#his shittiness entertains me & makes me love him even more
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Eddie Munson x Shy!Reader
Summary: Max and Lucas are tired of their friends silently pining over each other but never making a move, so when the Winter Formal rolls around, they take matters into their own hands.
Warnings: mutual pining, idiots in love, fluffy fluff
WC: 1.8k
A/N: Happy anniversary to the love of my life, @corroded-hellfire 💚 one year ago today, we met in person for the first time, and my life has been infinitely better ever since. Thank you for being my best friend. I love you more than Dustin loves his Weird Al shirt. Red, this fic is for you.
Divider credit to @saradika
“Kill me now.”
Three words uttered by none other than Max Mayfield, sliding her lunch tray onto the table and sitting down with an irritated sigh.
You look at her with an amused grin. “What is it this time? Bombed a pop quiz? Got detention for flipping off a teacher—again?” Her brazen, flippant attitude provided many entertaining moments, so long as you weren’t on the receiving end of it.
Max shakes her head, spearing a limp macaroni noodle with her plastic fork. “I wish.” She holds up two tickets to the Winter Formal. “Lucas is dragging me to this bullshit. ‘All the other basketball guys’ girlfriends are going,’” she mocks him in an octave much lower than his actual voice, “so I guess that means I have to follow suit.”
Bringing a hand to your heart, you jut out your lower lip in mock-pity. “Oh, no; your boyfriend wants to show you off at a school dance! How will you ever survive?”
Max doesn’t miss a beat. “You could go, too,” she says, blue eyes pleading. “Keep me company when the guys inevitably bail to get wasted in the woods.”
“I don’t—”
“You don’t need a date,” she insists, reading your mind before the words can leave your mouth. “I’m telling you, Lucas is gonna ditch me as soon as Jason and Patrick show up.” She takes your hand between both of hers. “Please? I’ll even tell Ms. Kelly the lengths you went to for your poor, troubled freshie.”
You exhale, knowing that she doesn’t need to go to all of that trouble. You’d started off the school year as her peer mentor, but just a few months later, you two have become close friends. “Fine, I’ll go,” you acquiesce, laughing when she pumps her fists victoriously. “But I’m not gonna be happy about it.”
You return to your own lunch, completely missing the mischievous look that graces her freckled face.
Unbeknownst to you, a similar discussion is had at Hellfire Club later that same afternoon.
“Absolutely not,” Eddie scoffs, folding his arms across his chest. “Nice try, Sinclair, but I wouldn’t be caught dead at some lame dance.”
“Seriously,” Jeff smirks from his position across the table. “He’s never been to a single one in his ten years of high school.”
Eddie flips him off casually. “It’s only six, asshole. But that doesn’t matter, because I’m not dressing up in some penguin suit to drink unspiked punch with a bunch of shitty people.”
“C’mon, dude,” Lucas says, his tone bordering on a whine. “If you don’t go, I’m gonna be stuck with the jocks all night, and they just wanna suck face with their girlfriends.”
“And you don’t?” Gareth quips.
Lucas rolls his eyes. “Not in front of everyone. And I don’t need a front-row seat to their performances, either.” He turns his attention back to the Dungeon Master. “Look, I’m desperate. Mike’ll be visiting his grandma and Dustin’s grounded because of his D-plus in Spanish.”
Eddie narrows his eyes. “What about Huey, Dewey, and Louie over here?” he asks, gesturing to the three remaining club members.
Their collective responses are jumbled excuses; Eddie swears one of them says he’s going kayaking—in mid-December in Indiana—but he doesn’t bother to sift through their lies. “You owe me, Sinclair,” he declares, pointing his forefinger at the underclassman. “Big time.”
The next few weeks leading up to the Winter Formal are spent meticulously making plans. For someone who seemed so disinterested in this dance, Max is paying careful attention to each detail.
You walk out of the dressing room in a velvet emerald green dress that hits just above the knee. Max is beaming as she adjusts the off-the-shoulder sleeves and smooths down any creases.
“You look really nice,” she says, nodding her head. She’s trying to temper her enthusiasm, but you can sense her excitement. “I can’t wait to tell Lucas.”
You wrinkle your nose. “Lucas? Why would he care?” He’s a nice kid—more in tune with emotions than the average fourteen-year-old boy—but that doesn’t constitute an interest in your fashion choices.
Max’s cheeks burn as red as her hair. “Uh, well, seeing you happy makes me happy, and seeing me happy makes him happy, so…everyone’s happy?” she finishes lamely. She clears her throat as if expelling the awkwardness from the conversation. “Anyway, let’s buy this dress so we can look for shoes.”
“Yeah, okay.” You’re not fully convinced, but you brush it off and steel your nerves to ask a question. “Is anyone else gonna be there that we know?” You really want to know whether Eddie Munson is going to be there, but you can’t say the quiet part aloud.
“Probably,” she shrugs, a bit too quickly, but she’s pushing you back behind the curtain to change before you can inquire more.
“Why does this stupid tie need to be green?” Eddie asks, sifting through the store’s selection with Lucas by his side.
“Uh, Christmas colors,” Lucas stammers, fumbling for a decent explanation other than the contents of his secret phone call with Max earlier today. “And, y’know, red is way overdone, so…” he trails off lamely, going back to the display table and hoping Eddie drops the matter.
They find exactly what they’re looking for—not without Eddie complaining about putting in too much effort just to be a third wheel—and make their way over to the food court. Eddie makes a beeline for the Pizza Hut when he stops dead in his tracks. “Shit, Sinclair; we gotta go,” he says urgently, clapping a hand on the younger boy’s shoulder and steering him away from the fast food.
“What the hell? I’m hungry!”
Eddie shakes his head, curls brushing against his shoulders. “Look, man.” He discreetly points to his left, where you and Max are giggling at the Orange Julius. “We can’t let them see us.”
“Dude, she’s like the nicest person ever,” Lucas rebuts. “Even Max likes her, and Max pretty much hates everyone.”
“That’s not the problem.” Eddie rakes his ringed fingers through his hair, wincing when he snags one on a knot. “The problem is that she’s gonna be all, ‘hi, Eddie; what’re you doing at the mall?’ And I’m gonna be all, ‘just picking out a tie for the Winter Formal.” And then she’ll go, ‘oh, who’s your date?” And then I’ll have to say, ‘I don’t have one; I’m just playing babysitter to some freshmen like a goddamn loser!” He hops back and forth to indicate each character change.
“First of all, ouch,” Lucas quips, “second, go hide in the bathroom if you want, but I’m getting something to eat.”
Eddie exhales an exasperated sigh, giving in and schlepping over to Pizza Hut, one of the few times in his life that he’s trying to be inconspicuous.
You pull into the school parking lot on the night of the Winter Formal and shift into park before killing the engine. Max is bouncing her leg up and down in the passenger seat, lower lip tucked between her teeth.
“What’s on your mind?” you ask, mistaking her excitement for anxiety. “You know that Lucas would think you look beautiful even if you showed up in a potato sack.” You furrow your brow. “Where is he, anyway? Why didn’t he come with us?”
She mumbles something about not wanting her mom to ask any questions about the relationship, and you take them at face value. Her eyes light up when she spots her boyfriend walking into the school alongside…Eddie Munson?
“Eddie’s here?” you ask in a hushed whisper, feeling sweat prickling under your arms. You’ve been nursing a massive crush on him for ages–one that Max is very much aware of. And now he’s here, dressed in a black suit with his hair pulled back into a low bun at the nape of his neck. “Max, why didn’t you tell me? Who’s he going with?” The idea of him slow dancing with someone else has your stomach turning.
Max just shrugs. “I don’t think he had a date.” Too casual, too blasé–she knows something. “C’mon, let’s go in.” She swings the car door open enthusiastically, leaving you shell-shocked in your seat.
“Maxine Mayfield!” you hiss, using her full government name to drive home your bewilderment, but she just skips ahead. Damn your heeled shoes, slowing you down before you can catch up to her. When you finally do, she just grabs your hand and tugs you towards the guys.
She poorly feigns surprise, jaw dropping as she exclaims, “Eddie? What are you doing here? Oh, my gosh, this is such a coincidence!” She pulls you closer, smiling far too wide. “Lucas and I both brought our upperclassmen friends! What are the odds?”
“Yeah, so weird,” Lucas says, not as loud as Max but just as transparent. He looks at Max before regarding you and Eddie. “Okay, well, we’re gonna go dance–bye!” The two of them scamper off, leaving you alone with Eddie. If their stilted dialogue wasn’t evidence enough, the way Eddie’s tie perfectly matches your dress certainly clears up their intentions.
Eddie speaks first, shoving his hands in his pants pockets and nervously swiveling his body. “I, uh, think we’ve been set up,” he says with a small, awkward chuckle. “I swear, it wasn’t my idea. Not–not that it’s a bad thing, I just meant, like, if you’re uncomfortable with this, I don’t wanna be held responsible.” His cheeks burn red. “Shit, I need to stop talking.”
“It’s okay,” you reassure him with your own kind laugh, “we might as well make the most of it. Get some punch and make fools of ourselves out there?” You gesture towards the gym’s makeshift dance floor; the band has just started playing Journey’s “Faithfully.” Eddie’s nods, following you to an empty space, and you timidly drape your arms over his shoulders. Taking care to avoid an inappropriate touch, he rests his palms on the small of your back.
His voice is low when he murmurs in your ear, “you look really beautiful tonight.” He clears his throat and speaks again. “You always look really beautiful, though.”
The two of you sway to the music, swapping shy smiles and fleeting but longing glances. As the song ends, you look over your shoulder. “We’re being spied on,” you report, noting the way the two younger kids are watching you from across the room. You consider your next words before eventually deciding to go for it: “Did you talk to Lucas about me as much as I talked to Max about you?”
“Probably more,” Eddie laughs, bringing you a bit closer. “But I’m interested in comparing notes.”
You nod, staving off any lingering nerves. “Maybe after the dance, we can split a burger from Benny’s and discuss?”
Eddie presses a soft kiss to your forehead. “Yeah,” he says; you can feel his lips move against your skin, “I’d like that.”
--
#eddie munson#eddie munson fluff#eddie x reader#eddie stranger things#eddie x you#eddie munson x you#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x f!reader#eddie munson x female reader#eddie munson x y/n#eddie munson fanfic#stranger things fanfic#fanfic#eddie munson stranger things#stranger things
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Toxic
Pairing: bf!Jungkook x gf!reader
Summary: You’re fed up with your boyfriend—Jungkook— and want to break up with him.
Warnings: toxic relationship, Jungkook’s an ass, unprotected sex, making out, swearing, dirty talk (?), degradation, reader passes out, not proofread!!
Wc:
Note: it didn’t turn out the way I wanted it to. I might change the ending since i don’t like it.
——————————————————————————
People are dancing, smoking, drinking, talking and having fun…. while you’re sitting at a booth alone.
You roll your eyes at your boyfriend— Jungkook— entertaining some blond girl. He’s shamelessly flirting with her in your presence. You both came here together wanting to let off some steam as it had been a bad day for both of you. Work was really tiring and you just wanted to relax but your boyfriend suggested to go to a club to get your mind off of work. It was a shitty day for him too.
“I’ll get us a drink, yeah? I’ll be back in a minute.”
You snort, shaking your head at his words.
Now look where he is, letting some random girl— that’s not even his type, you might add— touch him. Every time he says something she laughs and either touches his biceps, thighs or shoulder.
People, friends, your parents, they all have been telling you to not get with him. He’s bad. Honestly they were right, he screams fuckboy. From his personality to his slutty body. His broad shoulders, his chest that is getting bigger every day, he might have more man boobies than you. His biceps, his toned abs and tummy down to his thick, muscular thighs.
Not to forget his tatts and piercings. He has an eyebrow piercing, two lip rings and like six earrings on each ear. He always wears jewelry. Chains, bracelets, rings…
His style is very simple. He wears oversized, comfy black clothes. He wears chunky black boots amd lastly rides a Harley.
He has taken you on dates with his motorcycle a lot of times. You’d grips his waist for dear life every time he’d speed up ( which he does intentionally, so you’d hug him tighter)
You have no doubt that he loves you, it’s just the way he acts or the things he says…..
You two have been on and off, mainly because of him and his foul mouth.
You remember him calling you a bitch in an argument a while ago. The first red flag of many.
He hurt you with his words a lot.
“You’re a good for nothing little whore!”
“Y/n! Stop being such a bitch!”
“Is that all you can do!? Crying is the only thing you can do?”
“Shut the fuck up! Your voice is so annoying!”
You know he loves you but his actions hurt you.
His love for you is toxic.
——————————
“Where are you going?”
“Why do you care? Go back to that girl. I bet she’s missing you already.”
“Baby, don’t leave. We were having so much fun!”
You halt on your steps and turn around, facing him, “No Jungkook. You were having fun.”
“You were entertaining her while I, your girlfriend, was waiting for you at that fucking booth! So tell me Jungkook, how were we having fun!? Huh?”
“Don’t be like that, y/n.” He tries grabbing your hand but you quickly pull away, “It was harmless flirting.” He states with a blank face.
Your jaw drops to the ground. You’re about to say something but decide not to.
“Don’t leave, baby! Where are you going!?” Jungkook yells after you as you walk away, “I’m done with you Jungkook! Leave me alone!” You yell at him, not stopping walking.
You pick up your pace after hearing his footsteps behind you. You start running and he eventually catches you, throwing you over his shoulder like you weigh nothing.
He makes sure to pull your dress down and rest his hand there. So nobody can even get a glance.
“What the hell!? Put me dow—“
He abruptly slammed you against a wall, you groan in pain, “shut the fuck up! Just shut up!” He lowly whispers. You’re completely still after that. You do not want to provoke him. You know how he is when he is angry.
He’s already very mad. He glares at you for a few seconds, “you’re just making it harder for yourself.” He says, his hand traveling from your waist to your throat, the other one, firmly wrapped around your waist.
“So just keep quiet,” he tilts his head, “yeah?”
His hand squeezes your throat when you don’t immediately answer, he squints his eyes at you, daring you to not answer. You nod, breathing heavily. He pokes his tongue in his inner cheek and briefly looks away and back at you, “use your fuckin’ words! Or are you unable to form a simple sentence!?” His grip tightens.
You claw at his hands, trying to pry his hand off you, “s- sto-op I c…ant breath…” he gives you another squeeze and finally takes his hand off you. He grabs your wrist and drags you with him, towards his car.
You try catching your breath again as your panting hard.
He did it again.
He chocked you again.
A few months ago, during an argument, he chocked you, for the first time. You gave him the silent treatment until he dropped down on his knees and begged you for forgiveness while crying.
Your poor heart cant see him crying, so you forgave him instead of leaving him.
But he’s not always been like this.
You love him too much to leave him.
————
You flinch when he slams the car door shut, he angrily walks over to your side and opens the door, “out.” Once you get out, he slams it shut and drags you to the door.
Oh no, no, no…
Even if you love him, it’s not good for the both of you, so you want to end it here. You should have ended the relationship a long time ago.
You grab his arm with your free hand, “stop Jungkook!”
You regret everything, as he only stands there, back facing you, not uttering a word.
What feels like an entirety comes to an end as he slowly turns around and raises his pierced brow.
“Please stop….” You meekly beg.
Jungkook just stares at you, he sighs annoyed after a few seconds, “Get. in. the. house.” He puts pressure on every word.
He leaves you standing there as he gets inside, “okay y/n, you can do this. Just tell him the truth without peeing yourself.”
“Let’s end this, forever…..”
You mumble and walk into the house.
As you step foot into the house, you notice it’s quiet, very quiet. You gulp, your heart racing with fear. What will he say? What will he do? Will he accept you wanting to break up with him?
Where will you go?
You live with him in his apartment. Only after a few months of dating he asked you to move in with him. Who were you to deny him? You were so madly in love with him, not noticing the red flags.
It’s not like you don’t have money. You work, but do not get paid as much as Jungkook does. But you do have some money stashed away. You cannot buy a house or an apartment with it, but stay at a hotel meanwhile. Or at your friends.
You could stay at your parents, but you don’t want to worry them, knowing how much they love Jungkook.
“What the hell y/n?” Jungkook breaks you out of your thoughts, “what was that stunt you pulled back there?”
Fighting with Jungkook was…… something.
It either led to angry sex, ignoring each other or breaking up.
It was mostly him who apologized after arguments. He’d give you nice flowers and take you out.
And you’d blindly forgive him. Every. Time.
You were— are— madly in love with him.
You furrow your brows in anger, “What? The fuck, Jeon? Are you even listening to yourself? I’m your girlfriend yet you were flirting with someone else in my presence!”
“Are you ever going to grow out of your fuckboy phase!? The fact that I lasted so long with you surprises me! You flirt— you entertain other woman while you have a girlfriend! Do you know how it makes me feel?”
You keep yelling at him, “It wouldn’t surprise me if you have already cheated on me!”
(Don’t worry y’all, he hasn’t.)
Jungkook licks his lips and bites them right after. It’s been several minutes and you’ve been yelling at him.
It’s turning him on. You yelling at him like that. After just a few minutes he got a boner. The way your brows furrow, you calling him every insult there is.
It makes him fucking hard.
“Will you say something now!?” You yell at him after your rant. You noticed he’s been quiet and hasn’t said a word to you.
Which is not Jungkook at all. He always talks back. Always.
“You done?” He calmly asks in his deep voice, you catch a tint of amusement in his tone.
You scoff, “Have you even been listening to me!?”
He smiles.
A smile that is clearly mocking you.
The audacity he has! Well you’re about to wipe that smile away.
“I want to break up!”
It happens so fast.
He was suddenly pinning you to the wall with his hand around your throat, he wasn’t holding you tight. His other hand was in your hair.
“And why is that?” He chuckles darkly, “saw me with some female and now you want to break up?” He starts laughing.
“Yes,” you hiss once he stops laughing, “you’re disrespectful, demanding and a freak.”
“Oh? I’m the problem now?” He comes closer, “you’re the one that’s insecure.” He has a lazy grin on his face.
He is not taking this seriously. Is this a joke to him?
“God, Jungkook! You’re not even taking this seriously! You’re so—“
He kisses you.
Jungkook kisses the life out of you. And you don’t resist, you kiss him back with the same force. Jungkook’s hand travels from your hair to your waist, squeezing it a few times during the make out. His other hand remains on your throat.
You wrap your legs around his waist and he rests his hand on your ass while still making out. Kissing sounds are the only thing hear throughout the whole house.
He takes you to the couch and lays you down, your legs still circling his waist, but now hanging loosely around ‘em.
“You think I’d cheat on you?” He mumbles while kissing up your leg, “I’d never.” He presses a chaste kisses to your clothes center.
“No, I didn’t mean that— mhm.” He yanks your panties and throws them somewhere on the floor. He dives right in between your legs and your lips part before letting out a gasp.
You grip the couch so hard your knuckles start to turn white, Jungkook takes notice of that and places your hands in his hair.
Jungkook runs his tongue up and down your slit, you pull on his hair and he lets out a grunt, “fuck you, Jungkook, seriously.” You manage to say, his tongue is just so good, “yeah? I’m about to.” He answers and gives your pussy a smack.
“Ouch,” you wince in pain.
He smirks, “you know i love you, right?”
“Yeah, I know.” You roll your eyes, “I love you too.” You mumble, not looking at him.
You hear him let out a chuckle before toring apart the rest of the clothes, you gasp and hit his shoulder, “Jungkook!”
“What? You don’t need them now.” He answers so easily with a lazy smirk on his face.
You purse your lips and look away, Jungkook starts rubbing your pussy while leaving hickeys on your collarbone and neck. Your hands pull at his hair and he groans in your neck.
Jungkook has a hair pulling kink. He likes having his hair pulled during sex.
You start bucking against his hand and he bites your neck gently, “You’re so desperate, huh?” He says, amusement evident in his tone.
You unzip his pants and slide them down along with his boxers. His length springs free, slapping against his stomach. His dick is standing proudly with cum leaking out of his head, the head is slightly red.
You bite your lip upon seeing his big, veiny shaft, Jungkook smirks in response, his ego rising. He takes his dick in his hand and starts pumping himself, his eyes closed.
Jungkook moans in pure bliss. He opens his eyes and looks at you while jerking himself off, “come here.” He breathes out.
You move closer, laying completely under him. He pokes your pussy with his dick, “put it in now!” You’re getting impatient.
Jungkook raises his pierced brow, “shut up.” He growls and pushes himself in you, in one go. You both moan in pleasure, “you’re so tight. Didn’t know I didn’t fuck you for so long.” He is strechting you out so good.
You wrap your legs around his waist again, squeezing him a few times with your legs, but he doesn’t mind. Your arms are hanging loosely around his neck.
“Feels good, baby?” He asks, thrusting into you.
“Y..yes…”
He scoffs, “so good, huh? You can barely talk.” He laughs, “am I making you feel that good?” He pulls you up by your shoulders, “tell me how good I make you feel. Go on.”
You’re blinded by all the pleasure, “so g-good!” You gasp out, “yeah? You’re making me feel good too.” He doesn’t stop pounding into you.
You moan at his words, your praise kink being fed.
“You feel so good, baby. Your pussy is wrapping itself around my cock so good.” He moans, praising you more.
He leans down, pressing more kisses to your lips.
“Kook too much!” You cry.
“Too much?” He scoffs, “that’s what you get, you wanted to leave me.” He cups your face, “you can’t leave me. You’re mine.” He pecks your lips.
“My baby.” He nuzzles his face in the crook of your neck. He keeps thrusting into you, his pace getting faster by the seconds.
His thrusts get sloppy after sometime and he cums in you.
He looks at you, “Gotta make sure you never leave me.” He mumbles while cleaning himself up. After throwing the dirty tissues in the bin he wears his pants and cleans you up.
Well…. Since you couldn’t, because you’re passed out.
Jungkook admires you for a few minutes before cleaning you up. You’re naked laying on his couch with his cum leaking out of you.
“Love you.” He mumbles pressing a kiss to your forehead.
————
Do NOT copy or translate.
Thank you for reading 💕
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Realizations
Dad!Simon Ghost Riley x Wife!Reader
Thank you guys so much for 1k, it means the whole world for me because now once did I expect to ever have my page grown this big and not once had I imagined that I would make these many friends here who happened to be so sweet. Also to @connorsui who has been most definitely been waiting the answer to this.
So in honor of 1k, I wrote this long awaited backstory for Ghost and Lovie (Ghostie's parents) that I hope you guys will enjoy since it so happens that our beloved @ave661 has posted another Dad!Ghost render. (Credits to her again for the renders in this post <3) (Sweetie, I love you but that tag on Soap with this render was unnecessary 😭🫶)
To the people who congratulated me, through replies, likes and reblogs, I owe y'all a fat kiss. Mwahhh <333
My CoD Masterlist
Taglist: @wishesforyou @puff0o0 @simp4konig @blingblong55 @azereus @rustic-guitar-notes @shadofireshinobi @09maruchan @anonymuslydumb @skeletalgoats @icarustypicalfall @ghosts-cyphera @cutenote @connorsui @capuccino192 @thesnowurzikdjinn @miss-gms-and-the-rotten-womb @celestialhole @trepaika @starryylies @demidemon09
Warnings/Disclaimers: Stalking (not by Simon), Typical mentions of CoD violence?, Mentions of Simon's past abuse, Creepy guy?? (Not Simon), Mentions of violent and a bit gory descriptions on what wanted to do to the stalker, This is not proofread yet.
With the words of my mother and in true reputation style, Are you ready for it?
I think I need to say this on my account again, English is NOT my first language and all copyrights regarding the plot and some characters within the storyline belong to me. Edit: please help me y'all, I'm losing so much relevance in the span of less than a month, my recent works have gotten nothing and I'm scared that this post proves that. I think I've learned my lesson never to take breaks ever again 😭
Simon never imagined himself in this predicament, always thinking that he'd be out there somewhere, more likely drowning himself in a mission. Not even a home, he thought that if it hadn't for your persuasiveness to interact with him back then then he'd still be back in that shitty apartment complex.
Simon placed his duffle bag on the wood of the porch, the jingling of his keys while he looked for the correct one. He tried his best to make as little noise as possible, it was passed midnight, the last thing he would want was to disturb his wife and daughter from resting.
Hauling the duffle bag in and throwing it on the couch, Simon opt to see what his girls were up to. The giggling and commotion making him smile, you both were supposed to be asleep by now but you were unable to put her to rest because she's just too hyper, so that left you to entertain her by tossing her up and catching her.
"Dada..!" A squeal from the room came, the little one snapping her head to the opening of the door making you look as well, Simon took a peek from the half-way opened door.
Adorable little thing clapping her hands together, pleased that her dad is home while sitting on her mom. She got off, crawling near the edge of the bed with no sense of danger, fortunate for her that her dad is quick with catching her before you could.
You took a deep breath from the shock, looking at your husband and smiling sweetly at him. He asked you not to get off the bed as you were about to, laying next to you he snakes his arm underneath you on your waist and pulls you in.
"I missed my girls.." He said, voice deep and laced with exhaustion, despite that his hold and gaze was the warmest it could be.
"We missed you too Si, so much." You mumbled as your eyes flutter shut to enjoy his touch. You opened them to the sound of a kiss, he kissed the little one's forehead then yours.
Sometimes you vaguely remember the first time he and you met, how it even came to be, this life of domesticity. You, him and your little girl, family is a heavy word for Simon but it was just perfect. This was the family he wanted, the family that he thought he didn't deserve and never would have.
The feeling of coming home to all this started because you were so forgetful, who knew that would be the skill that brought you to him..?
• ──── ✦ ──── •
He emptied his pockets, to the lieutenant's dismay, the box of cigarettes only had one stick left. Since he was going out to smoke it anyway, he might as well get another box from the convenience store nearby. He took his keys from the kitchen counter and headed out, hearing a little commotion that peeked his interest.
Simon never paid much mind to whatever was going on within his apartment building despite the many gossips that were present within the building and the renters. So it happens that the old lady next to his place mentions how they'll be a new tenant in the other apartment next to his.
'Thank God' Simon thought, not that he was particularly religious but he'd been hoping for the longest time for the former renter to leave because let's be honest, who wants to live next to a frat boy with no sense of shame or consideration given that walls are thin? Little did he know he'd be blessed with the next one..
"Oh- I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to.." Simon hears a voice from a little below him, he'd only register what had happened after the fact. Poor girl carrying this box bumped into him a little too hard, so much so that she stumbled back a bit.
You stared up to the 6'4 man blinking, he only shrugged it off to which you smiled to. You tried to make small talk since you were new and it wouldn't hurt to at least know one person right? After all, you were trying to step out a bit of your comfort zone.
"Hi.. I'm [Name].." He only stared at you for a while and replied, "Simon.." you gave him a warm smile before nodding and continuing to bring the boxes into your new apartment while your new neighbor entered the elevator.
You cut the boxes open to start unpacking, a few minutes in and you decided to go on a short break, you rummaged through the small box of food only to find that the recently bought box of tea was empty. You sighed at this, humming as you remembered the convenience store you passed by earlier on the way to the apartment.
Taking your keys and locking the door behind you, you made your way out the complex and walked a few blocks, you only started to notice how late it was with the streetlights coming on even though the sun is only about to set. That's something to get used to, hmm?
The cool breeze hits your skin as you enter, scent of faint instant coffee and many other kinds of foods and products made themselves known. You walked around for a while, checking on what other things you might need but then you tried to remind yourself that you were saving up and on a budget so you took a box of tea and walked up to the register.
You heard footsteps behind you falling in line, after placing the box on the counter, you searched your pockets for your wallet.
'Shit..!' you cursed yourself out mentally trying not to panic as Simon basically watches you frantically patting your pockets, you left your wallet back at the apartment. "You left your wallet-" Simon stated the obvious, "I'll cover it.." there wasn't even a time to argue with him, he just stepped next to you and placed the pack of cigarettes.
"I'll pay you back as soon as we get back to the apartment" You insisted to which Simon only shrugged and declined, it's just a box of tea and it's not like it'll make him go bankrupt, besides he liked your taste, the one you got happened to be his favorite brand.
Since you were headed in the same place anyway, you and Simon walked back together side by side, however one thing you did find odd was when he gently took you wrist and pulled you inward next to him, he was the one now closest to the road.
The walk back was silent, a comfortable silence. A few days after that encounter, you made sure to make an effort for him to know that you appreciated his gesture back at the convenience store. The lieutenant was alarmed by the knock on his door, opening it to find no person but a tupperware filled with buttery shortbread cookies.
He smiled at how tiny the plastic container looked in his hands, how he noticed the note attached "Thanks for the tea, this isn't that special but I hope you like it -[Name]" and the Sanrio themed stickers stuck onto the lid and on the top part of the tiny note. You ran out of sticky notes..
Simon found himself snacking on those cookies later on, oddly enough, they reminded him of his mom.. how she used to love baking back then, it was her way of escape whenever Simon's "father" wasn't home, as well as gardening.
For the first time in a while Simon "Ghost" Riley let out a smile that wasn't smug or a smirk but a genuine smile, one that had warmth to it, one that no matter how hard his mind tried to surppress it, his body refused to.
It didn't take long for you and Simon to get to know each other a bit, little by little it seemed like you two were becoming like friends rather than just neighbors. Let's be honest, who just randomly gives their neighbors weekly baked goods for the sole reason of "just because they wanted to"?
You found yourself always looking forward to the Friday nights chilling with him at the rooftop, mugs with hot tea on hand while he smoked and you read.
Listening to his stupid jokes and remarks that slowly turn into deep conversations and life things. Simon was just... far more open than he's ever been, sure he's talked about his day before to his comrades but never like this, not in a way where he's pouring his heart out, letting you in on how he feels about certain things.
He just got back from a mission, a rough one to be exact. Shoulders slumped from exhaustion as he walked the streets near the apartment complex, no space for his bike so he had to leave it somewhere private while he fidgeted with it's keys.
Simon swore that he almost jumped out of his own body, first instinct being to push you off but he recognized you. He gave you a questioning look, hands were shaking as you so desperately linked you arm around his.
"Hmm?" He hummed, hearing you mumbling something but it was incoherent to his ears.
"Behind us.. please Si, help..." Come to think if it, you never knew when Simon turned into Si. Best believe he knew and still remembers when perfectly.. not the time, there's a serious threat, he didn't look. He didn't need to, guessing by the heavy footsteps, some creep decided to follow you at this hour.
He slowly slipped his arm away from your grip and snaked it around your waist, pulling you in closer to his side while the two of you continued treading closer to the complex. You closed your eyes for a few seconds at a time hoping it would end.
• ──── ✦ A few days later ✦ ──── •
Knocking, frantic knocking was what Simon heard at his door. He wasn't expecting anyone, so why the sudden visit? He opened the door and saw you, Simon knew something was off from the look on your face, you looked pale as if you were sick to your stomach while trying so desperately to catch your breath.
"Can I please come in.. Simon..?" You asked in between breaths. You looked around you, especially behind you, body shivering a bit. He took notice of this and had no hesitation, he pulled you in by your arm. His grip firm but gentle, Simon closed the door behind him.
"Remember that guy who was creeping around when I asked for your help..?" You tried to explain but Simon already knew the moment your mouth opened. You had a stalker.. it was best to call the cops on shit like this.
Simon did his best even though not knowing much about how to comfort someone, he did well in making you feel safe without having to tell you that he'll do so, you just know it in your gut that he'd protect you even if it's just now.
Your breath picked up, slowly backing away from the door as you heard footsteps, clenching your fists and hoping that he didn't see you enter Simon's door. Simon wrapped his arms around you, keeping you in place and from further backing away from the door.
You felt his palm drag up and down your back, it was extremely warm, it stopped for a while. His arm wrapped around your waist, other hand in your hair pushing your head down a bit so it was buried in his chest while you gripped his shirt. Simon felt your trembling body against him slowly relax.
"Deep breaths, angel.." The nickname he whispered would've made you smile under any other circumstance but not right now, you needed to calm your nerves before you panic and make an impulsive decision that could hurt yourself. Like instructed, you followed along Simon's demonstration, pressing his forehead onto yours maybe just a bit too intimately.
You winced at the loud sound of banging on the door, you knew it too well. Simon shoved the handle of his combat knife in your hand, he told you that if anything were to happen, protect yourself with it.
As soon as the Lieutenant swung the door open, you could hear punches, things knocking over and among other things, your stalker's voice.
You'd never forget that, how pitchy it was. Nails on the chalkboard was the best way to describe it, how the man was cackling almost made you annoyed. Simon called on security and the man was dealt with, you came out from hiding and saw both fear and anger in Simon's eyes.
You would never know how much he wanted to tear that man's heart after skinning him alive for even bringing fear into your eyes.
Simon "I care too much for someone I just met" Riley finally saw how his knuckles and fingernails were caked with blood, went off to go wash it and himself.
Getting back to you after half an hour, you reached out for him only for him to withdraw, you looked at him confused and he looks at you with pure guilt..
Your eyes widened in realization, "Oh Simon.. I'm not scared.." you smiled at him. He reached out a shaky hand to you, hesitating before closing his hand back.
You took his hand in yours, bringing it up to your lips and giving it a small kiss, hoping it calms his nerves. Well it did the opposite, it even more overwhelming for him having you kiss his palm while you look up at him, watching you nudge your face into his palm so invitingly.
The way your lashes just sat perfectly atop your cheeks while you slowly blinked up at him. Pressing the same scarred and calloused hands that almost killed a man that night on your face and rubbing the back with you thumb.
Simon had never felt that much guilt before for hurting someone, only after he saw the look in your eyes, which in turn were not something he caused. For the first time in his life too, Simon was comforted by something or rather someone immensely..
#cod x reader#aethelwyne lia writes#ghost x reader#simon riley x reader#cod headcanons#simon ghost riley x reader#ghost x you#simon ghost x reader#simon ghost riley#simon riley#simon riley x you#ghost drabble#ghost x plus size reader#ghost x female reader#ghost x y/n#simon ghost riley x you#simon ghost x you#simon ghost#simon riley x plus size reader#dad!ghost#dad!simon
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Never Forgotten
Kento Nanami
originally posted on AO3! :) wrote this back in July for Nanamin's birthday :3 <3
Fem reader, established relationship, alcohol consumption, vaginal sex, cunnilingus, cream pie, slight breeding kink, very light bondage, Nanami dealing w a shitty day, its like, kinda sweet if u squint a bit, a little praise & degrading
4.6k
MDNI
Nanami looked down at you as you stirred in your sleep, cuddled securely into his side. Your arm was wrapped around his midsection and his was around your shoulder. He pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, as he reached for the remote to turn the television off.
You two had been dating for nearly ten months now. You hit it off after meeting through a mutual friend for a night out for drinks, and have been happy together since.
You two did have plans to move in together in a few months. Nanami owned a condo, and you still had some time before the lease on your apartment was up. This was the first major relationship either of you had been in, so it admittedly was a huge step, but both of you were prepared to take the plunge.
Until then you shared nights like these where you would come and sleep over. He loved having you over, seeing you move comfortably around the space as if it were your own.
Tonight was a bit different, as it was the night before his birthday. You two hadn’t spent one of his birthdays together yet, so he honestly didn’t know what to expect. Not that he was particularly a a person big on the occasion, seeing the day as just another year closer to retirement, but maybe you would make it different.
You were just that kind of thoughtful person that made everything worth celebrating. Hell, you baked him a cake when he told you he got another employee of the month award. You gasped when he shrugged lazily at the feat and sprinted to the kitchen. He told you it was really no big deal because he had so many, but all you did was narrow your eyes at him and told him he needed to be more excited he was being recognized for such diligent work.
He smiled at the memory as he pressed another kiss to your forehead.
He looked at the time on the clock. 3 minutes to midnight. He was unsure if you were supposed to spontaneously wake up out of your sleep with a song and dance, but there was nothing but silence to surround him when the clock struck midnight.
Your sleeping form was so serene, he wouldn’t dare disturb you. Instead, he repositioned your bodies by unhooking your arms from his waist and wrapping his around yours instead. You stirred again as he let out small sigh mumbling to himself, “Happy birthday to me.” He closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep.
The same way you always fell asleep before Nanami, you always woke up before him. You were already somewhere in the condo when Nanami woke up. He was hopeful this was going to be a birthday to remember.
He went into the master bathroom to brush his teeth and got dressed for work. He never took the day off, because well, the retirement fund needed to be supplemented somehow. He took a look at himself in the mirror. Maybe he should have gotten a haircut a few days before, but no matter.
He walked out into the kitchen where you were sipping tea at the island. “Hey, good morning boo. Coffee’s in your mug.” You always made his coffee in the morning, just the way he liked it, but a wave of disappointment hit him. Was that it?
“Thanks, baby,” he answered, walking toward you to press a kiss to your lips. You kissed back. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. “Sleep well?”
“With you? Always,” you gushed, your soft hand landing on the side of his face. Wasn’t there anything else you wanted to say?
“Oh, good,” he nodded, his voice tight. “Uh, I guess I should get going then.”
“Already?” you pouted. “Do you have an early meeting or something? You didn’t even sit down and drink your coffee yet.” He loved spending mornings with you, drinking your hot beverages together while you entertained him recalling your always too wild and vivid dreams, but he couldn’t act like this wasn’t bothering him.
His girlfriend forgetting his birthday. His heart clenched, but he just tried to remember why he had never made it a big deal in the first place. It was just a day, he would just have to remind himself of that.
“Yeah,” he lied, opting to pour the coffee in the mug into his tumbler. “Email came in about earlier this morning. I wasn’t expecting it either,” he chuckled, but his laugh was strained. He was lying through his teeth, couldn’t you tell?
“Ugh, okay,” you groaned. “I got called into work tomorrow, so I probably won’t be around when you get home. But I’ll cook something for you to eat for dinner.”
Great. Even better. Now he would truly be spending the day alone. He cleared his throat before he spoke again, although he didn’t know what to say. He settled on, “Okay.” He swiftly placed his laptop in the bag before heading toward the door.
“I love you!” you called out behind him.
“Yeah, I love you too,” he said, just loud enough for you to hear as he pulled the door closed behind him.
The day Nanami was having would give A Series of Unfortunate Events a run for fucking money, and he was pissed off.
Not only did his morning start off with a lack of birthday wishes from you, but it was immiedtaely followed by some asshole deciding to go NASCAR speed on the residential street, a large puddle of last night’s rain drenching his slacks.
He stood on the train while a parent’s curious toddler had the gall to ask him if he was still potty training. He knew he couldn’t glare at a child, so he held on the the pole even more tightly as he ignored the kid who decided to ask the question again and again until he and his mother eventually got off at the stop before him.
The morning meeting he lied about turned out to be a very real meeting. If Nanami actually checked his emails that morning, he would have known. So there he was in the office with drenched slacks and fifteen minutes to prepare a presentation that he didn’t give a fuck about. After being able to throw something together, his supervisor thanked him for being so flexible, but informed the team the meeting was actually for next week. “I guess I made an oopsie!” he shrugged. Nanami left the conference room without a word.
The fire alarm went off in the building a few minutes before lunch was going to start. He groaned, reaching for his lunchbox so he could at least warm it up somewhere else, only to realize he was reaching for air. He fucking forgot it at home. He groaned again, knowing not only did he have to take a fuck ton of stairs down from the twenty seventh floor, but he would have to buy lunch from some overpriced, overcrowded shop.
Once he got to the town square, it was already bustling with a bunch of people trying to get food for the lunch hour. He was already too aggravated to deal with that shit. He opted to just get a croissant from his favorite bakery instead. Taking the short walk there, he clenched his fist seeing a white note on the door and the lights off. Walking closer, the note read, Closed for inventory today, see you tomorrow! He absolutely wanted to scream.
With only fifteen minutes left in the lunch hour, he trudged back to the office where the fire alarm had stopped going off, but they advised everyone to take the stairs for safety purposes. Safety his ass, he didn’t have anymore fucks to give, but there was no choice. Hungry, and more then fed up, he trudged up the stairs and threw his head back once he got back to his desk.
His phone went off and he pulled it from his pocket, smiling seeing a text from you. He unlocked it, his face falling upon reading your message. I just left. I made you some chicken alfredo and garlic bread for dinner :) i’ll be back on Saturday! I love you!! ♡
Was that really it? His phone was littered with other birthday wishes that he would get to in time, but that message from you may have actually just made his day worse. Thanks baby, I love you too , he replied anyway. He wanted to throw his phone across the room.
The rest of the day was equally annoying; too many conversations with people that couldn’t take a hint that he didn’t want to talk, emails that were about as useful as white ink on white paper, and hunger still gnawing at his stomach from his lack of lunch.
By time time it was five, his supervisor was sauntering over to his desk. Nanami visibly scowled, but that didn’t deter him at all. “Nanami!” he greeted. He already knew where this was going. Overtime today of all days, fucking great. “I guess I made another oopsie.” His supervisor began to explain how his incompetence was now Nanami’s problem, and an hour later he was seething when he left the office.
The elevators were still deemed unsafe to use, and he trudged down the stairs yet again. He was finally out of work, but there didn’t seem anywhere for him to go. He could have hung out with some other friends, but more than anything he wanted to be with you. He sighed, deciding to get on the train and pop into the bar by the house. Nothing like some greasy food and some alcohol to wash away the day.
He sat at the bar, waiting for the bartender’s attention. “Hey man, can I just see some ID?” Nanami fished his ID out of his wallet, flashing it to the worker. “Oh, happy birthday man! I got to give you some shots on the house!”
“Woo! Birthday boy!” a visibly drunk man next to Nanami whooped, clapping him on the back.
“Thanks,” Nanami muttered as the bartender immediately poured two shots of brown liquid in front of him. He didn’t know what they were, but he didn’t care. He threw them both back in quick succession, the liquid burning his throat all the way down. He scowled at the aftertaste as he pushed the empty shot glasses back toward the bartender.
“Naw, you’ve got to give him something a little smoother,” the man next to him said. He ordered four shots of something Nanami wasn’t famailar with, pushing two his way once the bartender had them all poured, He raised one, motioning for Nanami to do the same. “Happy birthday, man!” He threw it back, and then easily the other. It indeed did go down a lot easier than the other.
Four shots in a matter of less than ten minutes was probably not very wise. He ordered some sweet chili boneless wings and garlic parmesan fries for himself, along with a beer to sip on. He knew he would feel it later for sure, but who cares. He would be alone anyway. He ate the greasy food when it came out, his head already feeling heavy by the time he was done.
He paid his tab when the bartender asked, “You got far to go?”
“No,” he slurred. “I live right up the block.”
“Oh, then one for the road won’t hurt!” He poured Nanami a final shot, some clear liquid. He threw it back instantly. This one was smoother than his choice of dark liquor before. “You’ve got some hot ass waiting for you at home?”
“I wish,” he grumbled. “But thanks.” He bid adieu to the bartender and the man that was sitting next to him as he made the short walk home.
Perhaps he was a bit more fucked up than he realized, because he was absolutely struggling to get the key in the door. He took a breath and rested his forehead against the cool door. What was the rush anyway? Then again, he didn’t wan’t to be standing outside when what he needed was a shower and his bed. He fumbled with the door again, his efforts successful this time and pushed the door open.
He furrowed his brow, seeing a large Happy Birthday banner hung from the wall facing the door in the living room. Streamers and balloons hung from the walls, and he had to rub his eyes to make sure he wasn’t hallucinating.
Then you stepped into view from the kitchen, a large grin spreading across your face. You ran up to him, throwing your arms around his neck in glee. “Sorry, I went to go put the food back into the oven, I thought you were going to be back earlier!” You pulled back slightly to press a kiss against his lips. “Happy birthday!”
He was confused. Or drunk. Or maybe a little bit of both.
He took a small step back, taking in your appearance. You had one of his favorite dresses on, a short, strapless, floral print number that flared at the end with lettuce edges. It was perfectly form fitting, your breasts bouncing at the top as you walked, your figure that he loved accentured, and your ass he adored getting a handful of on display.
“Huh,” he said dumbly.
“Your birthday?” you laughed with a soft shake of your head. “You drunk? Is that why you took so long?”
He was stunned into silence.
“Aw, come on!” you pouted. “You couldn’t have possibly thought I forgot! Maybe my acting was a little too good…” you contemplated, but he couldn’t help but just stare at you, and then back at the decorations littering the space. Even the banner meant so much to him. He knew you couldn’t have possibly put that up without asking for someone’s assistance or using a ladder, both of which you hated doing. But you did it, for him.
He suddenly felt like an idiot for even thinking you could have forgot. For the first time today, a smile genuinely crossed his face. “Thank you, baby.” He pulled you tightly against him, hands immediately grabbing at your ass. Maybe the bartender had a premoniton on his behalf or something, because here you were, hot ass and all.
You playfully swatted his hands away opting to taking his hand in yours. “Come on, don’t you want to at least have dinner?” He was admittedly already full, and eating something else was the only thing occupying his mind now, but he let you pull him toward the kitchen anyway.
He was dumbfounded. The table was set with the good china you just insisted would only be used for important occasions.
He was an important occasion. He felt his heart swell.
Another birthday banner, and more streamers and balloons decorated the space. A small cake decorated with purple icing and sprinkles with Happy Birthday, Kento! scrawled in white frosting sat on the middle of the table. You grabbed some oven mitts and bent over to open the oven. The dress was short enough to see the meat on your ass cheeks, and all he could do was walk over and stand behind you, gripping the flesh. Maybe it was the alcohol, but his cock was already straining against his slacks.
“Kento, let me get this food out,” you giggled. He stepped back to give you some space and he instantly knew what was in the oven; it was one of his favorites, oven roasted lemon garlic chicken with potatoes. You walked over and placed the dish on the table, a bright smile on your face. “Maybe I should have said something earlier, I just wanted to surprise you.”
You strided toward him, your hand caressing the side of his face. He placed his hand over yours, closing his eyes and leaning into your touch. This is what he needed after today. You were what he needed. “I would never forget a day as important as this,” you whispered. “Do you really think I could forget my favorite person’s special day?”
“I was a bit silly for thinking you did,” he admitted, a laugh escaping his lips. “I was having a fucking shit day and thought I was coming home to an empty place.” You frowned, and he hated seeing you frown, especially on his behalf. “But that has nothing to do with you, baby. This is already the best birthday ever.”
You smiled softly, although your brow was still knitted. “Well we can talk about your day while we eat.” Your eyes quickly brightened again. “Oh! And I can give you your gift!”
He wasn’t interested in talking or receiving gifts right now. He never understood the rationale of people in movies and television shows pushing food and silverware off the table to ravish their partners, but it fully made sense to him now. He was only interested in having you bent over the table and rutting into you until you were creaming around his cock and crying out his name.
“That sounds great,” he mumbled, bringing you back to him. “But I’ll be very honest. Let’s get that food back in the oven for a bit. There’s something I need to do first.”
You were lost, but nodded nonetheless. “Oh okay, we can do that! It is your day, after all.” You gathered the dish with the chicken and walked back over to the oven to keep the meal warm. At the same time, Nanami was pushing the plates further up on the table.
You strolled back over to him, and he instantly smashed his lips against yours. One hand was grabbing your ass while the other was on the small of your back. One of your legs instantly rose while your arms wrapped around his neck, making any space between the two of you nonexistent. He felt bad for his breath that must have reeked of liquor, but the feeling faded when your tongue was pushing past his lips and exploring the inside of his mouth.
He gripped the material of your dress tighter, and if he didn’t like it so much he was afraid he would have ripped it off of you with his bare hands. He moaned against your lips as your hands shifted so your manicured nails were running through his undercut. Fuck, he loved when you did that. Your tongue continued to move inside of his mouth, and he moved his against yours. You always tasted just divine, savory and sweet at the same time, and man was he so blessed to be loved by someone as amazing as you.
Your tongue slowly exited his mouth and you began to nip at his bottom lip, eliciting another moan from him. He jerked his hips against you, his erection swelling by the second as his tongue began to explore your mouth. Your mouth was always so inviting and willing for him as your lips parted for him. He closed his eyes, enjoying the pure bliss of the moment. Hard to think he was having the seemingly worst day ever just a few hours ago when he was here now, his hand full of your ass and his tongue shoved deep down your throat surrounded by so many of his favorite things.
His tongue exited, and the kiss became sloppy as your bodies stayed melded together, but he wanted more now. He quickly spun you around and bent you over the kitchen table. He slapped your ass, watching it jiggle in the material of the dress. You mewled, and arched your back more, wiggling it in the air. He slapped it again, letting his hand massage to spot before pushing up the material.
He figured you had a thong on the way your cheeks were out when you bent over when taking the food out of the oven, but no. You weren’t wearing any underwear at all. “Were you expecting something, perhaps?” he asked, letting a finger swipe through your folds. You were already wet, but he knew he could have you soaking in a matter of minutes.
“Something like that,” you answered playfully. “Thought it would come a little later, but now works too.” Oh, you would be coming later too, but Nanami needed his fix now.
“You little slut,” he chuckled, sinking down to his knees behind you. “Acted like you forgot my birthday just to cook my favorite food and wait for me in my favorite dress with no panties on,” he tsked.
“Oh, I’m so sorry,” you teased, wiggling your ass for him. “How could I ever make it up to you?”
Nanami just laughed as he brought his hand to your ass, kneading your cheeks again. “I can think of a few ways.” He spread your cheeks to look at what was his before letting his tongue swipe across your center, instantly moaning at your taste. He swiped his tongue through your folds again, letting his eyes close as your familiar taste infiltrated his tastebuds. Your moans were music to his ears as he continue to stroke your center with his tongue.
One hand reached around to circle your clit as his tongue began to push into you. You writhed against his face, and he loved it. His thumb and middle finger slowly stroked your clit as his tongue slowly and shallowly fucked you. “ Fuck, Kento, please,” you whined, arching your back more, giving him more access to your clit.
He always loved when you begged for him, despite how much he would tease you for it. His mouth left you, but his fingers were still working against your clit. “I thought you wanted to make it up to me?”
“I-I do,” you choked out. He could already feel your legs trembling, and you could be coming for him at any moment.
“Then either shut up or use your words,” he grunted, putting his mouth back on you. You moaned again, pushing back on his face while his tongue continued to lap at you. He was achingly hard now, and was pretty sure his dick could drill for diamonds in the mines.
He started to rub your clit more quickly, and you were falling apart. Your legs struggled to stay steady as your moans turned into desperate pants. “Please, need to come,” you begged.
“Oh, look who knows how to talk,” he chuckled, his voice muffled. But he would do just that. He swiped his tongue against you once more, and you cried out as your orgasm had your juices coating his face. He let out a moan of satisfaction at your release and stood quickly. You rose from your position of being bent over the table, to which he chuckled and bent you back over. “I’m not done,” he said, undoing the buckle on his belt.
He pulled the black leather through the loops on his slacks, using it to bind your hands behind your back. “That feel alright?”
“Feels great,” you answered. He could hear the amusement in your voice despite not seeing your face, and couldn’t help but shake his head.
“Naughty little bitch,” he murmured, admiring your exposed ass. “You were just dying to get fucked in this dress, huh? I guess this is a lucky day for you too.” In the blink of an eye, the button on his slacks were undone and his erection sprang free. He pushed down his boxers briefs and entered you quickly, hands positioned securely on your hips.
He groaned as your cunt hugged his cock. It simply didn’t matter how often you two fucked, and your sex life was pretty healthy. The first thrust never failed to make him want to come right on the spot. His pulled his hips back and slowly pushed inside of you, the veins of his cock dragging against your walls. You both let out moans simultenously as his hips developed a steady rhythm. He loved seeing your ass bounce against his hips; even more so now with your arms bound and seeing that all you could do was moan and take him like a good girl.
“Fuck Kento, more, more,” you cried out.
“Shit, okay, baby,” he groaned, wiping the sweat that was forming at his brow. He held onto your hips tightly as he started to slam into you roughly, shaking the table. You let out a yelp that was quickly followed by a moan, and he couldn’t help but bite his lip as he continued to pound into you like his life depended on it.
He could start to feel your pussy spasm around him, and used one hand to slap your ass. “Fuck, you look so good taking my cock like this,” he grunted, his hips still moving quickly. He was determined to give you the fucking that you wanted; the one you deserved for making sure he felt special, loved, and utterly cared for.
“Ah, Ahhh,” you cried out, helpless to do anything except for take the vicious pounding that you asked for. “W-want you to come in me,” you stuttered out against the creaking of the table.
If he weren’t so determined to keep thrusting, he would have stopped, and asked if that was what you really wanted, but fuck it. It was his fucking birthday, and he was going to stuff you like a twinkie. “I’ll fuck a baby into you tonight if that’s what you want,” he panted, continuing his onslaught.
You moaned again, and then he felt the telltale signs of your orgasm washing over you. You were obscenely wet with your juices coating his cock and running down your legs as your pussy violently clenched around him. He fucked you through your orgasm with slower thrusts until the wave of pleasure passed through you.
He undid the belt that kept you bound, and pulled his still hard cock out of you. He quickly hauled you up, spun you around, and sat you on the table. You instinctively wrapped your arms around his neck and pressed another kiss to his lips while he slid inside of you.
You whined at his entry with the sensitivity of your last two orgasms, but clenched around him. He kissed you back sloppily as he rutted his cock into you. He pulled down the dress to expose your breasts and you leaned back slightly so he could slip a nipple into his mouth. He sucked it hashly, letting his teeth bite down gently on the bud.
“Oh fuck Kento, that’s so good.” Your hand was soon coaxing his head in the other direction so he could do the same for the other. He obliged, sucking your other nipple into his mouth and giving it a small bite before letting his tongue trace the area around your areola.
His orgasm was fast approaching and he gripped your chin tightly, squeezing a thigh with the other hand. “Fuck baby,” he grunted. “I’m going to fill this pussy up real good.” You put your hand on his lower back, bringing him closer, and he was done for. He stilled and let out a pant as his seed spurted inside of you, coating your insides white.
He rested his forehead against yours, and you cupped his face with a smile, pressing a soft kiss to his nose with his cock still seated inside of you. “Happy birthday, boo.” You moved to press a kiss to his lips. “I love you.”
“I love you too, baby.” Yeah, best birthday ever.
#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen#jjk smut#jujutsu kaisen smut#jujutsu kaisen x reader#kento nanami x reader#nanami kento x reader#nanami x reader#nanami smut#nanami kento smut#nanami kento#nanami x y/n#nanami x you#ebs writes#kento x y/n#kento nanami smut#kento x you#kento x reader#nanami kento x you#nanami kento x y/n
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Together — Simon "Ghost" Riley x Reader
"In another life, I'd have the privilege of meeting you under different circumstances." His words were comforting as the cold started taking over your bodies, his gloved hand holding yours.
"In every single life, I'll be looking for you, Simon." His name was never sweeter than when it came out of your mouth. Simon was cursed, Simon lived a never-endind nightmare both as a civilian and as a soldier, but right now? Simon was the luckiest man alive, holding his loved one's hand as life began to slip away from them.
"I'll always look for you, love." His voice was weak, yet oddly calm for someone in his situation. They were separated from their group and badly wounded, yet as he began to accept this was their end, realization hit him. For once in his life, he felt deserving of something. All those thoughts about not even deserving to survive after his family was murdered seemed to be pushed to the back of his head. You didn't deserve this. Simon didn't deserve this, and there's no way in hell Ghost is going to give up. He's a fighter, for fuck's sake.
"Stray?" His gaze drifts down to her, taking in the way she's looking at him, the way she's looking at him like he's worth something, like he deserves the world, yet Simon doesn't want whatever the world has to offer.
"Hm?" Came your soft hum, throat sore from screaming into the comms after the mission failed and you were separated from Price and Gaz. It hurt, yet you didn't know what exactly it was. It was a stinging feeling all over that gave you shaky hands. It made you want to throw up, to claw on your skin until you could find what exactly was wrong, and to rip it out of your body once and for all. To be able to feel your body again, to be able to open your eyes without flinching at the harsh light, to be able to hear your own thoughts.
"I just want you to hold me." Ghost replied softly, groaning as he used all the strength he had left to help you up by the waist, making sure you could get on your feet before he leaned on the wall for support, soft groans and pained growls leaving his lips as he limped alongside you. "Don't let go."
Despite all the pain he's suffered, all his struggles and trauma, this moment feels different— it's like a release, a way to soothe the chaos his broken mind faces daily. He'd rather die fighting alongside you than fight alone. Within you, you're holding him together. You hold his heart, his pain and struggles, his mind, his soul.
"What has two legs and bleeds?" He asked out of nowhere, deep voice strained by his pain as he walked alongside you, holding you close. You were about to protest before you remember why he's doing that— he's trying to keep you awake, and he's trying to ease the tension and fear by joking around. Though this is commonly done by SAS soldiers, it's comical to see The Ghost doing it too, so you decide to entertain him.
"What?" You ask softly, a small grin on your face as you prepare for the shitty joke.
"Half a dog." He answers swiftly. Though you can't see his face due to the balaclava, you can see the slight shift on the mouth part of his mask, his eyes twinkling as they narrow slightly. He's clearly fighting off a grin, yet the dumb joke makes you laugh. You don't know if it's the blood loss making you delirious, or if the joke is actually that funny. Probably the blood loss.
"That was awful." You say, yet you're still giggling about the stupid joke. You both manage to make it out of the building, looking around at all the destruction caused by the enemy. No hostiles appeared to be near, luckily.
"Ghost, Stray, do you copy?" The comms break you both out of your daze as you stare at each other, immediately fumbling for the radio.
"Yes, sir." Ghost replies to Price, his deep voice now more professional as he requested medevac. For once in his life, Ghost felt human. Almost dying, yet more alive than ever. Maybe all his torture was finally worth it in the end, maybe for once in his life, he'd be able to have something nice. Something to call his. His hand reaches down to gently hold yours, squeezing it softly. I love you.
#simon riley#simon ghost riley#simon riley x reader#simon riley x you#ghost#cod mwii#cod mw2#ghost mw2#ghost mwii#ghost call of duty#ghost cod#ghost x reader#simon riley x y/n
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don't you forget about me (part four)
(part one)(part two)(part three)
Eddie wakes from a thankfully dreamless sleep, his head on his pillow now, which is somehow far less comfortable than Steve’s solid chest. Speaking of… Eddie looks around; Steve isn’t there at all anymore, and Eddie is alone. He’s disappointed, though not entirely surprised, that Harrington’s left him again despite his promises.
In fact, he’s honestly more surprised when less than two minutes into his wallowing in the empty room, the door is pushed open by none other than Steve Harrington carrying two trays of food, one balanced on each hand like a goddamn waiter. It’s kind of adorable, actually, Eddie thinks, and that thought surprises him a little too.
“Oh, you’re awake! Good morning.” Steve sets one of the trays on Eddie’s lap. His smile is bright, though there’s a slight, uncertain wobble to it. “Shitty hospital food and shitty hospital TV, right?”
“Right.” Eddie’s face breaks into a grin, something light unfurling in his chest. He glances at the plate of gross food on his lap then back up at Steve, and he admits, “You know, for a second there I thought you’d left again.”
Steve shakes his head as he settles into the chair beside the bed with his own tray. “I promised you I’d hang out today. I’m a man of my word.”
“Good.” Eddie smiles and grabs a remote off the bedside table, turning on the TV. “Now for our mealtime entertainment, let’s see what’s on the shitty TV today.”
The television starts blaring some old black-and-white rerun of I Love Lucy. Eddie’s immediately about to change the channel, but then he notices the way Steve’s eyes have lit up. “Hey, that’s not shitty TV!” Steve says. “I used to watch this with my mom all the time when I was a kid.”
Eddie snorts. “Of course you did.”
Steve gives him an indignant look. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Nothing.” Eddie shakes his head evasively, shoveling a forkful of rubbery scrambled eggs into his mouth so he doesn’t have to say anything else.
Steve just rolls his eyes, almost affectionately, like they’ve had conversations like this before. He chews on a flimsy piece of bacon and makes a face, nose scrunching up. “Ugh, you really weren’t kidding about the shitty food, though.”
“Nope,” Eddie laughs, “I really wasn’t. Thanks for catering it though.” He swallows down another mouthful of food, and then adds with a little less levity, “And, uh, thanks for last night, too - for calming me down. Don’t think I’ve said that yet.”
“Oh, yeah, of course.” Steve gives a small smile, shrug, slight shake of his head, a tiny pinch between his brows like he doesn't quite get why Eddie even feels the need to thank him for that. “That's what I’m here for. I just hope I didn't cross any boundaries or anything, holding onto you like that.”
Now it's Eddie's turn to give him a confused little smile and a head shake. “No, of course not. That was exactly what I needed.” He attempts to add some humor back into the conversation, jokingly quips, “Although, to be fair, I never did think that King Steve would ever be caught dead in a bed with The Freak.”
Steve had hazarded another bite of his breakfast, trying the eggs this time, only to choke on it at Eddie’s comment. He coughs, hits his fist against his chest, and hurriedly takes a sip from the water bottle on his tray.
“Jesus.” Eddie tries not to take offense, assuming Steve’s reaction to be one of disgust at the double entendre. “That bad of a thought, huh?”
Steve shakes his head and clears his throat, face flushed. “No, no, it’s not that, man. Food just went down the wrong pipe, is all.”
“Uh huh…”
“Seriously.” Steve gulps down some more water, quiet for a moment before adding, “You know I’m not King Steve anymore, right? Haven’t been for a while now, since even long before your memories end.”
“Yeah, I know. You ditched Tommy H. and Carol your junior year, and then Nancy Wheeler dumped you and Billy Hargrove stole your crown and bashed your face in your senior year, I remember,” Eddie recalls. “But for the most part you were still well-known and well-liked, still this popular, pretty, rich boy jock all the girls still drooled over, so.” He shrugs. “Always figured ‘King’ still fit.”
“Right…” Steve raises his eyebrows as Eddie lists off these events of his life, looking at him with a smirk of barely-hidden amusement. “I forgot you were obsessed with me.”
Eddie’s jaw drops in exaggerated offense. “I was not obsessed with you.”
“Were too,” Steve taunts.
“Was not.”
“Were too.”
“Was not.” Eddie chucks a piece of bacon at him.
Steve gasps indignantly as the bacon slaps him in the face and tumbles onto his lap. “You child!” But he’s laughing, retaliates by flinging a forkful of eggs back at Eddie.
The conversation devolves into a full-on food fight, shrieking and cackling as they pelt each other with flying bits of eggs and bacon. It turns out shitty hospital food serves far better as ammunition than it does as anything actually edible.
A nurse chooses the exact wrong time to decide to come in and check on Eddie, walking into the room at just the right moment to be caught in the crossfire and hit with a stray chunk of egg. Both boys freeze.
“Uh oh…” Eddie mutters under his breath. Just his luck - it’s not the young, nice nurse, Katie, who always laughs at his jokes, but Nurse Margaret, the old, mean one who he’s never once seen crack a smile. She flicks the egg bit off her shoulder, leveling them with a stern frown as she marches over.
Eddie casts a furtive glance at Steve who looks back at him, lips twitching like he’s trying not to laugh again, and Eddie feels mirth bubbling back up in his own chest too. He has to look away from Steve again before he loses it.
He sucks his lips in, clamping them together between his teeth to hold in his laughter, and he stares up at Margaret with a thin-lipped, guilty, upside down smile as she chides them both for making a mess and scolds Eddie for exerting himself and risking reopening his wounds. Steve mumbles an apology and starts cleaning up the scattered bits of food strewn about the room while Margaret double checks that Eddie hasn’t, in fact, reopened his wounds or gotten worse in any way. Once the nurse is satisfied with both the state of the room and the state of Eddie, she whisks away what’s left of their food trays and stalks out of the room with one last disapproving look over her shoulder.
Then and only then does Eddie risk eye-contact with Steve again, and the two of them immediately burst back into laughter. Steve nearly doubles over with it, leaning against the trash can where he’d just been dusting off his hands. “Oh my god,” he chuckles out. “Her face when I hit her with that egg? I was so sure she was gonna kick me out.”
“Nearly gave mean old Margaret an aneurysm, and that was just from hitting her shoulder,” Eddie snickers. “Imagine if you hit her in the eye or something.”
Steve does his best impression of Margaret’s angry scowl and reproachful huff, and Eddie cackles. He laughs so hard his sides ache and his injuries hurt, wounds aggravated by the movement of his laughter, but he doesn’t care, the pain far too distant beneath the cushion of painkillers and positive emotion he currently feels so high on.
“You’ve still got some egg in your hair,” Steve notices with another amused snort as he pushes himself away from the trash can and approaches Eddie’s bed again. He plucks the offending bit of food out of Eddie’s curls and smooths down the hair where it had been stuck. “There.”
Steve’s fingertips brush ever so lightly against Eddie’s cheek when he fixes his hair. It sends a pleasant sort of shiver down Eddie’s spine, turning his laughter to breathless giggles just for a moment. “Thanks.”
Steve flicks the egg chunk into the trash before sinking back into the bedside chair with a soft sigh and a warm smile. “God, I missed this,” he says, “just laughing with you.”
“Yeah.” Eddie returns the grin. For him, of course, this is the first time they’ve laughed together like this, but he has to admit he’s already rather fond of it. “Can’t remember the last time I’ve laughed that hard.”
Steve’s smile turns nostalgic, like he can remember the last time Eddie laughed like that, like he was there for it. “It’s a good look on you - laughter,” he says, so quietly Eddie almost feels like maybe it wasn’t meant for him to hear. And Eddie can’t help but think that laughter is a pretty good look on Steve too, all rosy cheeks and shining eyes.
“How did we become friends?” Eddie asks, before his previous thought can take any sort of root.
The nostalgia in Steve’s expression only grows. “It was the beginning of June, start of summer, probably only a few weeks after your memories stop. I was working at the Scoops Ahoy in Starcourt, that new mall that had just opened, and you wandered in,” he says, looking at Eddie with a teasing glint to his eyes, “because you were obsessed with me-”
“Was not,” Eddie protests immediately.
“Were too,” Steve laughs. “Anyways, you saw me in my stupid little sailor uniform trying and very obviously failing to chat up a girl at the counter, and you came in just to laugh at me, actually.”
“Okay, that does sound like me,” Eddie concedes with a grin. He probably walked in there just for the sailor costume alone, if he’s being honest with himself. That’s something he’d kill to see - just for a good laugh, of course. “Do you still have that uniform? It might, you know, jog my memory a little if you were to bring it in one day,” he suggests slyly.
“You and that uniform, man,” Steve scoffs and shakes his head like this is something they’ve talked about many, many times before, enough for it to become a predictable sort of annoyance, a longsuffering inside joke. “No, I don’t still have it. Threw it out first chance I had, not to mention it got totally ruined when the- uh, when the mall burned down.”
Eddie’s eyes go slightly wide. “The mall burned down? While you were there?”
“Yeah- well, sort of,” Steve falters, a shadow falling over his expression, and he shakes his head again. “It’s kind of a long story, and not the one I’m telling right now.”
“Right, yeah, shit.” Eddie waves his hand as if to erase everything he’d said before. “Forget I mentioned it.” He, more than anyone, understands not wanting to relive bad memories right now. “Continue the other story. How did we go from me making fun of you to us being besties?”
The shadow lifts as Steve returns to that memory. “Oh, yeah. I told you the show wasn’t free and that you needed to order something or leave. So you bought a milkshake, which I somehow managed to end up completely spilling all over the both of us when I tried to hand it to you. You were livid,” he chuckles, “thought I’d done it on purpose, even though I definitely hadn’t. I felt so bad I insisted on helping you clean up. You were icy about it, but you let me show you to the sink in the backroom and accepted the jacket I lent you so you wouldn’t have to walk around with ice cream stains on your shirt all day.”
“That’s quite the meet-cute,” Eddie jokes. “Are you sure you’re describing our friendship and not some rom-com chick flick you watched last week?”
“Nah, true story, honest. It wasn’t a rom-com,” Steve says, and though he smiles, there’s an odd sadness to it too. He shakes his head and continues, “Anyways, you clearly warmed up to me after that because you came back the next day to return the jacket and apologize for being a bit of a dick before, and then you gave me this whole ‘you’re actually a good dude’ speech and told me to give you a call if I ever wanted to split a joint or something. I took you up on it that same night; it had been a rough day at work and I figured why not, so I came over and we smoked and we talked and we got along like a house on fire - better than either of us expected, I think. And that was our thing, then, after that - smoking and talking. Sometimes weed, sometimes just cigarettes, and sometimes we just smoked and didn’t talk, and then sometimes we just talked and didn’t smoke; until eventually we started doing other things together too besides just talking and smoking, we were just hanging out. At that point we were friends, practically inseparable, and then we-” Steve stops himself, a shade of melancholy reentering his dim smile once more. “We only got closer from there.”
“That sounds nice…” Eddie tries to remember it, really digs deep in his mind for any sort of spark of memory or recognition in Steve’s words, but it’s empty. It all just sounds like a story to him, doesn’t settle anywhere real. It’s a good story, sure, one he’d like to experience, one he aches to connect with, but a story nonetheless, only words, only fiction. “I wish I could remember that.”
“Me too,” Steve says, and Eddie hates how sad he looks, hates even more that he’s the cause of it.
“Well, I guess we’ll just have to make new memories, then!” Eddie declares with a theatrical amount of enthusiasm as he flashes Steve a bright grin, all in the hopes of chasing that sadness back off of his face. “Won’t we, my friend?”
Success; Steve seems a little startled by Eddie’s sudden gusto, but he laughs and smiles, the real kind this time that shines in his eyes again. “Yeah, I guess we will.”
Eddie does his best to keep the conversation away from their past after that, not only in an attempt to keep the light in Steve’s expression but for his own sake too. It’s a strange thing to be reminded of the fact that he shares a history with someone and has no memory of it, to be around someone who seems to know everything about him while he feels as though they’ve only just met.
For the most part, hanging out with Steve is nice and fun and easy - there’s something so natural, familiar, about the way they talk, the way they banter, the way they sit together even in the silences. But sometimes Eddie will say something that makes a sadness flicker in Steve’s eyes again, or sometimes Steve will say something that makes Eddie wonder just what secrets this guy knows about him and his skin crawls with that old discomfited itch. They’re both quick with a joke, a redirection, whenever the other’s expression falters, though, like Steve is trying to make sure Eddie doesn’t feel uncomfortable just as much as Eddie is trying to make sure Steve doesn’t feel sad.
Other visitors come in and out of Eddie’s room that day too: Dustin stops by with a portable cassette player and some newer heavy metal albums that came out during the period Eddie no longer remembers, which brings more than one source of entertainment as it also incurs Nurse Margaret’s wrath again when they listen to it too loud. Wayne drops in with some actually edible fast food for lunch and a deck of cards, playing a few rounds of a few games. Nurse Katie checks in on him to redress his wounds and she laughs at his stories of annoying Margaret. Even Steve has to leave a couple times, says he has errands to run or needs to pick up Robin from work, but he promises to be back each time and each time he is.
Night has fallen now, and it’s just Eddie and Steve again, Steve sitting, as always, beside Eddie’s bed as they watch whatever cheesy old movie is playing on TV while Eddie fights off sleep. He fears it still; each wave of drowsiness that washes over him is met with a shiver in his heart that breathes ice into his veins and freezes him awake.
After about Eddie’s hundredth attempt to suppress a yawn, Steve turns off the TV and looks at him. “Are you tired?”
“No,” Eddie says, only for his lie to be almost immediately undermined by another traitorous yawn. “Alright, yeah, I am, but- I don’t want to sleep,” he admits. “I don’t want to dream.”
“Oh.” Steve’s gaze softens, sympathetic. For the first time unprompted, not waiting for a nightmare or for Eddie to ask like he always had before, Steve moves closer and takes Eddie’s hand. “I’ve got you, you know,” he says, the statement fierce in its sincerity. “It’ll be alright. I’ll fight off your nightmares with my bare hands if I have to.”
Steve’s hand is warm against the chill in Eddie’s blood, the heat of his skin seeping in to thaw his fear. “I don’t think a nightmare is something you can fight,” Eddie says, cracking a smile, but looking at Steve now, he can almost believe it.
There’s a new sort of spark in Steve’s eyes, protective, devoted, and it burns the way a fire in the hearth of a home burns, like something dangerous made safe just for him. Eddie suddenly doesn’t doubt, somehow, that Steve could fight off anything, even something as intangible as a nightmare, if it was threatening Eddie. With Steve here holding his hand, he somehow doesn’t doubt that not a single thing can hurt him. Not a single thing would even dare try.
And not a single thing does.
No nightmares make their way into Eddie’s mind that night, no bad memories stir in his subconscious. That night, instead, he dreams of Steve.
(part five!)
taglist (CLOSED): @romanticdestruction @daydreamsandcrashingwaves @paintsplatteredandimperfect @hallucinatedjosten @mugloversonly @estrellami-1 @alongcomesaspider @thatonebadideapanda @tell-me-a-secret-a-nice-one @dragonmama76 @wxrmland @nuggies4life @sirsnacksalot @myguiltyartpleasure @lolawonsstuff @marklee-blackmore @vinteraltus @sebastiansstanswhore @0happyeverafter0 @scarlet-malfoy @hotluncheddie @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @emsgoodthinkin @alyelf @warlordess @stevesbipanic @lil-gremlin-things @rockandrolodex @badcaseofcasey @bat-outta-hel @fandomcartographer @manda-panda-monium @littlewildflowerkitten @giopandaonice @mightbeasleep @queenie-ofthe-void @krazyperson @worldofshea @marvel-ous-m @tartarusknight @a-little-unsteddie @xenon-demon @goodolefashionedloverboi @xxsky-shockxx @mc-i-r @bookbinderbitch @aspenshade88 @slowandsteddie @thedragonsaunt @daydreaming-mood @space-invading-pigeon @irregular-child @a-lovely-craziness (taglist continued in replies. please lmk if you'd like to be removed from this list)
#aww look they're bonding#was gonna include eddie's dream at the end but it was just way too long so. that'll be the next part i guess#steddie#steddie angst#steddie fanfiction#steddie fic#steddie fanfic#eddie munson#steve harrington#stranger things#fanfic#mine#dyfamsteddiefic#<- tag to follow for this story for those who didn't make the taglist but still want to follow along <3
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Desmond, bartender in 2000s-2010s New York would absolutely binge shitty reality tv and adore eavesdropping on patrons when he can't get his drama fix. He's the RPG tavern owner who you ask if he has heard any rumors and his eyes light up because now he can info dump all the shit he hears. This follows him to the past, where now he has to actively seek out this entertainment.
He abuses his enhanced senses to sit on roofs and listen in with a hand to his mouth like, "oh my god. They were roommates." He is both the best informant and the worst because, while he is a master at getting information, the details he focuses on are useless to the Order.
"Yeah so this guy will be here at this time at this place, whatever. But! More importantly this guy has been having an affair with his wife's sister AND her brother and-"
"Please, Desmond, I am begging you just tell me the information for the mission."
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In Altair's time, Malik was originally Desmond's go to but after being chased out one to many times for "loitering and disturbing the peace of the bureau" (i.e. Malik's peace) Desmond switches to the Rafiq in Damascus since he "at least appreciates me." Eventually Malik would begrudgingly miss his presents and send a request for him to come back because Desmond is the only one he can rant at about Altair.
Altair does not know what the hell Desmond is talking about half the time, but now he does know the baker has three sons that his wife never knew of and one of the sons has shown up at the baker's home.
He normally will just let Desmond keep talking cause he likes his voice.
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In Ezio's time he is best friends with Claudia and her girls love him. He'll drop in and gossip with them about their patrons or even warn them about some of them. "Be careful I heard that he has some craziness going on between the legs." or the girls will ask questions about Ezio.
"I heard he is a beast in bed, is that true?"
"Well you didn't hear it from me, buuuut~"
He is 100% going off of hazy animus memories, but all the courtesans totally think he has either A.) slept with Ezio or B.) is actively sleeping with Ezio
With Claudia he talks about the goings on in Tiber Island and what Ezio is up to. Ezio doesn't know how the hell his sister knows everything he is doing or why he gets a message from her forbidding him from doing something he hasn't even gotten to do yet and Desmond just stands off to the side sweating.
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Connor is gonna go gray early with how often Desmond just disappears from the Homestead because he seems hellbent on not staying still as it gets "to boring there". Desmond will normally pop up in the strangest of places. Either Connor will find him, head tilted like a dog as he listens in on a group or Desmond will just hunt Connor down himself. "Heard you were in the area."
At time he loves it because Desmond always has a ready flow of information and he is very good at sowing discontent with it, making for good distractions. On the other hand he can do without the open commentary or rampant attention he gives any interaction Connor has with his father.
"It's so much more interesting when it's not me"
*Connor and Haytham both glare at him*
#assassin's creed#desmond miles#ezio auditore#altair ibn la'ahad#connor kenway#ratonhnhaké:ton#written post#Desmond loves when things get trashy#claudia gets annoyed if Ezio sends Desmond on a long mission#now who is she going to talk to?!#The older assassin's learn just to let Desmond talk#cause eventually it will circle back to the mission and he gives good info#Altair tries his damndest to find out things Desmond might not know so he can contribute to their talks#He just doesn't know what makes good gossip#Desmond talking to Connor about Haytham: “Well if you ask me-”#Connor: “I really didn't”
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Every Breath You take (1)
Summary: There is a shadow following you. He doesn’t know what he got himself into.
Pairing: Stalker!Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader, Bucky x Alpine (platonic)
Warnings: stalking, being stalked, loneliness, a man out of time, bitchy boss, secret admirer trope, voyeurism
A/N: We start slowly to get to know them and their backstory. In this part, we will get to know Y/N better.
A/N2: You all made me do it! Here’s the series to this random idea: Stalker Bucky & Crazy Reader
Catch up here: Every breath you take (Prologue)
Every Breath You Take Masterlist
You’re chewing on your lower lip, humming at something your boss said. He’s boring as hell and so demanding. With his hands on his hips, he glares at your lunch as if he wants to turn it to ashes.
All you want to do is tell him to leave you alone during lunch break. You’re just too polite and nice to do so.
He can bug you during work time, but not in the precious moments you use to catch up on the latest gossip on your phone.
You were about to read about an affair Tony Stark had with an intern. Fake news, you’re fairly sure, but it’s still entertaining reading all the furious and stupid comments.
“Sure,” you nod and make a mental note, hopefully not forgetting about his next demand before you reach your desk to write it down. “Right after my lunch break.” You point out and give him a fake smile.
“You better hurry,” he snaps at you and storms off. “If not, you can look for a new job.”
He cannot fire you per se. Your boss is not as important as he thinks he is. One word to the HR and he can kiss his ass goodbye.
You’re just indifferent when it comes to your boss and his antics. You prefer to ignore his sometimes nasty comments.
The world is cold and unfriendly enough. You don’t want to be the kind of person adding more hatred to this world.
Bucky aimlessly strolls through the streets. He prepared everything for tonight, and now he’s a little lost because you are still at work.
It became his obsession to make sure you came home safely. He’d kill the time, window shopping or imagining how’d feel to hold your hand.
Time. Bucky needs more time to prepare himself to meet you for real.
He wants your first date to be perfect. Therefore, he must watch you a little longer to get to know you better. – At least that’s how he justifies he’s following you like a shadow for the better of three weeks.
Bucky stops in front of your favorite bookstore, he looks out the window, wondering if he should buy you a book and gift it to you this week, or wait a little longer.
He shakes his head. No. Bucky will start with the usual gift. Flowers. He saw you carry flowers inside your apartment over the last weeks more than once.
You love flowers, and he will find out which ones you love the most. Bucky doesn’t want to gift you the wrong flowers and disappoint you.
He already has a plan. According to your schedule – which he knows by heart – you will go to the little café close to your home. The perfect opportunity to sneak inside your apartment and get to know you even better.
Bucky will take any chance to make you see he’s more than his bad reputation. To the people out there he’s still the Winter Soldier. He doesn’t want you to think the same about him.
All he wants is to keep you safe and happy. Bucky’s new mission is the most important one he ever had.
For today, he will wait patiently to follow you home, making sure you’re safe. There are many dangerous people out there, wanting to hurt or take advantage of a lovely person like you.
“Phew, home sweet home,” you sigh and plop down onto your sofa. You’re tired, and hungry and would kill to have someone to massage your shoulders. “What a shitty day.”
You hate to get back up, but you need a shower and search your fridge to find anything eatable. Your boss made sure you were working overtime, and you didn’t have the energy left to buy groceries.
Slowly getting back up, you sigh. You’d love to fall asleep right here on the couch, but it won’t do you any good.
Instead of sleeping, you walk out of the living room to have a shower. There’s still enough time left to watch your favorite show and eat leftovers from your fridge.
“She looks tired,” Bucky worriedly watches you with his binoculars when you walk back inside your living room. You yawn and rub your tired eyes. “She’s wearing cute pajamas, Alpine.”
Your secret admirer swoons. “Isn’t our girl beautiful?” He dips his head to look at Alpine sitting on his lap. The white cat meows and rubs his cheek into Bucky’s shirt. “She’ll be such a good mommy for you.”
Bucky pats Alpine’s head, gently murmuring the cat’s name. Alpine is his only companion, and he wants the cat to love you too.
“Don’t worry,” he whispers while lifting the binoculars to his eyes again, “she’s a wonderful and kind person. Y/N will love you too.”
Bucky inhales deeply as he presses your shirt to his nose. He’d love to take it with him, but for now, the top and panties he found under your bed must do. Bucky cannot risk taking more of your things right now.
In due time, he will take more of your things to bring them to the house he plans to buy for you and him. He’s already ahead of his plans, but Bucky never felt like this again. Not since Hydra turned him into a monster everyone still fears.
“Soon,” he hums and walks around your bedroom. Bucky takes his time, and even risks lying in your bed for a moment. He sniffs at your pillow, inhaling your scent deeply.
Bucky sighs. He can’t risk leaving his scent on your sheets and must slip out of your bed too soon for his liking.
Time. He needs more time. Bucky tells himself all over again. He cannot risk scaring you off, or that you’ll be afraid of him.
He’s a protector, not a villain.
Bucky slowly walks out of your bedroom and inside your bathroom. He wants to know more about the products you like, and maybe sniff at your perfume too.
You’re still at work, and he has all the time in the world before he will pick you up from work and bring you home. In his mind. – He cannot turn up at your workplace and offer you a ride home. Not yet.
Bucky lurks around the corner to watch you walk out of the building. You’re angrily wiping your eyes and even cussing. Something you never did before.
“Who hurt you, doll?” He asks himself, and the person delivers the answer on a silver plate.
Your boss storms after you, calling you a dumb bimbo while throwing a tantrum like a man-child.
Bucky squares his jaw. He clenches and unclenches his metal fist, ready to beat your boss into a bloody pulp.
No—not now. Not here. He will bring you home first and come back. Bucky will avenge you, and make sure your boss will never dare to raise his voice around you again.
Every Breath You Take (2)
Tags in reblog.
#bucky barnes#bucky barnes x reader#bucky x reader#bucky x you#stalker!bucky barnes#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes x female reader#x reader#Every Breath You take (1)
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─── i. camgirl dot net
⚢ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬; 𝐬𝐚𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐡𝐚 𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐱 𝐜𝐚𝐦𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫
✗ warnings; soft!dom!sam x sub!fem!reader, a lot of praise, age gap (r is legal), sexting/phone sex, possessiveness and jealousy. NOT PROOFREAD.
summary: samantha definitely doesn’t have the extra cash to spend from working two shitty end jobs, but can’t help it when the pretty doe-eyed girl loves the attention.
this was stupid and futile, it really was to samantha as she scrolls through the website of numerous cam girls on the website, flicking her wrist along the pages, close to being all parallel, typical and boring degrading usernames, naked and spread out just like the next and before, overdone moans and facial expressions, just blank faces until sam comes across one cam, her wrist still as her eyes read the username: bambi
chuckling softly at the username and wondering the meaning of twisting the innocent disney dear until sam clicks and her eyes catch doe-like ones staring at the camera, chocolate lace-clad to smooth skin, the lingerie thin and tiny, barely leaving any room for the imagination, but it was enough to wonder and desire what’s underneath the silky lace.
“fuck,” sam murmurs to herself as her attention glues to her computer screen, the pretty camgirl’s dark eyes gazes at the camera, her petite hand reaching up to lock a curl between a dainty finger and twirling.”the highest payer will get to pick what they wanna see me do to start the night off.” sam tugs her bottom lip between her teeth at the sound of your voice; so breathy and whiny, sam wonders if your voice is naturally that soft and needy or if it’s just a camgirl allure, regardless of the factor, it leaves her skin hot with desire and want.
sam watches tips fly in shortly after your statement, ten, twenty, thirty and it seems the highest payer so far is some guy with a lousy whooping seventy dollars, who quickly sends in his demand in the chat afterward, sam clenches her jaw at the user’s request, almost jealous at the fact you’ll be obeying him, and the emotion at the situation is so doltish - to get jealous about you following someone else’s command, a camgirl she only stumbled upon moments ago and who sam doesn’t know anything about, other than the bare skin that’s shown on her computer screen.
the next thing sam does is even more doltish than her silly sudden jealousy with her auto filling her credit card info into the slot and sending a 100 tip, outbidding the pathetic man who couldn’t even make his a solid 100.
“sammyc26,” sam physically has to shallow a groan when you speak her name in that tone, so breathy and soft, god this the first time she ever wanted to fuck someone so bad before, and so fast. arousal pulls at her stomach as she watches you to continue to toy with your acrylic nail in your mouth.”you’re the highest payer so far tonight, whatcha wanna see, baby?”
the butterflies of arousal now juts in her stomach harshly, feeling herself blushing, her body heating up from embarrassment at what she’s actually doing and the meek shyness of your voice now directed at her with that petname, as well as the desire of want pricking her skin. slowly sam begins typing on her computer, pushing the laptop further into her lap to try and get the best visual she can grab of you.
sammyc26: touch yourself for me
sam can feel herself flush hotter with excitement,  anticipation, and abashed for actually doing this, watching intently as you read her comment out loud followed with a sweet laugh.”alright baby, if that’s what you want.” you answer samantha softly, trailing your fingers to the sides towards the bottom piece of your lingerie, teasingly pinching the silk ribbons, rolling them around your fingers before slowly unwrapping them gently and making sure to doe your eyes up as you do so.
sam’s throat runs a little dry and her tongue swipes her bottle lip as she watches your entertaining show, her chest inhaling up and down deeper than usual, especially when the ribbons finally fall and it gives more access to the view of your bare hips and a smudge bit of your inner thighs leading to your pussy. making the mistake and flickering her eyes to the comments and feeling that earlier jealousy flame intensely now, her brain shifting to some unspoken claim on you with your show and obeying her want.
the strain in sam’s jaw looses, almost falling slack when you peel the tiny excuse of clothing that’s covering your core, spreading your legs open and tossing your bottom set somewhere in your room, your eyes setting on the camera, your head against your silk pillows and your legs edging more and more bare, sam shallowing hard at the mere sight.”is this what you wanted baby?”
grunting at your teasing question, hovering her fingers over the computer keys, answering you.
sammyc26: yes. you’re so gorgeous angel
light pink dusts your cheeks at sam’s words, you were use to being referred hot and degrading words twisted into praise, you were never called gorgeous or a sweet petname like angel, a feeling smells in your lower stomach, samantha catching glimpse of it as slick begins to drip out of you. gorgeous, you were perfect like this; needy, flushed, spread and dripping, it made sam so desperately want to plow you into the mattress and give you everything you whined or begged for.
sam watches you tease yourself with a digit of yours, slowly circling your clit, releasing a needy small moan, —a natural one sam comments to herself mentally— and it burns sam up, flaming her skin and leaving her uncomfortable in her underwear. letting out a strangled groan at you now pushing your delicate fingers between your lips, saliva dribbling down and coating your palm, releasing them with a wet pop before moving them back down gently thrusting two digits inside yourself.
embarrassingly the sight could make sam cum alone, her dark brown eyes not leaving her screen for a second as she watches you build a speed to your rhythm, no longer holding back and letting out breathless whines and moans, slick skimming your thighs, your petite fingers as deep as they possibly can be inside of you but sam can tell it’s still not enough, and she so badly wishes her long fingers were in you instead, pounding them in your pussy.
kicking her panties down her legs and quickly reliving herself with some releasing for her own pleasure, sighing out as her fingers come into contact with her folds, sam’s heed on your movements with her hand between her legs. sam bites her lip to hold in her groans when she sees your legs starting to shake, slick leaking down to your smooth bare thighs, her free hand making work to type in the chat
sammyc26: don’t cum until i say it’s ok to angel
by the needy and frustrated sound you whine out sam knows you saw her comment and decided to follow through with her demand, that alone speeds her orgasm near with the sight of your flushed face and hair sprawled out on your silk pillow, your legs spread open for her —and undoubtedly everyone else in the chat but sam is choosing to ignore that factor— and your pouty lip tugged between your teeth to hold in those pretty cries of yours.
sammyc26: let me hear you, stop holding yourself back
at sam’s comment you allow yourself to release moans you didn’t even realize you were holding back, throwing your head against your pillow with the pleasure seeping between your thighs that you can’t let snap until your client flag’s it okay to so, tears pooling in your eyes, so badly wanting to cum which in any other stream you’d would’ve by now and not listened to whoever was behind the comments, it made them want you more and label you as an disobedient brat fantasy, but for some reason you want to actually listen to this new viewer, as stupid as it makes you feel.
your thighs quivering and pink lips jerks sam’s head in a lust filed haze as the coil in her stomach snaps with white hot pleasure clouds her vision, cum smearing across her palm, cursing lowly at the intensity of her climbmax leaving her breathless and sweaty, her hooded eyes still remaining on you as you struggle to keep yourself from cumming. sam is shocked to managed not to orgasm minutes ago, god does she wanna see how you’re pictured when you do.
sammyc26: cum for me
at the long awaited green light from sam you finally come with a high pitched cry and a shake wave throughout your body, eyes screwed shut as you come undone right before sam’s eyes, so delicate with an intense violence of your orgasm, it makes sam’s stomach in such desire like never before, and she’s almost saddened you closed your gorgeous bambi-like eyes when you finished yourself, she so badly wanted to see them all doe’d up as you came.
again, this was stupid and futile, it really was to samantha when her finger hovered over the message button of your profile, it’s been a few weekends since she first stumbled upon you and made sure to be home early enough every sunday to catch your show, spending more money than she would like to admit, money she knows needs to go to other place, and money she had to remake by taking up extra shifts, but it was all worth it in the end.
but since finding out you offer private shows at end of your last sunday broadcast, she desires much more now, she desire you way too much more now.
her obsession with random camgirl is unhealthy, sam knows.
after a few minutes your profile photo pops up in her messages, confirming you are hosting some private shows and fortunately for her, someone cancelled and there’s a slot open, in reality you were booked and actually had to cancel on someone to fit samantha in, a loyal client which was stupid of you since sam only pays you pennies in comparison of what that old pervert gives you more than what you make in a week of being a camgirl. but you were curious for your own good to see what sammyc26 looks like, and ultimately you were crushing too hard, you had no idea if sammyc26 was a man or woman yet, but you just knew they had to be attractive.
a lazily grin makes it’s way on sam’s lips, pushing down the ache of her pocket at the price you charged, but to get you alone with her eyes privy only to everything she wants you to do, it’s more than worth it.
once realizing the skye video chat is in less than ten minutes sam hurries to touch herself up, throwing on a sweater over her shirt and brushing her hair, debating on applying some makeup but quickly gets discorded when she hears her computer ringing, signaling it’s been ten minutes and you’re syke calling her.
sam hops on her bed with a rushed jump, taking a moment before answering, immediately being met with your gorgeous big eyes and mentally thinking how much the user bambi fits you. y
your pink lips curls into a sweet smile.”i’m glad to finally put a face to your name, sammy.”
 swallowing thickly before replying.”hey angel.”
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I’LL PICK YOU UP ON THE WAY HOME
Summary, Jealous ex-boyfriend, Harry picks you up from a party after a last choice call was made from you.
Warnings, Jealous Harry?
This is so many words and not much dialogue. Enjoy the first of many!!
…
Harry was an ex you hadn’t spoken to in almost two years.
He was someone you had loved very much at the time, he was just a little bit too protective over you at the time, which is not what you had wanted as a 21 year old girl who’s friends loved a party.
You had never ridded his contact of your phone, it felt strange since he had been the first number to go in it after you had gotten it with him. Plus, he had never done anything wrong and you felt slightly bad for ending things the way you did.
You hadn’t been together that long at the time, you had told yourself hundreds of times, trying to rid the guilt you had whenever one of your girlfriends would tell you how miserable he was.
It was terrible that one of your girlfriends was dating his best friend, and you were a main source of topic for their entertainment.
You had thought about calling him as soon as your date had pulled up to the house, you could hear the music booming atleast 4 streets away and the place looked crammed with 17 year olds, a weird place for a 25 year old to take you on a first date.
He had led you inside the house, letting you follow his heels, greeting almost everyone that was in his path.
Your first red flag was a girl coming up to your date, who was unfortunately named Chad, you’d heard it all from your girlfriends already, and him hugging her with his hands a bit too close to somewhere they shouldn’t be.
This had made you pull your phone out, scroll down to the very bottom of your contacts and send a quick message to someone who may not even answer you, you’d been so lucky he hadn’t blocked you already and you were so grateful.
You sent a quick “hey” and hoped the recipient didn’t hate you as much as you hated yourself for texting him.
…
About an hour later, the party felt a bit dull compared to when you had arrived, everyone feeling lulled on the couch from everything they had drank, smoked and consumed in many other ways.
Including your date.
You had never been happier to feel your phone ringing in your back pocket and feel the excitement yet dread when your screen read “Harry Styles”
“Hello” you said sounding a little ashamed, making your way to sit on the front porch away from the booming music and the yelling of party goers who were still feeling their high.
“Hey” he replied sounding a little too groggy for you liking, like he’d woken and immediately called you “Why’d you text me? Thought you wanted nothing to do with me”
You felt your heart pang a little at this, but you could feel the hurt in his voice also “I’m at a party with a bunch of high schoolers. I need an escape”
“Gonna need more than that to get me going Y/N” he’d never sounded so irritated to you, but you also understood. The first time you’d texted him in almost two years was for an excuse to leave a party.
“Please come get me, i’ve basically been ditched and none of the girls know i’m here” You sighed feeling so ashamed you were doing this”
Harry ended the call. You waited, hoping he was still the sweet boy you had met 5 years ago.
…
10 minutes later, Harry’s car pulled up outside of the house. You jumped to your feet, jogged over to the car and placed yourself in his passenger seat
“Thank you so much Harry” you looked at him, your eyes pleading for his to meet yours.
He hummed in acknowledgment.
You sat in silence for 5 minutes while Harry drove in the direction opposite of your apartment, He came to a stop when he came to a quieter road with houses all using dimmed lights. He turned the car off and placed his hands in his lap.
“What are we-”
“Why have you done this to me Y/N? You know i’m still so utterly in love with you. So you text me at 11pm a shitty message saying ‘hey’”
“In my defence you’re the one who called me, you could’ve ignored my message and blocked me, you can’t blame me for your lack of self control”
You heard harry chuckle quietly to himself, that’s when you realised you’d said something that maybe you shouldn’t have.
“What are you even doing at a party full of children, you’re 23 Y/N” Harry finally looked at your face, your red cheeks prominent and wasted makeup.
His heart broke knowing after he dropped you home, you were gone again and there was nothing he could do about it.
“I was supposed to be on a first date, but instead he drove us to a high schoolers party. Basically touched up a girl right infront of my face, then got pissed and probably even high while letting me fend for myself when these are people he knows”
Harry slightly laughs to himself, but tires to cover it up by slapping his hand over his mouth. “You sure know how to pick ‘em”
“Picked you. You’re alright” You remarked back and Harry’s head quickly snapped back up to you and slightly glared at you “Sorry, that was really mean”
“I really fucking hate when you go on dates, y’know. Makes me so cross knowing ‘yer going out with all these shit guys when i’m right infront of you”
It’s like he was on his needs begging, pleading for you to love him. Tearing his heart out of his chest ready to give to you.
“You’ve always been such a jealous prick” You smirked at him and he couldn’t help his lips curling up into a smile.
“Hard not to be, look at you. You’re insane and i had my chance and fucked it with you, Cause i was scared to lose something i wanted forever”
You sighed and reached over to place your hand on top of his, he flinched away slightly. You curled your fingers around his hand and held it tightly.
“I love you” You admitted shamefully “It never went anywhere and i think i may just be slightly ashamed that i ended something so good just for what? To get drunk and dance around at a party full of strangers. When i had you waiting for me with open arms no matter the time i came back”
Harry shifted in his seat and moved towards the centre console of his car, you kicked your shoes off and sat cross legged on his passenger seat. Turning towards him, being able to see his face fully.
“You infuriate me, you know that don’t you” He says moving closer, close enough you could feel his breath of your face.
Swearing you can heart his heart beating out of his chest.
“Can you please” You thought for a second, were you making the right decision? Telling him you wanted him all over again, when you feared you may be slightly high from all the fumes in that house party.
Harry hummed gently “What would you like, Angel? Anything for you. I swear” His eyes flicked down towards your lips but quickly returned to your eyes.
“Kiss me” you practically begged him.
His lips crashed onto yours, his hands finding your jaw and cupping your cheeks while you sat in, what felt like an isolated area.
Kissing a man that you thought was just madly possessive over you, instead he just wanted the world for you, and you were the world to him.
#harry styles one shots#harry syles one shots#harry styles#harry styles imagine#harry styles social media#harry styles x reader#harry styles x y/n#harry styles x you
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What Is ORV?
The number one question I get asked on this blog, now answered better than ever. Today I am going to formally introduce you to Omniscient Reader's Viewpoint
To start off this recommendation: ORV might very well be my favorite thing I've read. Ever. If I could only reread one thing for the rest of my life it'd be this webnovel.
My elevator pitch is this: something with the cosmic-scale goofy video game nonsense and intricate setting comparable to Homestuck in its prime, paired with the deft emotional poignancy and emotionally-driven fights of Mob Psycho 100, topped off with the sort of compassionate and heartwrenching metanarrative of Undertale.
ORV is a love letter to it's own readers. ORV revels in the joy of losing yourself in fiction, even when it's the kind of fiction that tends to be considered lowbrow or worthless. It's something that dances the delicate line between recognizing the difficult nature of using media as escapism without condemning it. I've rarely seen anything else that accomplishes everything it sets out to do in its narrative with such remarkable precision. Frankly if you're reading a tumblr media recommendation post in 2023, I can almost guarantee ORV has the kind of meat you're looking for in a narrative, whatever that may be.
The story follow the antics of protagonist Kim Dokja, a 28 year old office worker on an expiring contract, whose only real joy in life is reading his favorite massively long and massively boring webnovel. One day, the novel’s events - worldwide deathmatches aired for the entertainment of mysterious higher beings called ‘constellations’ - begin playing out in reality in a sort of reverse-isekai. Kim Dokja, the only longterm reader of this webnovel, finds himself uniquely poised to succeed based on the advantages given to him by his knowledge of future events, but the webnovel’s actual protagonist, Yoo Jonghyuk, is a violent monster who will stop at absolutely nothing to complete his goals, no matter the cost to anyone else. Kim Dokja finds himself in a delicate dance of guiding the events of the story to play out more favorably than the version he read while trying to avoid being massacred in the fallout, all while trying to see it through to the story’s end.
Below the cut I'll go into a more in-depth (but non-spoilery) explanation of what exactly makes ORV so unique and worthwhile, and what you're in for if you choose to read it.
Clocking in at 550 chapters, and over 1.3 million words in English, ORV may seem incredibly daunting to dip your toes into, but I assure you it's worth every moment. I would read 1.3 million more words if they had them for me. Here are some things about ORV I consider to be selling points, not necessarily in any particular order:
The tone. Its funny, for starters. It is extremely funny, which is very high up on my media priority list. In ORV, there will be incredibly grim things that make you laugh, and incredibly cringe and silly anime bullshit that will hurt you as heavily as any other media you’ve seen. I always love this kind of tonal whiplash when it's well executed, and ORV probably executes it better than anything else I've seen to date.
It’s got fun and fascinating worldbuilding mechanics. the core concept being ‘reality now operates on the rules of a shitty novel’ means that the worldbuilding doesn’t have to function logically, it functions thematically. It’s explicitly stated in ORV canon that some of the internal rules governing this new reality are objectively really stupid and illogical, but they just have to roll with it because that’s what was in the book, and i think it’s a really enjoyable way to do it. This may at first sound like a copout to excuse bad worldbuilding, but I promise it isn’t. The worldbuilding is actually incredibly deeply thought out, but it doesn’t exist for the sake of rational function, it exists for the sake of furthering orv’s thematic arcs. The rules by which this universe operate do a magnificent job of strengthening the core concepts the authors are exploring.
It plays with the trappings of isekai/litrpg in a really thoughtful way. These are genres I'm not super familiar with, so I can't comment on this point too heavily, but with my limited knowledge ORV feels a lot less of a deconstruction of it's genre and more of a celebration/interrogation of it. Despite that, it's still accessible to readers such as myself who are not super familiar with these genre conventions.
It deals with morality in a really wonderful and nuanced way. there are almost no characters in ORV’s extremely large cast who are just explicitly morally condemnable, and almost every conflict allows you to understand exactly why the antagonists believe they’re in the right by opposing the actions of our protagonists. The central conflicts are never pure right and pure wrong; they’re always about contrasting goals, conflicting worldviews, and different priorities between ends and means. this makes the conflicts all feel so much more dynamic and engaging than those where the only stakes are physical harm.
The characters interpersonal relationships are some of the most interesting I've ever seen. ORV is very slow burn and it takes a long time for a lot of these to come out of the woodwork, by design, but by god once they do they fucking hit. Similar to the plot conflicts, the interpersonal conflicts also almost never occur where there’s one side clearly in the wrong. The characters are almost all genuinely attempting to do their best by each other, and the tension comes from the ways in which human communication is fundamentally imperfect and part of our feelings and intentions get lost in translation. it’s very heartwrenching and heartwarming to see unfold, in equal measure.
Following from that, it’s a narrative that really meaningfully prioritizes non-romantic relationships over romantic ones as the central focus. Orv is about love, but not about romance. Obviously there’s shipbait and the ot3 is real and good and my friend but if you’re looking for deep complex platonic, (found or otherwise) familial, and antagonistic relationships that never get ruined with forced romantic arcs, we got em baby!
The pacing is unlike anything i’ve ever seen before. from a purely technical standpoint, it is genuinely a fascinating case study in how to execute a narrative that is almost constantly escalating without exception. there is very little downtime or breathing room in orv, which is insane for something that clocks in at over a million words, and somehow, it still works. i’ve never felt more like a frog in a pot of slowly boiling water than i did when i was reading orv and i can’t believe they pulled it off. it’s so interesting to read something like that.
It is a tragedy without resorting to cynicism and a very adult narrative that’s really steeped in childlike wonder. I’m a big fan of cartoons made for children. Cartoons made for children are some of my favorite things to watch, but of course children’s media will always be simplified and not very relatable to an adult audience. ORV is very much a serious and heavy adult narrative, and a deeply tragic one at that, but it never delves into torture porn. It’s a very compassionate piece of media overall, that holds a lot of reverence and sympathy for the ‘naive’ optimism of children that gets stripped down over time. if you, like me, feel more like a grown up child than an adult some days, I think it’ll hit for you.
It is extremely cathartic and meaningful. I am not exaggerating at all when I say that reading it gave me the closest thing I have ever felt to any sort of spiritual breakthrough. It helped unfuck my head a ton during some very grim times and i think the perspective it offers on the value of human life and our relationship to storytelling is a really really good one.
And if my word isn't enough, here's some reviews from satisfied customers. With that, I'll leave the rest to you, and hope you one day reach the end of the story.
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Michael Kaiser, Alexis Ness — Dog Walking
PAIRING: Michael Kaiser/Reader/Alexis Ness
WORD COUNT: 3.2k
TYPE: Humor, Bad flirting (it's so bad I don't know if i can call it flirting in good faith), Bad matchmaking (there was an attempt), Rivalry
WARNING(S): Canon-typical football derangement, canon-typical behavior
EDIT: This got a continuation, yay. And an add-on
Kaiser got it in his head that he has taken a liking to you. This is great and all, not like Ness is gritting his teeth and clenching his fists and getting angry or anything, but- okay, he is.
An obvious reason for his displeasure would be jealousy, but that’s not quite it. Ness thinks it would be entitled and insolent of him to feel any type of way about Kaiser’s personal affairs, so he hasn’t even entertained the notion. The problem is entirely different.
Just like everyone else in Blue Lock, you’re… Kaiser-opposed? Is that the right way to word it? Anyway, the point is, your shitty personality is making his job really hard. Which leads the three of you to this current situation.
“Ow! Ness, what the hell is your problem?!” you shriek, after having tripped and fell. The only reason your face isn’t attached to the floor fight now is because you softened the blow with your elbow.
“I didn’t mean it- I’m so sorry!”
“You didn’t mean it? You literally did it on purpose.”
This isn’t how it should’ve played out, though.
You were supposed to fall right into Kaiser’s arms, but you landed about a step away from him. They even practiced this routine with the others! Granted, no one agreed to it and was rather subjected to it whenever in Ness and Kaiser’s general vicinity, and, no, it didn’t work all the time, but they were just getting the hang of it. (Thankfully, no one sustained any serious injuries, apart from bearing some mental scars after hearing Kaiser say ‘Don’t go falling for me now’ in a wannabe suave tone.)
“Yeah, Ness, what the fuck is wrong with you?” Kaiser adds, before moving to crouch down and help you with a smidge of concern in his expression.
Ness’s eyes widen at the betrayal. Kaiser is such a fake bitch sometimes. Not like he’s going to do anything about it, or even that he minds, but seriously? No shame or decorum is on display here.
You don’t buy it, slapping his hands away. “I bet you put him up to it,” you say, before standing up all by yourself. Then you twist your leg around back and forth for a bit, as if to check how well it’s working, before you eventually lift it high up in the air. “Listen, you tie-dyed toerags.”
Ness flinches because what kind of way to address someone is this? Kaiser crosses his arms, shiteating grin receding into a little frown.
“I’m at my most divine when scoring a goal. You see this?” Your foot is now hovering near their faces while you stretch. This… What is it? A flex? A display? Whatever it is that you’re doing right now, Ness finds it unnerving. “It’s what I use to score. If you did something to take that ability away from me, you’d get pretty bad karma, you know? Angels would cry. Believe me.”
Ness tugs on Kaiser’s sleeve — to remind him he’s supposed to respond instead of just stare at you with a blank, creepy look on his face — and, as filler, says, “You’re very, um, flexible.”
“Yeah,” you say, moving into an even more convoluted position. “I have many attractive qualities. Deserving of being a superstar ace, you know? Dump Kaiser. Pass to me. You’re way too good to play second fiddle, Ness. With me, you won’t be stuck in a Tweedlecum and Tweedlepee dynamic.”
“What?! You- you- you, you, you, yooooou-?! What are you talking about?! I’d never betray him! I’m not joining your circus, clown! Unbelievable! Learn your place already. You never learn,” Ness says in a jumble. For some reason, he’s more offended than Kaiser is.
Here’s the thing about you — you’re insane. A has-an-interesting-psychological-file type of crazy. A hollow-inner-world type of crazy.
A Ness-loves-it type of crazy, as objectionable as he is acting to your offer.
“Calm down. No need to get your panties in a twist over some shitty trash talk,” says Kaiser, placing his hand on Ness’s head, forcing him to lower himself in a slight bow in front of you. Finally, you quit your bizarre movements and assume a more proper stance, while Kaiser leans in closer to you, shifting his gaze in your direction. This leaves Ness to watch you two engage in a round of charged glaring… again. Which is always compromising, but then Kaiser has to run his fingers through his hair, too. “You’re just like a chihuahua that hasn’t warmed up to its owner yet. Your barking doesn’t faze me.”
Your eye twitches at the analogy, face scrunching in an ugly way. “The hell did you just say to me? If I catch you somewhere Ego can’t see me, I’ll give you the beating of a lifetime.”
Instead of responding in a normal way, Kaiser points his finger in your face, almost poking you, twirls it around in a circle, which makes you furrow your brows even harder if possible as you scrutinize him like he’s a lower life form.
“See? Doesn’t bite. Totally harmless,” Kaiser says with a lilt of amusement. Then he swings an arm around Ness’s shoulders and turns him around before pulling him along so they can get away from you.
His tone is convincing enough to give off the impression of winning this verbal spat. However, Ness can’t help but notice that they’re speed walking.
___
When Ness turns around, you’re leaning on the bench with your foot, elbow resting on your knee. He lets out an undignified scream, taking a step back, startled, and even drops his water bottle. “Don’t sneak up on me like that! How come you didn’t make a noise? What are you?”
Kaiser regards the commotion with not even a sliver of curiosity and instead grins after nodding at you in greeting. “Look who came crawling back searching for my company, Ness.”
“I was thinking about that stuff you told me yesterday,” you say.
“Really? And what thrilling conclusion did you come to?” he asks, with sarcastic emphasis on the word ‘thrilling.’
“I’m going to spend my points from goals on taking a day off. Come along with me and we’re gonna fight, preferably in front of a big audience that can watch me humiliate you. By the way, it's a duel, so you can’t decline.”
“Wow, you’re asking me out on a date? Since when are you so adorable? I guess I just can’t reject you when you’re being vulnerable.”
“No one likes delusional men, Kaiser. I’d rather embalm myself and then desecrate my own corpse.”
Kaiser appears to find this amusing or in some way adjacent to flirting because his smile becomes a touch more irritating, but also a bit incredulous. “Crazy fucking bastard. You’ve got unique ways of pretending you’re not into me, though. It’s entertaining.”
“Your mouth is like a dirty urinal. You swear like a preteen who just found out what sixty-nine means, worry about that.”
Kaiser stares at you in shock, jaw hanging slightly open. In your head, you consider this a huge win, since it’s the first time you’ve visibly put him off.
“Keep gaping at me, I might just take a piss.”
“H-How dare you?!” Ness lunges at you, and the only thing to stop him from strangling you on live television — sensational, you like it — is the fact that Kaiser is holding him back by the collar. You find the sight of him swiping his fists in the air vaguely adorable. “How can you say these things? Just in general, let alone to Kaiser?”
You observe him in mild surprise for a second and the sincerity in your expression makes it all the more infuriating when you ask, “Oh, you’re still here?”
___
For once in his life, Ness is being very assertive. At least that’s what you think while he drags you over to their side of the cafeteria, fingers curling tight enough around your wrist to probably disturb your blood circulation.
Kaiser pulls out a chair for you when you come into view, then Ness shoves you so you’re sitting, and Kaiser pushes it back in, causing you to almost double over the table. Ness slides over some kind of fancy meal you can’t even identify in front of you. Kaiser leans down, his hair brushing against you, and then he reaches around your shoulder to aggressively stab one of the slices with a fork. With a perhaps demented smile, he declares, “We’re going to talk about strategy today,” before taking the seat next to yours.
“We’re not going to talk about strategy because I’m not one of your groupies,” you say, picking up on the conversation with ease.
Ness plops down on your other side, apparently having decided he has enough authority to lecture you. “No, no, no! This isn’t working. Isagi does whatever he wants, Kunigami does whatever he wants, you do whatever you want. It’s pure chaos on the field! No synergy! It doesn’t make any sense!”
“Join us. If you’re not following,” Kaiser adds, his arm finally receding away from you, “this is a compliment. You’re the one best suited for me, which is a big honor.”
“I have a way better idea. How about I continue doing whatever I want, and by the end of this Neo Egotist League ordeal, you two and everyone else you mentioned sing my name in a choir?”
“Ungrateful,” Ness mutters, petulant.
Kaiser grins, mocking, but also intrigued. “Are you still hanging onto the high of that goal against Barcha? Your ego is unhinged and, honestly, you’re not doing yourself any favors. Your type is always the most fun to break.”
Like he’s any different?
The score you landed, though — the one Kaiser is referencing — was what sparked his interest. You jumped in and stole the pass Isagi meant for Kunigami, securing the point right under their noses. Then, you faced Kaiser and took him by the chin like he’d done to Isagi on arrival, and even imitated his introduction, “On your knees, Bastard München,” with inconceivable amounts of smugness.
It was… interesting. Outlandish. A first. Ness berated you and Isagi together, but you kind of walked away in the middle of it without a care.
Here’s the other detail which is keeping Ness’s sanity intact (not like he’s renowned for his mental stability, but): Kaiser taking a liking to you isn’t necessarily a good thing, even if he’s treating you differently than the other competitors. It doesn’t say anything positive about your character, isn’t in any way sentimental — it’s more as if someone held up a mirror in front of him and he began obsessing over his reflection.
“I’m big and you’re small. That’s why you can’t tame me,” you say.
“He’s taller than you!” Ness defends.
“Did the voices in your head tell you that?” Kaiser asks you, and he does not acknowledge Ness’s meager attempt to upkeep his honor.
“I mean it. You think you can brute force everything and bend it to your version of reality. That’s fragile. I don’t mind falling from a high place. It kind of appeals to me, actually, you know, crawling back up, but more beautiful.”
The corners of his lips turn up in a manner you interpret as more baleful than usual. “I don’t know if you’re big or if I’m small or whatever you wanna call it, but what I know for sure is that you’re a melodramatic jerk off.”
“Anyway,” you stand up, taking the plate as you do so, “you don’t think often, so I won’t blame you for calling my internal monologue a hallucination. You can’t help it. Bye.”
___
The locker room is an environment you find ripe for picking fights in. Especially when everyone is tired after a practice match. At least the place is free of anyone besides your usual targets.
“Ness,” you say upon approaching them — they’re always together, it almost seems codependent — and then take a hold of his hand, all beguiling. Kaiser scoffs, apparently not interested in getting into it with you this once, while Ness stares at you doe-eyed. “I think it’s about time you get some dignity.”
“What kind of opening line is that?!” he asks, expression shifting from bashful to irritated.
“He’s just been even more awful to you lately and you’re still attached to his asshole like you’re a part of the human centipede.”
“You made fun of me for swearing, but look at the shit you’re saying right now.”
“I do it sparingly and with style. Please stop trying to compete where you don’t compare.” After a dismissive glance towards Kaiser, you turn your attention back to Ness, letting go of his hand to wrap an arm around his waist. “Anyway, the point is, he’s not acting very appreciative of your talent. I could treat you so much better if you passed to me. We don’t even need to entirely exclude him or anything, I’m a tolerant person.”
“I can see and appreciate Ness’s talent just fine. He’ll stay by my side no matter what.” Ness blushes because that’s kind of an intense statement to make out of nowhere? Kaiser’s fingers curl around his jawline before he pushes Ness’s head into his shoulder. “And I’m going to add you to the roster while I’m at it.”
What the fuck is even going on? Maybe the delusions of grandeur you and Kaiser seem to suffer from are becoming contagious, but it sounds like you two are fighting… over HIM? A more well-adjusted person would probably find this objectifying or otherwise demeaning, but Ness, mostly because of who he is — terminally unwanted — wonders if he’s in heaven right now.
Then again, Ness isn’t an idiot. His ignorance is willful. There’s a cap to the nonsense even he is willing to tolerate. So he lets this feeling of I’ve-never-been-happier linger for a little, your bickering fading into background noise, before he squirms away from both of you.
“I’m tired of how you guys are acting,” he calls over his shoulder.
Kaiser is gawking again. You let out an amused whistle, as if you find this development pleasing, before forcing Kaiser’s jaw closed.
“Don’t talk to me… for the rest of the day,” Ness continues, before leaving. His resolve ends on a weak note, but oh well.
“What the hell? Did Ness just reject me?” Kaiser asks, slapping off your pesky hand. “First you don’t want me, now even Ness doesn’t want me. I’m sick of this wretched place. Everything is all out of whack here.”
You burst out laughing. “Are your sensitive little feelings unable to handle a few hours without him?”
“Shut up,” says Kaiser. There isn’t enough bite in it.
“I can tell whatever tantrum you’re about to have is gonna give me secondhand embarrassment, so I’m gonna go as well.”
You’re not prepared for Kaiser to slam you into the locker and cage you in with his arms. Some vein you don’t know the name of looks very pronounced on his forehead, and you don’t think it’s supposed to be doing that?
You roll your eyes. “Take the hint, your machismo shtick isn’t doing it for me.”
“I’m not trying to make a move on you, shithead. I’m sick of your outrageous attitude as well. What the fuck is wrong with you? You’re always leaving in the middle of conversations, even ones you initiated. Do you know how rude that is? No one ever taught you some fucking manners? What’s your home life like?”
Ignoring whatever he’s even talking about — it’s going in one ear and out of the other as usual — you trail your hands over his shoulders.
“Stop trying to distract me. I’m listing out all of your personality defects.” He’s not really putting up a fight, though, doesn’t even shrug you off when you move onto caressing his neck. “We’re arguing,” Kaiser says, before leaning in to complete the kiss you were trying to pull him into, and finally his hands drop to rest on your waist.
The contact doesn’t last long, since you take the chance to side step him and swap your positions, before you push him into the locker like he’d done to you.
“Little bitch,” you say with a sneer, and then you dash towards the exit, offering a flippant wave. “I leave whenever I want to.”
What the hell!
___
“You’re unforgivable!” says Ness. What did you even do to deserve this attitude right before breakfast? “Stop messing with Kaiser’s head!”
Oh yeah, you did do that. You almost forgot.
“Good morning to you, too. Sleep well?”
Ness crosses his arms and taps his foot. He’s not very good at being intimidating, at least in a visual sense, you think. He has a total babyface. “You’re going to apologize. You’re gonna grovel for Kaiser’s forgiveness.”
“Sure, I take hurt feelings very seriously. Answer these questions for me, so I can apologize better later. Which ear were the words of hurtfulness spoken into? Is the damage he suffered permanent? Did he require a tissue for his tears?”
“I- I- I- I?!?! You piss me off so much. I don’t have the patience for this.” Ness pinches the bridge of his nose as if he needs to soothe himself after exchanging a couple of sentences with you.
“If he doesn’t have a mommy to hug him,” you continue without much of an inflection, “we can look for a surrogate.”
With uncharacteristic vice, he squeezes your shoulders, and he’s gritting his teeth, and you think he really might kill you. Maybe not right now, but at some point, this man is going to take your life. “What’s your problem? You’re a nobody, so why are you so high maintenance? Kaiser is rich, handsome, successful, and a football genius. What more could you possibly want in a boyfriend?”
“Wow,” you say, astonishment at something indeterminate apparent on your face.
Ness waits for you to elaborate, but you don’t, instead opting to scrutinize him in silence. “What? Don’t just say wow and then leave it at that. How can someone be so difficult?”
Your expression shifts into something meaner, then, a mocking raise of your eyebrows, a lop-sided but meaningless smile. “It’s just kind of amazing. You can’t help but ride Kaiser’s dick even while trying to guide it inside of me.”
“Wh-huh… What?!” Ness screeches, scandalized. “How… How crude? You're a vulgar moron! Totally indecent! That’s what you are!”
“I mean, can you blame me for being jealous of that kind of attention? You can do crazy tricks on it.”
“Why are you saying those kinds of things to me?! S-Something’s not right with you.”
You reach out and squish Ness’s cheeks together, leaving his lips to pucker, and you can feel his skin burning. “You’re an amusing guy, Ness. I haven’t decided if I find you pathetic or endearing yet, but I like it.” Then you let go of him as casually as you grabbed him, intending to continue on your merry way.
There are footsteps hurrying after you. “Admit your love to Kaiser already.”
Love? A frightening laugh rattles you. Your body jerks upright and you feel like an evil spirit was just exorcised out of you with how unexpected your reaction was, even to you.
“I know you can’t resist his charms. No one can.”
Kaiser’s… charms? You knew it, he’s trying to kill you.
“And- and- and!!! You’re going to play on our side against Ubers, and you’re going to like it.”
You’re borderline in hysterics now, stomach hurting.
“Stop walking away from me! Are you even listening? You should really listen when people talk to you!”
___
Im still loopy so presented without comment. Feel free to tell me wat you thikn the worst line from this abomination is
#michael kaiser x reader#alexis ness x reader#kaiser x reader#ness x reader#blue lock x you#blue lock x reader
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Being His Sibling- Riddle Rosehearts
Idk the idea came to me. Yuu is GN— 6k words
Tws/Cws: Yuu is said to have medium length hair, Riddles mom is expectedly shitty and abusive, Yuu has shady behavior because of shitty abusive mom. Yuu is untrustworthy of Riddles friends for the first half. Hurt/comfort, angst with a good ending. No incest! Just Platonic!
Before NRC:
You were the older sibling of the Rosehearts family. Being the oldest, one of the very first things you have learned since becoming sentient is that a mothers love is no different from a mothers hatred. From the minute you could babble, your mother did everything she could do to control you. You weren’t allowed outside to play, you weren't allowed any snacks no matter how much your stomach rumbled. You weren't allowed to wear fun or silly stuff. And you were never allowed to fail or talk back.
Soon, your mother— the term rotted in your mouth— soon became pregnant again, and your precious little brother Riddle came to be. You remember your father holding you up to see the small bundle of joy in your mothers arms, excited that you may have a playmate. The excitement however, became resentment.
From the minute he was born, you were no longer a priority, usually being ignored in favor of the new addition to the family. Your chatter is ignored, your physical needs pushed aside, and your emotions bottled. Even when you went to talk to your baby brother and interact with him, mother would immediately begin to lecture you for seeing him without her permission, and you were locked away in your room to study. Yet whenever you peeked out, you saw your mother cooing and coddling Riddle, something you never really remember experiencing, but she would never play with the child.
Whenever you heard your mothers footsteps fade into the distance, you would come out to play, giving Riddle all the things you wish you were given. And one day, you heard his first words— your name. “Yu!” The baby gurgled, making you jump. “What did you say?” “Yuuu!” A wobbly smile grew on your face as you hugged the baby, in that moment promising yourself that you would always protect him
As you got older so did your brother, and mother did what she always does, control. But this time it was different. Mother would always praise Riddle for his studies, but never you. She was always lighter on his scolding, when she would scream at you. Though you were also locked away to study, she never really cared about your progress the same way she did Riddle’s. From there started a grudge that you would hold onto. What’s the point of doing anything mom wants when Riddle’s her precious little angel? If you don't matter at all what would it matter if you acted up?
Mother didn’t entertain your rebellious streak for long, the screaming match that came from you simply saying you wanted to go outside instead of reading left a mark on you. “I don’t get you, Yuu! I did everything for you! I cleaned you, I bathed you, I gave you life! I cook and clean for you! Why cant you be more like Riddle!” She screamed. “I'm sorry mama… I'm sorry!” Your child self babbled shakily while sobbing. “I just wanna play outside with the other kids!”
Father stepped in to try and stand up for you, but he got yelled at too. And you remember watching as your potential savior gave up on you, allowing mother to lock you away in your room again. And yet, you could still hear as she walked off, muttering insults under her breath, wondering why she ever had you.
Riddle soon became the age you were when you started ‘acting out’ and since then you’ve learned to be more sneaky. When mom went away you would sneak out to visit him in his room, playfully messing with him and getting him to take a break to play. “Won’t mom get mad?” Riddle asked, looking up at you with big stormy gray eyes. “As long as you don't tell her— that being said,” You dropped to your knees. You knew that even if she found out, you would be the one blamed for it, “Only I can visit you okay? Don’t come into my room..” “Why?” You chuckled, trying to find a believable excuse. “Cause my room is super boring! Seriously you won't like it.” “Oh.. okay!” Riddle beamed, allowing you to distract him from the theory books he’s forced to read, and telling him fairy tales instead to watch his eyes grow big with wonder.
Mom thought that you were no longer a problem. You never spoke up or out, you did as she said with your head bowed down, you always ate what she gave to you no matter how tasteless it was, and you excelled at your studies. Finally, she was relieved that you stopped resisting, not knowing how you actually were,
For months, you snuck out and played with Riddle in his room, even giving him the answers to some of the assignments mother forced him to do. At parties you were forced to attend, you went behind your mothers back to steal some sweets to sneak to Riddle, knowing how much he always wanted to try them. And when he was still hungry from the small portions of food he was given, you would give him yours, ignoring your own stomach just to see your brother beam.
One day however, Riddle came to your room. “What are you doing here? Only I can go into your room remember?” “Well, um, I know but…” Riddle pulled at your hand to guide you to his room. “There's people at my window!” “Really huh?” “Mmhmm!” Going into his room, you saw two figures peeking through. Both young boys, one a feline beast man with bright pink hair and a stunning smile, and the other a green haired boy with glasses closer to your age.
“They said they want me to play with them but I said I had to ask you first. Can I play with them? Please please please, Yuu?” Riddle pouted, and a pang of jealousy hit you for a moment before you let out a breath. You should be happy for your brother, even if you wish to join them, but you must stay behind and keep watch.
“Of course, Riddle.” You said. “Just come back in on my cue, okay? We can't let mom find out.” You smiled at him, helping him climb out of the window and outside, where you melancholically watched the trio play. It was okay though, your brother is happy just like you promised.
All good things came to an end, however. You were too late on your cue, and Mother found out. You have never heard Riddle cry as hard as he did that day in your entire life, his terrified wails leaving a scar on your heart. However you knew what came next was going to be worse. She was going to scream at you too. You heard Riddle apologize over and over and over and over— It was driving you insane.
Suddenly, you entered the room. You were going to get screamed at anyways, so what did it matter? “Yuu get out of here, dont think your off the hook either! I can’t believe you went behind my back like that! I thought your matured! Aren’t you supposed to be a role model for your little brother?!” “Aren't you supposed to be a mom?”
“Excuse me?!” The wretched woman demanded.
“You treat me and Riddle like shit!” The woman’s face contorted with shock at the language that she never taught you— unaware of the secret books you hid that she didn't approve of. “All you do is scream at us and lock us up! Whenever we ask for anything and do anything you don't like, you just scream at us!” You sobbed, “Why did you even have kids if you don't want to raise them!”
“Do not speak to you mother like that—“
“You’re not my mom! You are the worst mom ever! I hate you! Ever since Riddle was born you always ignored me! And you don't even take care of him either! This is why you and dad fight all the time! You’re never happy with anything. Even when I do everything you ask you're never impressed! All you do is scream! I hate you! I hate you so much!”
Your kid self sobbed, and mother seemed to forget about Riddle, harshly grabbing your arms and dragging off. As she did, you saw your father behind her, merely standing by, doing nothing to save you. You weren't allowed out of your room for days, you weren’t even allowed around Riddle without supervision either.
That's when you really became unruly. If mother locked the windows and doors of the house you would pick them and sneak out. When she conducts room checks, you memorize all the places she looks so you can keep your forbidden goods hidden. Mother hated you, and she made it known. Everything she said was a snide remark at you. How at 18 you will be kicked out. How awful of a kid you are. How fat you're getting since you're sneaking food. How your magic will never be as good as Riddles since you're slacking off.
One day, however, it all boils over. You don’t remember how old you were— 15? 16? Maybe 17? But what you do remember is mom starting up a classic screaming match, talking about how ungrateful and wicked you are. Comparing you to Riddle and saying how she hopes you haven’t corrupted him with your evilness.
“Don't you dare bring Riddle into this! This is between us. This argument is between us! How dare you accuse me of hating my brother, when you have done nothing but make his life hell, when all you have ever done is turn us against each other! When you placed my entire worth on a few pathetic books” You screamed back at her as the verbal abuse continued. Riddle soon came down from his room, as you looked at him.
He’s gotten taller now, and face slightly longer. He walks with perfect posture. Usually, you felt comfort in your brother, but you noted his unimpressed expression. “Riddle, please, don't get involved. This is between me and mom.”
“Why do you hate her so much?”
“What?”
“She’s right.”
Mother seemed to smirk as you turned to look at him
“You’re joking.” You sneer.
Riddle glares. “It's not her fault that you don't care for the rules. If you only followed them, you wouldn’t be in trouble all the time.”
“That's the issue, her rules always change for me so she has a reason to keep getting mad at me.”
“Maybe if you kept studying you wouldn’t be so stupid as to not understand the value of rules! She’s right! You have done nothing but cause trouble for as long as I can remember! If you would just listen—“
You shook with anger, “Don't you dare talk to me about listening, Riddle! I gave everything for you! Don't you dare pretend the happiest days of your miserable life weren't because of me! I did everything I could to try and look after you and you just—“
You were silenced by a loud slap across your face. It stung. You froze, holding the area as it bruised, bleeding in the areas where the nails made contact with your skin. “How dare you talk to your brother like that! Stop being so jealous over—“ You didn't register what she said, your ears ringing as eyes welling with tears as all you could was look at Riddle who seemed to stare at you with disdain.
This wasn't the Riddle you knew. The Riddle you grew up with. The Riddle that babbled your name as a baby. How long have you been protecting a stranger? Acting up so he can have the slightest bit of freedom that you longed for.
You narrowed your eyes before clenching your fists. "Shut up!" You snapped at your mother. "I'm sick of you! You want me gone? Fine! I'm out!" "Yuu Rosehearts! You go through that door I'm calling the police!" "Go ahead! Tell them what a shitty mom you are! And you!" You glare at Riddle before closing your eyes. "Just stay out of my life."
You walked out, snagging a fair amount of money that you saved over the years to book it out of the Queendom of Roses, finding your own place to crash at as you work a few jobs to keep yourself afloat, up until you are invited to NRC.
At NRC, before Riddle:
You were sorted into Heartslabyul, the dorm of law and order much to your surprise. You were expecting Scarbia or Savanaclaw given their dorms ‘survival of the fittest’ themes. Still, you would take what you could get.
As you stood in line for your dorm, you noticed a familiar green-haired man in the same group. Trey made eye contact with you, obviously surprised to see you, and gave you a nervous smile. You glared at him before looking away. You wanted nothing to do with the man that's responsible for feeding into Riddle’s issues. You both avoided each other, only interacting with necessary and never dragging anything out with each other.
Surprisingly, you thrived in Heartslabyul, able to heal your inner child with all the mundane tasks you had to do, even guiding others and helping them with theirs. You did well in school, usually getting the top score on every test. You had to get good grades for a good job, especially since your parents cut you off financially. You can’t afford to slack off, and yet, you helped to tutor others. Not to mention your magical knowledge and use was already ahead of most others.
At some point within the year, the dormleader approached you, much to your surprise. He noticed all you heard work and wanted to hand off the title to you. After all, next year he would be a senior and would have to go off campus. He would need someone to look after the dorm when that happens and after all he’s done, he needs a break.
Being a dorm leader would look great on transcripts on top of all the other benefits it had. You accepted, and the crown was passed down to you. You were honestly the best dormleader at the school given the fact you knew how to lead, were kind, and got all your shit and trauma together. You were relaxed, but still implemented rules, including all of the Queen of Hearts rules to honor her dorm. Of course, you weren't too strict.
“You need to have lemonade with two sugars,” You mentioned to your dormmate. “Eh- sorry dorm leader I’ll—“ “Don't panic, just stand up and drink it.” “Huh?” You smiled. “If you truly look at the rules and all the addendums, you’ll find a lot of loopholes. The rules says you have to sit down and have two sugars in lemonade. It didn't say what you couldn’t drink while standing.”
You smirked, your mothers rules and years of having to deal with shady jobs made it easy for you to find exploits in any sort of fine print handed your ways, and you were sure to try and teach your underlings the same. Even if they didn’t use exploits and didn’t care much for the crazy rules, you didn’t mind. You weren’t a tyrant. The entire dorm looked forward to each Unbirthday and Birthday party you planned, each one stretching traditions to their limit to offer something unique.
Your knowledge of contracts and high test scores even attracted the attention of other dorms, especially a certain octopus. When you caught some of your students in shady contracts, you would review it with them and point out everything they could take advantage of. This led to you being confronted by the Octavinelle housewarden pretty quickly, though annoyed he was quite impressed.
“Now there Yuu, I do hope you can not interfere with business.” “I don't plan to. If any of my dorm members decide to sign their life away, that's their fault. I can point out a few chips in the contract, but it’s not my job to save them.” Azul seemed impressed. “My, my, it’s quite rare to find someone so reasonable!” Azul smiled with his honeyed voice. “I do wonder how you did not end up in our dorm.”
***
On top of your housewarden duties, you also ended up finding a wonderful job working for Mostro Lounge, not at Mostro Lounge. Your quick thinking and keen eye helped to calculate Azul’s profits faster than he ever could— you had experience from your times of being homeless and couch surfing. On top of that, you would always point out where he could make a contract more water tight, or places where he could reword it so can exploit his victim for even more. It gave you work experience and a good wage that you and Azul both fought over in your business contract together.
Ironic how Azul ended up with another rowdy and rule breaking member under him, as you also stretched the contract you made to its limit. Azul for once didn’t mind too much, since you were fair as long as he was. Plus you keep those twins out of his way too.
After all of these years of working your ass off, you finally, finally made it. You had a stable home for the next few years. Food security! A job! Spare money for little things! Amazing grades! You made it! You would be fine! Despite everything you have gone through, you are going to be okay. You looked in the mirror of your room admiring the hair you dyed to cover up the ruby red locks of hair that tied you to your past. You were free.
It was one night in your dorm, where you were approached by Trey. Even though it has been a year, it was still awkward between you two, and you both didn’t talk to each other. You looked at Trey with the best neutral expression you could muster. “Can I help you?”
“Riddle is coming.” “Pardon?” “Riddle has been accepted into Night Raven, he’s coming next year.” You shut your eyes pensively. “I see.” “Y’know… maybe you both can… Make up…?” You shot a glare at Trey. I’m not taking advice from someone as two-faced as you— an asskisser, you wanted to say. “I’d rather not.” You simply said, making your way to your room. “Goodbye Trey, do not stick your nose where it doesn’t belong.” You warned, entering your room just to lay back on bed and stare at the ceiling with a newfound dread.
The next year with Riddle:
You stood as the housewarden representative of your dorm, watching as freshmen emerge from their coffins to get sorted. Then you saw him, Riddle. The red haired freshmen walked down the carpet to get sorted when he made eye contact with you, eyes widening for a brief moment before narrowing into a glare, not recognizing you at first with your dyed hair. He stood in front of the mirror, and though you knew it was unlikely, you still hoped that somehow, he would not end up sorted into your dorm.
“Heartslabyul.” The mirror spoke, and like that, everything started to crumble.
Guiding the freshmen to the dorms you stopped them in front of the dorm entrance. It was the dormleaders responsibility to assign everyone a card. “You will be a fine spade,” You said to one before allowing them in. “And you a diamond.” You waved the next person past you. “And you…” You paused when Riddle stood in front of you, before clearing your throat. “A heart would be most suited.”
The welcoming party went fine. You kept it traditional and laid back to not intimidate any of the new members, allowing everyone to socialize. As you engaged in the festivities and croquet, you noticed Riddle and Trey socializing, your brother looking sternly at Trey, before glancing over at you. You had a suspicion that even after all of these years, Riddle still needed to be superior to everyone. Your position as leader would not last long.
***
You had finalized the papers and packed your things. You were moving in the dorm you should have been a part of from the start: Savanaclaw. Azul cried crocodile tears that you didn’t join him, but you know that though you would have loved to be friends with your boss, he was a ticking time bomb of greed. Being under his control at all times was dangerous. Leona on the other hand, ultimately didn’t care about who joined so long as they could sort out their own shit. He was a safer, more minor and reasonable timebomb.
After packing, you went into the rose garden, noticing you were being followed in the distance. When you got to the center of it, where your favorite place in the whole school was, you turned around. It was Riddle and Trey. Tsk, what a surprise.
“I know you were ignoring me.” “Was I, dear brother? My apologies, it was never my intention.” Riddle would have nearly turned red if it wasn't for Trey putting a hand on his shoulder. How pathetic. He was just like his mother.
“I am here to tell you that I intend to duel you for the position of dorm leader.” “Okay, here.” You take off the crown on your head and offer it out to him, watching as your little brother stares at it a mix of baffled and offended. “Is this a joke? Or are you really that lazy and weak-willed?” Riddle demanded, “I refuse to just accept the crown, you need to put in the effort as a leader should!”
“I don't see why, I’m transferring dorms.” Trey raised his brows, “To where?” “Octavinelle,” you lied, not wanting to risk them harassing you in your new dorm. “Anyways, here you go, Housewarden Riddle. I’m sure you and Trey here would be wonderful leaders.”
“I refuse! Put in some effort for once in your life, Yuu!” Riddle scolded you in that damn tone mother always used on you.
You just laughed. “You do not deserve my effort, firstly. Secondly, are you being intentionally dense or have you forgotten what I said to you— I want you to stay out of my life. I do not want contact with any of you anymore. I'm done! I'm sorry it ended this way. I hope you get everything you ever wanted and I hope I hear nothing about it, truly, I do.”
You throw the crown onto the ground as you take a deep breath. “Don’t visit my new dorm. Do not look for me at all. I am tired of you always making me feel bad about myself and having to be superior to me. The years I spent away from all of you, were the happiest I ever had.” You glared, tears in your eyes as you look for any trace of what remained of the brother you once knew, only to be met with disgust, he huffs then speaks.
“Why would I ever visit or look for you? We are not family anymore if I recall, and we were never family to begin with. It’s ridiculous of you to even think I would want to be related to someone like you in the slightest.” Riddle stated. “You weren't my sibling. You never were, and never will be.” His glare made you chuckle cynically.
“Is that so? Well then, I’m glad that's the case…” You take a few steps closer to him, towering over Riddle height wise. It's impressive how much someone could grow when they weren't stressed all the time and had some proper food. You lowered your voice. “I cannot believe I wasted my entire life protecting you. The amount of abuse I have taken in your stead, all for nothing. You, you're just like her.” You sneer, pushing past Riddle before pausing. “I used to have a brother once you know? He had the kindest smile and the wildest imagination. Whenever we played pretend together we would imagine that we could both take over the world as brothers in arms. I wonder what happened to him.
You take another step forward as Trey looks away from you. “And you.” You sound absolutely feral by now. “I would have expected you of all people to not accept roles that you don’t want to be in,” You leaned in closer. “You damned two-faced son of a bitch. You allowed this to happen to him.” You didn't even look back at Trey as you made your way out of the maze, back to your room to change clothes, pack your bags and go.
***
Since the first week that Riddle took charge, you have heard nothing but horror stories. He was as tyrannical as you imagined him to be. Whatever, it wasn't your problem anymore, the others will get fed up and deal with him eventually, and maybe then he will finally learn. Besides, Trey seems to have no issues anyways.
Life in Savanaclaw was bliss, you fit in a bit too perfectly, not afraid to rough up others if it came to it. You shared a room with your closest friend, Ruggie. It surprised the both of you with how close you came, actually. Coming from a poor background, you both shared tips for saving money and DIY, along with helping each other do some sleazy things to get by.
You both helped each other get jobs, and you even helped Ruggie pay for stuff with no strings attached since you were more well off. You lended each other's stuff all the time. You even help him grab discounted stuff in bulk for him to take back to his village. You helped to tutor each other in subjects you both struggled with and would even allow him to copy your homework. You both understood each other. Finally, someone gets you!
You rarely see Riddle. The only time you ever do is during test postings. You go up to check your score, and as usual, it is in the top spot. Satisfied, you shrug and turn around, and go to walk off, when you see your brother in the crowd. Riddle's eyes look at the top spot in a mix of disbelief and jealousy, absolutely miffed on how he wasn't on top. You looked up to see where the Riddle's test was, just to see it directly below yours, only one extra credit point behind. You don't think much of it. You leave.
Every test, you would go and glance at the wall, just to make sure your grades were fine, and everytime you notice how Riddle looks absolutely frustrated. You honestly aren't doing it to try and get back at him at all, in fact you wouldn't care if Riddle beat you, as long as you were on the wall you were above average. Eventually, Riddle does beat you on one test— Algebraic Magic Notation, something you never really cared for.
You saw yourself in second place, noticing in the corner of your eye how Riddle seems to stare at you for your reaction, before you just shrug as you walk off, feeling a glare in the back of your head as you do so. You had lunch with Ruggie today.
Overblot:
You have heard about that new magicless student around. Enma Yuuken, his name was. Apparently he caused a lot of commotion at the entrance ceremony and is a dorm leader and stuff now, cool, good for him. You never expected him and his Heartslabyul friends to seek you out however.
You were exiting Mostro Lounge after some accounting and contract checking Azul had you do for his next big plan. As you walked through the dorm on your way out, you noticed a certain quad behind you. “… Can I help you?” You turned around and asked, looking at the students. There was a spade and heart with a collar from your brother around his neck, along with a tall, broad student behind them, monster on his shoulder.
“Hey are you Yuu? Chenya said we could find you here.” The spade asked respectfully. “Chenya huh…” You crossed your arms. “What do you need?” You asked curtly, staring at your newly dyed hair in the windows of the lounge. “Is it true Riddle’s your brother?” The heart asked desperately and sighed. “Not anymore. He’s dead to me. Is that all you need?” You narrowed your eyes.
“O-oh! Uh…” Deuce stuttered. “That doesn’t matter, can you tell us why the hell he's like this?” “Can I go back to my dorm?” “Is this not your dorm…?” Yuuken asks. You just blink at them. “Everyone we asked about said your from Octavinelle.” Grim muttered, you gripped your Savanaclaw ribbon in your fist to hide it.
"Firstly, I am a liar and you should never live in a place that your employer has control of, it will always result in a power imbalance, and believe me you do not want someone like Azul to have leverage over you. Secondly I don't share where I live because of people like you trying to ask me about Riddle."
You stare over at them watching as they all stare at each other with a tinge of guilt. You huff, "Fine, if you have questions, follow me. It's not safe to answer them here. There are eyes everywhere."
***
You look around outside of the dorm as you lead the group down the hall before stopping. “Okay what do you need to know?” “So your brother,” the heart starts. “How the fuck did he end up the way he is?” At that you let out a short laugh. “Oh, is that what this is about?” “Yeah sort of!” The heart sputters. “Look, we're trying to get him to stop being… like that… and we need to learn about him first!”
“I’m afraid you’ve been led on a wild goose chase. I haven’t had contact with him in years.” “Eh?!” The group booms. “Yeah, sorry about that, he told me I was never his sibling and that I never would be. If you really want to know why he’s like that, you should ask Trey.” “Trey?” Grim asks.
You nod. “They grew up together too, and he was around him for much longer since I left. Good luck overthrowing my brother though, if you need anything else let me know, though we haven’t talked to each other in a while, I can read him like a book.”
***
You didn't expect the quad to show up again the next day, this time at lunch where you sat. “What is it now?” You ask curiously as the heart— Ace, you learned, sits across from you pouting with his collar still on. “We’re challenging Riddle to the seat of housewarden!” “Oh?” Yuuken looks at you seriously and nods. “We need you to tell us everything about him."
You chuckle sadly. “Even if I did, you all stand no match. We were both forced to study magic before we could even walk, and you both have barely learned how to change colors of objects using magic. I’m sorry, but you cannot win.” Grim whines and Deuce sighs, “What, you saying we're weak?” “I am saying you are inexperienced. Do any of you even know how to cast a warding spell?”
The card soldiers went silent. “You know…” Yuuken starts. “Didn’t you fight Riddle since you were the housewarden before him? What did he do?” “I didn't. I gave it to him and left the dorm.” “You what?! You willingly handed over the dorm to him?!” Ace gawked. “I’m sorry, but it is not my job to save him from himself. Even if I won, he would just keep bothering me over and over. I ran away to get away from the person who defended the person that hit me, forgive me for not wanting to put up with him again.”
At that the table quieted. “So uh… what's your magic like… or your unique one at least…” Deuce asks. “Wouldn’t you like to know? All you know is that it tends to break the rules of everything around me when used— Ironically, with it, Riddle's spells wouldn’t even work with how by the book all his are.” “Breaks the rules..?” Deuce echoes. “Can’t tell you anything else, sorry.”
“Wait! What if we brought you with us as backup?” “It would be an invalid duel, I’m not from the dorm anymore.’ “What if you support us in the shadows or something.” “That's cheating!” Yuuken scolds. “Exactly.”
The cards sigh and you frown. “Look, I cannot help you with that from here, however, on the day of the duel I will accompany you. I'll hide in the crowd and step in if he takes it too far, since he tends to.”
He took it way too far as you stood before your brother, filled to the brim with blot. You sigh as you stand behind the freshmen you came to support, no longer hiding. “Come on Riddle. It doesn’t have to be like this.” “SILENCE! I am… I AM RIGHT! I AM STRONGER! You know NOTHING! You ran away! What would you know?!” “We aren't getting to them. Freshmen, get out of here, this is between us.”
“Nuh uh! I’m kicking his ass too!” Ace says. “Right!” Deuce replies. Yuuken pulls out his kendo stick, ready to fight despite being magicless. “Fine then, just follow my lead.”
***
You watched as the blot left your brother in front of you. The tyrant, no longer fighting. Then, and only then, did you collapse from your injuries. Even when you gave those freshies direct orders they put themselves in harm's way, meaning you had to tank the hit for them. “Yuu!” Deuce called out. “I'm fine! I'm just… tired…” You felt blood drip down your face as you laid down.
Upon snapping out of the blot, you heard sobbing, the same sad sobs that happened on that fateful day. “I'm sorry!” Riddle shouts, reminding you of how mother would making him apologize over and over. Your head pounds, and the next thing you feel is someone sitting next to you, putting a hand near your face to check your breath before resting it on your cheek, and you recognize it.
They were larger than they were before, but the softness was unmistakably Riddle’s. His hand held you face the same he did when you were both kids and you would lift him up in the air, pretending that he was flying. You smile and open your eyes, and are met with his face looking over you.
He was sobbing, face flushed and hair unkempt for the first time in his life, and yet the look in his eyes was unmistakably the Riddle you once knew. You smile up on him and reach up to cup his face as well. “I think… I finally found my little brother I used to play with after all these years…” You chuckle before sucking in a breath at the pain, making Riddle panic and pull you onto his lap. “Yuu!”
Riddle holds you close to him, pulling you in a hug. “I’m sorry! You were right! You were right… I treated you badly… Will you ever forgive me….?” He sobbed into your neck and you reached up to hug him. “I wasn't mad at you, Riddle. I never was. I was scared… Scared I lost you to her.”
You were critically injured, in unbearable pain, and yet here you were still protecting and comforting your little brother like you always swore you would. “I love you Riddle, always did you know that right?” Riddle choked back a sob and nodded. “Good, I’m glad you know.” “Don’t leave me… Please dont leave me alone again! Not after I just got you back…” “Hey… don't worry about me okay? I'll be fine, I’ve experienced worse. I'll bounce back in no time, and we can have tea parties again, Just like when we were kids,” you choke, and Crowley comes in just in time to pick you up as you struggle to breathe, making Riddle get up and crowd you.
“They’re going to be alright, right?” Riddle sobs. “Riddle,” you mumble. “Takes a lot more than that to kill me.” You beam confidently, despite the various injuries on your body. “Right now your dorm needs you. Show them what a great leader you can be, kay? I always thought you played a better queen than I did…” You slur. “I know that Heartslabyul will shine better with than it did with me.”
“Come on Yuu, let's get you to a doctor.” Crowley says, flying off with you in his arms. Riddle watched as he shook, and a smile grew on his face.
Resolution:
You lay on one of the beds in the nurse's office. Pixies come to cater to your needs every once and a while as you rest to the sound of the heart monitor beeping. You turn your head to the side to look in a mirror and your hair is an unruly mess that matches you, this time however, it is the same ruby red that matches your brother after you used a coloring spell on it. And for once, you do not hate your resemblance to him.
A knock is heard from the door, and you watch the door open in the mirror. Riddle comes in, a small tray in hand. The minute he sees you, he carefully approaches, placing the tray on the bedside table. You prop your bed up to see him better, smiling gently to try and ease his guilty and nervous expression.
“It’s nice to see you.” “I um… brought you something.” Riddle mumbles, opening the box he brought in. Unveiling it, you can see it is a tiny strawberry tart, the ones you would always try to sneak to him when you lived at home. The edges were burnt and it was slightly misshapen, but it was perfect. “I um.. made it, by myself.” He holds his hands in front of himself and looks down.
You reach over for it just to cause Riddle to fuss over you. “Don't move, you're hurt, I’ll feed you.” The housewarden holds the box in his arm, pulling out the spoon he brought with him and carefully scooping up a piece shakily before holding it to your mouth. “Heh, I can get used to this.” “You still have the energy to tease me on your deathbed? You really are… something…” Riddle pouts, making you snicker internally as you take the bite, savoring the tart in all its glory. It’s probably the best thing you’ve ever had.
“I'm sorry, I’m sorry… The tart is really good though…” “We are planning to have an Unbirthday party to make up for the last one… It was supposed to be today, but I put it off so you can come when you're better… If you want to.” “Will it be like the tea parties we imagined as kids? Where were together and can play and eat whatever we want?” “Yes, yes it will be just like the tea parties we had as kids.”
You tear up a bit. “I would love to.”
#twisted wonderland#twisted wonderland x reader#riddle rosehearts x reader#riddle rosehearts#disney twisted wonderland#enma yuuken#ace trappola#deuce spade
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More Than You Know
Pairing: Steve Harrington x FemReader(Plus-size!)
Warnings: fat shaming, body image issues, swearing, angst, lots of yelling, fluff
Summary: You had liked Steve since the day you met but you never entertained the idea of being with him because you figured a popular guy like him would never date a girl your size. Coming to terms with this didn’t mean you’d stop defending him in a world full of ungrateful girls. So you reach your breaking point when you’re sick and tired of watching girls miss out on something that would be so good for them. Thing was, Steve heard everything you had to say.
word count: 2047
Masterlist
“Looking good today Lola” you could practically see the smirk on Steve’s face from the sound of his voice. Looking up you saw his eyes trained on the blonde beside you, who had yet to put returns you had finished rewinding back on the shelf, her nail file much to important.
Lola Grant was everything you were not. Blonde, primp, perfect. Steve loved her for all of those things including her tiny waist. You on the other hand hated her for all of those things. She wore dresses with flower patterns and you still wore the same tattered converse, ripped and worn in all the best ways. Your jeans and Motley Crue T-shirt didn’t compare. You were not the same.
“Thanks Stevie” you hated the nickname, especially how it brought a smile the shaggy haired boys face.
“I was wondering if you were free Friday night, I’m having a movie night with the kids and was wondering if you wanted to join?” you had lost count of all the attempts Steve had made to ask the girl out. There had to of been a billion by now.
“Sorry Steve but that sounds pathetic spending Friday night with underage kids” she sneered, meanness dripping from her tone. Steves smile faltered only slightly and despite how much you hated him for still trying he was still your friend.
“Then what’s your ideal date Lola?” your tone was sharp, accusatory, and just plain angry that she couldn’t see how great a guy he was. Not that she deserved him anyway.
“A fancy dinner, wine, making out in a movie theater, third base in the back of a BMW. Nothing to do with babysitting” she responded promptly. Steve hummed with satisfaction, a dopey grin on his face. The sentence immediately making him forget how rude she was in the first place. His mind now only in the backseat of a BMW.
“Classy” you quipped, and she offered a forced smile but knew you were judging her. Yet a girl like you didn’t really get under her skin. How could you when you guys weren’t even in the same league of girls.
“We could do something else, maybe a movie?” you didn’t hide the roll of your eyes as Steve tried again.
“Maybe another time Stevie, I’m busy this weekend” a lie and you knew it, and maybe he did too. Finally picking up the stack of tapes you rewinded she moved off to place them on shelves.
“Get real Steve” you snipped, the moment she was out of ear shot.
“What’s your deal?” he asked and you shook your head, amused he couldn’t see how shitty she was.
“My deal is that girl sucks, you’ve got so much more going for you” you said pushing a new tape into the machine and hitting rewind. Steve moved behind the counter, taking Lola’s previous spot.
“She doesn’t suck, she’s cool and hot. Hard to get but I don’t give up” he smirked as he crossed his arms and you groaned, annoyed that he was so blinded by her fake appearance. She was nothing more than a girl who peaked in high school and Steve was so much more.
“She’s not cool nor is she hot. Don’t you ever think? If she actually had anything going for her she wouldn’t still be stuck here working in a video store” your anger caused the words to rattle out and Steves face dropped.
“Wonder what you think of me then?” you instantly realized your mistake and began shaking your head. You wished Robin wasn’t at school and was here to defend you.
“That’s not what I meant Steve-” but he was already shaking his head in offense and pushing himself off the counter.
“It’s exactly what you meant Y/N” he spoke harshly, hurt by his friend and the words you had spoke as he walked into the back room. Sighing you dropped your head on the counter, upset you pissed him off.
“What’s wrong? Did he deny you?” Lola chuckled as she returned to the counter now free of VHS tapes. Lola viewed life as a social ladder. She was on the top, Steve right below her, which is why she never dated him, and you were all the way on the bottom. She was out of Steve’s reach but you were miles away.
“No Lola, thanks for having faith in me” sarcasm laced your tone as you lifted your head.
“How could I have faith in you, you’ve never had a date in your life” she chuckled, annoyed you gave her so much crap when she saw you as absolutely nothing. She didn’t even think Steve should be talking to you.
“Shut up Lola” you spoke, not wanting anymore shit, already angry enough.
“You want to know why you haven’t had a date Y/N?” Lola expression turned menacing as she moved towards you, mean girl genes firing through her bones. “Because you’re fat, and weird, and no guy is attracted to that”
“You know what?” normally Lola would get to you, break your heart and allow tears to pool in your eyes. But today was your breaking point. She could treat you as badly as she wanted but you were done with her treating Steve like that.
“What?” her amused expression didn’t falter as she waited for some lame comeback bound to fall from your mouth.
“You’re a bitch Lola. Nothing more than a washed up high school mean girl. You’re gonna spend the rest of your life in this God forsaken town, running though men like their a God damn marathon, until you end up stuck with some creepy old man who knocked you up, and you’ll never be anything more than that girl from high school absolutely everyone hated” Lola was shocked as you continued to raise your voice at her, alerting Steve from the back room.
“You don’t know what you’re talking about” Lola began to shake her head but you were beyond angry now, laughing as you approached her. Steve moved to the door, listening to everything you both said.
“Yes I do, because everyday you treat Steve like shit when he thinks you’re the best thing on earth. Do you know how crazy that is? Steve is the greatest guy I know. He cares for so many people when he doesn’t even have to, including me, he even drives Robin to school everyday even if he doesn’t have to be up for work, because he’s such a great guy. He’s the kind of guy who would treat you right and every day for no fucking reason you tell him no” Lola opened her mouth to speak but you quickly held up a hand, not done with your spiel.
“Not to say you deserve a guy like that because you don’t, and twenty years from now, while your holding your child on the porch of your trailer home, you’re gonna be wishing you said yes to him. Every day I hope he’s gonna walk through those doors and ask me out instead because I know what he’s worth. He may be way out of both our leagues but at least I appreciate him. The only reason he still asks you is because you are the skinny, pretty girl, and that fucking stings. Yet I guess that’s how this cruel world works. So leave us both the fuck alone from now on” heavy breaths left your mouth as you finished, Steve having heard the whole thing, shocked to hear such passion come from you.
“Okay, I’m sorry” Lola muttered, before rushing from behind the counter. “I’m gonna take off, my shift is up anyway”
“Bye” you snipped, and she wore a guilty expression as she quickly collected her things and fled the building. You dropped your head back on the counter, now worked up from the drama. Steve finally walked out the back room, knowing Lola was gone.
“You think I ask her out because she’s prettier than you?” your shoulders tensed at his voice, not realizing he heard the whole thing. “Because you’re way prettier than her”
“Don’t lie to me right now Steve, guys don’t date big girls like me” you looked up as you shook your head at him. Steve didn’t care the enthuse the idea.
“I never asked you out because I thought you were too good for me” you furrowed your eyebrows as he continued to talk anyway. Steve had always thought you were pretty and on top of that you were also the best person he knew.
“I’m nothing special and you’re kinda the coolest person I know. I ask Lola out because she’s the kinda girl I’m gonna end up with, not because of her looks compared to yours. I’m just not good enough for you” you scoffed, not believing a word because you truly had never heard kind words like this before. It was also hard to believe he could feel like same way you had all this time, used to people avoiding you because of your size.
“I’m not looking for the you’re not fat, you’re beautiful speech. You weren’t supposed to hear what I said. So can we just drop it” you said turning away from him, uninterested in this lame attempt at making you feel better. You had accepted your fate a long time ago.
“You are beautiful Y/N. Fuck, why can’t you see that? I never asked you out because you were the most amazing thing I’ve ever seen and I didn’t want to ruin that” tears pooled in your eyes because if you let yourself believe him and it wasn’t true you weren’t sure you’d ever recover.
“You’re a great guy Steve, you wouldn’t ruin anything. I would” Steve’s heart warmed because he heard how you had defended him like that. Not even he thought he was so great and apparently you noticed him more than he thought you did.
“Thank you for defending me, and it made me realize that I do deserve someone who would defend me like that. So go out with me Y/N, and not just because of this whole thing, because I’ve wanted to date you since the day we met” you shook your head, the tears now falling down your face.
“Steve if you hurt me, I just can’t. I wouldn’t be able to handle it” Steve felt his heart break as he looked at you. Really looked at you and he felt terrible he had never made you realize how amazing you were in the first place. He was selfish staying away because you deserved to be shown you were just as beautiful as any girl Steve had dated.
“Let me prove you wrong” he said gripping your arms and you looked up at him, tear filled eyes, and he felt the wind get knocked out of him from the look in your eyes. The fact he never realized you loved him back before was shocking because he could see it written all over your face.
“Okay” you muttered and before you could even react he tugged your lips against his. Arms gripping you for dear life and your eyes were wide as you realized what he had done. He had kissed you and you had never even expected it. Then you realized how soft his lips were, how he tasted like cherries, and his warm mouth soothed every ache in your heart. Your hands gripped his shirt as you settled into the kiss, relaxation taking over you, eyes fluttering shut as he moved to wrap his arms around you. If you had known yelling at Lola would make Steve Harrington kiss you like this you would’ve done it a lot sooner. You weren’t even fully sure you were supporting yourself anymore, knees weak from the fire he has ignited in your stomach.
“Holy shit” Steve panted as he pulled away, a dopey smile on his face, because he had never felt like that from kissing a girl before.
“I know” you panted right along side him and he let out a giddy chuckle, moving to pull you back into his arms.
“I may not deserve you but after that I’m not going down without a fight”
#steve harrington imagine#steve harrington imagines#steve harrington smut#steve harrington#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington x plus sized reader#steve harrington x you#joe keery#stranger things#steve harrington x fem!reader#steve harrington x fem#steve harrington x ofc#steve harrington x y/n smut#imagine#stranger things imagine#netflix
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You wouldn’t believe the things I have done for her (Daemon Targaryen x Reader)
Summary: Daemon lives a dangerous life. You wish you could find a way to protect him, but you are too afraid of guns. Lucky you, Daemon has a plan.
A/N: Do not try this at home. Requested by the lovely @avalyaaa I am sorry it took me so long, but I wanted to give your request the attention it deserved.
Warnings: Smut. Mafia! Daemon. Gun kink. I CANNOT STRESS THIS ENOUGH: GUN KINK. Slight degradation.
You sit quietly in the back of the car. In the front seat sits Harwin, drumming his fingers against the steering wheel. He is bored. You can tell by the way he keeps fiddling with things. Changing the radio station, messing with the AC.
Harwin probably misses his old work. It’s not like Daemon needs a bodyguard or a driver. You know it’s more for your protection than his. And while Harwin is no stranger to guarding people who don’t need his protection, you bet the fact that Rhaenyra was fucking him made the prospect much more agreeable.
The AC gets turned off again. You would scold him for it, were it not for the fact you are deadly bored yourself. Daemon’s quick meeting has turned into an hour long one, and you have been instructed to not step out of the car. The only entertainment you have is your phone, and you can only scroll through so many TikToks before wanting to claw your own eyes out.
Instead of continuing to refresh your For you page, you turn your attention back to obsessing over your conversation with Daemon. The shame from your stupidity makes your cheeks heat up.
“I don’t trust them.” Daemon had said, pressing a kiss to your cheek. He often avoided kissing you in the lips whenever you were close to his associates. As if not kissing you could trick them into thinking you were not relevant and convince them not to target you. “They are…. Not the most respectful with women.”
“You don’t trust me, you mean. To handle myself.” And by the Seven, it had even sounded bratty to your ears. You had not meant it like that at all. You had only wanted him to stop using that shitty excuse.
There were women who attended these meetings. You knew it. Hell, you had even met them. And these weren’t sex workers or strippers. These were women who held high positions in the organization. Rhaenyra, who was going to inherit it one day. Mysaria, who ran an informant network. Even Alicent pitched in from time to time. You were tired of being lied to. Sometimes, you craved the more normal boyfriend experience.
“I trust you. I don’t trust them.” Daemon had chuckled at your pout, and given you a pat in the head. “Behave.”
It had felt so dismissive. So humiliating. As if you were a child and not an actual grown woman. You hated arguing with Daemon. There was something about his tone, or his attitude, you were not sure which, that made him sound forever condescending.
You supposed inherited wealth was like that. The Targaryens had been running their schemes for nearly six generations by now. They were royalty by modern standards, even when you didn’t know about their more shady dealings.
It was no use, being upset over it. Daemon was too set in his ways to change. You needed to find a way around your problem, instead of charging right into it. But nothing comes to you at this moment, so you unlock your phone and continue your scrolling.
You save a few recipes you want to try, and like some pet videos. You are thinking of asking Daemon to adopt a puppy. A small breed would suit your apartment better, but you know Daemon. He will probably want the most intimidating dog he can get his hands on. A big, scary doberman could be something you could get behind. You had been feeling unsafe as of late.
A sudden, loud noise makes you jerk on your seat. You start to ask Harwin what’s wrong, but you don’t manage to even form the words. It's happening too fast.
“Get on your knees and do not get up until I say!” Harwin shouts. You do not need further explanations, understanding something is really wrong. You fall into the floor of the car with such haste that your phone is sent flying under the seat.
“…. Whisk the butter and the sugar…” You try to reach for it, but the space is too cramped, and suddenly the car is moving, throwing the phone around. Your knees throb from dropping yourself from the seat too hard, and you try to focus on that and not the way your heart feels like it’s in your throat. A gunshot, you realize. A gunshot. You should be used to them by now, but you still feel afraid.
Harwin drives fast and efficiently. It’s two full blocks before he orders you to get up again. You do so, legs shaking. There is a wet feeling on your knee. Blood. You had scrapped it when you threw yourself on the ground.
“What happened?” You ask him, smoothing your clothes down. Now that your panic isn’t as intense, you feel a pang of guilt. Daemon. Seven Hells, you had left him back there. “Daemon?”
Despite knowing that Harwin’s orders are first and foremost getting you out of danger, you can’t help but feel guilty. You had not even thought to worry about him. He is probably fine, considering the place was filled with Targaryens. He is also more than capable of handling himself. But to be so blinded by your fear that you did not even think of him…
“I got no fucking clue.” He asks, meeting your eyes in the mirror. “I’ll call Daemon, alright?”
“Yeah.” You say, quietly. You grab the seat’s edge and squeeze, as if you could will Daemon to your side by frustration alone. Harwin dials.
“Yeah, we are fine.” Harwin says, smiling at you through the mirror. You know he wouldn’t be so casual if something bad had happened, and so, you give him a thumbs up. Your guilt eases a bit, being replaced by relief. “She is fine, just a bit shaken up.” And he rolls his eyes because Daemon can be a bit overbearing.
“Just trouble with an errand guy.” Harwin explains, once the call is over. “He should be here soon.”
But despite how casual they made it sound, you couldn’t shake the fear and guilt away. It stayed on your mind, nestled like a worm, curling around your brain and threatening to choke it. When the night comes, and Daemon sleeps peacefully by your side, you still think of it. Of how you could die, and he could too. And there wouldn’t be a thing to be done.
You sit up on your side of the bed, letting the sheet pool around your waist. You hug your knees to your chest. The night is chilly, and the blackout curtains Daemon insists on having to ensure the room is pitch black. It only serves to disquiet you further.
There is a gun on Daemon’s nightstand. Should there be one in yours? His work is dangerous enough to warrant it. Enough to warrant you having a bodyguard, why not a weapon of your own?
You weren’t going to let him die. Nor were you going to leave him behind, like today. This was the twenty-first century, not the Middle Ages. You were tired of cowering back and acting the damsel in distress. If someone is going to try to hurt the man you love, you sure will fight back.
Daemon was yours. As much as you were his, and so, it wasn’t fair that only he protected you. You needed to be able to have his back, or at least, not be a distraction in a fight.
Your decision is not just something you can communicate to Daemon, though. He is not going to like it. You know him. Daemon is a bit old-fashioned like that. He likes gender roles a little too much for it. He is your protector and provider, and you are supposed to just be sweet and warm. The thought of you using a gun will probably cause him a heart attack.
And the thing is, Daemon doesn’t just style himself your protector. He does an outstanding job of it. He has managed to keep you away from the nastier side of his business. Never have you seen a dead body, or any of his associates beyond his family. So if you hope to achieve this, you need to be smart about it.
You decide you will tell him first thing in the morning when he is barely awake. He will be more susceptible that way. And happy with your plan, you finally manage to catch a few hours of sleep.
The next morning, you get started making breakfast with only one thing in mind. Convincing Daemon. You are barefoot, wearing only one of his shirts. It’s basic manipulation, and he will probably able to tell, but you hope it will soften him to your cause.
It’s when you are scrambling the eggs that he emerges, lured by the smell of fried bacon and a fresh pot of tea. Daemon wraps himself around you, still warm with sleep.
“Morning, love.” His voice is still a bit hoarse with sleep. He nuzzles your neck and hums, pleased. “Couldn’t I convince you to come back to bed?”
You laugh.
“Not really. The eggs are almost done.” You take the pan off the stove, letting it cool. “I would like to learn how to shoot.”
Daemon stiffens. You can feel him pull back from you. It’s not a physical thing, his arms remain wrapped around your waist, but his voice becomes colder and meaner. He is fully awake now.
“And why, in the Seven Hells, would you need to learn?”
“To feel safer.” You answer, keeping your tone steady.
“Do you not feel safe already? I could hire you another bodyguard.” Daemon hugs you slightly tighter. You lean into the counter a little bit, and sigh. Then, you detangle yourself from him.
“I don’t want a bodyguard. I need to learn how to shoot.” You state again, calmly. You turn to look at him. He looks more annoyed than angry.
“Sweetheart. You know that is not the best idea.” Daemon pinches the bridge of his nose.
“Why not?” You cross your arms over your chest.
“You are sensitive. You cry when animals die in movies.” He complains, stepping a bit closer to you. Daemon pours you a cup of tea and plates the eggs. “Go sit. I’ll wrap this up.”
You give him a sullen look but obey, watching him cut and toast the bread just in the way you like. You sit by the kitchen’s island, watching him work. Daemon is only wearing his underwear. You don’t think he owns something that resembles pajamas. Targaryens always run hot, or so they say.
Disappointing yourself, you let yourself be distracted by the view. You watch the muscles on his back shift and move as he finishes breakfast for you. You are mesmerized by the elegance of his every movement.
He is delicious, you think to yourself. You want to climb him like a tree. Despite the slight age difference, Daemon is more handsome than other men you have met. He is a bit vain, sure, but his efforts are worth it.
It’s only after he sits next to you that you remember what you were doing. You blame it on the lack of sleep.
“So?”
“You are my woman. It’s my duty to protect you. I’ll keep you safe.” Daemon rubs your shoulders, comfortingly. His voice sounds apologetic, a denial despite the soft tone he is using. “You know I keep you well away from danger.”
And he does. Not only Harwin and him have talked protocols, but Daemon has also ensured you would be protected even in the event of his death or imprisonment. You have numerous properties to your name, a few fake passports and three hidden bank accounts in different tax havens. None of which would be taken away if the two of you break up, Daemon has clearly stated. He loves you enough to want you to be protected even if you don’t love him anymore.
“I don’t like being powerless.”
“I seem to remember you do.” He squeezes your thigh, playfully. Your breath shifts despite yourself. You cover it by taking a sip of your tea and leveling a faux glare at him.
“I know.” Daemon kisses your nose. “I like that you don’t know how to shoot. That you are clean from this world.”
“It won’t sully me.” You argue because it’s a silly thing to think. It’s not like you are going to start shooting people or running illegal gambling rings. You just want to be able to defend yourself if something happens. And perhaps Daemon. If he doesn't feel too emasculated, this ridiculous man of yours.
“If I wanted a woman who knew how to shoot I would still be with Rhaenyra.” He complains.
“Plenty of women know how. I am not…” You rub at your eyes, tiredly. You want him to understand nothing is going to change between the two of you. “I do not want to go to your stupid meetings or meet your associates for dinner. I just want to know how to defend myself if something happens.”
“And I am saying you don’t need to because nothing is going to happen.” Daemon’s voice turns firmer. Now you can tell he is beginning to get angry, so you reach for his hand and squeeze.
“But if it does? If one night we wake up and there is a gun to our faces? Then what? Do I just let you die for me?” You allow your voice to break in the last part, letting him truly see your anguish. It is a fear of you that has lived on too long. You need this. You need to be able to defend both of you if something happens.
“Oh, sweetheart.”
It gets you to the firing range. Daemon takes you there in the middle of the week, hoping to inconvenience the least amount of people with him booking the entire place.
Your first impression of it is that it’s nothing like in the movies. There are neat little booths with circular targets instead of human shaped ones. You had expected only utilitarian decoration, harsh white lighting and white walls. Instead, the place looks well maintained and expensive. You should have expected so, considering this is Daemon you are talking about.
“Your first lesson…” Daemon says, eyeing you distrustfully. You stare right back at him. “Will be on safety.”
He takes two bulletproof vests out of a hanger, as well two pairs of earmuffs.
“These are protection gear, meant to be used each time you are practicing. And hopefully…” Daemon passes the bulletproof vest over your head. You let him do so, lifting your arms when he instructs you. The vest is heavier than you expect, and more solid too. It feels like what you wear when you are getting an x-ray. “You will use the vest too if you ever fire a gun outside here.”
“And not the earmuffs?”
“You should wear them to protect your ears, especially if you are firing many rounds. But you never see people wearing these because they are heavy-duty protection. In a real fight, you wouldn’t be able to hear your surroundings. Gunshots are pretty loud. So are gunfights.”
“Is that why you are losing your hearing?” You sass, with a grin. “I thought it was just your old age.”
“Oh, shut up. Little brat.” Daemon smacks your ass, playful. It doesn’t even hurt, but you jump and squeal in faux outrage. He laughs at your antics, and it does make you feel better about forcing him to teach you this.
“Should we do the whole…?” You gesture vaguely, trying to reference the classical movie or book montage where the female lead and the love interest stand very close, under the excuse to fix her posture. Daemon shakes his head.
“What is even that?” You would call him an old man for missing your reference, but you know he is sensitive about his age. Besides, you are not a great mime either. “No. You are going to stand with your legs and shoulders the same width apart and a proper posture. No slouching!”
“You know, not all of us grew up with a tutor chasing us and screaming for proper posture.” You grumble, but comply with his orders.
“Perhaps if you had, you wouldn’t need all those Pilates and Yoga classes you so enjoy.” Daemon argues right back. He circles you and pushes a bit at your hips. You try to loosen them. “Perhaps my cards would not explode then.”
“Shut up. It’s not like you don’t reap the benefits.”
Your good humor disappears when Daemon places a gun on the counter in front of you. You go quiet, suddenly unsure of your choice. He shows you how to charge it and how to put the safety on and off. You pay him all of your attention, feeling a bit numb. Most of the details about it fly over your head, despite your attempts to memorize them.
“Alright. I think you are ready for your first try.” Daemon says, handing you the gun. You grab it with trembling hands. You adjust your stance and ensure the muzzle is pointing down, and that you are not gesturing wildly with it. He puts your earmuffs on, and then his.
The world around you feels muffled. You swear you can hear your heartbeat, with how silent everything is. The gun in your hands is throwing you off. It looks odd. These can’t be your hands. You feel like you are not actually there, but watching the scene unfold from outside, watching someone else about to shoot.
Daemon adjusts your grip with his hands, casual about his proximity to the loaded weapon. You stiffen as soon as you feel him approach you, worried about accidentally shooting him.
“Come on.” He mouths, impatiently. You lift the gun, take the safety off, and aim. You pull the trigger, and it is with an awful noise and jerk, that you fire for the first time. The shot goes wide, hitting the wall next to the target.
Daemon taps your shoulder and gestures for you to go again. He watches your every move. His expression betrays nothing. If you are going at it the wrong way, you wouldn't be able to tell.
You repeat the motion, flinching at the noise. Even with the earmuffs it’s loud. It reminds you of that day in the alley, and makes your stomach clench. Daemon signals for you to put the gun down, and you do so, glad that it’s over. You can’t believe you thought you could actually do this. You feel so stupid. He was right, you are too soft.
Daemon can probably tell you are getting too in your head. He removes your earmuffs and pulls you in for a hug. The vests make it awkward, but you feel comforted by his solidness next to you.
“You did great, sweetheart.” He lies, and kisses your temple. You feel so disappointed you could cry. A laugh bubbles out of you, a bit hysterical.
Daemon tsks. He reaches for the gun and deftly discharges it.
“Come on.” He says, kissing your cheek. “I know what your problem is.”
“Yeah?” You ask him, a bit doubtful. You don’t want to feel any sort of hope, just in case that he is mistaken. Giving up so easily might be childish, yet you had not expected this to be so hard. After all, like half the people that Daemon knew could do it.
“You have to learn to love the gun.” He places it back on your hand and steps up behind you. It seems like you are doing the movie thing after all. He kicks your legs a bit, encouraging you to shift your stance.
“Love the gun?”
“You keep looking at it like it’s a weapon of mass destruction.” Daemon laughs, and mouths along your nape. You shiver. It’s an almost Pavlovian reaction by now. When Daemon’s voice gets all low and husky, and he holds you like that, your body knows it’s time for sex. It’s very inappropriate. But conditioned as you are, you can’t stop the throb of arousal between your thighs. “Stop looking like you are horrified by it.”
He fixes your grip around the gun. He steadies your hand.
“Shoot.”
You obey, pulling the trigger. The gun clicks, but nothing happens. It’s unloaded.
“Good.” Daemon says, and lightly bites your shoulder. “Again.”
You repeat the motion. He has you do it over and over again, until you no longer flinch when pulling the trigger. When you are fully desensitized to the sound, Daemon takes the gun from you.
“Great job.” He says, placing the gun right on your face. “Now kiss it.”
“Excuse me?” You stare at Daemon, sure that he must be joking. Kissing the gun? No way. But one look at his face, at the amused curve of his lips, and the mischievous glint in his eyes, tell you that he is serious.
“You heard me.” Daemon chuckles, a bit darkly. You understand then that this is both for his amusement and a punishment. He gets off on humiliating others, that you know. And he had not liked that you had forced him into giving you shooting lessons. He now intends to bring you down a few pegs. “Kiss the barrel.”
You scrunch up your face. You got your pride, too. Despite knowing that submitting to his whims is easy and will probably pacify him for a while, you can’t help but resist. Your whole body rebels at the idea of accepting such an obvious power play.
“Come on, don’t be like that. You owe me.” Daemon tilts your head up, placing a finger under your chin. He makes a show of cooing over your pout, before leaning in to kiss you.
“I don’t!” You move your head away, denying him. It’s a bit cruel, and it makes him frown, which you consider a win.
“You so do. I didn’t want to teach you, you know. At least give me good jerk off material.” He pouts at you, and you can’t help but smile a little. He is ridiculous.
It is part of why you love him. Daemon is young in spirit, if not in body, and he makes you feel younger too. Giddy and willing to do silly things. Silly things like leaning in and kissing the barrel of a gun.
The metal is cold under your lips, hard and unyielding. Daemon makes a pleased noise and pulls you in for a kiss. You can feel him smile against your mouth, before trying to deepen it. Playfully, you nip at him, until it is him who yields and opens up for you.
It is then that he presses the cold barrel against your nape. The feeling of the gun against your skin makes you tense and jerk, giving him once again the upper hand. With the control of the kiss back in his hands, he pulls you closer.
You feel yourself slowly starting to become aroused. One of Daemon’s hands finds your hip, squeezing the flesh there. His gesture is both possessive and greedy. Something swoops in your belly, dark and demanding. You want all his attention on you, you want him all for you.
Making out with Daemon is a full-bodied experience. It shouldn’t surprise you, then, that he starts to gently run the muzzle of the gun down your neck. At first, you don’t notice, too caught up on how close both of you are. Your chest is flush against his, and the feeling of his body against yours makes you whimper, before you realize what game is he playing.
“Daemon.” You warn, annoyed. He gives you a shit eating grin.
“I am just getting the two of you better acquainted. My best girls.” Daemon leans in and kisses behind your ear. He takes his time, making out with the shell of it. He is cautious to do all the right things to make you tremble against him. Yet, you can’t seem to forget about the gun, running down your sternum, between your breasts.
The muzzle gets caught against your clothes. Daemon uses it to push one of the sleeves of your top a little aside, to be able to lavish the skin there with kisses. You only feel the metal against your skin for a second, but it makes you think about how it would feel against your naked skin. Would the cold make your hairs stand up on edge, and your nipples pebble? Or would it warm up to your temperature?
The thought makes your breath hitch, and your panties even wetter.
“There is no one here.” You say, quietly. “If you were to take off my shirt…”
“Oh, sweetheart.” Daemon grins, encouraging you to lean against the counter of the firing range. “You devious little thing.”
He drops to his knees in front of you, carefully taking your clothing off. You watch him move between your legs, helping you widen your stance. Daemon kisses a path from your ankles towards your knees, mouthing along as if having the finest of banquets. His kisses feel scorching against your skin, and you can’t help but jut your hips slightly, trying to command him into touching you.
Daemon smiles at you, cheekily. He then bites your inner thighs, scratching just enough to make you arch in pleasure-pain. When you are just about to hike one of your legs over his shoulder, he sucks your clit inside his mouth, and it’s then that you feel it. The cold barrel of the gun, pressing along your inner thighs.
You moan. Daemon laughs.
“You little whore.” It sounds fond. He eats you out without any finesse, slurping noisily. The thought of anyone else being able to overhear this makes you embarrassed, so you try to keep quiet. Your eyes close, hands squeezing around the edge of the counter.
Daemon is not trying to bring you any pleasure. His movements and touches are too methodical for it. He presses a finger inside your hole, then another. Then it is scissoring them and shushing you with soft licks to your clit when you complain at the slight sting.
Any pleasure you get out of it is incidental. Instead, Daemon is getting you ready for something. And this time, you know it’s not his cock. The thought fills you with dread and arousement in equal parts. How will it feel? Metal doesn’t give the same way flesh does. But the thought of having a gun, Daemon's, inside you, makes your hips jerk.
“Impatient, aren’t you?” He pulls away, reappearing from between your legs. “Fuck. I don’t know if I want to see your face or your greedy little hole when I put it inside.”
You look at him. His hair is sticking up in all directions, but his smile is absolutely ferocious.
“My face. Just in case…” You reach for his shoulder and squeeze, gently. Despite how arousing you think the whole thing is, you are still hesitant. Sometimes, things don’t feel as you imagine they would. You don’t want this to be disappointing.
Daemon seems to understand, despite the fact that you don’t verbalize it.
“I’ll talk you through it.” He says, kindly. He then spreads your folds a little and presses the tip of the gun against your hole.
You yelp. Your grip on his shoulder turns punishing. It feels pleasant, as penetration often does, but there is a foreign quality to it as well. The gun is wide, and metal doesn’t give as flesh does. You feel as if you are rooted tp the spot by it, being impaled with each inch Daemon presses inside you.
“You are doing so well. Good girl. My little girl.” He presses a kiss to your stomach. He keeps rubbing at your clit until you relax around the barrel. It’s only then that he attempts to fuck you with it. You clench at his shoulders, overwhelmed, and moan.
It’s confusing. The ridges of it feel good, catching against your hole. The metal slowly starts to warm up, not feeling as strange as before. Daemon keeps steadily sucking your clit.
The pleasure builds. So does your need. You start to move your hips along with his thrusting, trying your best to reach your orgasm. So of course, Daemon pulls away from your clit.
“You are taking it so well.” Daemon praises, voice husky with desire. “Your pussy swallows the gun right up.”
You moan, almost without realizing. You are so close it itches. But moving your hips up and down isn’t enough. You need more.
“Daemon, please.” You beg, near tears. Never before have you been this frustrated.
“Who would have known? You are such a hungry little whore.” Daemon smirks. The crudeness of his words makes you gasp. You feel smaller than you have ever felt, yet somehow, it makes you feel deliciously dirty. He is not wrong. It’s embarrassing, how you are humping the gun he holds, but you can’t stop. “You don’t think, you are so desperate you would fuck anything. Do anything, just to fill your greedy holes.”
“Please. Fuck.” You sob. Daemon licks his thumb and starts rubbing your poor, abused clit. He keeps fucking you with the gun, building you up and up, towards the orgasm you so desperately crave. You come with a scream so loud, you thank he has booked the whole place for only yourselves.
Turns out, you don’t hate guns as much as you thought.
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Glue Song (Pt. 1)
summary: jake tries to keep your existence out of rooster’s knowledge. (friends to lovers, pining)
pairing: jake seresin x female reader
warnings: negative self talk
a/n: haven’t wrote in awhile but glue song by beabadoobee and tgm brought me back...ugh i can't i love pining jake.
word count: 2.5k
next part
“I respect the guy, but he is out of his damn mind.” You watch as Jake momentarily pauses his rambling to take another chug of the latte you brewed for him.
“Maverick must’ve hit his head while landing during the last mission. Yeah, that must be why.” he concludes, almost entertaining himself, imagining all the ways the old guy could have begun to lose his sanity.
If Jake wasn’t so annoyed, he would have laughed at the made up scenarios playing out in his head. And of course, voicing them to you afterwards so you could laugh with him.
Noticing that some of the neatly decorated whip cream from his drink had found a new home on his freshly shaved face, you wet your hands in the sink and mindlessly reached over the kitchen island to wipe at his sticky chin.
He blinks back at you, the annoyed expression on his face faltering at your touch.
“There was whip cream on your face. You hate when things get on your skin.” you carefully whisper, pulling your hands back to begin cleaning the dishes again.
Worry began to brew in your stomach, you might’ve crossed a boundary.
After processing what happens, Jake just hums, pursing his lips at you in thanks.
Your body unravels at the notion, the tense muscles of your shoulders relaxing itself.
Jake watches you intently, eyes scanning over every detail of you.
There is a beat of silence as you two acknowledge each other. Your eyes meet in silent conversation. So touching Jake’s face was allowed, you two had agreed without having to say a thing to each other.
As if nothing happened, Jake regains his posture and furrows his eyebrows together once more, signaling that he’s ready to continue his stream of complaints–this becoming a new routine for you two on weekends where you are both off from work.
You couldn’t help but to smile to yourself in moments like these. Moving to San Francisco on your own was not an easy decision. Stability has always been something you craved, even if it meant not putting yourself first. But it quickly wore you out with time. You had a job you were unhappy with, shitty friends who you had kept around for the sake of having a social life, essentially trading in your sanity for the sake of stability. The knowledge that this might be how your life would span out, left you disoriented.
That one fateful summer was when you had decided it was time for a change, despite the fact it made you sick to your stomach to do something so sudden, especially all on your own. But, maybe a new location is just what you needed.
When you first arrived, reality hit you like a truck. All you felt was immense regret, you had no friends, you’re making less money now, and you didn’t know your way around San Diego at all. This wasn’t something you were used to, causing the doubts of your rash decision to eat at you whenever you had a moment to think to yourself. You should’ve never done this.
And as if your guardian angel saw your internal struggle, they sent Jake on your trail to ease all of it. All it took was his odd obsession with the way you specifically made his vanilla lattes, to keep him around—following your every move like he was tethered to you.
After a while Jake found himself not only sticking around for your applaudable barista skills, because there was you. Jake never realized he could possibly laugh so hard that it hurt until he started talking to you during his morning coffee runs. Before you, he had always thought that was just an expression–how was it possible to laugh that hard? And like any other guilty pleasure Jake had, he couldn’t help himself in indulging in you, not wanting to share you with anyone else.
After flight training, he’d unconsciously rush out of the locker rooms without saying goodbye to anyone in order to catch you after your shift. Just so he could walk you to your car as he accidentally bumps into you outside.
And as the weeks flew by, your shared activities quickly branched out from just friendly morning chats and Jake walking you to your car.
Now you found yourself spending weekends with him, where you had continued to make his coffee for him, but now just inside in the comfort of your own apartment. Playful conversations were had every morning, with you behind the counter and him seated across from you grinning ear to ear from hearing your laughter that he evoked from you. This became permanently ingrained into both your weekly routines. His excuse being that he can’t physically survive if you weren’t the one making him his morning coffee, so he obviously has to come see you every weekend. It was a no brainer, he told you.
“He is ridiculous.” he affirms once more before bringing his lips back around the rim, being more careful to not get his drink onto his face this time.
Although it might have seemed like he was rambling to himself, you had been nodding and quietly reacting to every statement he made thus far–assuring him that you were paying attention to him.
“That's funny, coming from the guy who was growing a whip cream beard one second ago.” you inquired.
“When did you stop being so nice to me?” he sulked, something he was specifically raised to never do. His father would have had a stroke if he knew his 30 year old son was habitually sulking now. But it couldn’t be helped, you drew out new behaviors from him, that he never felt ashamed about doing.
“If I knew you were like this, I would have never pestered you at work in the first place.” Though, Jake knew that if his day had been reset from the first day you two met, he’d undoubtedly pester you every single time.
“That’s too bad, isn't it?” You flicker some water on your finger tips at him.
“Hey, watch it missy.” he flinches, bringing a protective palm to hover over his drink.
“So, let me get this clear-” you redirected the conversation back to its original course.
Jake quickly shifts his attention away from the state of his drink and back to you.
“So Maverick..” he nods, confirming that you got his callsign right.
“...wants you and your co-worker Rooster to spend time together outside of work. At least once a week?” you cautiously recall what he told you.
“Yeah, isn’t that horrible?” he puffs his chest in defiance, expecting you to readily agree with him.
“Can’t be that bad though, right? Shouldn’t you two be working on becoming good friends, especially now that your dagger squad is an official detachment now? You’ll be seeing a lot of each other from now on.” you expressively shared your final thoughts with him.
He silently watches you rinse off the dishes as he soaks in what you said, with his brows pinched tightly together. You were right, he knew that.
“We get along fine, we’re kind of cool with each other after that first mission. Why be best buds?” he deflects.
“I want you to have more friends, Jake. Give it a shot.” you attempt to encourage him, while placing his dishes onto the drying rack carefully.
“I have you and Javy.”
“But you can also have Rooster. And who knows, maybe everyone else on the squad too.” you offered up with a smile.
“I have a week to plan our first bonding session.” Jake threw up his fingers in two sarcastic quotes.
“Cute. So like a date?”
You grinned widely watching Jake’s face fall flat.
“God. Please.” he scoffs, trying to fight off the smile making its way onto his face.
“Never call it a date, I’m begging you angel.” Oh. The endearment slipped from his mouth and Jake looked slightly mortified.
Well, it’s not like you weren���t an angel in his eyes anyways, he thought.
Ignoring the flush of heat rushing to your ears, you attempt to casually brush over what he said.
“How about. I lend you a hand, just this once.” Jake’s ear almost perks at your statement, instantly recovering from his slip up.
“I’ll set something up for you two down at the shop after I close up, all you have to do is show up.”
“Only question is, if you trust me enough with something like that.”
Of course I do, he thinks.
Jake wishes he could extract the part of your brain that made you doubt yourself so much. The blond couldn’t think of anything he wouldn't trust you with. And he’d seen you do it so often–second guess yourself, and he hated it. He hated how it made him feel–sick at the thought that you could possibly not believe in yourself.
“If I didn’t, would I be sitting here defenseless at your place?” He flashes his dimples at you in a reassuring smile.
Adoration fills you completely at the sight of him, his tousled morning hair and the creases set under his eyes, marked by his smile makes you glad you decided to take residency here. This feels right, Fightertown feels right. He feels right.
“You’re lucky my love language is acts of service, Jacob Seresin.”
“Mine is physical touch.”
“Gross.”
“Don’t believe me? Come here.” he raises his brows teasingly, getting up from his seat, making his way towards you.
“No. Stay back.” you panic, swatting away his already outstretched arms.
“So…what do we think?” you were basically jittering from where you stood, a poor attempt at holding back your overflowing excitement.
The two naval aviators stood side by side in front of you, almost mirroring each other perfectly. Expressions unreadable, hands on their hips, lips pursed and side eyeing each other—urging the other to speak first. Javy directs Jake to say something first by lifting his chin at him as Jake deadpans his best friend in response.
Between you and the pair of pilots sat a small table you manage to drag in the center of the cafe with a candle flickering in the center, surrounded by an array of chocolate croissants that you knew Jake had an insatiable craving for. The rest of the table was cramped with random assortments of new Valentines recipes you had been testing–and who better to try them than your reliable Jake and his new friend that you would assume to be in equal size as him.
And how could he possibly crush your excitement and tell you this looks absolutely terrifying, and that he would rather do 300 pushups under the unforgiving sun than sit at this romantic table and feast on your heart shaped cookies with the likes of Rooster.
“Well,” Coyote begins, not noticing the pointed glare Jake shoots at him.
Jake observes you begin to shrink in front of his eyes at Javy’s tone and immediately slaps his palm over his friend’s mouth, panicked at what he’ll start to say.
Javy stiffens, shocked that his germophobic friend had even put his hand on his face, recalling all the times Jake complained that Javy should start using cleanser for his “oily” skin. Jake even once swore he would rather eat dirt than touch Javy’s face after seeing sweat drip down his face after their first morning run together.
“It's perfect” he swallows back any sign of hesitancy under your careful gaze.
You know he’s lying for your sake. Although he sounds sure, you could see the prominent vein in his neck protrude, a tell tale sign that he’s feeling pressured.
“Jake..” the uncertainty in your voice makes him want to double over. Your shoulders have already slumped, his eyes frantically watching as your cardigan start to slip down your arms, exposing your bare shoulders.
Javy’s mouth parts as he watches Jake take a big step over to you, gently pulling the sleeves of your knit cardigan up to your shoulder blades again. His hands slowly moving down to your wrist, nervously playing with the cuffs of your sleeves.
Javy’s heart briefly swells at the sentiment, but he knows what he has to do. Jake would thank him for this later, he hopes.
Although Jake has to be the most horrifyingly fearless pilot Javy knows, when it boils down to situations like these–he knows his best friend needs a push in the right direction or else he’ll never take the leap of faith.
Javy pulls himself together.
“Admit that you hate it, Hangman” he speaks up, interrupting the moment.
Bewildered, Jake snaps his neck to face Javy from where he stood in front of you.
“I do not hate it.” his southern accent is now present from being provoked.
Javy feels glad for once that Jake is so stubborn.
“So you’ll happily sit here with Rooster?”
“Yes.” He answers almost immediately.
“Can we join you too?” Javy quickly shoots the question.
“Of course” he answers, right away.
Javy practically glows at the sight of Jake’s eyes shooting wide open, caught off guard by his own reply.
“Perfect. Rooster can hang with all of us.” Javy proudly grins.
Something unfamiliar swirls at the pit of his stomach. You, Javy, and him hanging out? Sure. That's fine, as long as he sits between you two. But You, Javy, him, and Rooster? It’s unpredictable.
When a bird flies straight into his jet unexpectedly, he can handle that–he can predict the outcome. When his jet is jeering towards a canyon and his eject button doesn't work, that’s fine he can predict his next move to get out safely. But the idea of you and Rooster in the same room makes his head spin out of control. Jake feels like his soul shifts out of his body for a moment.
“That’s a great idea Javy! Maybe we can sit in on this hangout so Jake is less nervous too.” you chime in, grabbing Jake’s hands sweetly, swinging them side to side to soothe his nerves.
His head lowers to watch the way your small hands grip at his own calloused ones–playfully swinging your arms left to right in unison in the small space between the two of you. His eyes soften at the sight.
“I want to hear what you guys think of my new recipes too..” you add on, shyly smiling up at Jake–silently asking if that was okay with him.
It's a done deal. He can’t take back what he says. Not when you're staring up at him like this, looking so tooth achingly sweet in his favorite white dress that you own.
“Yeah let’s do it..” he gulps.
thank you for reading, and as always-reblogs are greatly appreciated!
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