, and he closed the door behind her.

He leaned against the stair railing, hearing the sound of pouring water, and looked at his watch, sighing heavily.

Ten minutes, no more.

He heard her step into the bath and closed his eyes, thinking that perhaps this was just another ordeal they had to wait through together.

He wanted to believe that she had seen his sadness, shame and remorse, that by his behaviour and calmness he had proved to her that he was capable of being different, for her, only for her.

However, ten minutes passed, then eleven, and she still did not come out of the water.

He didn't want to invade her privacy and make her uncomfortable, but he felt impatient and became concerned that he didn't hear any movement in the room. He walked closer and knocked, sighing heavily.

"– Rhaenys – time's up –" He said matter-of-factly. He pressed his lips together when he heard no sound on the other side and knocked a second time, louder this time.

"– Rhaenys – please –" He sighed, running his hand over his face, deciding that whether she wanted it or not, he had to do it.

"– I'm coming inside – cover yourself –" He said, grabbing the door handle and stepped into the room.

It seemed to him that what he saw before him was some kind of frame from a film, not reality: the snow-white tiles around her head and dark hair, her half-open eyelids and mouth, her hands lying on the edge of the tub, her slit wrists and the crimson water in which she lay, his sister's T-shirt on her body.

He looked down and saw a tiny blade from a bookbinding knife lying on the floor.

For a moment he just stared at it, afraid to move, thinking it wasn't really happening.

"– Rhaenys? –" He muttered, approaching her slowly, but she didn't even flinch, staring ahead as if she was thoughts somewhere far away.

"– Rhaenys, what have you done? –" He mumbled as if he was afraid that if he said the words too loudly they would turn out to be true, and yet it could not be true.

"– God, baby – oh my fucking God –" He whined, pulling her by the shoulders out of the water with a loud splash of red liquid that spilled out.

He sat down on the floor, placing her between his legs, letting her head and back rest against his chest, his fingers tightening on her wrists in an attempt to stop the bleeding.

"– baby, what have you done? – hm? – what have you done? –" He whispered to her ear in a trembling voice, kissing her soft, warm face, feeling the initial shock begin to be replaced by a growing panic and the realisation that this was really happening.

He began to breathe loudly, as he always did when he was terrified and when he needed help calling out to the only person he trusted.

"– MUM! – MUM, HELP ME! –" He shouted like a helpless, broken child and burst into tears, clasping his fingers tighter on her wrists, resting his forehead on her shoulder.

"– oh God, oh God, oh, God, no, no no no, please, baby, please, please, don't leave me –" He whimpered, rocking her in his arms, cradling her to himself, again and again kissing her bare shoulder, her long neck, her sweet cheek.

He heard someone run up the stairs, the screams of his mother and sister at the sight they saw before their eyes made him look at them.

"– Mum –"

Even though he knew his grandfather would be furious, he and his mother called the ambulance. While waiting for the paramedics to arrive, she provisionally bandaged her hands together with Helaena, as well as dressed her in a clean shirt and underwear.

He did not let her out of his arms for a second, and when the ambulance arrived he told his mother that he would go with her.

He looked at her as he sat in the car, feeling his hands were sticky with her blood, thinking it was his fault, his fault, his fault.

She just wanted to run away, she just wanted to go home, but she didn't know how.

He made her do this.

When they arrived at the hospital it turned out that her condition was critical: because of how little she had eaten she had become anaemic and needed a quick blood transfusion.

"– take mine –" He said without thinking, and when the doctor asked him what blood type he had, it turned out that he and she had the same.

He could have done something that mattered.

He could have saved her.

He held her hand, lying on the bed beside him, staring dully at the ceiling, the other clenched again and again on the soft ball as he watched his blood fill the plastic bag.

When the doctor came inside, he asked him about what he had been thinking about for a long time.

"– there's – there's a possibility she's pregnant – and –" He mumbled, not knowing how to put it into words. The man looked at him, surprised.

"– she's definitely not pregnant – the tests didn't show it –" The doctor replied, and he swallowed hard, feeling for some reason a great disappointment and sadness.

If he became the father of her child, he could be a part of her life.

He would have an excuse to talk to her, to see her.

He tightened his fingers around hers, stroking her soft skin with his thumb, trying not to cry, thinking he deserved it.

What child would want to be born into such a world?

When it was all over he informed the doctors who they should contact, giving them his half-sister's phone number. Before he left the room, he handed her back her phone and slipped a letter into her locker, which he wrote hurriedly on a piece of paper with a pen the nurse had lent him.

For his own conscience he waited in the distance, watching as Daemon's Mercedes pulled into the car park, he and Rhaenyra ran inside the building without noticing him. He sighed heavily and licked his lower lip, glancing at his phone, seeing twenty missed calls from his grandfather. He dialled his number and put the phone to his ear, feeling strangely calm and relaxed.

"She's alive?" He heard Otto's voice on the other end.

"Yes." He replied dispassionately.

"Thank God. Why didn't you call for me? You ruined everything. Our doctor would have taken care of it. You…" He continued, but he hung up, not feeling like listening to his smart-ass bullshit.

His mother picked him up from the hospital.

"How is she? Will she survive? Have you contacted Rhaenyra?" She asked quickly as they set off, afraid that anyone would notice them.

He swallowed hard, leaning the back of his head against the backrest, looking at the road with empty eyes.

"I gave her contact details to the hospital staff. They arrived, I saw it with my own eyes. She's safe now." He explained.

His mother breathed out loud, her big brown eyes simultaneously terrified and full of relief.

"You did the right thing, Aemond. No money is worth it. This poor girl." She muttered, shaking her head, trying not to cry and concentrate on driving.

"I destroyed her."

Alicent looked at him, then back at the road, her mouth open slightly in an accelerated breath.

"What do you mean?"

He pressed his lips into a thin line, feeling his brow arch in pain and shame.

"I went to her room the night my father died. We had sex, Mum." He muttered in a breaking voice, covering his face with his hand and burst out crying like a little boy.

His mother sighed loudly, shocked, twisting restlessly in her seat.

"– but – why – did she – did she want this? –" She asked in a trembling voice full of terror, indicating that she really believed he might have raped her.

He was not surprised.

"– yes – but I don't think that makes it look any better –" He mumbled, tightening his fingers on the base of his nose, leaning his head forward.

"– we did it twice – and then a third time before I –" He didn't finish and cried out loudly, making his mother breathe heavily as if she was in the same state as him.

"– oh my God – oh my God, Aemond, what have you done – she's your niece –" She choked out finally.

"– I know, Mum –" He mumbled, running his fingers over his face, thinking he already understood where her desire to end her life and this perpetual sense of unfulfillment and emptiness came from.

"– me too – I'm no saint either –" She muttered finally, looking up at him with big eyes. "– me and Criston –"

He swallowed hard and shook his head, recognising that it wasn't the same.

"– I know, Mum – you won't hear a word of condemnation from me –"

His mother drew a loud breath and wept, as if she felt both relieved and sad at the same time.

"– nor will you hear them from me, son – since you both wanted it, it was simply a mistake of youth – you are both lost and have sought comfort – but it must not happen again – do you understand? – for your sake and hers –" She said with confidence and conviction that this was the best possible decision.

"– I keep thinking about her – since that holiday eight years ago – I've tried, but I can't stop –" He choked out at last, wiping his red cheek, feeling as if he were ten years old again, complaining to her that someone had beaten him up at school.

Alicent ran her hand over her face before placing her palm over his.

"– sometimes – sometimes we have to leave certain things to ourselves – the shameful desires of our hearts – and fulfil them when no one sees – do you understand? –" She asked in a trembling voice, and he nodded.

"– yes –"

"It is not love itself that is sin –" She said finally. "– but what we do with it."

[caitified]

professional

caitlin clark x golf caddy reader ⛳️

warnings: i’m happy to make a part two showing more of their relationship, but people might hate this so lmk!! i have started part 2 so let me know if that’s something you’d like me to finish. not proof read

when the owner of the golf club you worked at told you that caitlin would be playing there in preparation for her golf tournament, you were shocked to say the least. he told you that it would be your job to caddy for her over the summer which you excitedly excepted, but in all honesty you were slightly intimidated by her stardom and attitude on the court.

the sun was just starting to rise and you were ready for your first shift. you stood by the cart, waiting for your newest client, still in disbelief at the name on your booking sheet. caitlin clark.

it’s not like you were a diehard basketball fan or anything, but it was impossible to not follow caitlin in some way. living in indiana, you couldn’t have escaped her if you tried, and if you were honest with yourself, you had grown a small crush on the guard.

you had no idea what to expect. you had seen videos of caitlin getting into it with other people and showing off her competitive spirit but you didn’t know how this would translate to golf.

as you glanced towards the club house, you spotted her walking up. tall, confident and even hotter in real life (but we won’t talk about that..🥲)

“hey! you must be my caddy. i’m caitlin,” she greeted you with a wide grin and extended her hand. she was dressed in a casual polo and golf skirt, looking every bit the part.

you shook her hand. “yeah, i’m [Y/N]. ready to hit the green?”

caitlin grabbed a club from her bag, eyeing the course ahead of you.

when she started playing, you had a bit of difficultly staying professional. every time you tried to start a conversation with caitlin, your eyes and mind started wander. she had always looked good, but in person in front of you was a whole different story.

what you didn’t know is that caitlin was having similar feelings. from the moment she saw you she felt attracted to you, but she was here to practice for her tournament and couldn’t get distracted. that didn’t mean you didn’t make her nervous though.

as a result, the first couple of holes were a mix of impressive shots and misses. caitlin, ever the competitor, got a little frustrated after her third shot went wide, landing in the rough. she turned to you with a playful groan.

laughing, you handed her an iron. “if you focus on your swing like you focus on your free throws, you’ll get it in no time”

she raised an eyebrow, clearly enjoying your commentary. “big basketball fan?”

“a little,” you admitted. “hard not to when you’re on ESPN every other night.”

caitlin laughed, a laugh that felt warm and genuine. “okay, fair enough. but today, it’s all about golf.” she reset her stance, adjusting slightly based on the critiques you gave her earlier ( which she would never admit ). with a smooth swing, she sent the ball soaring through the air, landing it just off the green.

by the time you reached the ninth hole, you could tell caitlin was getting more comfortable, not just with the course, but with you. she leaned against the cart as you handed her a drink from the cooler. “you’re not so bad to hang out with,” she said, her grin widening.

“not until today,” you replied, taking a sip of your own drink. “but you’re not too bad either”

caitlin chuckled softly. “you’re pretty good company, i have to say. plus, i could go pro with the coaching i got from you”

“i think it’s your natural talent shining through,” you teased.

bthe time you finished the round, caitlin had managed to shave a few strokes off her usual score, thanks in part to your company . as you both headed back to the clubhouse, she threw an arm around your shoulders in a friendly side-hug. “so what do you say we make this a regular thing?”

you nodded, trying to keep your cool despite the touch of her arm. “only if you promise to keep improving. i have a reputation to uphold, you know.”

“deal,” caitlin said with a wink.

as you walk away from caitlin, you tried to push down the feelings you had for her and told yourself that it was just a crush. she wasn’t worth risking your job for..right?

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

the days after that first round with caitlin passed like a blur. every morning, you’d find yourself back at the golf course, waiting for her. and every day, without fail, she’d show up with her perfect smile, ready to take on the course, but more than that—ready to spend time with you.

what had started as a professional relationship quickly shifted. there was something easy about being around caitlin. she was open, real, and every round of golf felt less about the game and more about the moments in between. the laughter. the subtle glances that lingered a little too long. and as much as you tried to keep things strictly professional, it became impossible to ignore the growing connection between you.

today, though, felt different.

the late afternoon sun hung low in the sky, casting a hue over the course as caitlin stood beside you on the tee. she twirled her club absentmindedly, eyes focused on the green, but you could sense something more behind her usual relaxed demeanor.

“long day?” you asked, breaking the comfortable silence.

she turned to you with a soft smile. “just thinking.”

“about?” you prompted, trying to sound casual but feeling a subtle tension in the air.

caitlin lowered her club and leaned on it, her eyes now fully on you. “this offseason… i thought it would be about relaxing, taking a break from everything. but i didn’t expect it to be spending all my time thinking about you.”

your breath hitched slightly. there it was—the thing that had been simmering under the surface these past few weeks. the teasing glances, the touches that lasted a beat too long, the way her gaze would drift toward you in those quiet moments on the course.

“caitlin,” you started, but she stepped closer, her expression more serious than you’d ever seen.

“you’ve become the best part of my day,” she said softly. “it’s not just the golf, it’s…everything. you make me feel like I don’t always have to be ‘Caitlin Clark’ when I’m with you, i’m just caitlin. and i don’t know… i don’t want this to end when the season starts again.”

the vulnerability in her voice made your heart race. you’d felt the same way, but hearing her say it—left you momentarily speechless. she looked at you with those eyes, her usual confidence softened by the this moment.

you took a step toward her, closing the small distance between you. “it doesn’t have to end,” you said quietly, your voice carrying the weight of everything between you. “i’ve felt it too, caitlin. this… whatever this is between us. i thought it was just me.”

her lips curved into a small smile, the relief evident in her expression. “you have no idea how much I’ve wanted to hear you say that.”

caitlin’s hand found yours, her fingers warm and strong, just like you’d imagined. the connection between you felt electric, and in that moment, everything else faded into the background.

“i guess i should ask,” she murmured, a teasing glint back in her eyes, “what kind of caddy crosses the line with their client?”

you grinned, stepping even closer, feeling her presence like a magnet pulling you in. “the kind that’s maybe a little too good at their job?”

she laughed softly, the sound warm and familiar. then, without another word, caitlin leaned in, her lips brushing against yours in a kiss that was soft, tentative at first. but as soon as you kissed her back, it deepened, filled with everything you’d both been holding back.

“i’m glad I booked you as my caddy,” caitlin whispered, her voice laced with affection. “but I think i’d like to keep you around for more than just golf.”

you smiled, your heart pounding in your chest. “i think i’d like that too.”

thanks for reading. i kind of hate this but let me know what you think, and if you’d like a part 2! i could also do 18+ headcannons for this.. do you guys like the reader POV or would you prefer something else? love you!

@connormccafferyhater @equalhealerr

[dodger-chan]

AO3 is down? Okay, well here's about 900 words of a story I don't think I'll ever finish

Edit: now on AO3

The Alibi

Clearing Eddie Munson’s name went against every instinct Jim had honed in his years as a cop. Munson was bad news. A drug dealer. A born criminal, in and out of Hawkins Police custody since he was a kid.

Admittedly, no small number of those early detentions were more about trying to track down his father than anything Munson had done himself. He’d been an uncooperative shit, though; always insisting he knew nothing while sporting bruises fresh enough to prove his old man hadn’t been gone very long.

If Jim hadn’t known for a fact the kid was completely innocent of the three murder charges. If he hadn’t been told by Henderson, both Sinclair kids, the good Wheeler, and Harrington and his girlfriend that Munson had been instrumental in beating back the monsters beneath Hawkins. If Jane hadn’t looked at him with loving expectation, hadn’t been so sure her old man would make fairness and justice align, well, Jim wasn’t sure what he would have done. It wouldn’t have been this.

This being escorting the Harrington kid to the hospital to sneakily convey the plan to Munson, and then ruin his life.

Ruin Harrington’s life, that is. It might save Munson’s. 

----------

Jim recognized Wayne Munson from all the times he’d come down to the station to claim his nephew. Wayne looked older than Jim remembered him. Eddie, pale with blood loss and handcuffed to the bed, looked younger. He didn’t know the officer standing guard in Munson’s room; a new hire while he’d been in Russia.

“It’s family only,” the officer instructed. Jim frowned at him.

“I'm not here to visit.” Jim wasn’t the chief anymore, but he still knew how to talk so the lower ranks would listen. “I’ve found Munson’s alibi.”

He shoved Harrington forward. The kid reached a hand out towards Munson, looked at the guard and stopped. He stiffened his shoulders and placed his hand on top of Munson’s. Not a bad performance.

“I thought the cops would ask me about our last date on Friday. But they didn’t come around.” Harrington kept his eyes down, but spoke to Munson. “Why didn’t you tell them? Did you think I’d lie about being with you?”

“Maybe? The whole ‘no one can know’ thing seems pretty important to you.” Between the handcuffs and the IV drip, Munson couldn’t really shrug. “You still take girls out. You took a girl to the game that night, even.”

Harrington had said Munson would figure out the plan quickly, that they wouldn’t need to feed him very much information. Jim hadn’t expected he’d not only get the gist of the plan but be able to fish for useful information as well. He was impressed.

“And took her home right after so I could meet you.” Harrington raked a hand through his hair. “You know the girls are just for show. So no one suspects. I don’t… I don’t sleep with them anymore.”

“That’s enough.” The officer looked between the two young men, then at Jim. He obviously wanted to take Harrington out of the room and interrogate him properly, but wasn’t sure he could leave his murder suspect. 

“Munson’s not going anywhere,” Jim pointed out. “I’ll keep an eye on him while you call Chief Powell.”

The officer nodded in deference to Jim’s air of authority. He left, taking Harrington with him to keep the boys from discussing their stories any more.

It clearly hadn’t occurred to him that Jim might help them get their stories straight. Ideally, he’d speak to Munson alone, but presumably the elder Munson cared more about keeping his nephew out of jail than the truth.

“Right, so after your club meeting-” Jim started. Munson interrupted him.

“I drove to Steve’s place. I parked my van in the woods so none of his neighbors would see it. Like I always do.” Munson rolled his eyes. “I got there first; let myself in the back. Steve got there maybe five minutes after me. We had a fight, about Steve taking girls out. Again. I will spare you and Wayne exactly where that led, though I expect the police will request all the details, perverts that they are.”

“You got all that from ‘date last Friday?’” Jim asked. It was almost exactly the story Steve had told him. Not the same words, not the same point of view, but the same events. 

“No, I got it from ‘last date, on Friday,’” Munson corrected. Jim wasn’t sure why the difference mattered. “So our last date, but like it happened on the Friday before Spring Break.”

Jim frowned, confused. Wasn’t Harrington pretending to be dating Munson? He looked over at Wayne, who seemed as lost as he was.

“I thought you broke up with that boy?” Wayne was apparently lost in a very different place than Jim was.

“I did, though, under the circumstances, I may omit that detail. Unless Steve is planning to say I dumped him before I left that morning?”

“He isn’t.” Harrington had asked if the alibi would sound more believable coming from a current or ex-boyfriend. Jim had thought a break-up the day of the murder sounded too convenient. Not that either would have been credible enough to clear Munson’s name if the Feds weren’t around to put their thumb on the scale. Harrington’s story was more to get them to place it on the side of Munson being released rather than blackmailed into a plea agreement.

“Then I guess he and I are officially back together.