#maybe I will release some things on the story I am writing oh how I love it
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I am working on some stuff it will just take time… I am a little too hard on myself I think, I never like what I make but I guess if I don’t like it it must have some kind of value… the artist is always harder on themselves than the public but who am I to say haha.. back to work I say (I guess), toodaloo~
#busy life#in the works#working on it#Never knew life was so busy until I had stuff to do#still getting the hang of this#I am so excited to release things#I lack confidence#thank you for checking out my page#maybe I will release some things on the story I am writing oh how I love it#the story is completely unrelated to anything I have posted though
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I'm Not Sure If I Can Do This
Summary: You want to try something new and Bucky isn't sure if he can do it.
Pairing: Boyfriend!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader
Warnings: 18+, established relationship, teasing, dirty talk, pet names, edging, no protection, no mention of y/n
Word Count: 1.9K
A/N: I wrote this little filthy story because of my friend Andreea's prompt. I'm glad it turned out to be something decent.
You can also send me requests if you want. I can't guarantee I'll write it but I'll certainly try.
Thank you @notafunkiller for proofreading and editing ❤️
All work is mine, please do not repost or translate without my permission.
You thought explaining why you wanted this or even convincing him to do it would be harder, but it was quite the opposite. Bucky Barnes is a guy who loves to give, especially when it comes to pleasure. It’s like he’s thriving on your pleasure while he’s delaying his own. He never made you wait or made you beg for release. Not once. And you really want to be desperate for some reason. And you have no intention to find out why. You just want to experience it. You want him to tease you relentlessly, deny your orgasm, and finally when he allows it, you want it to be explosive.
It’s easy to imagine him doing all those things to you, but the idea of explaining it is just dreadful. That’s why you were so reluctant. You weren’t sure if he would like the idea or maybe he would misunderstand your intention. None of that happened, though. You just said you wanted to try it and as you started to explain why, you noticed how his eyes were shining mischievously. That’s when you realized it was more than okay for him.
And that’s how you ended up all naked and frustrated on your bed. Bucky is a man of his word, so when he said he was going to enjoy this, he was not lying. He has been teasing you for a while now, and all you feel is frustration and of course, that undeniable anticipation.
“Bucky…” You whine as he’s moving so damn slowly inside you. The touches, the kisses, his damn tongue… It all feels good but not enough to make you come.
“Yes?”
The way he looks into your eyes makes you melt. You are so close to forgetting that he has been torturing you. He has been denying your orgasm every time you are getting close, yet the look in his eyes… It shows his true feelings.
“What do you want, baby?”
He sounds like he has no idea what you want. You wish you could hate him for this, but you can’t. You’ve been imagining how this would feel like for so long, and he’s just turning your fantasy into reality while enjoying the ride.
“I wanna come.”
You don’t care if you sound desperate because you are. You are desperate to come. You want that relief you took for granted for so long. All those times he never denied you, all those times he never even paused for a second before giving you all the pleasure in the world.
“Beg for it.”
His response surprises you. You can see the desire in his eyes and how much he’s actually enjoying this, but you never expected that he would be so into it. Maybe he didn’t know it either, but he definitely loves the state you are in. He even seems to enjoy edging himself because while torturing you, he’s torturing himself as well.
“Beg?”
“Yes, baby. Beg. Isn’t that what you wanted?”
“I-” You can’t deny that, can you? You always imagined it this way, but you never actually begged before. It’s easier when you are just imagining things, but looking at his face and saying those words… It feels incredibly hard.
“If you are not ready to beg yet, you are not ready to come, sweetheart.”
Oh, that’s awfully cruel of him yet so freaking hot. He knows you want to do this so badly, but your pride is standing in the way, and he’s willing to take you to the point where you wouldn’t care about it anymore. Yet your mouth says something else.
“But I am so close…”
“I know.” He moves in and out of you. His pace is torturously slow, yet it still feels amazing.
Then his fingers move onto your clit, gently rubbing it, and you feel a jolt of electricity all through your body. It’s like a promise. The promise of blinding pleasure, but he stops after a couple of rubs and makes you whine.
“You know what you have to say, don’t you?” You nod in response, tears are beginning to well up. “You can get what you want, any time you want.” You know that, but it’s like your mouth is having a hard time saying those words. “And you know we can stop this any time you want, right?”
He’s trying to remind you of your safe word, but you don’t want to stop. You have no intention of using it.
“Please…” Your voice comes out so pathetically, but it makes him smile. Why is it so hard to say?
“Please what?” He combines his words with actions. He moves a little bit harder inside you, and it reminds you of what you need. All you need is to ask him, and you know he will give it to you. You close your eyes and take a deep breath, bracing yourself to beg.
“Please move harder.” When you open your eyes back up, you see Bucky smirking. It just spurs something inside you. “Please, please…”
“Oh, baby…” He sounds so condescending yet loving at the same time. You have no idea how that’s even possible. “You really need it, don’t you?”
“Yes!” Your answer comes out instantly. Fuck your pride, you need this.
“Then you will get what you want.” You feel relieved but it doesn’t last long. “But I have one condition.” He completely stops while talking. “You won’t come before I say you can, got it?”
“But…”
“I will move faster and harder, like you asked me to, but you gotta hold it.” He sounds like he’s explaining edging to someone who has no idea what it is. “Show me what a good girl you can be, and I will give you what you want.”
Fuck… He’s making it so hard and hot at the same time. You really didn’t think he would take it this seriously. You thought just a please would be enough for him but it’s not. Yet you can’t seem to find it in your heart to regret asking him to do this.
“Can you do that for me?”
“I… I don’t know. I’ve never tried it before.”
“I know you can take it, sweetheart. Just show me how good you are.”
He’s a menace. He knows praising you will help and he’s using it damn well. So you find yourself nodding, and that’s when he finally starts to move again.
His hands are grabbing your waist, while he’s fucking you the way you imagined it. It’s rough, it’s fast, but god damn, it feels amazing. You feel your orgasm is quickly approaching, especially after all that teasing, and you try not to focus on the pleasure. It’s so hard to move against your nature. Your body just wants to give into it and enjoy it to the fullest, but no, that’s not what your mind wants. So you close your eyes to fight it. Maybe that will help.
“No, no, no.” You hear Bucky saying. “You gotta look me in the eyes, baby. No cheating.”
“But that’s not…” He doesn’t let you finish.
“But it is.”
“Fine.” You know you sound like a child when you open your eyes back to see his pretty ones. They are so full of love and desire. You could come just looking into his eyes but you won’t. Not until he says so. You want to experience that crashingly intense orgasm.
“Good girl.”
As if calling you a good girl with that deep voice of his isn’t enough, he starts to gently rub your clit and you can feel yourself clenching around him. Your pussy is begging for release. So are you.
“You are doing so good for me, baby.” His voice is full of adoration. “You look so beautiful. All spread for me. Just waiting for my command to come around my cock.” He slams so hard inside you that it makes you moan even though you were trying to hold back all this time. “Let me hear you. You make such pretty noises.”
“Please, Bucky.” It’s so hard to hold back. You can feel tears running down your cheeks. You never wanted to come this badly in your life before. “Please let me come.”
Finally, those words come out of your mouth. It has been a tough journey, but finally, you can ignore your pride and just ask for what you really want.
“That’s all I needed to hear.” He suddenly pushes your legs onto your chest, practically folding you into two. That allows him to move deeper inside you. “You can come now,” he says right before he starts to move again.
And just like that, you start coming on his command. It’s unbelievable how your body was just waiting for four words to come out of his mouth. All that teasing, all the build-up and anticipation pays off. Your whole body starts to shake while he’s railing you like there’s no tomorrow. Your head is thrown back, your eyes are closed and your lips are parted with the most delicious moans coming out of them.
“That’s it, baby. Take it all.” He sounds like he’s close himself, but you are too lost in the bubble of pleasure to do or say something about it.
It’s nothing like you have ever felt before. It’s so intense that there’s no thought in your mind, other than Bucky and how good he makes you feel. It’s so long that you forget to breathe for a while. Your ears are buzzing, and your muscles are contracting. You never knew this was possible. You never knew it would be better than you imagined.
When you finally come down from your high, you open your eyes to see Bucky with the most pleased expression. He hasn’t come yet. You can feel how hard he’s inside you, but you can see how accomplished he feels.
“God, you are so fucking beautiful.” He keeps moving with the same pace, chasing his high.
“Come for me, Bucky,” you say while you reach out to touch his face. He has been working so hard to make your fantasy real. “Come inside me. Please.”
“Fuck.” You can see he’s about to come. The veins around his eyes get so visible when he’s close. “You want it, baby?” His voice comes out like a groan.
“Yes. I want it. Please, give it to me.”
That does it. You just watch how he starts to come and damn, it’s such a pretty sight. You have seen this many times before, but it never ceases to surprise you. Him losing himself in pleasure like that… Especially when you know you are the reason for it. You are the reason why he’s so turned on. You are the reason why he comes so hard. You are the one doing this to him.
When he’s done, he gently moves out and rolls next to you. You whine a little because of how empty you suddenly feel. You feel his hot and deep breaths on your neck. As soon as you think you are feeling a little cold, he wraps his arms around you and pulls you close.
“Thank you,” you say quietly, as if you’re afraid someone else will hear you.
“It’s my pleasure, sweetheart. You have no idea how much I enjoyed that.”
“Oh, I saw how much you enjoyed it, Mr. I’m Not Sure If I Can Do This.”
He scoffs at you bringing up his first reaction. Oh, how wrong he was. It was a completely unexpected experience.
“Maybe we should try choking next time.” You test the waters reluctantly, but the look he’s giving you is nothing but promising.
#bucky barnes#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x female reader#bucky barnes smut#bucky barnes au#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky barnes imagine#bucky barnes one shot#sebastian stan#marvel fanfiction#bucky barnes x reader smut#bucky x reader#bucky x you#james bucky barnes#bucky barnes x f!reader#avengers smut#boyfriend!bucky barnes#my stories
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hey! can i req a spencer reid dating someone that’s like ,,, taylor swift level of famous? and like maybe the team teases him whenever a romantic song that’s clearly ab him plays?
An: YESYESYES ima use Taylor swift songs and I don’t really listen to her so bare with me guys 😍 all for you my lover 🤍 and please bare with me I’m going to write the teams dynamic as best as possible and I took notes on how to write Spencer the way matthew gray gubler is my husband he just doesn’t know it yet 💋
Style
Dr.Spencer Reid x famous af! reader ( reader is female with she/her pronouns)
warnings: some cursing, fluff af, and i think that’s it hope you enjoy my lovers 💖 criminal minds masterlist
Summary: The team finding out about Spencer’s kinda famous girlfriend
posted: April 6,2023
When Spencer woke up this morning he knew that he was going to have a great day. The team had no cases. He talked to you last night to compliment your new song. And he found out that you’re coming over later tonight.
The day couldn’t be better.
Until he actually went to work.
_____
You got that James Dean daydream look in your eyes
And I got that red lip classic thing that you like
And when we go crashing down, we come back every time
‘Cause we never go out of style, we never go out of style
He heard your song blasting through the BAU. He saw Penelope singing and dancing.
He never been more confused in his life.
“Hey pretty boy!” Derek yelled since he can’t hear himself think.
“Hey Morgan! What’s going on?!”
“Garcia and her fascination with Y/N L/N!” The music paused.
“I just want it to be known that Y/N L/N has blessed your ears with her angelic voice this morning.” She saw Spencer. “Hey Reid!”
“Hey Garcia.” She continued playing the song.
“What’s going on? It’s way to early for this.” Emily said walking in with her coffee.
“Babygirl’s favorite singer released her new single.”
Her eyes lit up.
“Oh! Replay it! I want to hear it!” And she did what she was told.
_____
Long story short everyone heard and loved his girlfriend’s new song.
“Hey guys, is it just me or the lyrics sound like Spencer?” JJ said out of nowhere.
Everyone looked at him and agreed.
“Yeah I can see that.”
“You make a good point JJ.”
“It does make sense.” Derek said while inspecting him.
“What! No it doesn’t!”
It does.
“Oh come on Spencer! You got that long hair slicked back white t shirt. That is so you!”
“Just because I have long hair does not mean she is talking about me Penelope.”
‘Besides half of the song isn’t even true.’ He mumbled hoping they didn’t hear them.
But they did.
“What did you just say pretty boy.”
“Shit. Did I say that out loud?”
Penelope gasped. “You never curse unless your hiding something or you’re frustrated! And I’m pretty sure you are not frustrated right now Spencer.”
He didn’t know what to say.
“How would you know half the song isn’t true? You don’t even listen to modern music.” Emily said with a questioning tone.
“Unless you know the song is about you!” Penelope exclaimed.
“Come on! I would not be able to get with Y/N L/N! We are in different calibers. I am a profiler and she is a pop-star with a huge- no, massive fan base. It just would never work.” Everyone looked at him surprised.
“Are you dating Y/N L/N?” Hotch walked in.
“No!”
“You ramble when you’re nervous a lot.” Emily said.
“And he’s getting sweaty.” Derek said with a questioning tone as well.
“Guys I am not dating N/N!”
Shit.
Penelope gasped once again. “You said her nickname!”
He once again was speechless.
He opened his mouth to speak but no words came out.
You were going to be so mad at him.
_____
“That’s hilarious!” You said laughing over the phone.
“What! No it’s not N/N.” You rolled your eyes. “So how did your team of profilers find out?”
He told her everything. And she laughed even more.
“Y/N stop laughing!” He said while his face was heating up.
_____
It was the next day and Spencer found out that you can’t come until next week. So of course his mood is a little down.
_____
“Why the long face pretty boy.” Derek continues. “Your N/N isn’t coming?” Spencer rolled his eyes. “I wouldn’t know because I’m not dating her.”
“Keep telling yourself that Spence.” JJ said and Emily laughed.
“Eek! Y/N is coming out with a new album!” Penelope exclaimed while walking in. “My whole life is complete. I have no more reason of living after such extraordinary news.” Everyone just laughed at her.
“ We should go out together. I need to express my gratitude for this album.”
Everyone just agreed, even Spencer.
_____
He really missed you but at least he has his friends.
He wasn’t ready for tomorrow.
_____
Everyone came in work at the same time and saw someone at Spencer’s desk.
“Who is that?” Penelope asked.
The person in the chair turned around and Spencer’s face lit up.
“Hey guys.” You say waving not noticing Spencer yet.
“Oh my god! Oh my god! That’s Y/N L/N! She’s here!” Penelope said hitting Morgan excitedly.
“Oh my god it is.” He said surprised.
“Have you guys seen Spencer?”
“Y/N” Spencer said surprised as well.
“Spencer!” You said running up to him and jumping into his arms.
The whole team just looked at you guys with shock in their faces.
You guys are totally oblivious at the looks that are being given.
“I thought you weren’t coming until next week.”
“It was obviously a surprise Spence now shut up and kiss me baby!” You say smiling.
You press his lips onto his and he melts in the kiss. Your hands went up to his hair and his hands rest on your hips. Hotch cleared his throat. You two broke apart.
You turn around and apologized and you saw Penelope shaking with excitement.
“You must be Penelope. I have some gifts for you.” You walked over to Spencer’s desk. “This is my new album on a disk and it even has some songs that didn’t make the cut.” You say winking. She was just staring in awe.
“And it’s also signed. I also have backstage passes to a tour that hasn’t been announced yet.” She squealed and you just laughed.
She looked at your boyfriend. “I’m never letting her go.”
Everyone laughed.
Spencer is not living this one down.
An: AHHHHH I just want to apologize for not giving exactly want the request said this just took a mind of its own fr but I hoped you enjoyed until I post again my lovers 🤍
#spencer reid x reader#criminal minds#bau team#derek morgan#jennifer jareau#emily prentiss#spencer reid#criminal minds x reader#I need to go to sleep#my lovers on top
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bro PLEASEEE WRITE any poly 141 smut x reader i’ll DIEEE
Sons Of Anarchy AU
President!Price x Bartender!Reader x Prospect!Gaz
Hints at Vice-President!Simon x Reader, Sergeant in Arms!Soap x Reader. It’s Poly!141 x Reader all round. Reader is basically all four of their old lady she’s the HBIC tbh
I wanted to try something new and why not have them be apart of a motorcycle club/ mechanic shop owners. It’s a hot concept I couldn’t help it but here is the smut! I hope you like it <33
warnings: size kink, manhandling, threesome, blowjob, public sex, slight cock worshiping, ball play (idk a little), throat bulging, and not proofread (yikes), afab reader (its become a force of habit nowadays, thanks to my agere fics)
Putting away the last of the shot glasses on the bar counter she lets out a hum. The chime of the bell above the front door caused her to stand up. Her eyes take in John in all of his glory the MC’s President with a grin on his face.
“John, I thought you guys were heading to New Mexico for that thing with the KorTac MC?”
“Ghost and Soap went with the others, I decided to stay back.”
Placing a shot of whiskey in front of him she raises an eyebrow. She knew there was more to his story than he let on. After a few years of bartending for the MC, she pieced up on mannerisms and behaviors. “Lay it on me, boss, what’s the real reason?”
Looking from the shot to her he shakes his head, “Who’s ta say I have a reason? Maybe I just didn’t feel like going because I’m getting older.”
“Bullshit, we both know you’re as healthy as a stallion,” her focus goes back to cleaning up the bar.
“Oh, am I? Didn’t know you were my doctor,” his voice was drowned out by the sound of the bunnies entering the clubhouse.
Pointing at the door she scowls, “Out girls…y’all know not to come in here around this time.”
Her words were met with eye rolls and huffs of disappointment. It wasn’t anything new as she grew used to the disorderly behavior of the prostitutes. They were always ready to jump at the chance to be with one of the men. They assumed it would earn them a place as an old lady as long as the man they fucked had a kuttle.
“I swear it’s like they don’t give up, just last week I had to scare off a few that were hounding Roach,” she grumbled.
John folded his arms his eyes never leaving the ranting woman before him. It wasn’t a surprise that she was upset she was practically the head old lady in the MC. Aside from being a bartender, she was the support system for 141. He was sure without her being the backbone of their operations they wouldn’t have gotten so far.
“You know what I think,” he mused leaning forward on the counter. The shot glass is in his hand as he twirls the remaining sip of whiskey around. “I think you need to release some stress. When was the last time you moved away from that bar?”
The question hung heavy above her head as she covered her face with her hands. Letting out a groan she shakes her head, “Since last night the party.” The realization of just how long she had been at the clubhouse was finally catching up to her. Removing her hands from her face she looks at the man, “I think I need a break.”
“I figured as much.”
When she first thought over his words of releasing some stress she didn’t think it through. She should have known what he meant but it was too late and he was in deep.
“Keep your hands right there, darling.”
She did just that her hands didn’t move an inch from the bar counter. With each thrust her body jerked forward colliding either the counter. Her moans were ragged, her nails digging into the polished wood before her. The way John’s cock barely fit inside of her was more than a turn-on. He was only halfway in but it was still enough to leave her keening.
“You can take more of me, can’t you girl? You can take all of me if ya want to,” his voice was a rumble.
“Mm—can take more promise, boss.”
That was all it took before his hand raised her leg until it was propped on the countertop. Pulling his cock out he lined himself up with her heat again. It took everything in him not to thrust all the way in the second he felt her wetness coat his cock. “Sweet Lord..” he muttered as he slowly sank into her until he bottomed out.
“Shit..John, need more. Fuck me,” her words direct while she arched her back.
“Yes ma’am,” the roughness in his voice a reflection of his current state. The moment he got the okay he pulled out until only the tip was inside before he slammed back inside. His hands moved up the front of her body rubbing and pulling her nipples. Each sound she made was like heaven to him. She wasn’t shy that much was evident due to where they were.
Bucking his hips forward he buried his face against the side of her neck. His lips left kisses as he whispered praise to her. His words fed a primal urge inside of her, “Always fuck me so good…love your fucking cock.”
If it wasn’t for him holding her up she would have collapsed from his spurt of energy. Her words seemed to do the trick as his thrusts became faster in pace and rougher in intensity. Her grip on the counter loosened up some when she felt his tip hit her cervix repeatedly. The action causes her to clamp around him trying to milk him early.
“Like that, love how you feel inside of me,” she babbled. The words flowing from her lips slowly became nonsensical as she felt him stretch her out due to his size. It was more than enough leaving her stuffed as he grabbed her arms. A gasp left her lips as he held her arms behind her back. Each time he thrusted her body would jerk back and forth. She felt like a toy for his use as he didn’t hold back.
Closing her eyes she let out a loud moan, “‘m so close..please John needa cum. Wanna cum on your cock please,” she felt ready to burst. The warmth pooling in her lower stomach made that clear.
Grunting John leaned forward his lips near her ear, “cum then darling, make a mess on my cock for me.”
His words were her downfall as she came undone right away. All he gave her was a few seconds before he was thrusting into her again. She was still riding out her orgasm as he prepared to send her into another one. “Good girl, such a good girl for me.”
“Always, boss.”
The nickname had more of an effect on him than he would like to admit. Pulling her flush against his chest he grabbed her by the thighs. Holding her legs wide open he thrusted up into her. The sight of her gushing pussy with his cock moving in and out was on display to their invisible audience. “Oh…fuck..” she let out as her fingers moved down to her pussy as she rubbed her clit. Her fingers fast as she heard him shudder. She knew he was close it was all in the lazy strokes and his heavy breathing.
Her breathing hitched as she felt his cock pride at her spot before he came inside of her. A guttural moan left his throat at the same time that she let out a cry. Her fingers still rubbing her clit as she squirted coating her fingers and his cock in her juices.
“Fuck, that was hot.”
Looking up she noticed Gaz the man had a grin on his face. The look of lust in his eyes didn’t go unnoticed by either of them.
“Am I late? Don’t tell me you forgot about me,” he asked a small pout playing at his lips.
Smiling at him she shakes her head, “never we’re just getting started.”
Her throat flexed as she took Gaz’s cock down her throat. Though he was slightly smaller in girth compared to John he made up for it in length. His hands rest on either side of her head holding her in place as he thrusted in and out of her mouth. His cock disappeared behind her lips as he watched with bated breath.
A moan ripped from her throat vibrating against his cock. His hands twitched as he groaned from the feeling. The reason behind her moans was John whose head was between her thighs. His tongue lapped at her folds sucking on the glistening skin.
Her fingers lace in his hair as he raises her hips while his tongue licks from top to bottom. Looking up at Gaz she kept her eyes on his face. His closed eyes, knit brows, and parted lips that released a sound with each thrust. Using her free hand she raises it past his length to cradle his balls. She knew her men inside and out when it came to their spots and their weaknesses. Her thumb gently runs along his balls evoking a loud groan from him. A gasp left her own lips when John’s tongue flicked her clit.
It was hard to focus as her hand continued to gently stroke and rub his balls. Her other hand twitched as she kept a loose grip on John’s hair. She took note of the signs as Gaz seemed to move slower his hips stuttering with each thrust. Slowly but surely she was coaxing his release out of him. It was in the way her hand caressed his balls and how she would bob her head forward gagging on his cock. In that same way, John’s skillful attack on her swollen cunt was leading her into another orgasm.
“Shit baby,” Gaz said as his hand rested on her throat feeling as his cock would reach the back of her throat. He was over with the second he felt it, her little noises didn’t help either. Keeping his hand on her throat he tossed his head back cumming down her throat.
She was swallowing as her eyebrows furrowed when her own orgasm came. Her thighs shook as she came with John holding her firmly in place. Even as her hips rocked forward he didn’t let up until he raised his head. Her eyes focused on him as he swallowed with a cheeky smile. The pounding in her heart was hard as she watched him move away. It allowed her to sit up a bit when Gaz finally removed his cock from her mouth. Leaning up on her knees she wipes the drool from her chin.
With the help of Gaz, she got down from the bar counter standing on her feet. The ache between her thighs filled her with a rush of adrenaline. “I think we should take this upstairs, loves…I’m sure we can find use of that shower.”
A chuckle left John as he nodded, “I like the sound of that, darling.”
Pulling her close to his side Gaz smiles, “I’m not complaining. Need to see if you can take two like Soap said.”
“I can promise you, I can take more than two,” she said with a wink before sauntering away. The two men weren’t far behind ready to try a few more things before the day ended.
#poly!reader#x reader#poly fanfic#poly 141#poly!cod#captain price smut#john price smut#john price x reader#john price#gaz x reader#kyle gaz garrick#gaz smut#kyle garrick smut#kyle garrick#cod smut#task force 141#141 task force#task force 141 smut#smut#18+ content#18+ post#cod au
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OH BOY- 😅 ITS BRINK UPDATE TIME
So um… it’s reached that point where every few months I redetermine when I think the Brink series will actually end.
And I’ve sort of reached an uncomfortable position of… I don’t really know? One of my biggest fears I had when writing this series early on was that this silly little fanfiction would still being the main thing I’m writing/working on, even long after Fable SMP is finished, and with the finale rapidly approaching, and the fact that I’m barely through the 3rd book out of 4 (not to mention still trying to edit books 1 and 2) that’s becoming more and more of a certain scenario.
I suppose, in the end, I’ve settled on a compromise with myself, of sorts?
I am going to keep writing Brink for as long as it takes to tell that story, and to tell it well. Maybe it’s a touch of the gamblers fallacy, but… I’ve spent so much time on this fic series now, I don’t want to force myself to race to the finish line? I want to take my time, and handle something which, as silly as it sounds, has become very special to me, with the care it deserves.
And I suppose I can only hope that, moving forwards, even after Fable is over those who have enjoyed reading Brink will still enjoy reading it, and will want to see that story finished as much as I do. I cannot express how much I am grateful for the support on those fics from absolutely everyone, and it feels like a disservice to that support to not take my time finishing the series properly, even if it takes a while.
With that being said, I do hope that at least in some form, the series will be done by if not the end of 2024, then by this time next year. Not a promise, but an ideal scenario.
Anyway, all that being said, if anyone is interested, here are some updates on how Brink is coming along:
The physical printable/bindable copy of Brink should be made available to download fully edited by the end of April.
Likewise, the Brink Audiobook should be completed by the end of April (I’m in the final run of editing now).
The Edge audiobook is in production! Chapters will begin releasing as soon as the Brink audiobook concludes, however there will likely be a short hiatus afterwards
Likewise, audiobooks of the short stories are in production!
Edge and Border are currently in the middle of a major editing rehaul, for a lot of reasons. It is sadly going to take a while. Hopefully, however, by the end, they will be cleaner, more compelling stories.
Border is not technically on hiatus, as I’m still working on chapters, but it is certainly delayed while previous books/chapters are edited.
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Hi, I love your stories so much ❤️ I am so happy that you are taking requests 😊
Can I please request Aemond x sister reader, where she comes to him, asking him if he can teach her how to please man? She likes someone and she wants to be able to give him a good blow/hand job 😏😏
In the end Aemond finds out that he is the guy she likes 😏
A/N: I loved this one. So sorry this took me so long to write. But I hope you like it. I haven’t fully edited it because I’m quite busy so sorry for any mistakes. And thank you for the lovely comment.
As usual my works are not for minors so Minors DNI.
Warnings: Smut. Oral (M recieving.)
Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Targaryen!Reader ( sister) Word Count: 2.1k+
You had never understood men's need for more than one women. Your eldest brother Aegon was always finding himself in the whore houses on flea bottom or with numerous servants in his rooms. At first you had questioned this with a distinct distaste but from hearing the gossip of knights and servants, you found out soon enough that most men (especially lords and princes) were exactly like this.
While you had of rumours about many of the lords that visited Kings Landing, you had never once heard about your beloved Aemond. But surely your brother must of got the same urges as all of the other men.
Eventually, you found yourself thinking about this on many occasions. The thought of him seeking pleasure made a wetness leak from your cunt. You'd find yourself squeezing your legs as you thought about this trying to release some sort of tension. It was sort of becoming a problem as you stared at him every time you were together; enjoying evening meals with your family, watching him train with Ser Criston, reading with him during library sessions....
Or even now as he sat opposite you across the table in the gardens.
Aemond's sharp jaw was turned away from you as he glared towards the distance. Even in anger he looked completely divine a true Targaryen God.
Everyone knew Aemond hated these tedious tea dates especially when Halaena all but forgot about them as soon as she found something more interesting on the grass. However, Aemond didn't want to upset any of the women in his life so he'd stay in the gardens to make Halaena happy.
"You're staring at me," Aemond tutted, pursing his lips still looking at your sister.
"I'm not-"
"Don't lie to me, Y/N," he told you, snapping his head around to look at you now. "You know you can't lie to me."
"I was thinking..." you started to say, looking away from him now. Your hand rested against the top of your chest as you stroked the skin there. "... about how married men feel the need to be with other women that aren't there wives. Why is this?"
Oh how innocent you were as your eyes finally met him. The little curious cat that had been shielded away from these things for far too long.
His eyebrow peaked up in genuine interest as he gazed at you. "Many ladies won't pleasure a lord the way a commoner would. There are things- let's just say that whores would be more willing to do then a lady would do."
"But surely if it makes their husbands happy a lady would be willing to do it?" You questioned, squinting your eyes at him.
Nothing fell from his lips for an intense few seconds. Your eyes begun to wonder along his body unable to stop the thoughts of how you'd beg to please Aemond.
"Not all ladies are that interested in their husband's happiness," Aemond answered you, watching your face intently to gather your reactions. Maybe coming for some afternoon tea wasn't so bad after all.
"When I'm married, I'd want to please my husband."
His jaw clenched at the thought. He had argued with his mother for so long from allowing you to marry. His sweet sister to be taken from his side. The only person you should be allowed to marry was him. To think you'd so easily please any man that was your husband.
"Well you're not married," Aemond snapped, looking away from you now.
How he easily he had been angered by the conversation. You knew it to be inappropriate but you hadn't think him to get so angry. But you had already started the conversation now, what was the point in backing away.
"But I could learn before I-"
Aemond was quick to cut you off, "I will cut the hand of any man that dares to lay a hand on you in that way."
"What if that man was you?"
The question lingered in the air leaving Aemond completely silent. He turned to look at you and his fingers twitched slightly as if to stop himself from pulling you onto him.
"Ser Criston tells me that mother wishes to see you Aemond and for me and Y/N to be escorted to our chambers," Halaena suddenly said breaking the silence. She was right as a few knights stood waiting to escort you to the side.
Aemond practically leaped from his seat as he strode back into the castle without another word.
__
Thoughts had clouded your mind since leaving the gardens. You didn't know how far you had truly taken things. Aemond had left without a word and when it reached evening meal times he still didn't speak to you. However, he continued to stare at you intently from across the table sitting as far away from you as possible. Had what you said really been that awful that he couldn't sit next to you like he normally did.
When you walked to your chambers that night, you genuinely thought of sprinting to Aemond's to apologise. But you knew your guard wouldn't allow it at this sort of hour. It was no use.
Instead you were glad for the servants to leave as soon as they changed you into your night gown. You decided to take a moment to stare out at the window to gather your thoughts. Your mind raced as you thought of how you could apologise to your brother.
Suddenly, a hand reached around your mouth and an arm snaked around your waist as it pulled you into a firm chest. You struggled against it's your elbows flung against and you screamed into the hand.
"Shhh it's me," Aemond's gentle voice whispered into you ear.
Immediately you relaxed into him and his hand slipped away from your mouth. However, he did not remove his arm as he kept you flush against his back. Your head twisted around to get a good look of him.
"What are you doing here?" You whispered glaring at him.
You wanted to pretend angry and shocked at his actions. However, the more you spent in his presence the more you felt yourself at ease.
His lips lifted into handsome smirk of his as he gazed down at you. "If I recall, you wanted me to teach you something."
"I've changed my mind." You shook your head and tried to pull away from his grip.
He pulled you in tighter allowing you to feel his hardened member that was poking your back side. You gasped lightly, your cunt already growing wet from the feeling.
Aemond couldn't help himself as you stated up at with that innocent doe eyed look. Your mouth slightly open leaving him easy access to slip his tongue as he kissed you. You were quick to reciprocate allowing him take the lead completely.
His hands wondered down your body. One hand groped at your tits while the other hand gripped tightly against your hip as he kept himself pressed against you.
"Aemond," you whined into his mouth.
He pressed gentle kisses against your face as he moved towards you ear. "I need to know why do you want to learn how to please a man?" Aemond hissed, his hand moving to your throat. He squeezed slightly as if warning you to be careful with your answer. "Is there someone that I should know about, sister?"
"If I'm being honest there is someone."
His hand tightened around your throat as he glared down at you.
"Are you jealous, brother?" You questioned, grinding yourself against him.
His grip loosened slightly as he hissed in delight.
You turned your body to press your chest against his pushing him gently till he came in contact with your bed. He sat down allowing you to direct him into his position. You dropped to your knees in front of him, a position he'd have you in sooner if you had allowed him.
"So will you teach me, brother?" You asked, staring up at him with a pout.
He hummed as he reached his hand down to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing your lips. You smiled as he slipped his thumb in, sucking it and taking it out with one loud pop.
"You seem to know a thing or two," he stated, taking your chin in his hands. He squinted his eyes at you. "Don't you, sister?"
"Only from what I heard from the servants," you admitted, your hands now wondering up his thighs. "I want to know more. I want to know how to pleasure a man the way that you would like."
"Every man is different," he told you, his hand running through your hair. "Your husband may enjoy different things than me."
"Not if you are my husband."
His eyes darkened as one of your hand stroked over his crotch and rested their. You could feel the hardened member and couldn't help but lick your lips as you looked up at him.
"See how hard you make me," Aemond confessed, pressing himself up against your hand.
Your hand slid against the fabric over his cock as you felt yourself dripping now from your core. Your nipples had pebbled from your deep arousal at the mere sight of him. You could only imagine how your body would react at the sight of him being truly pleasured by you.
"I want to see it, please," you begged, trying to work the ties of his trousers.
He helped you, loosening the ties and slipping the trousers down to his knees. His cock spring free hitting his torso as it leaked with precum.
Your mouth salivated as you stared at it unable to stop yourself as you tongue came out lick up his shaft. You gave soft kitten licks to the head making sure to take all the precum enjoying the salty taste.
“Wrap one of your hands-” he takes your hand curling it around his cock as he guides you “-around like that and go up and d- just like that.”
You stroked the length of his cock slowly taking your time. His hand weaved into your hair gripping onto it harshly. You watched him intently as you quickened his pace.
“Gods just like that,” he groaned his head falling back. His eyes were dilated screaming with dark lust.
You licked the head again as you noticed pre cum leaking from it.
“Open your mouth for me,” Aemond demanded, pulling your head back. You opened your mouth for him as wide as you could. “Good, just like that.”
He positioned your head over his cock and slid your mouth over it. You took the initiative wrapping your lips around him as you sucked on it. You looked up at him as you bobbed your head only to see his eyes roll back in pleasure. He tried to fight it to watch you, watch how well you took his cock, how you wanted him to feel good.
Your hand continued to pump the part you couldn’t fit into your mouth. You tried to take more as you allowed him to slip down your throat until he hit the back.
He was completely enamoured with you as he watched what you were doing, unable to hold back his moans as they filled the room.
Aemond started getting carried away as he started to rock his hips back and forth quickening the pace even more. “Fuck, Y/N.”
All of sudden you felt hot liquid coating your mouth and hitting the back of your throat. Aemond kept your held still as he pumped himself in and out your mouth. Eventually he released your head allowing you back up.
“Swallow for me,” Aemond told you.
Some of his cum spilled out of your mouth but you swallowed licking around your mouth not to waste a drop.
“Was that good?” You questioned, looking back up at him.
“No,” he teased, smirking as he pulled you up. You crawled onto his lap as you pouted at him. “I don’t think it’d be good enough for any man. So i think we should practice a lot more before you test it out.”
“I think you quite enjoyed it,” you breathed against his lips, kissing him softly. “I think you just want me all to yourself.”
“I never said that,” he mocked, kissing along your chin as he pulled you in.
“I only want you,” you confessed, pulling your head slightly away from him. “I’ve only ever wanted you.”
He smiled as his hand rubbed against your back.
“I feel the same about you sweet sister,” he admitted, pulling you in for an intense kiss. “Maybe I could teach you a few more things tonight.”
Tag list:
@ophelialaufey
@whatever-comes-to-me
@cl-0-vr
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the ghost and the flower | 🔞
; optional male lead smut | ☁️
a/n: so this story is inspired by Simon “Ghost” Riley, but it’s not ACTUALLY him obviously because I write optional main character stories so you can picture anyone, and this plot wouldn’t make sense for his character anyway (but i’m the writer i make the rules lol). It’s easy to picture him if you want, but you can picture someone else, too. Just keep note this story is about a big, strong special ops soldier with a monster dick (because I wanted to write about a monster dick) so yeah :’)
w: enemies to lovers, they hate each other and fight a lot, minor primal play kink, major mask kink LOL, a little bit of military/special ops talk (i don’t know shit about military rankings but i did my best hehe), mention of guns and knives, controlling mmc, a little possessive, a little jealousy, unprotected sex, alcohol and being under the influence, lots of dirty things done in a mask and gloves... oh and this story is 20k words lol
[. playlist for story that helped me write .]
*
“I want you to know how much I hate this.” Your eyes narrow as you stare down your father’s expression, serious as ever, hoping he’s joking when he says the military brute standing next to you is in charge of you until further notice. Your father, the commander, remains stoic behind his office desk. “This has got to be a joke…”
You side eye your supposed bodyguard as he towers over you. He doesn’t look your way or even pretend to care about the situation. Not like it would matter considering you can’t even see his face or body in the protective gear he adorns. A balaclava mask covers everything on his face but his eyes, a white painted skull covering most of the fabric. The hood over his head hides his hair and ears, the rest of him covered by all black tactical equipment, but it doesn’t hide the fact that he's definitely strong, and big, and a little scary.
“No joke, sweetheart,” your father sighs, and you turn your attention back to him. “You know with my line of work and the investigations I do things can get risky for you. This is my only choice until we wrap up this case. Now that’s all I’m going to say about it. The lieutenant here is going to keep you out of harm’s way. That’s all.”
“Ugh,” you stomp your foot and huff. “And with my line of work, I have to travel all over the world at a moment’s notice so tell me how I can do that with this…”
You turn to the intimidating Lieutenant next to you, finally seeing his eyes peer down at you. He says not a word.
“...man hovering over me?” His cheek puffs out a little, as if he’s smirking under that creepy skull mask of his. You don’t have time to think anything of it. Not with the rage coursing through you. You’ve worked so hard to become the pop artist you are today. You’ve just released one of the best selling records in your country. You have a tour to plan, TV shows to appear on, interviews, fan meetings. Not to mention rehearsals and vocal practice. You can’t hide away just because your father decided to make his career out of taking down the worst criminals in the world. “I don’t need protection. I need to make music and meet with my fans. That’s all I’ve ever cared about.”
"Your little music thing can wait, alright?" Your father dismisses you like he always has. You know he's never cared much for your music, too busy catching the bad guys. He's never been to a concert because he's always in another country. Maybe he's never even listened to a song you wrote, but he definitely makes time to scoff at the outfits you've planned out or the current actor or singer you're having a night out with.
"My little music thing?" His words cut you deep even though you should be used to it by now.
“Commander….” The brute finally speaks, his deep voice taking you by surprise at your attention jerks toward him. “Am I really suited for this? No disrespect, but aren’t I a little… overqualified to be some pop star’s bodyguard?”
“Ugh!” Your eyes narrow, but neither man pays you any attention. "He doesn't even want to be doing this! Can't I just hire a team like a normal celebrity?" You grow more offended by the second. Heat practically radiates off your body at the two of them disregarding you.
“You know why you’re in this position Lieutenant.” Your father’s voice grows stern, disappointed even. He pays no mind to your offer of hiring your own bodyguards. At least this way you would have more control. “Allow me to remind you of the last mission you went off schedule for just because of that damn temper of yours.”
“I had a hunch.”
“You have anger inside you and you needed someone to take it out on.” Your father slams his fist on his desk, rattling the pens and causing a picture of you when you were younger to fall to the side. You jump back, but the soldier next to you doesn't move an inch. Maybe he's used to your father's outbursts. “You risked everyone on your team. So now this is your task until further notice. Keep my daughter safe. No one lays a hand on her. She will be under your strict supervision. Got it?”
It takes a full ten seconds before another word is spoken. You see the Lieutenant's jaw tighten under the mask. Then the tension leaves his body. “Affirmative, commander.”
***
The reality still hasn't sunk in yet on the way to your place. Your father insisted his duties begin immediately. Now he steers a borrowed SUV with the windows blacked out for extra protection after putting your address into the GPS. Clearly the soldier has done his research on you. Maybe he was only at the meeting with your father to try to convince him this is a terrible idea. You wish he would have tried harder. You don't need protection. You need to live your life. How can you do that with this stranger watching you at all times?
"What's with the mask?" You question while in the passenger seat scrolling through your phone. "What happened at your last mission? Why did you freak out?" You don't want to sound too interested in him, but you're annoyed at the fact you have to even be near him. You don't know him, can't even see his face. All you know he's a big, strong soldier with anger issues. Did your father really think this through?
"That's classified." His short reply in a deep, yet aggravated and cold tone makes you roll your eyes.
"Classified?" You set your phone down in your lap and shake your head. "What is? The mask thing or the mission thing?"
"Both." You grow more irritated every time he speaks.
"Do you always talk to women like this?" You narrow your eyes as you ask, looking at him finally. He keeps his focus on the road. If you weren't asking questions, he would probably forget you were there.
"You're not a woman to me, you're a mission," He says, sending a wave of anger through your body to fill your chest. "Best to remember that."
"So unbelievably charming," you retort with a huff. "I bet the ladies are lining up for a chance with you."
You want to get under his skin as much as he's getting under your own, but he doesn't so much as roll an eye or huff a breath. He doesn't care at all. Maybe he thinks if he stays quiet long enough you'll just disappear.
"Not much of a talker, huh?" You ask, turning in your seat to look, hoping he would at least glance your way. "Or is that not part of the mission?"
Finally his eyes meet your own for a split second. Then back to the road. It's clear he's not going to respond. It’s a long enough glance to see something deeper there. It’s not that he’s annoyed, or you’re getting under his skin. He looks faraway. Lost and lonely.
No, no, that's crazy. You’re not going to instantly feel sorry for him. Not after being forced into this situation.
This is going to be so fun, you think.
When the two of you arrive at the parking garage to your condo, he grabs a bag out of the back of the SUV while you grab your things upfront.
"Pack lightly, Lieutenant?" You tease with a bitter edge to your tone. You aren't sure why every second being around him makes you want to make every second of his miserable. Maybe to make him drop his mission and you altogether.
"I have what I need," is all he says as he reaches to close the back door. When he does, his leather jacket rises for you to see the gun in its holster at his waist.
"Wait, you can't bring that thing in my home!" You step closer, pointing at his waist.
"What?" He freezes, then looks down to where you're pointing and back up. "My gun or something else?"
If you were in any other situation you would appreciate a good dick joke, but it only makes you angry again. You’re aware he’s probably not even joking. He just wants to piss you off.
"The gun, obviously," you reply with a tightened jaw. "That's dangerous. What if it goes off? What if—"
"Trust me," He interrupts, stepping forward to where you have to look up to match his eyes, "I know what I'm doing. You don't have to worry about that, sweetheart."
For a split-second your breath becomes trapped in your throat. He's bigger than you realized earlier. He's hovering over you. He's calling you pet names you would normally find charming or cute. Coming from him it sounds like a promise and a threat. You can't explain the pressure in your chest or the shaking in your knees in the moment, so you blink a few times to rid yourself of any oncoming thoughts about what he just said.
"I don't trust you," you whisper. His eyes flinch for a moment. Is he actually surprised by that? How could you trust a stranger?
He says nothing, but he doesn't back down, so you do it for him and turn on your heel. Together the two of you make it up to your condo. You take your shoes off at the front door, looking down at his big, black boots hoping he will do the same. He doesn't make an attempt at all. You'll be mopping your floors in no time. Another thing to annoy you.
"Here's your room." You guide him toward the back of the condo, past the spacious kitchen and connecting living room, and even the guest bathroom to reach a smaller bedroom. There's only a full size bed on the far wall. A dresser you didn't want, but didn't want to get rid of, and a closet on the opposite wall. You didn't bother decorating or adding your personal touch when you just bought the place and haven't been home much considering your schedules. "Hopefully the bed isn't too small," you say, before turning to walk away, but you stop.
"Problem?" he asks, tossing his bag on the bed and not even bothering to look at you.
"Are you going to be with me all the time?"
He says yes without hesitation.
"My schedules? Meetings with my team?"
He turns around to look at you. "Yes."
"When I'm sleeping?" Your heart begins to race.
"If I need to."
"When I'm showering?" Warmth begins to swirl in your stomach.
Behind the balaclava, you notice his brow raise. "Are you asking or hoping?"
You narrow your eyes. "I, w… ugh!"
Good one, you think as you turn around and storm off. This is going to be a nightmare.
***
Having the soldier in your house is even more awkward than you imagined. He's always lurking around you, answering phone calls with code names and keywords you don't get, and flipping through folders of what you assume to be other cases while keeping his eyes on you. If you're in your music studio that was once a small office from the previous owners of the condo, he's sitting by the door while you scribble in your notebooks while sitting at a piano and recording voice memos of melodies you don't want to forget. You notice his eyes on you every time the sweet and soft humming fills the room. It's hard not to feel hot beneath his gaze. He's still so intimidating, but hopefully you've shown him you can stand up to him and refuse to be a helpless little girl that needs protecting. It’s all so ridiculous, anyway.
When you're on the phone with your assistant Marjorie, he keeps his ear trained on your words and eyes focused on you. You give him as many dirty looks as you can, but he doesn't seem fazed. It's clear he takes his mission seriously. Then the thought of you only being a mission gets to you and annoys you all over again. How could your father put you in this position? He’s never cared about it with his job before, but you quickly make the connection that the more your career takes off, the more eyes will be on you. Even those eyes of dangerous men that can link you to your father.
Still, you think it’s all so unnecessary. You’re a private person for the most part. How would dangerous men even know where to find you?
You roll your eyes and shake your head of useless thoughts, not wanting to be late for your date that night with Elijah. You’ve been seeing him for a few months casually, but lately have grown to really, really like him, and soon you know the tabloids will be buzzing with the rumors of the two of you being an item.
At least, that’s what he’s mentioned to you from time to time. He’s a music producer that landed a highly valued position at his father’s record label early on. Safe to say, he’s a big deal, and handsome as hell. You don’t care about how this could affect your career either way. You just enjoy being with him.
You put the finishing touches on your make-up and slip on your black dress before making your way to your front door to grab your purse and heels.
However, the Lieutenant is there in a flash right along with you. He’s staring down at you behind his mask, but you can see his brow raised.
“Going somewhere?”
“Yes, actually,” you reply, not even bothering to look at him again while slipping your heels on. “I have a date. Now, if you’ll excuse me—”
“A date? You should have told me. I’d wear something more appropriate.”
You stop in an instant. There’s no way this man thinks he’s going to accompany you on a date like a parent. You turn to look at him, seeing him in a thin black t-shirt to match his cargo pants and boots, but now you notice one strong, tattooed arm folding across his chest with the other.
“Um, no! No way!” You shake your head and toss your hands in the air. “I don’t need protection while on a date. It’s personal and plus, Elijah will be there!” No, of course Elijah isn’t as big and scary as the Lieutenant, and obviously doesn’t have the combat training, but he would still protect you. You hope so, anyway.
“Who the fuck is Elijah? Any my mission—”
“Yeah, I know I’m just a mission to you, but you can’t possibly think I can show up to a date with someone like you and expect him to be okay with it.”
“Don’t give a fuck what he’s okay with. My job is to keep my eye on you. So either we’re going on this date with loverboy together, or you’re not going at all.” He steps closer, looking down at you as if to make his point more clear.
Heat burns inside of your chest, raging with your jaw clenched at how impossible this man was being. “I don’t have to listen to you. I don’t care what your mission is!”
“That may be so, sweetheart, but I will do my job whether you want me to or not.”
“Why? Because my father says so?” You narrow your eyes, stepping to him to show you aren’t afraid and you can take the challenge. “Are you really that much of a lapdog? My father says jump and you say how high? Is that what all you brainwashed stupid special ops soldiers do?”
He doesn’t say a word. You grow even more angry. You don’t even mean the things you tell him. You just want him to get as upset as he’s making you. There’s no way you can bring him to the date, and you don’t want to cancel on Elijah. He’s been out of town and you haven’t seen him in weeks. You certainly just can’t ask him to come here with the Lieutenant lurking in every corner of the room you’re in. What would he think? He’d certainly be jealous, knowing the Lieutenant is bigger, stronger, scarier… more intimating…
No, you tell yourself. What are you even thinking?
“Fine,” you whisper, clenching your jaw before finally tearing your gaze away. “I won’t go.”
You can’t believe your life has come to this…
***
“Sweetie, I have some bad news.”
Your assistant Marjorie unexpectedly shows up at your home the next day. She looks stressed. Her brown hair in messy curls around her face. The glasses on her eyes a little crooked. There’s bags under them, too. She’s clutching a folder full of papers to her chest.
“I’ve been working with the publicist since early this morning. Did, uh, something happen with Elijah?”
You frown as you let her in, stepping to the side and closing the door behind her. “What’s wrong?” Together, you make your way to your living room as she spreads the papers across the coffee table. Neither of you even noticed him sitting there, arms crossed, brow raised as he stares at the two of you. He looks over Marjorie and isn’t concerned in the slightest with her. Obviously she’s not a threat so he doesn’t even more, or make an attempt to speak.
However, the moment Marjorie spots him, she lets out a little shriek and jumps back, placing a hand on her chest. “Who—” She gives you a concerned look before she eyes the big guy out of the corner of her eye. “—is that?” Her voice trembles. It’s clear he’s intimidated her at first glance. You understand completely. If you weren’t so angry at your situation, you would feel the same.
“Sorry, I should have told you.” You place a hand on her arm to sit down on the couch with her. He still doesn’t speak even though it’s obvious to him she’s scared. “It… has to do with my father.”
That’s all that needs to be said. She knows your story. Knows you grew up around a commander that spent more of his life on work than spending time with his daughter, leaving you to be with nannies and play with maids. She knows all about the line of work he’s in, but you’ve always told her it doesn’t matter to you. It will never interfere with your dream… until now.
“I see,” is all she says. She gulps and smooths her hands over your skirt while straightening her back.
“What is the bad news, Marjorie? And what about Elijah?” You sneak a side glance at him while you ask. He seems more attentive now that your soon-to-be boyfriend’s name was mentioned.
“Well, I don’t know how to tell you this, hon’.” She opens the folder with all the papers. “I’m sorry. I know you really liked him.”
You glance down at the mock-ups of soon-to-be published articles across the table. Articles showing pictures of Elijah out with someone else. Headlines saying you are old news to the famous producer. A quote describing how Elijah working with you won’t be in his future. He’s just not much of a fan of your music, anyway. The text plastered over the image of him with an arm around a model’s waist. The same model that is friends with pop stars more popular than you. Of course he was only thinking about a paycheck.
“I was working so hard to not get them published. They were demanding outrageous things of you in return to not run the story. They wanted to know more about your father and family history in an exclusive interview. I knew you couldn’t do that…”
“No…” Your heart sinks. A heaviness settles in its place. You really did like ELijah. He told you plenty of times how much he loves your music and wants to work with you on your next project. How quickly men change their mind when it benefits them.
You look over to the Lieutenant as Marjorie goes on about things you can do to make you look better in this situation. You don’t listen. You focus on his eyes reading the headlines before they rise to meet your own. You want to blame him and be angry at him, but your heart hurts too much in the moment for anything else.
It’s not really his fault, you realize. Elijah is clearly a snake and dates whoever helps his career. You would have found that out eventually.
“But don’t worry,” Marjorie interrupts your thoughts. “You still have the award nominations coming up. A tour to plan. Fan meetings and interviews. Don’t let this get you down, sweetie.”
“I guess so,” you reply, taking a deep breath and a slow exhale. Why do you feel like crying? He wasn’t even your boyfriend, yet. Though, it doesn’t feel good to be pushed aside so quickly. For once you would love to actually be important to someone…
“So, let’s talk tour…”
Marjorie pulls a tablet out of her bag and quickly skims through possible costume designs and sets for your upcoming tour. You’re barely paying attention. You try to look over all the glittery designs and expensive props your label wants to use. She tells you they’re looking for stadiums to book across the country, but you can hardly be excited about this being your biggest tour yet. You’re barely paying attention, hurt bubbling inside of you, mixing with anger as the realization you were cast aside sets in. How could he?
Your attention is quickly drawn to the other side of the room as the impossibly silent shadow of a Lieutenant finally makes a noise. He sighs… long and drawn out… like a ghost just always lurking until he wants himself to be heard.
“Are you bored?” you ask, narrowing your eyes. “You know you don’t have to sit here, right? You can fuck right off somewhere else.” You speak with more venom in the words than you actually mean. Maybe you’re just redirecting your hurt and anger to someone that can take it, because he doesn’t care about you either.
“Oh, sorry, pop princess,” he remarks, leaning forward with his elbows on his thighs. Marjorie jerks her head up to look at him, eyes going wide. Your nostrils flare at his words. “Can’t help it I’m not into this little flowery, pretty music and glittery Barbie outfits with all the flowery shit on them.”
What he says makes you rage. You’ve never wanted to slap someone more. “Right, you’re into fighting and being a fucking dick.” Marjorie gasps next to you. You’ve never been so hateful around her. Of course she’s shocked, but you’re pissed. And heartbroken, but the dumb brute doesn’t need to know that. You can give it right back to him. “Maybe you just lack taste.”
His cheek thickens as if he’s smirking beneath the mask. “Trust me, little flower, you’re not my type.”
You huff, opening your mouth to speak some vicious retort, but Marjorie beats you to it.
“Your loss,” she says quietly, looking between the two of you, then down at her lap where the outfits are still on the screen. “She’s amazing, talented, and works so hard. Her… her fans adore her.” Her voice is still shaking, but she wants to stick up for you. The anger settles a little. You know Marjorie will always be on your side, and it makes the situation a little easier to handle.
Then suddenly his little nickname hits you like a ton of bricks. Little flower? Who does he think he is?
“Little flower?” You glare at him, trying not to let the words he says affect you. “Give me a break…”
You roll your eyes and turn your attention back to Marjorie, finally putting your focus on your work and nothing more. You don’t need men distracting you any longer. Your father never caring about your music and still thinking you’re a little girl. Elijah dumping you once he saw a better opportunity for his career. Now this moody, grouchy soldier saying your music is terrible. You don’t need any of it. You’ve worked too hard to let men like them get to you now.
“Show me that super sparkly out fits a few pages back, Marj.”
You won’t be hurt by any of them.
***
“You can wait in the car.”
You hop out of the SUV after he pulls up to your label’s office building. You have too many meetings with execs today, too many things to plan, too much to worry about and the last thing you need is him drawing attention or cutting in with his snarky remarks. This is too important to you to ruin by being distracted and angry.
He follows you just as quickly as you try to outpace him while walking into the building. The girl at the front desk smiles at you before dropping her expression the moment she lays eyes on him. See? Distracting. Annoying. In your way. You don’t need it.
“If I did that, flower, I’d be disregarding my mission, wouldn’t I?” he replies as you stand to wait for the elevator to take you up to the floor where the meetings will be held.
“Oh, like you did last time you went berserk commando and risked your mission to get us both in this situation?” You huff, and you swear you hear him growl beneath the mask. He doesn’t like when you bring up his mistakes. Not at all. You smile to yourself on the inside, until you realize he’s still calling you the dumb little nickname. “And what’s with calling me that? Relax.”
He growls again. Not even trying to hide it. “Trust me, little flower, you would be in this situation regardless, and you’d much rather me than some of the other guys I’ve been with in the field.” You step onto the elevator with him right behind you. You scoff at his response while you start to rise to the top floor.
“Oh, right,” you say, turning to him to glare for a few moments. He doesn’t give you the satisfaction of a glance in return. “Because you’re just so fun to be around.” You’re already in a bad moon. Funny how quickly your day can be ruined by him.
“That’s nice of you to say, flower.” The words rip right through you, sending you from annoyed to angry. It makes it even worse because now there's a hint of humor in his tone. He likes making you this angry. That pisses you off more.
“Sure, because you’re obviously so kind and sweet and caring and compassionate and totally not a pain in my ass,” you say through your teeth just as the elevator dings and the doors open. There stands Marjorie along with the men that are attending your meeting. They’re staring at the two of you. The Lieutenant looks straight ahead, not bothered at all. You’re still glaring at him, hoping to burn a hole straight through his thick skull.
Marjorie clears her throat. Your attention turns toward her, finally realizing the situation. He chuckles softly next to you.
God, do you wish you could disappear.
***
Award season comes around once a year, and this year is the biggest one for you yet. You eagerly wait by your phone for Marjorie to call to give you the news if you’ve been nominated or not, and when she calls to say you’ve been nominated in five categories at the most prestigious award show in your country, you can only scream into the receiver.
As you’re jumping up and down on your bed due to the huge news, screaming in Marjorie’s ear as she screams back due to being so happy your hard work is paying off, the Lieutenant rushes into your room. Suddenly, he grabs your body and pulls you to him, making you drop your phone in the process.
“What’s wrong?” he frantically asks. “Are you okay?”
“What? Yes,” you say, pushing him away and picking up your phone. “Marjorie, let me call you back.” Your voice is full of excitement as you hang up the phone. You can hardly contain yourself. Not even the big soldier can ruin your day today. Finally, the industry is taking note of all your success. Finally it’s all coming together for you.
“Are you sure? You screamed rather loud. I thought someone broke in.” While he speaks, he scans your body over, from head to toe, to make sure you aren’t lying. He even runs his gloves hands along your arms, genuinely looking concerned for your safety as he inspects.
“Yes, I’m fine,” you giggle, suddenly in such a good mood you don’t even want to fight or argue with him. “Sorry, I got some really great news. I need to call my father.” More than anything, you’ve always wanted to call him up with some great news or terrific achievement so he will finally take your career seriously. For so long, you’ve been waiting for this moment. You can hardly contain yourself as you click on your father’s contact to press dial.
The Lieutenant understands, nodding and taking a step back to fold his arms over his chest. He stays put in your bedroom, but you don’t even pay attention to him. You put the phone on speaker while you begin scrolling the news articles already talking about your nominations.
“Hello? Commander speaking.”
“Dad, it’s me,” you laugh, smiling wide to yourself. Of course he's only focusing on work, answering the phone without even looking to see who was calling.
“Everything okay?” He’s speaking in sharp, short words. Quick to get to the point.
“Yes! Everything is great, actually!”
“Good, good. Sweetheart, I’m really busy right now…”
“But dad—”
“Can we talk later?” There’s commotion on the other end, hearing shuffling and mumbled voices. He’s not paying attention to you at all.
“Dad, I got nominated for five awards today and I just—”
“That’s great, sweetheart,” he interrupts. “I really have to get going. Talk soon, okay?”
“Dad—”
The phone hangs up. The excitement drains from your features. You drop your hands in your lap, staring down at his contact picture. Suddenly there’s a heaviness in your chest. It’s tight, gripping hold of your heart. What were you even happy about to begin with? You fight with yourself to keep the tears filling your lids from falling. Blinking, you take a deep breath and close your eyes.
“Five awards, eh?” Suddenly, his voice fills your ears, reminding you he’s still standing there. Great, now you have an audience once again to your heartbreak. Except this time, you have no fight in you at all.
“It’s stupid to care so much…”
“Don’t say that, little flower,” he says, earning your tear-filled eyes on him. “The only awards people like me ever get are ones when we’re already dead. It’s not stupid to be appreciated for working hard. Don’t count yourself short.”
His words take you by surprise. Raising your brows, you chuckle a tired sound and shrug. “Weren’t you just insulting my music?”
“Don’t be like that.” Suddenly, he steps toward you to take a seat on your bed next to you. His weight shifts the mattress. He’s so big next to you like this. “I didn’t really mean what I said, flower. And… I feel bad for saying it. I know you’re angry too about being in this situation. I shouldn’t have dismissed you like that. Plus, I’ve seen the way you’ve handled those bosses in your meetings. You’re tough and you know what you want.”
At that, you release a genuine laugh. “Yeah, I hate being ran over. I want complete creative control. I have a vision, you know?”
“A sparkly one.”
Now you’re giggling. “Yes, that does include sparkles, sometimes.” He chuckles. Genuinely. Your heart feels a little warmer. The heaviness in your chest feels lighter. You realize he’s trying to make you feel better. You appreciate the gesture. “Thanks for trying to cheer me up.”
“Oh, is that what I was doing?” He looks down at you, and you look up at him through your lashes. “I thought we just advanced to a new level of bickering and being annoyed with one another.”
You can’t help but to laugh. You realize he can be kind of sweet if he wants.
“I just want to be taken seriously.” You tell him with a sigh. “My father sees me as a little girl that needs protecting. Elijah saw me as an opportunity for his career. The execs at the label try to make up their mind for me until I stick up for myself. Hell, even you just see me as a mission.”
He blinks a few times, taking in your words. Then he sighs. “I didn’t mean that, either, flower.”
For the first time, you’re glad he’s there with you.
***
Even though you and him shared a sweet moment when you were hurt over your father’s dismissive attitude of you, it still irritates you when you can’t go out and do what you want. You don’t want to be careless, of course, but you just don’t see the need in being watching 24/7 like a hawk.
Especially when you got word Elijah will be attending a party, and you want to show up looking good enough to regret leaving. You have your skin tight, red dress already on, putting the finishing touches on your lipstick as you play in your mind the perfect scenario of him begging for you back. The dress cuts low into your cleavage, and rises high on your thighs. With some killer heels, he’ll be on the floor in no time.
If only there wasn’t a grumpy soldier in the way of you and the front door.
“I don’t care if you have a mission to do,” you tell him as he blocks your way, “this is important to me and I need you to get out of my way. I can’t be a prisoner forever.”
He looks you up and down, spending an extra second on your chest, before meeting your eyes. His gaze makes you hot in the moment, and now you’re unsure if it’s actually anger. “Clearly it’s important, but important or not, flower, I can’t let you out of my sight if you leave this house.” He folds his arms over his chest. “And you’re not a prisoner forever. You’re being guarded until it’s safe for you. That’s all.”
“Well, I feel like a grounded teenager.” You roll your eyes at him, folding your own arms over your chest with your heels in hand.
“Acting like it, too.”
“Fuck you.” Just when you thought the two of you were going to get along, too…
“If that’s what you want, flower.” Without warning, the big brute picks you up with ease and tosses your body over his shoulder.
“Hey, what—” You start kicking and punching his back, but he isn’t fazed at all. “Put me down!” You’re thrashing all over his shoulder, you’re not even paying attention to him bringing you to your bedroom. Without a word, he puts you down on the floor in the middle of the room before backing away.
“Want to act like a spoiled brat, you’ll get treated like it,” is all he says, stepping out of your room and closing the door behind him.
“I’m an adult!” you yell through the door. “A grown woman! I can do what I want!”
Clearly, you can’t. When you try to open the door, it doesn’t even budge an inch in your direction. But clearly he didn’t think this through. You still have your heels in your hand. You can just go out the escape ladder from your window. You sneakily tiptoe towards the window, pushing aside a few bottles of purfume that were resting on a dresser to budge the lock.
However, it doesn’t take long for him to hear you and catch on to what you’re attempting. He is a specially trained operator, after all. He bursts open the door just as you crack the window, barrelling over to you without thinking to grab you by the waist. You release a squeal when he practically tosses your body onto the bed.
Not thinking again, clearly, because now you have an exit through the bedroom door. You make an attempt to scurry across the satin sheets of your bed, but he’s close behind. Another scream echoes into the room as he grips your bare ankle, pulling you back across the bed with ease before you can even think straight. Your heels go flying across the room as he manhandles your body and pulls you all the way to him.
“An adult woman trying to sneak out of her bedroom window?” he asks, mocking you while pressing his body between your thighs, putting weight over you so you can’t escape.
“An adult woman shouldn’t need to,” you correct him. He grabs both wrists, pinning them above your head and pushing himself closer to you. You feel all of him against you. His broad chest pressing into yours heaving from trying to catch your breath. His hard stomach over your body. His hips parting your thighs. Something hard presses against your panties. A shiver races through your body, heat following to fill every inch of skin. “Let. Me. Go.”
“Is my little flower going to behave if I do?” His tone mocks you with the question. You stare into his eyes, the only part of him you can actually see. He stares right into your own, not backing down. You don’t want to back down, either. You're burning hot with rage at the control he’s placed you under. You want to fight him, hit him, yell and scream at him. But your body… your body loves how weak it feels beneath him. You hate it. Hate how much he’s affecting you in the moment. Warmth swells between your thighs. You tremble beneath him. You feel so betrayed by both him and yourself.
“No,” you finally reply, clenching your jaw, narrowing your eyes. If looks could kill…
“Then I can do this all night, flower.” His tone darkens as he draws his face closer. So much closer. The closest to him you’ve been. Your breath catches in your throat. “As long as it takes for you to be a good girl.”
Your eyelids flutter. God, why was his voice suddenly going straight between your thighs? You shudder, knowing you would find your panties wet if you were to look. You’re so hot beneath him. You can’t stand it.
You lick your lips and beg your hips not to roll against him. “Let me go,” you repeat.
He raises a brow beneath that damn mask of his. “Are you going to try to run from me again?”
You know there’s no use fighting him. He’s bigger, stronger, and tougher than you. He made that clear. You don’t want to give in to him. You want to tough this out just to see how long he can last, but you aren’t convinced your body will agree the longer you lay in this position with him.
“Getting all dolled up to go make a boy jealous, huh?” he begins to taunt you again, just to see you worked up. It’s what the two of you do best.
“You don’t know what you’re talking about.” You push yourself against him, your hips bucking into his as you try to yank your hands away from his grip. He only presses into your harder, and you realize yes, he is definitely affected by the position the same way you are. He’s thick and hard and you feel it between your thighs. The fact has you burning up. His body wants you, too, even if his words are vicious.
“You deserve better than to chase some dickhead that can’t see what he has right in front of him.” If you weren’t so angry at him, you would almost be touched. All you see is red in the moment, however. You want to fight him. You want him to feel bad… if his cold heart even can.
“Like you would know,” you spit back. “I’m just a mission to you, remember?”
“I told you I didn’t mean that.”
“Really? You’re sure as hell acting like it.” You struggle again to get loose. He tightens his grip, leaning into your body so his mouth is right next to your ear.
“I have a mission to protect you, flower,” he begins, sending a chill down your spine as he speaks his dark, tempting words, “but believe me, if I didn’t, there’s not a single thing here I wouldn’t worship on you and I’d take nothing for granted. There’d be no mistake you belonged to me.”
With that, he finally releases your body from his hold. He stands straight, peering down at you as if his eyes are promising the things his words said. You quickly straighten out your dress over your thighs as you settle on your knees. For a moment, neither of you speak. Your breath is heavy. There’s tension in his body, tension filling the entire room.
You wait for his next move, not knowing what to do or say or even think. His words caught you off guard. You thought he hated you, and hated being around you. You were surely convinced you hated him in return, but with the way your body reacted, and now your heart drumming away in your chest over what he said, you aren’t sure. Did he really care about you? Did being so close to you have such an effect on him as well?
He says nothing, only turning toward your window to close and lock it in place, before walking toward your door. “Good night, little flower.” Before reaching the hall, he turns to look at you over his shoulder. “I trust you won’t be careless and try to sneak out again. I won’t let you off the hook so easily, next time.”
He leaves, and your body is hot all over again. His words which used to induce rage inside of you now begin to make you quiver. Could you just be taking them the wrong way? Does he really mean the hint of temptation you’re getting from each syllable?
You aren’t sure. All you can do is run to shut your bedroom door before he comes back to drive you crazy once again. Or before you do something stupid, like try to sneak out just to test him because you’re dying to see what he would actually do now. Your body begins to crave it, no matter how much you try to fight the feeling.
What started this all anyway? Finally you remember wanting to make Elijah jealous, but that seems so pointless now. Now all you can think about is what the big, strong Lieutenant would do if you disobeyed him. Something tells you he makes good on his promises, and your body aches at the thought.
Before you can let your thoughts become carried away, you take a hot shower to wash off your makeup and the mistakes you almost made. Maybe all you need is a good night’s sleep. You only hope you can stop thinking about how it felt having his body pressed against you.
***
After that night, you hate how quiet you are around him. Suddenly there’s tension, and not the rage-inducing kind you’ve grown used to. Anytime you look at him, you can’t help but to outline his muscles beneath the thin t-shirt, study his tattoos and veins along each arm, or wonder how good he is with his hands. He tries to ignore you stealing glances at him, not saying much to you, either. You decide it’s better than way. The other night was too risky. The two of you got too close, and it’s clear both of you were reacting in unfamiliar ways.
Later, Marjorie shows up with a team of a few people to bring a wardrobe for an event you’re scheduled to attend. A movie is premiering with your song as the main track on the soundtrack. You know you have to make an appearance, but lately you’re just not up for it, not wanting to explain why you have a masked man watching over your every move, as well as anyone that gets close to you.
“I don’t know, Marjorie,” you tell her, slipping on a glittery, purple dress with a low-cut V-neck and even lower cut in the back. The sleeves are long enough to reach your wrists, and you have to say it’s beautiful. You think you’ve found the one… if you wanted to actually attend. “I’m not up for premieres and parties.”
“Why not? Is it that scary man out there? Did he do something?” She lowers her glasses while narrowing her eyes. She gives an evil look toward the living room where you told him to wait after guiding the team to your bedroom.
“No,” you lie. It is because of him. And all the tension. And the fact that you don’t want anymore negative press about you. The breakup to a non-boyfriend was hard enough on your image. It’s all anyone wanted to talk about. Anything to get their quick clips and quotes for the news. Elijah absolutely embarrassed you.
Then you remember he will be at the event as well. You don’t want to face him now that you’ve had time to think about it. Trying to sneak out and make him jealous was stupid. He’s not worth it.
The grumpy brute was right about that.
“Then what’s the problem?” she asks, flipping through texts on your phone. “Oh, the designer needs to see you in a few photos and selfies if this is the dress you want to wear. Make sure to tag them on your pages.”
You sigh, leaving your bedroom to find where you left your phone to take a few “getting ready with me” selfies. Remembering you were reading more articles about your award nominations earlier while moping on the couch, you find it in the living room where he still sits, looking over documents in a folder spread over the coffee table.
“I feel overwhelmed lately, Marj.” You grab your phone from the couch next to him. “And I don’t know if I want this dress. It’s gorgeous but I don’t feel gorgeous in it.”
“You’re kidding!” she says, then surprisingly, turns to him to get his attention. “Tell her how good she looks!” As if she realizes her sudden bold behavior in talking to him, she withdraws behind you, pushing you closer so he can get a better look.
He scans over your body in the dress. His eyes linger over your chest for a moment, then travel to your hips, and finally your thighs. Then he makes his way back up, so slowly you’re almost dying inside. He’s not answering. Only taking in the sight of you in more sparkly, skin tight, revealing things.
“You look stunning, flower.” His voice is quiet, as if he only wanted you to hear his reply. It’s deep, too, another level of hidden emotions layered within the syllables and it makes your insides quiver.
From behind, Marjorie whispers, “he’s still calling you that?” Then she giggles, and you can’t help but to smile. Heat floods your cheeks. A few weeks ago you would have been annoyed, but now it seems so natural to hear the nickname.
“So, what event are we attending?” he asks, and you want to be annoyed that he will have to be with you, but somehow you can’t find yourself to be irritated. Maybe it’s better he’s there. He could intimidate anyone talking to you in case they want to pry about your relationship failures.
“A movie premiere tonight, then an after party. Are you wearing that?” You surprise him by not making a big deal of the situation. Looking over him, you realize his usual thin tees and military cargo pants with boots won’t cut it at this event. Regardless of his mask, he’ll stick out like a sore thumb.
“Want me to get dressed up for you, flower?” He raises a brow, knowing from his tone he’s smirking beneath the mask.
“Well, you have to be presentable if you’re going to attend with me.”
He nods, as if it’s another mission to him, quickly reaching for his phone to make a few calls. You can’t worry about what he’s doing, however, when you need to get into makeup and hair before the red carpet rolls out. Marjorie rushes you back to your room where the team starts with their brushes and blow dryers, getting you dressed in full glam within an hour and a half.
When you walk out of your room fully dolled up, you notice him waiting on you with a completely different outfit. Still dressed in all black, he adorns a turtleneck and slacks with his mask and boots. The sleeves are rolled up to show off his tattoos, and you’re sure he has weapons hidden somewhere on his body. Maybe those black, leather boots of his. Either way, you decide it’s not bad. You appreciate the attempt he’s made for you.
“You look nice, Lieutenant.”
“Thank you,” he replies in a quiet voice. “You look beautiful.”
Your heart skips a beat. You try to reason with yourself he’s just being nice, but the butterflies in your stomach wish for something more. For once, he’s actually being kind to you. It makes it so much harder to hate the situation you’re in.
“Are you ready to go?” you ask him as your assistant hands you your bag before helping with slipping on your matching heels.
He nods, holding out his arm for you to take. Smiling, you slip your hand around his bicep, resisting the urge to shudder from how hard his body is. It brings up memories from being so close to him a second before heat washes over your entire body.
How are you going to survive the night?
***
The movie premiere is less painful than you imagined. No one asks too many questions on the red carpet other than wanting to know who you were wearing that night. No one questions him, either, assuming he’s just another faceless bodyguard to the rich and famous. You’re thankful for that until you get to the afterparty. It’s not your scene, really, but you know you can make good connections with people in the industry. You mingle a bit with a few different crowds. Another pop artist here and there. Even some producers that worked on the soundtrack of the movie.
You feel a little more relaxed, even with the Lieutenant close by. He never gets in your way, and you appreciate the distance he’s giving you. Maybe it could have been like this the whole time, you think. After all, he just wanted to keep you safe. He’s not hovering over you, or making you uncomfortable. But you catch his eye every now and then. Knowing he’s close by actually comforts you.
The night carries on with you getting a few numbers in your phone with people you want to work with in the future. You make a few promises to get to the studio and record sometime soon, so happy you decided to come out.
Only until a familiar voice pulls your attention away from an intriguing conversation with another up and coming singer.
“What is it, Elijah?” You turn to face him, seeing the singer walk away from the corner of your eye. You hope she doesn’t think you’re rude. Maybe if you post the selfie with her you took, saying how sweet she was, she’ll forgive you.
“Don’t be like that, baby,” he says, words slurring a little. He’s tipsy. He’s always more affectionate when he’s tipsy. “I miss you.”
You frown. “Miss me? Didn’t seem like it with your arm around a model.”
“Oh, that was nothing, baby!” He waves a hand in the air dismissively.
“And when you said you didn’t like my music that much? What was that? You talked pretty quickly to the reporters. Most people didn't even know of our relationship.”
“Tabloids being tabloids! You can’t trust them.” He laughs, wrapping an arm around you to pull you closer. “Let me take you to grab a bite of food. We can catch up, talk this out, alright?”
You roll your eyes, ready to decline when a body presses into you from behind.
“It’s time to go,” the deep, raspy voice of the Lieutenant says. He’s speaking through his teeth. You nod your head, wanting to get away from Elijah and just go home. Your heels hurt and your social energy is completely spent for the night, anyway.
“I have to go, Elijah…”
You try to pull away from him, but Elijah tightens his grip on you. “Who’s this?” He grows defensive. As if he owns you. As if he didn’t break your heart just a few weeks ago.
“Elijah, let me go.”
“No, I want to know—”
He doesn’t get a chance to finish his sentence before the big soldier is stepping to him. “I would back up if I were you.”
“Are you really going to let this guy talk to me like that?” Elijah turns to you as you look between both men. The Lieutenant towers over Elijah, but he’s too tipsy to back down from a fight he obviously wouldn’t win.
“He’s in charge of me,” is all you say, and both men’s attention snap to you. “My safety, I mean. He’s in charge of my safety.” You gulp, heat rushing to your cheeks.
Elijah finally releases the grip he has on you. “Safety? Are you being stalked or something?”
Huffing, you turn to walk away from him. “If you ever cared to get to know me, Elijah, you would know why I need protection.” You can’t even believe you said the words. Never have you admitted that to anyone, but Elijah is pissing you off now. What did you ever see in this guy?
“Hey,” Elijah yells over the music, pride hurt over a sudden rejection he’s not used to. He reaches to grab your wrist, but before anyone can react, the Lieutenant lashes out to grip Elijah’s throat. It happens so fast, like a viper lashing out at prey.
“Touch her again, loverboy, and I promise you that hand will be wishing you hadn’t.”
You’re frozen seeing your almost ex-boyfriend get choked out, struggling to remove himself from such a strong grasp. Eventually, he’s released and you’re being shuffled out of the party before anymore eyes are on the three of you.
On the way home, you’re silent. Your body feels hot. Your head light. What did you just witness? The man next to you showing his power, and while it should scare you just how quickly he put Elijah in his place, your body can’t help but to react. You sneak a glance at him, but you aren’t sure why you’re suddenly so intimidated by him in the best ways. A gloved hand grips the wheel, the muscles on his arms tensing as he drives. He keeps his focus straight. You don’t know if he’s aware of you staring, but now you can’t look away.
His dark, lonely eyes are pinned in the lights ahead. A large, round shoulder hides the bottom of the mask he wears. His turtleneck hugs his chest and stomach tight. Pressing your thighs tight together, your gaze drops to his lap. You remember what it feels like to have him against you. You would be lying if you said you didn’t want to feel it again in the moment.
You’ve never wanted to admit how attracted to him you are, but there’s no denying it now. Not when you’ve seen how strong he is. How powerful. Intimidating, even. You can’t imagine all the dangerous men he’s helped your father take down.
Big, and strong, and quick… and thick. You have to scream at yourself to stop from imagining what he’d feel like inside of you. It’s not right. Between your thighs begs to differ, though. You feel the heat pooling there. You’re wet. You need him. Not want, need.
“Stare any harder, flower, and I’ll have to pull over.” His deep, raspy voice takes you by surprise and pulls your mind from all the naughty things you’ve been thinking. Blinking a few times, you shake your head to focus in on the present.
“P-Pull over?” You gulp, chest rising slowly and falling even slower. God, the things this man does to you.
“The way you’re lookin’ at me is distracting,” he admits. “Not safe for driving.”
“Oh, sorry…”
“Don’t apologize,” he says, turning his head to meet your eyes, “I never said I didn’t like it.”
***
As the days go on, you try to ignore the tension between the two of you. It’s hard to ignore how much your body craves him. What was once honest hatred of this man has turned into lust, and even scarier, you begin to actually care about him.
Whether it meant anything to him or not, he stuck up for you against Elijah. When the rest of the world wanted to gossip and get the latest scoop, he made it clear the only thing he cares about was protecting you.
You try to remember that’s just his mission. You’re a mission to him. Even though he said he didn’t mean it, the fact is true. You can’t let yourself get carried away in fantasies of being with him. It would never work.
You spend your time at home, having enough of being in the public eye. You continue to try to write songs to take your mind off of things. He lingers close by, and even with the tension between the two of you, you find his presence relaxing. You feel safe. Even if it’s not real, you feel protected and cared for. You can let yourself indulge in that feeling for at least a little while. No one has to know your delusions of wanting to be with him. You keep to yourself, minding your business and doing what you do best. Music.
The song writing goes on a little too long one afternoon, realizing you never had lunch or breakfast. When inspiration strikes…
“Are you hungry?” you ask him, realizing you don’t think you’ve ever seen him actually eat. You assume he gets a quick meal here and there when you’re busy with music related things. Your kitchen is stocked, so he has his choice of whatever he wants. Now you feel like take-out, however. “I’m going to order dinner.”
He looks up from another remote case he’s assisting with off-site. “Sure, I can eat.” He grins beneath the mask. You’ve gotten good at spotting it. It makes the butterflies in your stomach go wild.
“Can you even eat in the mask,” you ask, thumbing through your phone to place a quick delivery order for the two of you. You’re only half-joking, but you wonder why he wears it all the time, even when it’s just the two of you.
“I can do a lot of things in this mask, flower.” His tone darkens. A shiver courses through your body, flooding you with goosebumps. Gulping, you try to ignore the words. Just when you think you’re good at pushing away what you’re beginning to feel for him, he pulls you right back in. You wonder if he received some super secret training for that as well.
“Okay, food ordered,” you say, the words trembling from your tongue. He chuckles, enjoying the way he makes you so weak. You thought he only liked making you angry. You realize he just loves any reaction from you whatsoever. “But… really? Can you eat with the mask? Do you ever take it off?” Your voice isn’t full of venom like the first time you asked about it. You find yourself truly wanting to know him better.
“I take it off when I’m alone.”
“Why wear it all the time?” You sit next to him in the living room, scooting closer as he replies.
“To keep my identity a secret. It’s better for missions,” he responds nonchalantly. “No one really wants to know me, anyway, so why take it off? Not the real me, anyway. Just the soldier that follows commands and can kill without thinking. Nothing else matters when you’re in the middle of tracking down dangerous people.”
You take in what he says. It makes sense why there’s longing and loneliness in his eyes. No one knows the real him. Maybe no one has ever cared that he hides himself from the world, but you do.
“I feel the same,” you finally say, reaching to rest your hand on his arm, hoping he will feel your sincerity. With a sigh, you continue. “I mean, with wearing the mask and hiding yourself. It’s like as long as I do what I’m told, everyone is happy. No one cares how I feel. They hate when I want to make my mind up for myself. As if I’m a little girl that never knows what she wants for herself.”
“Well, we both know that’s not true,” he laughs. “You certainly know how to fight for what you want. You showed me that plenty of times.”
You giggle softly, not even thinking anything of it when he removes your hand to place it in his own, giving your palm a squeeze.
“Yeah, I… didn’t mean to be such a bitch to you,” you confess. “I was so angry at my father for deciding what’s best for me. I spent most of my life figuring things out on my own while he was busy with his job. Only for him to come in whenever he wants to say I’m not allowed to do this, or go there, or date this guy. I’m only here to be a burden to him and his career.” Your voice falls as you finish speaking. It’s a weight you’ve carried for so long knowing the one person you wanted most in the world to be proud of you never cared for your choices in life. He’s never taken an interest in your career, and everything you’ve accomplished, you’ve done on your own.
“I’m sorry, flower,” he sighs. “I… didn’t have the best childhood, either. My father wasn’t the nicest to my mother or me. It’s part of the mask thing, you know? Easier to hide myself than deal with no one wanting me around or getting in the way. I’ll leave before getting left.”
Guilt sinks into your heart. He’s felt that way since childhood, and you only furthered the idea by being pissed he was assigned to watch over you.
“I… want you around,” you reply quietly, intertwining your fingers with his gloved hand. He’s so protective of himself while you always wanted to be open and free. The realization hits you hard. The heaviness rises in your throat, burning with guilt for pushing him away so hard at the beginning. “I hope you can see that now.”
“I do, flower.”
Your heart melts in an instant. How could you have hated him for so long? You’re angry at yourself for not giving it a chance and getting to know him.
Before you can reply, there’s a knock on the door with your food delivery. Regretfully, you pull away to answer, grabbing the food and quickly getting back to him. While you’re placing the containers out in front of you on the coffee table, he sneakily pushes his mask up over his mouth and the tip of his nose. You see him out of the corner of your eye, glancing once then staring the second time while handing him his food.
You don’t say a word. All you can do is take in the sight of his mouth, his lips, the tip of his nose. His strong jaw. His smooth skin. You want to reach out and touch him but you’re scared he’ll retreat. You can’t pull your gaze away, taking in the sight of him because you know it’s something he doesn’t show often. Your heart swells, warmth filling your chest. He put so much trust in you to uncover a part of himself he’s kept hidden and secured for so long. You want to cherish the moment for as long as you can while the two of you enjoy dinner together.
***
It’s not often you do favors for people in the industry, but when one of the label execs asked for you to perform at a club his friend owns, you couldn’t turn him down. Not only because it would get you more exposure and in with a particular group of board members of award shows that were closely related, but because you simply love being on stage. The club is prestigious enough that it won’t be a rowdy, wild crowd, and who knows who else could be watching you that night?
Of course, your Lieutenant is close by as you hit the stage. He watches you closely, never taking his eyes off of you while you sing and dance for the crowd, as well as take a few shots to get them hyped up and in the mood. You’re working everyone over by the time the end of your set comes. The audience grows closer to the stage, making it more fun to interact with them.
Still, you keep your attention on him every now and then. He’s in the back of the crowd, but to the side of the stage. He’s laying low, dressed in all black, a hood over his head and his usual skull mask on his face. When the last song comes on, you can’t help locking eyes with him while you sing to the slow, sexy beat about being with a guy in secret. How good it will feel, how fun it would be if no one knew. Just the two of your bodies together even if it’s bad for both of you. He holds your gaze with an intense expression. You can’t look away from him, not for a second. You’re in a trance as your hips sway to the music around the microphone stand. You see him puff out his chest as the muscles in his body tense. He’s just as affected as you.
The set ends and the crowd cheers for you while you wave goodbye, remembering now that there is a crowd and it’s not just him and you in the room. You quickly run off stage to cool off in the back, and it doesn’t take long for him to find you in a lonely hallway.
The music echoes through the walls, but it’s more quiet as the DJ continues to spin top tracks from the charts. Your mind is spinning from the performance and the few shots you had while on stage. You’re not drunk, just a little tipsy, but it doesn’t stop you from running to him with a giddy smile. You’re nearly alone, with a few people passing by — workers clocking in and out, someone taking a selfie down the hall. The only one that matters, however, is him.
“Having fun?” you ask, though you know he’s probably not. You assume he’s not one for these kinds of crowds.
“You know how to work a crowd,” he says, making sure you know for a fact his eyes were on you the entire time.
“Of course, it’s my job!” You giggle. “And I love it. I love performing! I love dancing and I love when people watch me.”
By now, you’re nearly pressed against him. The alcohol is surging through your body. You feel so light. So happy. You decide you love being around him. He’s big and stupid and grumpy, but you love it. You can’t help but to keep giggling.
He stares at you with his head tilted to one side. You laugh even harder a moment before settling.
“Do you like watching me?” you ask, biting your lip after licking them.
He stares into your eyes. Those deep, lonely eyes of his. “I didn’t hate it.” He takes a step, pressing his body against you. You wrap your arms around his neck without thinking.
“Mm, I’ll take it, Lieutenant.” It’s one of the nicest things he’s said about your music. Of course you’re going to take any and all compliments from the cold-hearted soldier.
He cocks a brow while placing his gloved hands on your hips. “Oh, you’ll take it?”
Is that humor in his voice? Is he actually flirting this time and not just trying to rile you up? You giggle more, standing the toe of your heels to try to reach his mouth.
“Yes, I can take it,” you reply in a whisper, mouth so close to his mask. Your lidded eyes stare up at him, heart skipping a beat as heat washes over you.
“Are you sure, flower?” God, the things the nickname begins to do to you. It’s honestly sweet, if you think about it, and it makes you weak in the knees. It’s painful how much you want him. “Can you take me?”
You gulp, eyes fluttering as his hands begin to caress your hips. “I’m not the delicate little flower you think I am.” The space between you closes as he lowers his head. Your lips just barely brush against the mask. You want to feel him against you more than anything. “I can take all of it, Lieutenant.” Your tongue slips past your lips to ghost over the fabric, feeling the outline of his mouth. “Every. Inch.”
He growls, digging his fingers into your body. “You don’t know what you do to me.”
You could say the same. This man drives you wild. You don’t even care to hide it any longer. You want him and you want him to know.
A scream suddenly echoing throughout the front of the club breaks the spell you have on one another. His head jerks toward the noises past the hallway, suddenly on high alert as he blocks your body with his own from the door close by. In the other room, you hear a commotion, bodies shuffling, more screaming, fighting. You don’t have time to think.
He quickly grabs your arm to pull you farther into the back of the club. “Hurry!” he commands, and you have no chance to question him. He turns a corner and drags you along before stopping abruptly. Your body crashes into his back a second before you peek around him, spotting two masked men at the back exit of the club.
They don’t stand a chance before the soldier is on them. He grabs one in the middle of throwing a punch, twisting his arm with a kick to his knee, knocking him to the ground. The other man moves in, grabbing the Lieutenant by the waist, but is only met with a sharp knee to his stomach. The first man regains his balance, lunging toward him with all of his weight as the two tumble into the wall.
The second man moves past, aiming straight for you. You begin to back up, but he rushes to take hold of your hair in a tight fist. You scream, raising your hands to begin hitting him in the chest in an attempt to get out of his hold. You miss the shuffling of bodies straight ahead of you, the cry of pain, the thud as one of them hits the floor.
The man grabbing you is quickly snatched back, the Lieutenant coming into view. He takes the attacker by the arm, twisting it so far back you hear an actual snap of bones. He cries out in pain before slumping to the floor along with his partner.
“C’mon!” Your hand is taken and you’re led out of the club in a rush. Everything is going so fast. The world is spinning around you, heart racing, knees about to give out as you try to keep up with him on your way to the SUV. You feel so weak, so out of breath, and he quickly realizes that, turning to pick you up and throw you over his shoulder. He jogs the rest of the way while you hear the police sirens flooding the night’s air. Voices all around of people shuffling out of the club fill your ears. Your vision is blurry, going in and out and you aren’t sure if you’re going to pass out from being so overwhelmed.
Your body is thrown into the front seat and quickly a seatbelt rests over you. Blinking, you try to focus on anything to stabilize your vision. The vehicle is started. Tires screech as the two of you drive to safety.
“What… what happened?” Your voice is quiet, trembling. Just speaking the words make it harder to breathe. He doesn’t say a thing, only reaching for his phone in his pocket before tapping the screen a few times. “What’s going on?” you ask again. He gives you a look, but doesn’t say anything to you.
After a few silent seconds, someone picks up on the other end of the phone. You hear a deep voice, but you can’t make it out. “This is Lt. They’ve found her.”
Your eyes grow wide. “Who? Who found who?” You reach for him, squeezing his arm. He ignores you, speaking a few code names and keywords as usual. Things you don’t understand. Undercover special ops phrases, of course. Then he hangs up. “Please… answer me.”
“Those men back there work for the men your father is currently trying to capture.” He grunts, tightening his grip on the steering wheel. “They were there for you.”
“What?” You lean back in your seat, sinking down while placing a hand on your head.
“What do you mean ‘what’? You knew this was a possibility the whole time! And I fucking let my guard down. You could have gotten hurt. Or worse…”
“No, I thought my father was just being stupidly overprotective as always!” The words spin in your head. It still hasn’t dawned on you. There’s no way you were actually being sought out as some sort of revenge for your father getting close to taking down a criminal.
“I don’t know how to tell you this delicately, but there are men out there willing to hurt you just to hurt your father.”
You’re speechless. You keep your head in your hands. You don’t know how to process this information. He says nothing else. Neither of you do the entire drive back to your home, other than him mumbling to himself that luckily you weren’t followed.
When you arrive home, you aren't even sure what to do with yourself. What can you do after you were attacked? Your body slumps to the door, right in the doorway, tears you've been fighting finally falling down your cheeks. Your body heaves in a sob, finally letting it all sink in. You were attacked. You could have been hurt, and there you were flirting and teasing him like nothing else mattered.
You were almost taken by dangerous men. You really did need protection. For so long, you've wanted to be independent and strong. For so long you thought you could live life on your own. Your father was right. You are just a sad, weak little girl.
You continue losing yourself until a strong arm wraps around your body to pick you up from the floor. He pulls you in without hesitation. Wraps your body up against him, carrying you to the bedroom. He sits on the bed, still holding you against him as you cry into his jacket.
"I'm sorry, flower," He whispers, stroking your hair. "I know you're scared, but you don't have to be as long as you're with me. I promise I'll be dead before anyone lays their hands on you. Trust me."
You do trust him. You believe every word. You feel it as if each syllable is wrapping gently around your heart to ease the pain. You want to feel embarrassed for breaking down in front of him. Normally you would, but you're so angry at yourself for not believing them in the first place. How could you be so naive? Not anymore. You won't put yourself in that position again.
"Will you… stay with me?" You ask, sniffling while pulling away from him. "Tonight? Please, I don't want to be alone."
His eyes scan your face for a moment. "I'd do anything for you."
Your chest swells. He really is so sweet. So kind. Caring. All the things you accused him of not being, he is. You want to stay with him not just now, but forever. You're not scared to admit it anymore. You're not scared at all as long as you have him.
"I need to take all this off. I feel gross." You both look down at your performance outfit and then you motion up to your makeup. You need to wash the night away. You don't care if it's stupid to feel this way. You need to get everything off. You can still feel a sting in the back of your hand where the man grabbed you.
He nods before you slip off his lap, then he follows you to the bathroom. At first he leans against the door frame with his arms folded, until you motion for him to get the zipper on the back of your dress. He does so delicately, zipping slowly down until your bare back is uncovered. You feel his gaze on you. You know he's taking it all in. Your heart races as warmth floods your body.
You don't know what's gotten into you, you just know you want him close. You need him now more than ever. You want to feel this safe all the time.
The dress falls to the floor, leaving you in thin, flimsy panties in black. You hear a sharp inhale from behind, feeling your insides shake from knowing how much of you he's seeing. Suddenly, his fingers are on your neck, gloved knuckles brushing over your flesh, down your back between your shoulders, but he stops when he gets to your pantyline.
"Will you sit here while I wash up?" you ask, but you know he will. You want him to feel needed, because you do need him. Your heart wants him just as much as your body.
"Of course, flower," he says, voice deep, dark, demanding of your body's attention.
"I love when you call me that," you admit. "I pretended to hate it, but it always gives me butterflies."
"I love calling you my little flower," He replies, a smile in the words. "I love calling you mine."
You turn around upon hearing that, giving him a full view of your exposed breasts, stomach, the little V between your legs. His gaze lowers, taking in every inch of your body you're willing to allow him to see.
You don't say anything, too surprised in his confession to speak. You only lower your panties to the ground, giving him another part of your body to soak in. He practically groans at the sight of you naked before him. Your nipples harden beneath his heavy gaze. Heat surges through you. Yet, you're not embarrassed or ashamed. You feel appreciated by his lonely eyes. He doesn't make a move on you, doesn't even mutter a word. Now you believe him when he said he would worship you. He's doing it with his eyes in the moment.
Finally, you turn from him to take your shower, letting it heat up a moment before you step past the glass door. He watches you the entire time, lathering up your body, washing your hair, allowing the water to drip down every inch of you into the drain. You feel his eyes focused the entire time, but it doesn't make you feel insecure. No man has ever looked at you the way he does. He has so much adoration in his eyes you feel like you'll burst. There's longing, passion, and need.
He has a towel ready for you as you step out, wrapping up your body in an instant. You appreciate the warmth he can offer, making you feel so safe in his arms. You dry yourself off with his help, letting the masked man take care of you.
You decide in the moment you don't care about anything else. You just want to be with him. You're falling in love, and there's no slowing down your heart. You don't want to try even if you could.
"Kiss me," you suddenly say, dropping the towel to the floor. "Please, you don't have to take the mask off completely. I know it's hard for you. Just… kiss me? Please?"
He stares down at you for a moment. The question sinks in. Your assurance about his own insecurities over exposing himself even more so. Then he pulls you close by one strong, tattooed arm behind your back. With ease he props you up on the bathroom sink before lifting the mask enough to show his mouth.
His lips find your own in seconds. The smooth, soft skin presses to your lips in a rush of need, desire, desperation. You melt into him in an instant, so entranced by this man you would do anything for him. You pull him closer by the collar of his jacket, wanting more, needing to deepen the kiss and receive all of him. Your tongues collide and moans fill the air. His body presses into you, feeling his hardened cock rub against your bare slit.
The feeling is electric. Warmth fills you from head to toe as he kisses you. Finally, you surrender to him, becoming weak before him, opening yourself up to him, giving him all of you.
He doesn't take the moment for granted. His mouth lowers from your lips to your neck, kissing every inch of flesh he can reach. You cry out for him not to stop, giving him access to every part of you he wants to kiss.
It doesn't take him long to drop to his knees. A gloved hand parts your thighs wide for him. He kisses your inner knee softly, trailing toward your pussy as you lean back to give him more access. You're on full display for him, hearing him groan from the sight of your awaiting folds needing his mouth.
"Jesus Christ, flower," He growls, placing both hands on the backs of your thighs to push your body back and hold you in place. "If I die right here, I'll still be the luckiest man in the world getting to worship this pretty cunt."
His words make you shiver. Never has a man spoken to you as such. Especially not one kneeling between your thighs. What he says goes straight to the pit of your stomach, swirling lower as the red hot heat of desire settles in.
"Please," you beg him, not an ounce of shame in your body as you reach for him, pulling him closer to where you need him most.
He urgently gives in to your every command, whimper, and plea, lowering his half-masked face until his tongue becomes buried between your folds. A gasp fills the bathroom as your fingers dig into the back of his head, feeling him slip his tongue down your slit, from your aching clit to your entrance dripping with need. He presses his mouth over the swollen bud, sucking lightly to have your head falling back, jaw going slack. Cries of his name spill from your lips in the process, overwhelmed within seconds of this man's pleasure you're receiving. You push against the hold he has on your thighs, but he's good at keeping you in place as you shiver around him.
He tends to your clit, massaging in delicate circles to have your walls tensing. “Oh—” Your voice is shaky, a long exhale following the word. “Oh my God…” You can’t help but you rock yourself against his motions. Your body comes alive due to his mouth against your flesh. Heat begins building in the pit of your stomach, pleasure coursing through your body.
He keeps his eyes on you from between your thighs. You look down in time to see his tongue lower to your entrance as he slips inside of you, tasting every last drop of arousal you offer him. You pull him closer, pressing your thighs against the sides of his face and his tongue delves deeper inside of you a moment before licking back up to your clit. The motion drives you wild. Your eyes screw shut. Head back. Gaping. He teases and sucks and licks until you’re trembling against his sturdy, strong palms pressing to your thighs.
“I’m… I’m getting… c-close…” You can’t help but to mutter. Your voice wavers with each syllable. Heat swarms between your thighs. The blissful coil tightens in the pit of your stomach.
“Come for me, flower,” he growls between your legs. “I want to taste it all.”
The words send you over the edge the moment his mouth is on you again. He massages your clit right as you begin barrelling over the edge of pleasure. Gasps and moans fill the bathroom, thighs squeezing around his head as you roll your hips against his motions. Shaking, you hold him close with a hand still pressed to his head, and he never lets up, using his tongue to extend the bliss all throughout your body until you can barely take anymore. Then he leaves open-mouthed kisses along your slit, tasting all of you just as he said.
Gently, you push him away with a heavy exhale. You can’t take anymore. Your entire body is trembling in the aftermath. He pulls his head away, looking up at you while licking his lips. Then he leans in to press a few kisses against the inside of your thigh, keeping his eyes on your own the entire time. As if he’s claiming your body belongs to him now. There’s no turning back, and you wouldn’t want to even if you could.
***
It doesn’t take long for your father to get word of what happened at the club.You expect him to appreciate the Lieutenant for getting you to safety without any harm to you. He saved your life while getting attacked by two men at the same time. He should be thanking him, but you instantly hear a cold, stern voice coming through the other line when he picks up his ringing phone. Your father begins to question what you were doing in such a large crowd in the first place, why you weren’t being supervised better when that was the Lieutenant’s mission.
It comes as a shock when you hear him ask why the Lieutenant has his hands on you in the back of the club. Your eyes grow wide. He says nothing to your father, only letting him rage through the phone. You trace your steps back to the previous night, knowing you were tipsy before you quickly sobered up when the attack happened. You only remember a few other people in the hallway with you… but you did see a flash go off.
Someone took a photo of the two of you while he was holding you, and it somehow got back to your father. Now he’s being reprimanded over the phone by the commander. Your heart sinks into your stomach.
When he hangs up the phone, he doesn’t look at you.
“What’s going on?” you ask, knowing it became quiet at the end of the conversation. “What did he say?”
He hesitates for a long moment, looking down at the floor as he hovers near the front door. His arms are crossed over his chest. He won’t look at you at all. That same defensive stance that used to drive you crazy has made its return.
“It’s not good, little flower,” he finally speaks. Your heart jumps. The last thing you wanted to do was get him in trouble. “I’ve been reassigned.”
“What?!” You jump up from your seat, rushing to him. “No… No! Reassigned to what? Who is going to protect me? It’s obvious I need it now more than ever.” Your heart races, chest so heavy it’s hard to breathe. You don’t want to be without him.
“Someone else will look after you.” His voice is quiet, defeated. He knows there’s nothing he can do. He can’t go against his commander. “They’re putting someone else on duty to take my place.”
“No!” You begin shaking your head, not accepting this news at all. There’s no way you can have anyone else. No one can protect you like he can. “No, there has to be something… I’ll call my father!”
“Not a good idea.” He still isn’t looking at you. You wonder how much shame would be in his eyes if he were to. “Your father saw us together at the club. I don’t know how it got back to him, but he saw us. He thinks I put your life in danger, and he’s right. I wasn’t focused on my mission. I can’t focus when I’m with you because all I want to do is touch you.”
The tears begin welling behind your lids as you listen to him. A lump forms in your throat, the breath nearly taken from your lungs as he speaks.
“So I’m back to being just a mission to you?”
He sighs, running a gloves hand over his face. “I don’t know what you expect me to say…” You can see his jaw clenching through the mask. “Two missions in a row I disobeyed orders. No one was supposed to touch you. Especially me.”
He confirms what you feared. You’re just another mission he’s failed.
“Don’t do this.” You gulp away the tears. You can’t be weak in front of him. You can’t let him break your heart like this. “You said you would never let anyone hurt me and you kept that promise. But right now? What you’re saying. You’re breaking my heart. After what happened…”
“It shouldn’t have happened!” His voice raises just enough for you to step back. Your eyes grow wide.
“You can’t possibly mean that.” Your voice is trembling. Your bottom lip quivers. It’s like you’ve been gutted with your heart ripped out all at once. Each breath you take feels like the last because you don’t know how he could say things he doesn’t mean. You know he doesn’t mean it. “You don’t have to be so cold.”
He laughs without any humor in his voice with a shake of his head. “Is that what you think?” His tone is suddenly harsh, bitter. “You’re naive if you think that. Being cold is how I survived for so long. It doesn’t matter, anyway. I should have never let my guard down last night. I should have never…”
His words fall. You know what he wants to say, even if he can’t bring himself to speak it. Your heart twists and shatters, the final nail in the coffin. He’s not just upset he’s being reassigned. He’s angry at himself for getting distracted, and he makes it clear being with you was a mistake.
He huffs and runs a hand over his face. “I should go. Someone will be here soon, you won’t be without protection for long.” He turns to leave, cold as ever.
You follow him, gathering up all the courage inside yourself. You don’t want him to leave. “You’ll regret this!”
He pauses at the door, hand already on the handle. He doesn’t look at you. Not even a glance over his shoulder. “I already do, flower.”
Then he’s gone.
***
Two men are sent to watch over you that night. Your father’s orders. Maybe he sent two this time so they could keep an eye on each other. It doesn’t matter either way. They don’t speak much, and you don’t care to get to know them.
You miss him already.
You can’t even believe you fought so much with him at the beginning, then ended up falling for him. It’s so quiet now. You don’t have him to keep you calm anymore, and everything in your home feels so different. Off.
You hate it.
Their protection doesn’t last long, however. When the men attacked you at the club, it gave your father’s team leads where to find their criminal leader. Their urge to get to you only drew your father closer to them, and eventually their organization was taken down in a huge raid. You no longer needed protection and they were assigned somewhere else, leaving you alone.
You’re thankful of that, at least. Now you can get back to your life. You wonder how, when all you can think about is him, however. You wonder if he’s hurting the same way, missing you just as much.
“Just call him, honey,” Marjorie tells you one day, but you shake your head at her.
“He made it clear he doesn’t want to see me.”
She looks heartbroken enough for you and drops the subject.
Time passes but it’s not any easier. Not when you feel so strongly for the soldier. Not when you know he made a mistake. You don’t care what anyone says. What his orders are. What people expect of either of you. You both deserve happiness, and you’ve never felt calm and happiness like when you were with him.
Your father calls eventually, telling you the team is throwing a celebration in his honor and he would love for you to come. A few reporters will be attending as well. He’s even getting an award from top officials for taking down such a large criminal organization. The thought makes you even more bitter.
You attend the party taking place in the large meeting room turned ballroom of headquarters, however, but only because you hope you will see the Lieutenant there. Your father, other Lieutenants and Sergeants, as well as the staff that worked in the background, are there with their partners when you show up that same night to congratulate the Commander. Everyone is mingling, a little tipsy already, and you feel so out of place. You don’t know any of your father’s colleagues. Well, except one. You don’t see him anywhere, even though you’ve been keeping an eye out all night.
Just when you think you’ve given up, you spot him near the back at the bar, listening to someone ramble drunkenly in his ear. It doesn’t look like he’s even paying much attention. His eyes are on you. He spotted you first in the crowd, and when your gaze meets his own, your heart skips a beat.
Of course he’s wearing the mask. Even if it’s a formal celebration, he still hides from everyone here. You can’t look away from his stare. It’s like he’s inviting you in, but you remember his words. He doesn’t want to be with you.
Fuck that, you think. Yes he does. You make a move to go to him, but he’s standing to make his way out of the room. You quickly follow. You can’t let him get away so easily. Leaving the ballroom, you see him making a right into a long hallway. Carefully, considering you’re wearing heels, you chase after him as quickly as possible.
He’s about to enter a closed door when you call after him. He freezes for a moment, as if contemplating if he wants to turn around, then he proceeds through the door. As you walk closer, you see his name on a plaque outside, noting this must be his office. You don’t even knock before making your way inside.
His back is to you when you enter. The room is dark. Moonlight shines through two of the frosted over windows, illuminating the space just enough for you to see the outline of his face, his hair, and jaw. He’s not wearing his mask. He says nothing, and you’re nearly too out of breath from trying to keep up with him in heels. Instead, he reaches for a clear bottle of dark liquor, spinning the top before pouring a shot’s worth into a whiskey glass that was already laid out.
“Having fun at the party, flower?”
He still calls you that. Your heart leaps.
“No,” you tell him honestly. How could you when all you’ve been thinking about is how heartbroken you are.
He downs the drink in one go. “Oh? Maybe you should head home.” You know he wants the words to sound more bitter than he is. His voice is broken. Tired. Lonely. He does miss you. And this is clearly not his first drink of the night.
“I wanted to see you.” The words release in a tremble. You don’t want to be rejected again, but you know you have to try. “I… miss you. I tried so hard to be angry at you for leaving me, but honestly I just miss you. I wish I was angry, because it wouldn’t hurt as much as what you’re doing now.”
“You shouldn’t,” he replies sharply. “Waste of time to waste all that love you have inside of you on me. Don’t do it.”
“Don’t say that!” You step to him, bravely placing a hand on his shoulder from behind. He still won’t look at you. “I know you said you had to be cold to survive, but not with me. Don’t do that to me. You don’t have to find a method to survive with me when you can just live.”
He is silent for a moment. A long breath spills from his lips.
You continue, needing to get everything out that you’ve been feeling since he left. “You told me no one would ever hurt me, but you’re doing it now by trying to hide how you feel.”
“How can I possibly feel anything for you?” he snaps, catching you by surprise. You jerk your hand resting on his shoulder toward you. “Don’t…”
“Don’t what?” You gulp, trying not to cry once again.
“Don’t make me do this.” He pours another shot and downs it. “There’s no way we can be together. I don’t know what you expected, but people like me don’t know love like you do. I have a job to do. A dangerous one. I’m too fucked up and you’re not strong enough to deal with being with someone like me. And you’re the Commander’s daughter. You think that’s going to go over well with everyone?”
“I don’t give a fuck about everyone!” Now you’re the one snapping at him. His head jerks up, looking at you over his shoulder. You can make out the outline of his face in the moonlight. Even if he’s hurting you, you can’t help but to want to reach out and touch him. “If you’re scared then just say that, but don’t make this out to be like we’re not good enough for one another because I know you care deeply for me. After what we shared…”
“What? I made you come,” he interrupts, nonchalant and dismissive. “That’s all. I wonder what daddy Commander would think if he knew I ate your sweet little pussy. I bet I’d have a bullet in my head right now.”
“Fuck you!” You reach for him out of rage and hurt, pushing against his back, but he doesn’t even budge. You’re done listening to him. This is clearly not him when he’s like this, and you won’t let him disrespect you as if you didn’t share secrets you never told anyone else. “You know it was much more than that. You really are fucked up!”
You don’t mean the words as you turn on your heel to leave. You only want to hurt him like he’s hurting you. Just like when you first met. Just when you reach the door handle, you feel his arms wrap around your body, not even realizing he was making a move toward you. Your back presses to this chest as he holds you in place.
“Don’t fucking say that to me,” he growls in your ear. “You don’t want to go there with me, little flower, trust me.” His words are meant to be threatening, but you feel the pain within them. The anger isn’t directed at you, but the life he’s had to live.
“Stop calling me that and just tell me what’s wrong. Why are you being like this?” You don’t struggle to break free from his hold. You hate how much you’ve missed it. You wish you could be angry at him, but it feels too good to your body to feel his strong arms wrapped around you. There’s no use in fighting it.
“I don’t know what you expected, sweetheart. What? To fall in love and live happily ever after? With a fucked up special ops soldier like me? Always gone. Not knowing if I’ll come back alive or in a coffin.” His words twist around your heart, squeezing until you can hardly breathe. His voice is like ice in your ear. A shiver races down your spine.
“So you would rather be cold to me and not even try because you’re scared of getting hurt? Is that it?” You spit back. You’re not backing down from this fight. “You blame me and not being able to handle being with you, but it’s not me. You’re scared to open yourself up to me, still, even after what we shared. You’re scared of a future that hasn’t even happened yet, you won’t even try for a future we actually want. You’re scared of what everyone thinks, but not what the person that loves you thinks?”
His grip on your loosens just a bit. You’ve taken him by surprise. It’s clear he didn’t expect you to admit you love him, but you do. You’re in love with him, and you love him so much you’re willing to fight for him. Unlike everyone else in his past, you want him there, and you’ll die trying before letting him go so easily.
He sighs, dropping his head. His voice is trembling. Suddenly, you feel warm drops of salty tears hitting your shoulder. He’s crying. For you.
“I’m fucked up, flower.” His voice is cracked and broken. Your heart aches just hearing it. “I don’t deserve you.”
Your breath catches in your throat at his confession. His body relaxes behind you, his hands rubbing along your lower stomach, still holding you close. You melt into his touch, wanting nothing more than to comfort him, but you need him to release himself to you. Free himself of this burden that’s been weighing on him to make him feel so trapped in his own hurt.
“I don’t want to be cold to you,” he admits, exhaling slowly. “God, you’re the warmest thing I’ve ever had in my life. You melt my ice cold heart. That’s why I don’t feel good enough for you. I don’t want to dim your light with my darkness.
“Oh…” You sigh, turning around with warning. He falls to his knees in front of you. His face becomes buried in the silk of your dress, tears soaking into the material with his hands on your hips. For the first time, you run your fingers through his hair.
“I’ve never opened myself up to anyone. Not since childhood.. I don’t even know how, I think,” he continues, words muffled here and there from how close he is to you. He’s never gone into detail about his past, but you don’t want to imagine the horrors he’s seen to make him so shielded. “I’ve never wanted to show myself to anyone until I met you. I’ve never felt for anyone like I do you.”
You allow his words to sink in, feeling the big soldier surrender to you on his knees. “I want to see all of you,” you reply in a whisper. “I want you to be open with me. And I… well, I won’t let anyone hurt you, either. I promise.”
Upon hearing your words, he finally looks up at you to meet your eyes. For the first time, he shows you his face. He shows you all of him. You take it all in, studying the shape of his eyes, his nose, his lips. The curve of his jaw and even his hair. All the way down to his neck, you take in every inch and burn it to your memory.
“I didn’t mean what I said,” he confesses. “I’m so sorry, I never want to hurt you again. I never want to be so cruel to you. What we shared allowed me to do this now. Showing myself to you. It was important to me, and if you never want to see me again, I get it, but I’ll never forget what you’ve done for me, flower.”
You can’t help the tears that hit your cheek. “I want you, Lieutenant,” you tell him, and in your next breath, you say, “I love you. Don’t ever hide yourself again, okay?”
He blinks a few times, those once lonely eyes filling with so much love for you. He says the words in return, staring up at you until he’s sure you forgive him. Then he stands, wrapping arms around you to pull you close and lift your body to guide you to his desk. He places you on top before his lips come down to meet your own. Taking you in a gentle kiss, you moan against his skin, feeling his body press between your legs. His hands wander anywhere he can reach, savoring you with his touch while his tongue slips against your own.
“What if—” you begin, breathless, whispering as his kisses fall to your neck, “—someone catches us in here?”
“Don’t care,” he growls. “I’ve missed you too fucking much. I want to show you how much I love you, flower.”
Your body shivers. Goosebumps flood your skin. You’re already so worked up, emotionally and physically. Your head is in a whirlwind of feelings while your body goes right back to craving him. Especially when he touches you as he does. His palms caressing your sides before dropping your thighs. Skin on skin makes you finally realize he’s not wearing his gloves. Heat floods you from the contact.
“Touch me,” you whisper, wrapping a hand around his head when he looks at you.
“Tell me where.”
“Here.” You take his hand, touching his skin for the first time as you guide his fingers between your thighs. He presses against your clothed slit, sending another pulse of warmth through your body. God, you’ve missed him. “Please…” you beg him, and he chuckles, kissing you again.
“You never have to beg me,” he teases, slipping your panties to one side to feel your pussy against his skin, “I’m so weak for you, flower, I’d do anything you asked.”
“Oh…” Your breath waivers. Body already trembling by the time he sinks a finger inside you, slowly, driving you wild. Then he adds another, burying the digits deep before pulling them away.
“So wet for me, already,” he says. “Remember when I said I would worship you? Remember when I made it clear there would be no doubt you were mine?”
How could you forget? You remember that night pinned to your bed. His big body on top of you. You were so mad at him you wanted to fight him. “Yes,” you exhale.
“You’re mine, flower,” he growls against your ear, pumping his fingers inside of you, curling them to make you quiver. Your thighs tighten around his hand as he begins massaging the spot that makes your toes curl in your heels. “Every inch of this beautiful body is mine for me to do as I wish. I want to worship every part of you until you can no longer stand.”
Your head spins at his words and the way he’s fucking you with his fingers. Arousal drips to coat his flesh as the warmth swells from between your legs. You whimper his name while running your hands over his shoulders, trying to hold on to the last bit of your sanity. He drives you wild and all you can think of doing is giving in to him, giving all to him.
“Look at me,” he demands, running the fingers of his free hand along the base of your neck until he grabs a fistful of your hair. You meet his eyes in a gasp, not daring to look away from him for a second. His thumb rises to reach your clit, applying pressure to send you closer to the edge. Your chest heaves as the whimpers and cries spill out for him, so lost in his pleasure you don’t care about anyone or anything. “Just imagine when I fill you up with my cock, right here, flower. I’m going to fucking wreck you.”
You’re shaking against him, squeezing your thighs around him, face twisting in bliss. Your mouth remains open, every word a call of his name, a plea to continue, not to stop. You’re getting so close, but you try to push away your end because you don’t want the moment to be over with so quickly. You don’t care about the risk of getting caught. You don’t care about others finding out. You want to live in this moment, with his sinful tongue drawing out the delicious noises you’re making along with his fingers buried deep in your pussy.
“So… so close…” Your hips move with his motions. One hand falls to grip his wrist.
“Come for me,” he commands, “let me feel it, little flower.”
There’s no stopping the pleasure now. It builds with the anticipation of a hungry animal and crashes down around you like dangerous waves. Heat courses through you from between your thighs, the coil of pressure finally snapping to send your body into absolute bliss. You cry out one last time, sinking into his body as you ride out the pleasure against his hand. He holds you close, pulling your body to him and dropping his mouth to your lips. He kisses you through it all, taking it all in as you come undone around him, giving him the chance to show you what you mean to him.
Heavy breaths fill his office for a moment. He kisses you all over. Your lips. Your cheek. Your jaw and neck. He brings you back down just as gently, taking care of you like he promised he would. You’re completely spent. Exhausted from the fighting, worn out from his pleasure. But now there’s peace in your heart. There’s no more fighting, or longing, or hiding how you feel. You’re his, and he’s yours.
A sudden knock on the Lieutenant’s door brings the two of you back to reality in an instant. Before the door can be opened, you slip off the desk to straighten out your dress. He reaches for his mask you didn’t realize was laying right beside you behind the liquor bottle, tugging it over his head. His name is called from the other side a second before the door opens.
“The commander’s looking for you, Lieutenant,” the male voice says. You turn your back from the door, not wanting to be spotted by anyone alone in his office. “And his daughter. Have you seen… Oh!”
Clearly, the guy spotted you and him awkwardly standing in the middle of the room. You peek over your shoulder, realizing it’s just a Sergeant from your father’s team.
“We’ll be there soon, Serg.”
The Sergeant nods, looks between the two of you, then grins. “I’ll let ‘em know, Lt.”
When he leaves, you exhale a heavy breath. “Are you ready to do this?" You know once you walk out that door and return to the party with him, there's no hiding anything between the two of you. You have no choice, really, considering you both have been missing for a while. At least with an audience, your father can't kill you both.
He turns to you, giving you a quick, yet hesitant nod. "As long as you're right there with me." He grabs your hand and together you make your entrance.
Turns out, with an audience and being high off of the congratulations and awards for his bravery, your father isn't too upset. Not even shocked, really, when the two of you return after being gone. You tell him you'll talk later, explain everything, and that's good enough for him.
When he calls you the following day, he apologizes for being too hard on you. He also admits his work gets him so distracted from life, he can't think straight, clearly. When he's deep in a case, he sees nothing else but how to achieve a victory. He explains he overreacted when he found out about you and the Lieutenant at first. After all, your father trusts him, and knows he did everything right in protecting you. If that's someone you want in your life, then who is he to stop you from having your own happiness.
After the phone call, you're shocked to say the least. You feel like you don't even know the man you just spoke to. Maybe his work really does turn him into a cold-hearted soldier, but you're getting used to that fact now. He's still your father, and you know in the end, he only wants you to be safe and happy.
He still gives a stern warning to the Lieutenant when they see each other again. The commander promises if his daughter's heart is broken, there will be hell to pay. The Lieutenant is fine with the promises, realizing he got off much easier than expected. Now he sees he doesn't always have to refuse himself of what he wants, especially when it comes to loving you.
After meeting with your father, he makes his way to you in a hurry considering there’s still so much he has to make up for. You open your door to a bouquet of flowers, and the thought makes you giggle because you just can’t imagine him walking in and purchasing them.
“Is this your kind of humor?” you ask, thinking of the nickname you’ve grown to love.
“Flowers for my flower,” he says, peeking his head around the pink tulips in his hand. You take your gift and allow him inside, quickly finding a vase for them to put them on display in your living room before the two of you take a seat on your couch.
“How sweet.”
“And charming and kind?” he teases by asking, recalling your previous conversations at your label’s office building. You love that he can find a way to lighten the mood and make your past fights seem funny and ridiculous.
“Yes, that, too,” you tell him. Without hesitation, he pulls the mask from his face, laying it to the side. Your chest blossoms with warmth. You also love that he’s grown so comfortable with you. You can’t imagine having to hide yourself for most of your life just as a way to protect your heart. You feel so fortunate he trusts you. He’s still wearing his work uniform, but now there’s less weapons hidden here and there. You imagine he still has at least a knife sheathed somewhere on him. It wouldn’t be him if he didn’t. “How did it go today?”
“I think he wanted to be angry at me at first,” he says, recalling the meeting he had with your father as you scoot closer, resting your head on his shoulder. He instantly wraps an arm around you. You feel so warm in his embrace. The guy radiates heat, it’s hard not to feel so cozy. “Then he explained to me there’s nothing more important to him than your safety and happiness. As long as I can promise you’ll have that, he’s okay with it. I’m not being fired, or worse.”
You have to give your father credit for being reasonable.
“Well, I have that now,” you tell him, lifting your head to press your lips against his cheek. “Though, I was promised a certain thing you haven’t fulfilled, yet.”
He smirks. “What’s that?”
“Well,” you sigh, “you did say there would be a lot of worshiping and groveling and proving I’m yours.”
“Groveling?” He chuckles. “I said that?”
“In my head you did.” He laughs harder at your answer. “Also, you said you would ‘wreck me’ if I remember correctly. And you would do anything I asked, because you’re desperately in love with me.” You’re grinning as you tease him, but his expression falls. His gaze softens, eyes lowering and smile dropping from his face.
“Are you asking me, flower?” His eyes meet yours, tone suddenly darker, suddenly raspy and needy. “Are you asking me to wreck you?” His smirk returns.
You lean closer, a grin on your lips as you whisper in his ear. “I’m begging, Lieutenant.”
Without warning, he reaches to pull you into his lap. Your legs straddle his thighs as you sit on him, arms wrapping around his neck while his hands grip your ass. Not giving him another chance to speak, your lips crash into his mouth. You kiss him desperately as if you’re making up for the time spent apart. As your tongue caresses over his once slipping past his lips, his fingers pluck at the bottom of your shirt. It takes you a few seconds to register the feeling, but you quickly pull away once you do to remove the tee, along with your bra, leaving your bare breasts on display for him.
“Beautiful,” is all he says, reaching a gloved hand to caress your tits and making a moan escape your lips in the process. The feeling of the fabric against your hardened nipples makes you shiver. It’s enticing to watch him play with you in such ways, you allow him to thumb the aching bud before squeezing your breast in his hand.
“Feels so good,” you whisper to him, eyes closing. “I want you to touch me everywhere like that.” You know he realizes you mean with the gloves on when you hear a deep grunt from his chest.
“I plan to,” he informs you, both hands now caressing down your ribcage, to your hips to pull you closer. His mouth is instantly on your body, tongue easing over one nipple before kissing it gently, then doing the same to the other. You can’t help but to moan his name. He sucks on your flesh, taking his time to worship this moment and your body all the same. He kisses, licks, and sucks on your skin until the room starts spinning. You’re so worked up, feeling arousal soak into your panties as you roll your hips against him. You feel his hardened cock between your thighs when you do so, the friction making him groan against your skin.
“I want to feel you too,” you tell him, snapping back to reality and reaching for his thin, black t-shirt. He assists you in slipping it over his head, giving you a view of his chest for the first time. Running your hands down his body, you feel his skin against your own. He’s so warm to the touch, so hard, so manly. Your insides burn with desire.
“I want you,” you whisper while leaning closer, lips just barely touching his own. “I want you to fuck my mouth.”
A darkness casts over his eyes at your request, but you’re already working the belt to his pants. Then the button and zipper. He’s nearly bulging out of his boxer-briefs, and he helps you shove the clothing down his hips until a thick, hard and needy cock is on display for you to play with. He’s so much bigger than you were prepared for, but he feels so good against your skin when you take him in your hand. A deep groan builds in his chest from the contact.
“Be gentle with me, flower,” he warns, eyes lidded and his expression twisted with need. His voice is breathier than before. He’s already so worked up. “It’s so easy for someone like me to lose myself in someone like you.” You know his warning isn’t about being physical. You assume he hasn’t been intimate with many people in his life, especially when he’s so guarded. His words fall on your ears like a desperate plea to not toy with his emotions, but how could you when you’re so dangerously in love with him?
Without another word you drop to your knees before him. Your hand grips him at the base of his cock as your mouth draws near. You give him a gentle lick across the tip before kissing his skin. His body tenses in response, so you do it again. How is this big soldier so weak beneath your gaze right now? You have him under your spell as you take him in your mouth, stretching around him so it will fit.
He sucks in a breath and then growls his exhale, reaching for your hair to take in a fistful in his hand. You pump your hand a few times while playfully sucking on the tip just to see his reaction. His hips thrust softly, sending nearly another inch into your mouth.
“Fuck me, flower,” he groans, never taking his eyes off you. “Your mouth feels too fucking good.”
Warmth floods your body from the praise. You want to keep pleasing him. You decide it’s what he deserves and you love seeing him come apart from the bliss. You take him farther into your mouth, sucking him off to hear the groans and grunts he releases. Your hand plays with the shaft, taking care of everything that won’t fit in your mouth. He begins to slowly move his hips, fucking himself into your mouth just like you wanted. His grip on your hair tightens. He’s beginning to lose control.
Then you pull back to run your tongue along the base of his cock all the way to this tip. The motion is painfully slow, teasing him while making the moment last. His jaw clenches at the sight of you on your knees before him, wrapping your lips around his thick, needy cock once again to take as much as you can.
“Fuck, that’s my good girl,” he growls as he thrusts himself back into your mouth. “Take more of it, baby.”
The new affectionate nickname along with his praise has your panties soaked. You take more of him past your lips, eyes beginning to water as the breath catches in your throat. He continues to thrust in and out while you take it, body so hot and worked up you’re dying to feel it in your pussy, too. You squeeze your thighs together as you suck him off, allowing him to use your mouth as he wishes as he pushes your head lower.
“You like my cock in your mouth like this, flower?” he asks, the words released through clenched teeth. His voice is so shaky, so desperate that it fuels your desire even further. All you can do is moan in return as he hits the back of your throat. “Just wait until it’s in that pretty little cunt of yours, baby. I’m going to fuckin’ fill you up.”
You’re shivering as you listen to him speak, keeping your eyes on his face the entire time. He’s so lost in the moment, face twisted in pleasure, head falling back with deep groans filling his throat. His chest tightens along with the muscles of his stomach, strong arms flexing as he brings your head down, then back up.
But he knows he won’t last much longer with your lips around his cock. He gently pulls you away from him with a heavy sigh, taking in the sight of you with tears welling in your eyelids, lips swollen, and gasping for breath. Then he pulls you closer, making quick work of the jean shorts and panties you wear, slipping them to your ankles a second before he’s guiding your back to the couch. He’s between your thighs a moment later.
“Please,” you beg, pulling him close while raising your hips so your soaked slit meets his cock, still wet and messing from being in your mouth. “I need you.” You’re breathless as he pushes his pants lower, getting a better position between your legs before you feel the tip of his length press over your swollen clit.
“I told you,” he begins, lowering his cock to your entrance as he guides himself with a gloved hand, “you never have to beg me.” You feel the pressure of him beginning to enter you, his thick tip slipping between your folds as it stretches your pussy open.
“Fuck,” you gasp, back arching, nails digging into his shoulders. He freezes with heavy breaths spilling from his lips, but your grasp moves down his chest to his hips to pull him in. “Don’t stop,” you tell him with desperation. He continues easing inside of you, groaning when he feels you tightening around him. You screw your eyes shut as you adjust to his size, becoming so full of his cock in seconds. Your breaths deepen, listening to him groan as your warmth wraps around him.
“Tell me, flower,” he struggles to say between his teeth, “tell me to keep going. Tell me you want it.”
He’s so deep inside of you, your thighs are already shaking around him. You pull your knees closer to your chest, allowing him room to ground out inside of you, earning whimpers of his name, little pleas and cries to follow.
“Yes,” you tell him in a shaky tone, needing more of him, “I want it. I want you.”
He begins to move his hips, pulling out then pushing back in. He starts slow at first, feeling you quiver beneath him, listening to the breathy little noises you make. He loves it all. Loves watching you unfold in front of him.
“Feels so good,” he groans. “So perfect, and all for me.”
He snaps his hips into you, making you gasp before a moan fills the air. You scratch his sides, leaving marks along his skin as he does so, but it only makes him go wild. He grabs your wrists, quickly pinning them above your head before continuing to bury himself inside of your pussy.
“Remember the first time we were like this, flower?” His pace quickens, pushing his weight into your body to hit you deep within your walls. So deep you feel the pressure through your entire body, rolling your hips to meet the motions in return as you become greedy for pleasure. “When I had you like this on your bed? The way I wanted to fuck you right then and there was almost too much to bear. I was so fucking hard feeling you beneath me.”
His words send a surge of heat through your entire body. Goosebumps flood your skin, too breathless to even speak, but he’s getting off on it. He goes even faster, fucking you until you’re speechless. Every snap of his hips draws out another cry of his name, another plea to keep going. You’re dripping all over his cock and the way he fucks you, he deserves every drop. It’s almost too much to take, becoming overwhelmed from the pleasure, the way he speaks to you, how he keeps your hands above your head. He has complete control of your body, savoring the way it feels deep inside of your cunt.
You feel the pressure building, the bliss swirling between your thighs. His groans fill the air, mixing with your cries of pleasure. Neither of you will last much longer like this. You want one another too badly, your body has been craving his own it nearly hurts.
“Touch me,” you whimper, feeling him slow his pace into deep, long strokes of his cock within you. “So… close…”
In an instant, he releases his grip on you to take you by the hips. He urges your body to flip over before pulling you close from behind. Now your knees dig into cushions while he thrusts himself into you from behind. A gasp spills from your lips just as he wraps an arm around your body, bringing you closer while the other hand slips between your thighs. His fingers find your clit, feeling the material of the gloves against your skin to send your body into overload.
“Like this, baby?” he groans from behind, his mouth right next to your ear. You feel his heavy breaths against your neck. “Want me to wreck this pussy just like this?”
He buries himself into you from behind while tending to your clit. Your mind goes numb, his pace quick, yet he’s still deep inside of you. His ruthless thrusts from behind have the tears welling in your eyes once again. You’re shaking in his arms as he holds you up, heat filling every inch of your body until you begin to lose all control.
The bliss spills over without warning. All you can do is cry out as the waves of pleasure wash over your body, taking hold of every emotion while he continues fucking you from behind. He caresses your clit, the material of his gloves soaked in your juices just the same as his cock. You’re shivering from being overwhelmed with pleasure, walls tightening around him to make him groan and curse behind you.
Feeling you reach your own end has him losing all control. You’re so wet and messy, it feels too good to him as his head falls back and he groans praises. His grip on your body tightens before he spills inside of you, filling you up with his cum just as his pace begins to slow. Heavy breaths are shared in the pleasure to mix with moans and groans and curses. His cock twitches inside of you as you begin to come down, giving you every last drop of his release.
When the both of you finally collapse against the couch, you end up resting against his chest. One leg thrown over his. An arm around your body. You hear his quick heartbeat against your ear and he feels the softness of your skin as he holds you.
“I want you to know how much I love this,” you tell him breathlessly. Your eyes close, savoring the feel of being so safe and cozy. You can’t help but to think how far the two of you have come. You never imagined falling in love, but now you can’t imagine yourself any other way. Your heart swells for this man. “I feel like I’m dreaming.”
He chuckles. “It’s real, little flower.” He lifts his head and you do the same, softly kissing one another to cherish the feeling.
You’re his now. The ghost and the flower. One so hidden from the world, the other almost too delicate to touch. Except when you’re together, he can be free from the burden of a painful past, and you get to prove just how strong you are. A match made in heaven.
#simon riley#ghost#simon riley smut#simon ghost riley#bts smut#marvel smut#call of duty smut#twilight smut#harry potter smut#jungkook smut#loki smut#nct smut#got7 smut#monsta x smut#stray kids smut#harry styles smut#ghost smut#jimin smut#taehyung smut#bts scenarios#marvel scenarios#stray kids scenarios#call of duty scenarios
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[Transcript under the cut]
Lilith: what happened to your bike?
Ernest: i think snow got stuck on the wheels. sucks.
Lilith: well i think it's not a day to bike around. or… hang out.
Ernest: it's never a bad day to see a friend
Lilith: …
Ernest: what is it?
Lilith: it's… um…
Lilith: …
Lilith: you look fancy today.
Ernest: oh! my good clothes. my father in law is coming over later today, i need to look decent.
Lilith: that's… nice.
Ernest: hello!!
Ernest: …Vlad? hm.
Ernest: there you are-
Ernest: oh. oh my god what happened to your eyes? is your diet messed up?
Vlad: if it was, you would know.
Ernest: …
Vlad: there is something bothering you.
Ernest: ahah. very true.
Ernest: originally i wanted to, spend some time with my friend. practice on your pipe organ some more, maybe. but now i just want to talk
Ernest: did i ever tell you what my two novels were about?
Vlad: no, you did not.
Ernest: they were about things you could find in the dark, and good vamps. you see i used to find comfort in horror.
Ernest: i… want you to keep them. maybe you'll find in them what my boss didn't.
Vlad: why…me?
Ernest: ah, it's just- another one of my gifts.
Vlad: …thank you.
Ernest: hah. my mama would be so mad at me
Ernest: she said my stories had a light the others would be grateful to see. but i just don't see the point on writing anymore.
Vlad: you have both a great mind and great words, what could be stopping you from sharing them?
Ernest: oh well, I think i am…out of the loop, friend.
Vlad: …?
Ernest: ah, how can i explain this to you…
Ernest: a little more than a decade along, after she died, things got… strange. tea was too much, music was not on time, everything made me feel like something terrible was about to happen, even my own words. i was… slow.
i went to the medics, thought i had some kind of vitamin deficency.
Ernest: they told me i was depressed instead.
Ernest: i was given a bunch of drugs, and even got institutionalized for a few seasons.
Ernest: i don't think it was only because of her passing away. i think there was always something wrong with me.
Ernest: sigh i got better after my son was born. much better. i thought it was finally gone but, no.
Ernest: it has a hold on me, and it will not release. it's unbearable
Vlad: who?
Ernest: my whole head, i believe.
-ernest walks around-
Ernest: even if i just wish to break away, i don't want to keep making Mila sad anymore.
Ernest: ah…ahah. god. things are too much all the time …but, you know what, Vlad?
Ernest: even if it sounds stupid from the mouth of someone as tired and worn out as me,
Ernest: i still believe my children will make their days shine, y'know? they'll go far. because i want them to have beautiful lives.
Ernest: …i wish you were able to understand.
Ernest: well i- clears throat thanks for listening, you're good at it.
Ernest: i talked too much.
Ernest: agh- i'm just having bad thoughts. i need to be an adult and not run from… everything.
Ernest: …
Ernest: it will pass
Vlad: ernest, wait.
Vlad: stay here, stay in the manor
#hi.#ts4#munch#ernest munch#vladislaus straud#mila munch#carmen villareal#lilith vatore#hm#tw depression#there#prologue
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Brainrot has hit me real hard for @shepscapades Detroit Become Hermitcraft story, so I thought I’d write a little something for it! I love dbh worldbuilding, and putting the hermits in there only adds to my interest. Anyway, this is partially based on Gem’s Season 8 episode 3, since it lives rent-free in my heart, and I thought it’d be fun to try to translate Gem and Impulse’s interaction into this au. Story’s under the cut!
“Impulse! Hi!”
GeminiTay trotted excitedly towards the android, waving enthusiastically. Impulse smiled, walking slightly quicker to meet her in front of her porch.
[Objective: Meet with GeminiTay] [Complete]
“Hello Gem,” Impulse said, “How are you?”
“Fantastic, thank you,” Gem said, “How’re you?”
“I am well,” Impulse responded. All of his systems were in order, and he hadn’t encountered any warning messages for twelve days. “Am I interrupting anything?”
“No, no,” Gem said, looking a little sheepish, “I was just in the process of, uh, mischief. You’re fine, don’t worry.”
Instead of pointing out that worrying was not in his programming, Impulse simply nodded and got back to their business deal, “Pearl told me that you had some gold that you’d be willing to give us.”
“I sure do!” Gem nodded, rifling through her inventory, “I’ve got two stacks, is that enough?”
“Yes,” he nodded.
[Objective: Collect gold] [Complete]
Taking payment from the pockets of his new suit, he continued, “Pearl didn’t specify a what I should trade with you, will this suffice?”
Gem gasped at the diamonds the android handed to her. “Ten diamonds?” she counted, “Are you sure?”
“Should I have chosen a better price?” Impulse asked, tilting his head curiously. He had done a bit of research beforehand, but he wasn’t programmed with economics in mind. Maybe he should look into some of the wider databases in order to expand his usefulness.
“No, this is fine, I just wasn’t expecting this!” Gem said, “You’re so nice, thank you so much!”
Impulse nodded, watching her turn to presumably walk back to her house. However, instead of going inside, Gem placed down an orange shucker box and dug something out of it.
“Here,” she said, spinning back to face him, “I gave you a spore blossom earlier, and you deserve the real thing too!” She took his hand in hers and gently pressed an item into it, dripleaf if Impulse was correct.
“I don’t have to do your parkour course for this?” Impulse asked, taking a brief moment to analyze the plant. Yep, that was some authentic dripleaf right there.
“Nope! I mean, you can if you want to,” Gem said, “It’s a gift!”
Impulse frowned, the light on the side of his forehead blinking yellow. This was a business transaction, right? He couldn’t simply receive this without giving her anything in return. He rapidly checked his inventory, looking to see if he had anything that could be of use, and decided on the stack of slimeballs he had harvested from the work-in-progress farm.
“I can’t take this for free,” he stated, holding the items out to her, “Please, take this in exchange.”
“Slime?” Gem said, taking the stack carefully, “Oh, I didn’t have any slime yet, this is great!”
Smiling politely, Impulse nodded, expecting that to be the end of the interaction. Gem seemed to have other ideas, though. Hopping closer, she wrapped her arms around his midsection and squeezed gently, leaning into his chest with a soft hum.
“I didn’t expect you to be so huggable,” Gem observed, “I kinda figured you’d be plastic-y and cold, but you’re really soft!”
[Software instability]
Impulse didn’t know how to respond to that.
“Well, thank you so much!” Gem said, lightly tapping her forehead against the android’s arm, “I’ll see you later, Impulse!” And with that, she released him from her grasp and skipped back to her house.
Well, that was interesting.
#hermitcraft dbh au#impulsesv#geminitay#Ashe does writing#not intended as shipping I just think they're cute#yes I am projecting onto Gem with the forehead bonk to show affection
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A love you deserve (Ricky Olson) - Part 1 of ?
Hi guys! Long time no see.
I missed writing so much and here I am, trying to make a comeback. This will be a Ricky Olson/ Horror love story and we will see together how many parts it will have.
NOTE: Ricky will not be present in the first part, being more of an introduction to the story.
Warnings: none.
I hope you'll enjoy it and by box is open if you think I can put your ideas into something nice.
__________________________________________________________
“Lexus, you’ve got 5 minutes!”
“Alright, I’m coming!”
I am rushing to the stage while trying to dodge the many people that were on my way. Today was a big day for us, our second studio album being released on the last day of our American tour. We tried to keep it a secret and tonight the fans are going to hear one of the singles.
Being a little nervous is a misunderstanding, because I am terrified. The whole band united to make something better than the first album, where we tried different things to show we can do more. We are not dreaming of going #1 on the charts, we only want to hear our fans saying they are proud of what we want to become.
Now I’m in the backstage, waiting for the guys to prepare my entrance. We always try to do something different and today, Seth, the drummer, came with an idea. He will play a little solo, giving a little hint about the first song on the setlist. After that Andrew, who plays bass, will do the same thing. In the end, Xander, the guitarist, will be the last one to have his moment which will mark my entrance. And that moment is happening now.
I only hear screaming and I can barely see any faces from the lights. But I always feel like home while on stage. In that moment all of my fears disappeared, being replaced with excitement for doing what I love.
“Let’s rock this place out!”
If there is a thing I hate about myself is that I will never be a morning person. My alarm started to ring so loud that I could feel the vibration in my brain. I tried to stop it and I failed miserably when the phone fell on the floor. When I reached out for it I saw a message from Xander:
~ Wake up you piece of sunshine, we have business to do. ~
Getting out of bed was my main business at the moment. I went to the bathroom and saw that I completely forgot to take my make-up off last night. Tried to repair the damage and made myself look a little more presentable I made my way up to Xander’s room.
“Look who finally decided to show up looking like a mess.”
“Such a sweetheart. I’m sorry I did not get all glammed up for your poor little eyes.”
“At least you are not losing your sense of humour when you barely sleep.”
Well, that’s true. About both things, of course. My sense of humour? One of a kind. Sleeping schedule? A completely mess. This tour got all the life out of me but I know now we have a couple of months free to prepare the international tour for the new album.
“The manager called and apparently we are going to play some shows.”
“Where? Last night we finished the tour, isn’t that enough?”
“Don’t give me this attitude cause you’ll love it. It’s about Warped Tour.”
We had a thing that I hate and now a thing that I love. I always loved Warped Tour because I don’t see it as a job I have to do, but as a place where I can hang out with my friends every day. Maybe I will not regret that much the sleep I will still not get.
“Oh and a little birdie told me your boyfriend will be there as well.”
“Then it will be one hell of a summer.”
#ricky horror imagine#ricky olson#ricky horror#miw#miw band#miw fanfic#miw imagine#motionless in white#motionless in white fanfic#chris cerulli#vinny mauro#justin morrow#ryan sitkowski#ben bruce imagine#ben bruce#asking alexandria
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I don't know how to thank you. This feels like the end of an era. I can't believe it's been 4yrs since you started posting hiuh and I was instantly hooked. It literally got me through the pandemic. I learned so much from the story and felt I had Neo as a therapist(the best in the world). You must be flooded with asks now but I am really curious how the story formed in your head. It's hard to believe how consistent the story is as you posted chapter by chapter. Did you outline the whole story when you started? did you stick to all the original ideas? if you changed your mind what were they? It really is a master piece - much much better than many published books I read and I hope you will publish someday, if that's what you want.
I'd also offer you my first born to have an epilogue. hopefully lamen with their child(ren) playing on the beach and Nicaise being the doting big brother. they all grew so much and deserve all the happiness. oh and Kastor and Jo and Galen for big family gathering. I'm so proud of all of them.
thank you thank you thank you for all your patience and genius and mostly, generosity.
hello!!!! i'm so happy that my story resonated with you and got you through some tough times. it did the same for me!
It's hard to believe how consistent the story is as you posted chapter by chapter.
thank you!! it will never be as good as it was in my head or as good as I know I could have made it if I had spent more time on it, but for me the most important thing is that it is completed and at least 70% of what I wanted it to be. a win is a win!!!
Did you outline the whole story when you started? did you stick to all the original ideas? if you changed your mind what were they?
i got the idea for a modern au break up fic in 2020 while I was writing and posting wtsioa. i started the story as a 20k one shot and then realized 5k into it or less that it was not going to fit into that word count. the reason was very simple: i did not want a break up fic centered around "miscommunication" in a naive, fluffy way. i did not want to write a fic where the main issue was that one loved the other too much or that they thought the other was cheating when it wasn't true, etc. i wanted to write a break up that felt honest to me, and this meant giving them both issues that felt real, that i saw in myself and in the people around me irl. which meant that it would take them both considerably more than 5k to get over them (if they ever did).
i outlined the fic very roughly. my first drafts . . . they are not it, girl. like, anyone that has read wtsioa knows that. I'm a much better editor than I am a writer, so for hiuh i outlined the main beats (nicaise calls damen after months, damen goes to therapy, nicaise is out of control and some incidents happen, laurent is dating maxime, they get back together). then, i wrote the entire thing in . . . a year? maybe less? then, i made a mistake and got cocky: i edited the first three chapters and started posting on ao3. that's why the fic took so long to post. i had to edit each chapter a lot after the first three were released.
i edited out too many things to count. things you wouldn't believe if I told you now because they make no sense when looking at the finished version. idalia was a pretty big character, and so was jokaste. in the og outline, I debated between claude/heavy drugs for nicaise. i almost named dog NIKANDROS!!!! damen actually punched aktis at the party when he talks shit about laurent . . . which led to him also punching nik. laurent slapping nicaise once. aimeric and damen baking together. then, there were things I wanted to write but couldn't because they didn't feel very real to me, despite being the best self indulgent daydream scenarios ever: damen hunting claude down (yeah, ruth wanted this to happen), dog getting sick, aimeric's EVERYTHING lol, nik and nicaise talking, etc.
thank you for sending this ask and reading the story through all the ups and downs and... lack of updates on my end!!! it has been the best experience ever, knowing that someone out there is reading and cares about what I made. thank you!!!!!!!!
#anon#hiuh#about the epilogue: i feel you#someone asked me what lamen telling nicaise would look like#but I WANNA KNOW WHAT THE PEOPLE WANT OKAY#bc i already know what happens inside my head#some people were pissed about the cut off ending but i think it just gives the story such a hopeful note
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Sigh
Quin im going thru my tabs bc between my phone and laptop i had like 100+ open and im just
I’m dying dude
So many things I open, read, die, and then don’t close xD
I’d say on my laptop at least 1/3 were things from you lmao
Anyways im closing some of these tabs that have some yummy art and i know you’ve seen but pls enjoy again bc i am thinking about thatchy boy tonight
Like
Like????
This one really fucks me up
There’s just such a good dynamic between the two of them and I’m off to think about getting smushed between them
Throwback to this bc I’m not ok 🫠🫠🫠
Off to run some computer scans now that my stuffs cleaned up a bit, hope your day goes well 🫡🫡🫡🫡
I am always okay with seeing yummy art no matter how many times I may have already seen said yummy art - so thank you for sharing it again xD \o/
Gods yes, though, man. I swear all the talk lately and y'all are making me want to write out a full on 5-some reader fic with the 1st, 2nd, 4th, and I believe 16th division commanders.
Maybe not necessarily a yandere story, and honestly not a canon one. >.> Maybe I could crib a popular VN idea and have a sort of "Please choose one of my sons to marry" and it's just chapters and chapters of delightful romance stuff with the four of them, and at the end it's not just "oh gods I can't pick" it's "don't worry, we've decided to share" and
like
RELEASE THE SMUT! \o/
Bonus wedding chapter >.>
... godsdammit.
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just a looong ramble analysing and rethinking Rey's character and turning whatever conclusions I get to into my headcanon without changing any plot points in TFA because I don't have the energy for that....
First things first. With everything I write here and publish on my blog from now on I refuse to believe that TROS ever existed. Everyone is free to have their personal opinions as long as they don't harass or hate on anyone, and this is mine. Almost every choice in that movie has left me scarred, even up til now, 4 years after its release. I thought I can ignore it, like any other healthy human being, but - oh boy, I cannot. If you are interested in reading another ramble on that, here's the post.
Since I am writing my own take on what could happen after TLJ (you may call it a fanfiction, I'm gonna call it a fanscript since that's gonna be its format), this post serves the purpose of getting my head clear around what's the deal with Rey, analysing, and lying down a solid foundation for my WIP. The story I'm writing has barely reached the end of Act I (out of III) at the moment I am composing this commentary, and I constantly notice that I get stuck with Rey's character every time I have to think about her for different reasons I will address down below.
I will make some rewrites as I see fit and necessary along the way for her character to make sense to me. All rewrites are in Tumblr's
chat style
This post will be linked to my AO3 fancifction as a reference for people to understand how I treat her character as soon as that one will be finished... *clears her throat* ...ANYWAY-
Let's have a look at Rey, shall we?
Rey's introduction.
When we first meet Rey, there is already a lot we get to learn about her. She's a scavenger. On a pretty much deserted desert planet. Water and food are scarce. She gathers parts during the day to sell them in exchange for food rations.
She has no friends, no family. She's lonely. And has been for quite a while. And yet, though hard, it looks like a pretty peaceful and stable life. If it were significantly different, we would have gotten introduction scenes of her battling some gangs or other scavengers for parts or something. But instead we were provided with beautiful, peaceful cinematography and John Williams' incredible score.
She manages. She manages because she has to and has never known to do otherwise. This on its own is already a very solid introduction. And it becomes even more powerful as we are provided with additional context later on, as she tells BB-8 that she's waiting for her family.
We know who she is, what she does and what she wants. No more questions, right?
Well, this is where it gets confusing, at least for me: there's one shot in Rey's introduction which always leaves me puzzled about her actual wants. It's the moment she puts on the rebel pilot helmet.
Maybe I am reading too much into it, but it feels like it kinda wants to draw parallels to Luke Skywalker in ANH? What exactly is the purpose of this shot? Is she putting on the helmet just for fun? Is it to show that she is still a kid inside? She seems to enjoy herself. Is it to show us that she maybe wants to be a pilot...? The gesture on its own is too little information to imply that, let alone that she already is a very skilled one, so probably no. Then, is it, perhaps, to show us that she dreams of more? Like Luke, who wanted to get off the planet that is "farthest away from the bright center of the universe"?
The interpretations, especially when looking at it in context to the rest of the movie could go on and on and on.
Quick detour.
The reason it works so well with Luke's character is because from the very beginning, with everything he does and says, it is perfectly clear that he doesn't want to stay on Tatooine. It's his only want when we first meet him.
Luke has friends who tell him about the galaxy. He seeks adventure.
And he's very impatient about it.
Everything he says basically SCREAMS how much he hates it there.
Now back to Rey.
Am I expecting Rey to show the same interest in getting off Jakku with the same attitude and level of energy as Luke, should that have been what TFA was going for? No, of course not. They are (supposed to be) two different characters after all. But I do believe that, given the setup, that helmet scene leaves too much room for confusing and unnecessary interpretation. (More so because I am trying my best to avoid nostalgia bait wherever I can.)
I am not denying the fact that she wouldn't have heard about the wider galaxy, that she wouldn't wonder about what it would feel like, being out there. People travel. And with people traveling, so do stories. So if you want to hint at that, do it subtly, all the while keeping the focus on her biggest want.
I might really just be reading too much into it, but still, in my humble opinion, a way to solve this confusion is cutting out her interaction with the pilot helmet completely. Let me demonstrate.
Inside her home we already see this self-made rebel pilot puppet. Just like the puppet lying around, instead of having her pick it up and putting it on,
the helmet remains part of the environment, stuck in the sand. There could even be a close-up on it as Rey puts down her empty plate next to it when she has finished eating if you really want to show it. She then rests her arms on her knees and looks up into the sky, following the ship that has just departed from the far outpost into the high atmosphere until it disappears. Waiting.
What is achieved by changing the interaction with the helmet is that it keeps her wants just as clear as Luke's. Luke wants adventure. She wants her family back. Period.
...I rewatched this scene after writing these paragraphs and yes, I admit, in the end it happens so fast that one could probably just let it pass and interpret it as Rey being very bored and using it as entertainment to wait out the days. But even if it were just that, the effects this little tweak would have on the following scenes is quite interesting to look at nonetheless.
The tweak I am going with from now on: Having her not actively wonder about possible adventures at all. She doesn't believe those stories to actually be true, because she's never allowed herself to. She's never allowed herself to actually want to ever leave Jakku.
What would it mean for her characterisation? It would make her slightly more serious and grounded. And the movie (except for the helmet scene) actually already treats her that way. Notice how she, while fixing BB-8's antenna, takes a moment to look at him before asking:
She's never seen such a droid before. At least not in such good condition. So, of course, she's curious. But when BB-8 says it's classified, she only laughs about it. "Classified? Really? Me too. Big secret," as if to say, haha, yeah, right. She rejects that possibility. And she doesn't bother asking any further, because when she is confronted with the choice to go and explore, she is reminded of her promise to herself, which is that she will wait for her family until they return.
Now, here is where I insert some very subtle "rewriting". When Rey first meets Finn, she is suspicious of him...
...and should actually remain suspicious,
instead of admiring him and falling into this, let's call it, "excited, fangirly smile"...
She doesn't know him. She has no reason to trust him. Instead, the tone of this line should be one that reflects her emotions as it slowly gets to her that those stories she's been hearing about might actually have some truth to them, that there might actually be a wider world out there. So make her be gradually interested.
Huh. This man I just forcefully hit to the ground, a Resistance fighter, knows about BB-8 and his classified information. What are the odds of that?
"So you're with the Resistance?" Rey asks suspiciously, looking down at the man.
The man stands up, brushes the sand and dust off his jacket and answers, "Obviously. Yes, I am. I am with the Resistance."
Rey frowns, "I've never met a Resistance fighter before," scanning him with her eyes. Why would there be any on Jakku? Nothing ever happens here.
"Oh, this is what we look like, some of us. Others look different."
Rey cannot help a little smile at his strange attitude. She looks back to where BB-8 rolled off to. Puzzled, she tells him, "BB-8 says he's on a secret mission. He has to get back to your base..." Even hearing herself pronounce that out loud feels so surreal to her. None of this makes any sense. Why-
"Apparently he has a map that leads to Luke Skywalker and everyone's after it."
What? "Luke Skywalker?" she asks, confounded.
CUT TO ACTION.
Whether she wants it or not, the plot forces her into the stories she's been hearing of. You don't want to believe they are real? They're real, all right. She has no choice but to run and get along. And later, she does get more and more interested, specifically when she meets Han Solo, the legend himself. Her whole beliefs turn upside down. It's exciting and she embraces it. Why? She's made a promise to BB-8 that she will get him home, and those things kinda come hand in hand.
Rey's physicality.
Rey is very fast to jump into action. She doesn't think twice about what she's doing. She just acts. Because that's how she's learned to survive all this time on her own. When she but hears BB-8 struggling in the distant sand dunes the first time they meet, she immediately reacts and goes to help (which also shows how compassionate she is towards people - and droids - in need of help).
And she's incredibly stubborn about it. If I may even word it like this: it's something she carries with pride.
So she's a good fighter. And I have but one request: DO. NOT. FORGET. THAT. HER. FIGHTING. STYLE. IS. ROUGH. AND. DIRTY. AND. HAS. NO. TECHNIQUE. WHATSOEVER. WHILE. THE. STORY. PROGRESSES. OK? Ok. What else? Ah, yes. Piloting. I don't know which of the two aspects has brought more uproar in the SW community, with the addition of the Force to these 2 points making people call her a Mary Sue, her being overpowered and so on. Let's have a look at that.
Rey's piloting skills.
She obviously knows her way around the Falcon. And it's plausible. "This ship hasn't flown in years!" It's been there for quite a while. Maybe she has had the opportunity to sneak onto it once. What about her flying skills? Well, that takeoff definitely had me worried. At this point I am even amazed this ship is still all in one piece. Which has me thinking... just a thought...
While trying to get those TIEs off their tail, Rey damages a visibly big part of the Falcon's exterior. "Ups," she comments, hastily checking the controls. Ok... The ship still flies. All good.
"What was that?" Finn calls from the gunner position, seriously worried for their lives.
"Nothing to worry about!" Rey quickly shouts back. All in all, the flight is messy as hell, and the Falcon needs some heavy repairs. But they still manage to get out.
"Nice shooting!"
"That was some flying! How did you do that?"
"Thanks! I don't know! I've flown some ships, but I've never left the planet."
(This is me reacting to their dialogue in the new context:) Yeah, guys, good work! You've almost destroyed the Falcon in the process, but you're alive, so I guess it's fiiiiiine.
What am I going for here? Adding to their level of expectations, which are... pretty low, and hopefully Rey's likability.
And then, later, Han is horrified of the state his ship is in, "Who did that?"
Rey doesn't answer his question, but instead immediately offers her help, "I can fix that for you," feeling a bit ashamed of handling the ship of a legend this carelessly. And Han is... well, Han about it.
When would the Falcon get those repairs, you might ask? Eh, *hand gesture* there's plenty of time on D'Quar for that while they discuss how to blow up the third Deathst- *clears her throat* Starkiller Base. And obviously it's not gonna be Rey doing those repairs.
This addition tones down her abilities, puts more focus on her skills as a scavenger and makes her more relatable. I'd also argue that it puts more weight to her decision to eventually decline Han's offer to join the crew because of her wants. You see, once immersed into the real thing, the stories becoming true, meeting the legends, she becomes genuinely curious. She asks questions. Why did Luke leave? What fight? She gets incredibly excited when Han offers her a job. And yet, despite all, she still wants to go back.
Nevertheless, Rey displays pretty amazing piloting skills under those stressful circumstances on Jakku. After all, flying the Falcon is....
Her instincts are implacable. One might even say that she*
She just isn't aware of it yet. It is not until some scenes with Han and the rathtars later that we get the first hint.
The Force.
Now I might be wrong, but I have a theory, which is that the piloting performance under high pressure on Jakku might have been it. The Awakening.
The Force calls to Rey through Luke's lightsaber. And she listens to it, not knowing what will follow. She experiences the Force vision, and is horrified.
"That lightsaber was Luke's, and his father's before him, and now, it calls to you!"
"I have to get back to Jakku." Again.
Even when Maz tells her, "You already know the truth. Whomever your waiting for on Jakku, they are never coming back,"
she still refuses to believe that.
Tears run down her cheeks
and she shakes her head. No.
"But there's someone who still could."
Rey frowns. What is Maz implying there? "Luke?" she asks and realises what it's leading up to, and doesn't like it. Her emotions are a mess. She gulps back and keeps shaking her head as Maz speaks.
"The belonging you seek is not behind you. It is ahead. I am no Jedi, but I know the Force. [...] The light. Feel it. [...] The lightsaber. Take it."
Rey doesn't want to hear of it. Any of it.
"I am never touching that thing again!"
Rey just witnessed complete horror. She is in denial. Keep in mind her clear wants from the beginning of the movie. Ideally her want for her parents to come back should be replaced by the character fulfilling her needs at the end of her arc. But we're not nearly there yet. What Maz tells her about the Force completely contradicts Rey's experiences. She cannot just accept the truth. And how does she handle it? She runs away. She's terrified.
She wants to go back to the way things were before any of this mess started. But the plot doesn't let her run away that easily. It knows she has to face her fears, one being her fear of the Force and one the fear of perhaps never making it back to Jakku ever again.
It forces her further into these situations, making it impossible for her to get out of them. She's trapped. Literally and figuratively. And fighting her way out won't work this time, the one ability she always relied on to save herself. It's her darkest moment. And if that were not enough, Kylo Ren, this stranger, this man inside that mask, the man from her vision, shoves all her insecurities right into her face.
"And Han Solo." Rey jolts up. Either out of fear of possibly betraying Han and slipping, giving away a location, or out of rage that Kylo has gone too far into her personal space. Either way, this rage gives her some strength to oppose him. "You feel like he's the father you never had. He would have disappointed you."
"Get out of my head!" He backs away for his own reasons, not wanting to think any more of his father, but still holds onto her mind. Rey does all she can to withstand him, and the longer she does, the more time it gives her to understand what is going on.
And Kylo senses it. What he's trying to do here is not working. Concern washes over his face, which makes him lose control over the situation. The connection opens, inviting Rey to tap into his mind. She's inside his head. Now she understands. She understands she can use this power on him, too. So she does.
And there it is. She's strong with the Force.
And that's intentional. Why? For reasons we discover in TLJ and numerous other fanfictions. (TROS? w-what's that-)
She has found a way out of the situation. Now, has she ever heard of Jedi mind tricks? Maybe? But remember what she just discovered: She just tapped into Kylo's mind. So she tries that again on the stormtrooper. Because when she knows how to act, she just does. She's always been confident in her physical abilities and skills. Why would she have to treat this new power any different? And luckily it works, after 3 tries.
And that's fine. Let's move on. Kylo kills Han. Explosions.
Notice this. Even though she knows she now has these new powers, the same powers Kylo has, she still draws her blaster at him after calling him a monster. She acts on emotion and choses the quick, familiar way.
I actually like to believe that Rey really doesn't know what the Force is and how it works, at all. How would she? Yes, Maz did tell her about it, but how do Force-powers manifest in people? She's never seen anyone use it before, upon meeting Kylo Ren. So in every scene she does use it, she just copies Kylo. That's the only reference she has. Remember how proud she is of her physical abilities. And she is so naive that she just goes and tries it for herself, without thinking of whether it will work out or not. And it works out for her. Because, again, she is strong in the Force.
It's true that her flaw, her naivety, is not really addressed in TFA. It never really backlashes on her. And, to be completely honest, I have no idea how to make room for that without some heavier rewrites yet. But maybe it's not necessary. TLJ takes care of that. TFA just introduces us to Rey as a character after all.
Now, is the force-summoned lightsaber making her overpowered? If you interpret it as "Kylo couldn't get that thing out the snow but Rey could," then yes, yes it is.
BUT, if you see it as "while Rey is observing the fight, she sees Kylo trying to summon it, so she copies him, the way she copied him with the mind-tapping, and reaches for it the moment Kylo conveniently gets it out of the snow for her," I don't think it is, though I do agree that in order for the second version to be true, the scene happens too fast with too little shots to explain it. *OP takes a breath* So, here is what I suggest:
Kylo reaches out for the lightsaber. SHOT of the lightsaber in the snow, fidgeting slightly. BACK TO Kylo, pulling anew. BACK TO the lightsaber. It gets free. CUT. Another shot of it flying through the air towards the camera.
SHOT on Rey witnessing that - she is already on her feet again - and immediately reaching for it as well, outstretching her arm towards it.
SHOT of Kylo as he feels the momentum of his pull shift and dodges out of the way. The lightsaber flies past him, into Rey's hand.
Rey has always been fast to react to action. So it would make sense for her to be able to do that. Ok. Now to the fight itself.
*sighs* I don't even know where to start. ...One thing's for sure. Kylo at this point is pretty much destroyed emotionally from having killed his father, but he's still big and strong and aggressive in his movements. Rey, on the other hand, kinda seamlessly knows how to handle a lightsaber, which... is definitely not believable at all.
Let's step back for a moment. Why do we have this fight? Rey needs to get Finn and herself out of there and Kylo is pretty much in the way, so she wants to eliminate the problem. And what does Kylo want? Sure, he is interested in Rey and her raw powers which eventually adds up to them being equals in the Force, so he doesn't want to kill her...
But he also wants that lightsaber, doesn't he?
(God, I am looking at this fight to find any clues and I'm just sitting here, elbows on the table, resting my head in my hands, massaging my temples, wondering, "why the hell are there so many cuts in that fight scene?") (I am no expert in fight choreography, so bare with me as I try to make this work.)
Rey is the one who draws first at him.
She has never wielded a lightsaber before, but knows how to handle a staff... so she treats the lightsaber like a staff within its limitations.
Because remember, HER. STYLE. OF. FIGHTING. IS. ROUGH. AND. DIRTY. AND. HAS. NO. TECHNIQUE. WHATSOEVER. So, pretend we have some well thought out choreography in this part.
Kylo blocks her with ease. Rey is frustrated. The lightsaber feels heavy and difficult to handle. It doesn't take long for Kylo to
get her cornered at the edge of the newly formed cliff.
"You need a teacher! I could show you the ways of the Force!" he exclaims.
Rey considers, out of breath, "The Force?" Rey takes a moment as her mind connects the dots. So that's what these new powers are? Kylo watches her, waits for her to make a move.
No time for pondering about the Force any more. Rey moves. Kylo LETS her duck and free herself from his block. She runs, backs away from the crater. He follows her. He outstretches his arm. Rey is stuck. She's literally petrified. Again.
Kylo draws nearer. He twirls his saber, now holding it backwards (you know, Ahsoka style). "No," she hisses through her teeth, struggling. Heavy breaths. She closes her eyes.
When he almost touches her hand holding the lightsaber, "No!" she RESISTS his force-cage and GOES FREE.
Because, you see, even though Maz told her to "close her eyes" and "feel the light", Rey has never done that before, and when under stress, I do believe she would rather choose a quick, familiar way to get out of the situation. The only thing she knows how to do with the Force at this point is to copy or resist Kylo. She wouldn't know how to to draw power from the Force, yet. She'll have plenty of time to learn that from Luke later, should she survive this fight, so we better continue.
Kylo stumbles back as she draws at him. Rey goes for a swing to hit from above, which Kylo manages to block last second, bringing his lighsaber up from behind his back.
As their lightsabers are crossed again he quickly reaches for her right hand, which is holding Luke's saber, with his left hand and moves it aside to his right towards the ground, using his crossguard for more momentum to force her down. He steps his left foot accordingly to keep himself stable. Rey cries out from the unexpected movement. They are kinda back to back. His left shoulder against her right one. The position is uncomfortable. He squeezes Rey's wrist. Rey cries out in pain. Then, she realises how close they are.
Time for some close combat, ladies and gentlemen.
She gives in and lets go of the lightsaber, lets it fall to the ground. Kylo releases her to reach for the fallen lightsaber. But before he can pick it up, Rey KICKS his left hand away with her right heel and PUNCHES his JAW with her right elbow from below. Kylo's head rocks back. He stumbles backwards from the harsh impact, causing him to turn his back to her in order to catch himself. Rey summons Luke's lightsaber back into her left hand, and ignites it. When Kylo turns back to his opponent, left and unprotected side first, Rey is ready to stab him in his left shoulder.
Kylo stumbles back some more, she brings her hands together for another strike leftwards, he barely blocks it, he stumbles back some more, it leaves his posture open, Rey strikes again, rightwards, lower this time, wounding his leg, he falls to his knee, leaving Rey the final blow to provide him with his scar.
The reason I started writing this entire ramble in the first place is a conversation I had with my friend which brought up the fact that Rey should be able to beat Kylo by using her rough, unpredictable moves. Shout out to my friend who, bless her, is willing to listen to and survives every one of my sw rants and who pointed this out in the first place!
Is this a good fightscene now? I have no idea. I hope so? I do have it very clear in my head now though, so I might go and have some fun storyboarding it in the nearest future.
You know the rest. The ground splits, she runs to Finn, Chewie picks them up. . . .
There are some more moments which I believe need some tweaks, like the meeting with Leia, which is just so unfair to Chewie, really, but if I go on and on about this, I would end up changing the entire movie, which I do not have the strength for atm. This ramble was supposed to be about Rey and her alone, so I am done here.
I guess in the end Rey does realise her needs and is able to let her wants aside for a bit longer and focus her hope on actually helping the Resistance and get Luke. Hope that, with finding Luke, she will get to understand these new powers. I do feel like the movie could have provided us with a more emotionally rich reactive scene to the fight and her abilities, and generally just more of those, but then, what am I expecting from a JJ Abrams film? We have Rian for that.
My conclusion? I'm bad with conclusions and summaries, so here you have it, my take on Rey by only adding to the existing dialogue, changing some attitudes here and there, adding a scene, and changing the fight sequence at the end and how she treats the Force.
I do have a clearer understanding of her character now, which was the entire purpose of this ramble, so I guess, mission accomplished. Congratulations on having made it till the end. It was a long ride. I did consider splitting this beast into 2 parts, but while writing this, at one point I just decided to fully commit to it.
You are totally free to, of course, agree with me and stay tuned for my WIP fanscript or disagree, never read through this thing ever again, ignore it and leave it to die on Tumblr's graveyard.
Before you ask, because I also considered doing that just for the sake of having fun with GIFs on Tumblr (all text gifs are taken from YARN btw), I will not do a post like this on TLJ, since I have no problems with Rey's character there at all. Props to Rian Johnson at this point, for managing to make sense of her with what TFA gave us.
#rey#rey nobody#the force awakens#the force is strong with this one#character analysis#character rewrite#headcanon#this is my headcanon now#ramble#long ramble#long reads#have i mentioned it's long?#star wars#star wars fanfiction
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Hi, reading the All Will Be One story and I was wondering about how much creative freedom you have when writing? If you can say that, of course. Like, I figure you don't decide which planeswalkers get oiled, but do you decide how they get oiled or is that decided by higherups?
Oh, man. I love doing Magic Story so much it is so much fun, and I am really grateful that you understand that there's going to be stuff I can't say about how it all happens. At the end of the day, I trust the current story team to treat these characters respectfully, and I want to stay part of the process, which sometimes means leaving things out.
So the way this works is that someone from Story will go "hey are you available for a story/a set/more work?" and I will say either yes or no. At this stage, I don't even know what the code name for the set is going to be, much less where it's set/which characters are involved/etc. I sign an updated NDA, and have a talk with Story in which I'm given more details, the set code name, and the plane we're going to be on.
One of the big details I get is story beats. So for example, in "Tangles," I was told I would be writing for Wrenn and Teferi, and I needed them to meet and work together, such that they would be positively inclined toward each other in the future. In the current story, the beats I got included "these are the planeswalkers you have to work with, these are the ones who get oiled," and a few of the specific situations in which it happened. I had to flesh things out from there.
I write a detailed outline, and run it through my editors. They kick it back. I revise it, and try again. Three to twelve rounds later, we have a finalized outline that matches the story beats they asked for and the logical connective tissue I settled on. I then follow this outline religiously during the writing process.
Main set stories are, generally, five episodes long, with five side stories, not written by the same author(s) as the main story, which is all one person to make it easier to stay consistent. We don't necessarily get to see the other stories (in Dominaria United, where I wrote "Homecoming," I didn't know anything about the main story, for example, and in All Will Be One, I didn't see any of the side material. So it's new to me when it's new to you, which is kinda fun).
Now, the part I struggle with: word counts. Each of those five stories gets to be 5,000 words long. I pretty consistently go over that limit, because 5,000 words is not long enough. At the same time, writers are paid, and there are budgetary concerns in play. Keep in mind that Magic Story is free, but it doesn't happen for free. Writers, editors, copyeditors, and sensitivity readers are all involved, and all need to be paid. So saying "we can only afford to pay you for 5,000 words of fiction" isn't anyone being cheap, it's a free service having a reasonable budget.
After I finish writing the story beats I was given and the story flesh I designed, the story goes off to be edited, and will pass through several rounds before it can go for copy edits and sensitivity reading. Again, there are several rounds in play. And each round is an opportunity for errors to creep in. Maybe I wrote a coherent sentence that contained a phrase I didn't know was offensive, and it got changed after my part was over, so now it's disjointed. Maybe I was asked to cut 300 words at the last minute, and created some sentence fragments in the process. I try very hard not to let this happen, but it's the way of fiction. Ironically, I still accept that all these rounds of review make things better, even as they can introduce problems.
After this is finished, the stories go away until we finally reach the set release and they start coming out, and my friends start yelling at me for keeping secrets. I respect and adore my NDAs, and want to keep working with Magic Story for a long time yet to come!
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Set me free. A battle cry.
I still think it’s too soon for me to be voicing my thoughts on Set Me Free Pt. 2 but there’s so much going on in my head I have to let some of it out. I’m not an expert on music, the writing or production of it, or on choreography, or on K-pop. What I am is an appreciator and observer of art. And I attempt to express in words my emotions and thoughts while viewing the art.
First of all... OH MY FUCKING GOD.
Now that I got that out of the way, I want to say I am so proud of Jimin: #1 on U.S. iTunes with all those other releases happening at the same time. And #1 Trending Now on YouTube. Also I think I saw fastest 100 #1′s on iTunes globally EVER (thank you for correcting me). But I know these charts are not the motivation behind his art.
So it begins with some angst with dramatic choir vocals... building up to a crescendo. The music includes a siren-like sound... things are getting critical. The dancers writhing and mimicking screams, invoking chaos, turmoil, pain and anguish.
And then Jimin appears suddenly and the dancers at once jump into order... chaos/order.
It’s like Jimin’s own psyche with the two sides fighting within.
The choreo tells the story of the lyrics: “I wandered in a maze, Hennessy and night.” On a path searching for the prize/end and especially these past few years, living a life full of luxury. We know Jimin is a night owl (maybe that is too literal of an interpretation perhaps).
The autotune vocals add texture and are reminiscent of different voices talking in his head. It’s like using his own voice to role play his different emotions/colors within him: “Finally free; AH YEAH, AH YEAH; I’m standing at the edge; NOT YET, NOT YET; I won’t look back; NOW YEAH, NOW YEAH; fly away, butterfly, finally free” ...
The choreo here where he mimics a butterfly with his body, fluid and lithe. I literally expected him to levitate during this dance move.
“Going insane to stay sane. Raise your hands for the past me. Now set me free.” This is where I literally cried. Oh, Jimin.
The dancers representing the world around him... at the same time are the confines of his vocation as well as his comrades... part of the constriction and also his saviors. His freedom as well as his box. Chaos and order.
At 1:52 the scene goes dark and one of the dancers reaches over to Jimin’s torso and I am assuming at some point, we will see this is deliberate for a reason. When the lights come back up they are a different color, colder, Jimin’s torso is bare with the words of the poem marching across his body in very straight orderly lines (needless to say, my jaw hit the floor).
It is as if the color of the light represents both sides. Hot chaos. Cold order. I think this part of the song is his inner turmoil. It has a different voice. Very angry. Very aggressive. Nothing like the Jimin we’ve known up until now.
The dancers pointing at him, his naysayers. That’s right Jimin, tell them to fuck off. He’s played by the rules up until now. It’s his turn to flip the table and upend what we’ve known. And wow, he succeeded.
The dancers lifting their fists and arms as if in triumph.
Jimin letting himself be offered up to the sky...the lifting and reaching for the sky/heaven.. higher and higher...
The resurrection of New Jimin at the end. The direct defiant stare at us. With his back to us. What is he saying? He’s moving on? Are we following? We better get our fighting gear on and go.
The visuals, his attitude. So many elements: the numerology, the golden spiral (fibonacci sequence), the set mimicking the panopticon. A prison. Caged like a beautiful bird. A place he entered of his own free will but ended up being a place where he was put on display to be criticized and judged for not being what everyone thinks he should be.
Knowing some of Jimin‘s history, knowing a little bit about his personality and seeing how all of this has come together in this piece of art he’s created just makes me appreciate him even more as the deep thinker he is, a highly talented artist, singer, and dancer, and especially a deeply feeling human being.
I don’t ever recall anything like this making me overcome with shock or being moved to tears or being made to feel so many different things in the span of three minutes and forty-four seconds as I did last night.
The nature of art itself is to draw out your emotions. To move you. I was moved.
I am 100% certain on each subsequent time I listen to this song or watch the music video there will be something that will elicit something else within me and inspire another different thought or feeling.
And I know it could be because Jimin‘s solo work was so highly anticipated, so talked about and we didn’t know what to expect. We know he’s been working on it for well over a year and finally seeing the climax of it all, or at least the beginning of the climax, was very overwhelming to me. I mean, promo starts for Like Crazy tomorrow. LET US BREATHE! NO! BRING IT ON!
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Charmed, I'm Sure
Chapter 25
Summary: No human has ever avoided Asmodeus's charm. Except for you.
Pairing: Asmodeus x GN Reader/MC
Genre: Drama, angst, a bit of fluff.
Warnings: Canon-typical violence in this chapter. There's an old skeleton I briefly describe at one point so death implied but not of any named or important characters.
***
Author's note: Charmed is officially one year old today and I just wanted to thank everyone who has read it so far. It's been really fun to write and show how much I love Asmo. I've really enjoyed reading all the feedback I've gotten and every comment on my fic no matter how short is so precious to me. Hopefully the story will be finished soon, there's not that much left to go!
***
Levi, Mammon, and Beel came barreling through one of the corridors, screaming.
“OH MAN OH MAN OH MAN OH MAN IT'S GONNA EAT US! LIKE, FOR REAL!” Mammon cried.
The huge, teal snake was hot on his heels, hissing angrily, its hood expanded on either side of its head to appear even bigger. Like a giant cobra. It easily slithered over the vines on the floor, navigating them quickly and avoiding holes in the tile while still seeking its target. It seemed to know this area very well.
“Gah...it's giant. And disgusting!” Asmo wrinkled his nose. “Ugh, I hate having to look at unattractive things.” He released you, the snake’s presence was a real turn-off. Maybe there would be time to pick up where he left off later. Assuming everyone made it out of the labyrinth alive.
“Hey, how 'bout you stop talkin' and HEEEEEELP!”
“I am a fan of eating, but l'm not interested in being eaten.” Beel dodged the snake’s fangs.
“As if we didn't already have enough problems as it is, they had to go and bring us another one.” Solomon shook his head. “Well, we'd better get out of here.”
“Get out of here and go where, exactly?!” Levi nearly tripped over a vine as he scrambled out of the way.
“Just shut up and follow me.” Solomon grabbed your wrist and started running down one of the corridors without waiting for the others.
These halls looked nearly identical to the ones you came from and the further you went, the more you really hoped Solomon hadn't somehow led the group in a circle. You tried to take note of certain identifying features as you went: a statue over here, ancient runes left by some poor wandering prisoner over there, empty chrysalises from vampiric butterflies littering the ceiling, anything to tell the passages apart.
Several minutes of running at top speed left you and Solomon out of breath. The demons behind you seemed a little better off, although Levi was trailing behind quite a bit. The snake wasn't that far behind him, hissing and thrashing its tail as it maneuvered expertly through the labyrinth.
Solomon pressed forward, taking a few quick, sharp turns before pulling you into a narrow chamber that branched off to the right so the two of you could catch your breath. The entrance was small, no bigger than an average doorway, too small for the snake to pass through. Probably.
The walls were lined with prison cell doors, a demon skeleton, half crumbled with age, sat in one of the cells. Its horned skull grinned at you with its somehow still white fangs and a blank stare and you tried to avert your eyes.
“Looks like we managed to lose it somehow.” Asmo leaned against one of the cell doors and pulled out his compact mirror, trying to fix his mussed hair under the low light.
“Yeah, but what're we s'posed to do now, huh? You expect us to hide here forever?” said Mammon. He had placed himself as far away from the entrance and the demon skeleton as possible.
“You're the one who woke that snake up, Mammon. You don't get to complain.” Beel grunted, pushing his sweaty hair back from his forehead. His hands were shaking as he slid to the floor, his back against the wall. Normally one of the strongest, his hunger was apparent in his physical symptoms.
“Hey, I didn't wake it up! I just saw a snakeskin lyin' on the ground and figured I'd sell it for a pretty nice sum!” Mammon protested. “But when I tried to grab it to take it with me, it turned out there was still a snake inside! That's when that monster suddenly came after us, all mad 'n stuff…”
“He's NOT a monster.” Levi dropped to his knees in exhaustion next to Beel, “He's Henry 1.0.”
Asmo snapped the compact mirror shut, his eyes wide, “What?”
“Henry...?” said Mammon, “Wait, you mean THAT Henry?!”
“Are you sure?” Beel asked.
Levi clutched his side, panting from the strain of all that running. “I know Henry when I see him. And that is Henry, no doubt about it. I can't believe I'd find him down here of all places.”
“Henry?” You asked. “What are you talking about?” The only Henrys you knew were the fictional one from TSL and Levi’s tiny goldfish back at the House of Lamentation.
“He's talking about the pet snake he used to have.” Said Beel. “Every time Levi gets a new pet, he names it Henry.”
“Um… I wanna say you're on your fourth Henry at this point, right?” Asmo chimed in.
“No, you're WAY off. I'm currently keeping Henry 2.0.” Levi adamantly corrected. “I kept Henry 1.0 in his glass case and took really good care of him, but one day he disappeared. How many years has it been, I wonder?”
So the snake chasing you had once been Levi’s pet. You suppressed a laugh, imagining Henry 2.0 somehow escaping unbeknownst to Levi and becoming a whale-sized goldfish. That scenario didn't seem that unlikely for the Devildom.
“I don't believe it. I never thought I'd see him again…” Levi was tearing up, “But here he is, alive and well-and he's gotten so BIG! Oh, it's such a relief. I'm so glad he's all right.”
“Well I sure ain't!” Mammon said.
“Anyway, I at least managed to snap a selfie with him as we were running away. Here, check it out!” Levi excitedly showed you the selfie on his now cracked D.D.D. screen, the motion blurred picture showed Levi’s proud smile as Henry brandished his fangs mid-hiss, only a few feet behind him in pursuit.
Solomon spoke up next, “If he used to be your pet, do you think there's some way to pacify him?”
“Nope, no way.” Levi frowned. “He looked like he'd forgotten me completely.”
“Well yes, I'd say so, considering he just tried to eat you…” Asmo gave him a pat on the shoulder for condolences.
“We should attack it.” Beel’s dark rimmed eyes flashed red for a moment, “We should take that thing down, then grill it up and eat it. I'm hungry.”
Levi grabbed Beel’s arm, “No! I won't let you hurt Henry 1.0! And he's NOT FOOD!” He was prepared to restrain his younger brother if need be.
“Okay then, what SHOULD we do? If we don't do somethin' about that snake, we're never gonna get outta here.” Mammon pointed to the entrance. Henry was slithering back and forth in the hall as if pacing the floor, his tongue flickering to taste the air. He was searching.
“Violence isn't the answer.” You said, lowering your voice and giving Levi a reassuring glance.
“Thank you.” said Levi, matching your volume. “MC is the only person making sense right now.”
Solomon peeked out the doorway, “We don't necessarily need to hurt Henry to get out of here. There's another strategy we could try.”
Asmo clung to Solomon’s arm, resting his head on the sorcerer’s shoulder to fawn over him, “Oh Solomon, I knew you'd come up with something! Not only are you good-looking, you're smart, too.” He tapped him on the nose.
“Thanks,” Solomon put his hands on Asmo’s shoulders, moving him back an arm’s length, a calculating look in his eye, “Alright, I'll be counting on you to make this work, Asmodeus.”
“Huh? ...Me?” Asmo looked incredulous.
“Ah, I see what he's thinkin! While that snake is chewin' on Asmo, the rest of us can make our escape!” said Mammon.
Asmo scoffed. “Uh, no. That should be YOUR job, Mammon. As the stupidest one among us, it's only right.”
“Oh no, nuh-uh!” said Levi, “No feeding Mammon to Henry 1.0! He'll get a tummy ache!”
“HEY! You guys are bein' REAL RUDE, ya know that?!” said Mammon.
“Are you thinking of using Asmo to mesmerize the snake?” Beel asked.
“Exactly.” said Solomon, “We should make use of Asmodeus's natural charm. If he can manage to tame Henry and win him over, then maybe he'd be willing to show us the way out of the labyrinth.”
Asmo thought for a moment. It did seem doable. And if he succeeded he was sure to get a lot of praise, hopefully from you.
From you? Why would he need or want praise from you? He brushed his hands against his pants as if trying to push that thought away. You and your praise didn't matter to him.
He still needed to get out of this labyrinth, though.
“Ah, okay...yes. Well, I suppose I could do that.” He sighed languidly, “You know, it really should be illegal to be so stunningly beautiful that you can even charm a snake. I'm so attractive sometimes I scare even myself.”
“Yikes.”
“Ah, so you find it scary too, Beel?” Asmo smiled, “I mean, I'm not surprised.”
“No, I said that because I think he just spotted us... Henry, I mean.”
The snake was flickering his tongue in the air right outside the doorway, his size preventing him from entering. He hissed and bobbed his head, trying to find another way in.
“Right! I'II begin by using my magic to amplify Asmodeus's powers.” Solomon rolled back his cuffs. “Then Asmo, you mesmerize Henry. The amplification process is going to take a bit of time. So Mammon,”
Asmo smirked, knowing exactly what would come next.
“Me?” Mammon protested, knowing exactly where this was going, “Why’s it gotta be me? Why can't one a’ them go?” He pointed over to Levi and Beel who both appeared to be at death’s door. There was no way either of them could safely follow through with the plan in the state they were in.
Solomon continued speaking, ignoring the ridiculous suggestion, “And MC, you two distract Henry in the meantime.”
Asmo’s eyes darted to you, his stomach flipped as Solomon said your name. “Wait,” he said.
“Something the matter?” Solomon quirked an eyebrow.
Asmo didn't know what to say. The idea of you facing Levi’s disgusting snake really bothered him. Mammon was a demon and could handle himself, but you were only human. You could get hurt. He looked down at his own clasped hands, “Um… I don’t–”
“Solomon,” you cut him off as the giant snake slithered closer to your hiding spot. “Will my bracelet protect me and Mammon from Henry?”
Solomon crossed his arms, letting out a breath in a whoosh. “I don’t know. The spell I cast on it was relatively simple so it’s hard to tell with a creature of Henry’s size.”
You took Mammon’s hand, lacing your fingers with his as he blushed and stammered, “Well, I guess there’s only one way to find out.”
You gave a confident smile, winking over your shoulder at Asmo.
Asmo’s jaw dropped. What a tease. Where did this MC come from? Surely this wasn't the timid human who had been living with his family for the past few months. There was such determination in your eyes. Maybe your reaction to seeing the Demon King’s portrait earlier wasn't naïveté but actual fearlessness. Asmo felt his heart rate quicken. That was kind of attractive.
“We have to work quickly before he figures out a way in,” said Solomon, snapping Asmo out of his own thoughts.
“Right,” You tossed a loose stone past Henry and it clattered on the floor on the other side of the corridor. Henry turned toward the sound and slithered away to investigate. You had your opening. “Come on, Mammon.”
“HEEEEY! What's the big idea pushin' me right out into its path?! I mean, come on!” Mammon complained loudly as you pushed him out of the comfort of your hiding place. His voice alerted Henry to your presence. The snake began to charge after you.
So reckless. You’d gone out there without a plan beyond “distract Henry.” Asmo bit his lip, frustration building inside him. He had the urge to pull you back into the safety of the cell block. When this was all over he swore he would lecture you like he had before, it didn't matter if the others were around. And if you cried this time he would just have to take you in his arms and–
“Okay, Asmo, I take it you're ready?” Solomon cast his hands out in front of him.
Asmo tore his eyes from you and Mammon running from the snake. He took a deep breath, he really needed to focus, now more than ever. Everything was riding on him. He had to at least do this for you, “Yep, go right ahead.”
“WHATEVER! JUST DO IT ALREADY!” Mammon yelped, swerving and darting from the snake’s fangs. The two of you were doing your best to keep Henry close enough to the center of the hall for Asmo to be able to work his magic when the time came.
You grimaced as Mammon squeezed your hand, pressing on the developing bruises Asmo had left earlier. You were yanked behind him as little more than a rag doll, barely having time to jump out of the way each time Henry struck.
Solomon spoke the incantation, “Denizens of the darkness, awaken! You who are born of shadow, hear me! I am the one called Solomon. I call upon you now to lend your power to Asmodeus, Avatar of Lust!”
Solomon’s magic warmed Asmo from the inside out. It was a familiar, exhilarating feeling that washed over him, one he’d grown to love over the centuries with his connection to the sorcerer. “Ooh yes, I LIKE this! I'm SO turned on right now!” The magic coursing through him really got his blood pumping. Sometimes a pact could be draining, but other times, like when he and Solomon were in sync with their goals, it felt so good!
“AAAAAH! HERE IT COMES HERE IT COMES HERE IT COMES!” Mammon dodged Henry one last time, pulling you against his chest in an attempt to shield himself from the snake. Unfortunately it seemed like your bracelet was doing very little to deter the creature. Henry rose to tower above you, hissing loudly.
You grasped at Mammon’s arms which were so tightly wrapped around you, and you braced yourself.
Asmo stepped out into the hall directly in front of you, his eyes shining with rose colored sparkles as he locked his gaze on the snake, “That's right, Henry. Look me in the eyes.” He cooed.
Henry stopped in his tracks, his tongue flicking out once.
“...Yes, that's a good boy.”
You peered over Asmo’s shoulder as the charm took hold, the snake’s eyes glowing that same shade of pink. Asmo continued speaking low, enticing whisperings to the snake who was completely enraptured.
After a moment, Henry began to hiss as if responding to Asmo.
“What's that now?” Asmo grinned, looking back at you over his shoulder before turning to Henry again. “Well, how about that. He says he'll show us the way out of the labyrinth!”
Asmo listened carefully as Henry let out a series of hisses, pointing his tail from time to time like one might do with their hands when describing directions of how to get somewhere. After a few minutes he stopped, tilting his head to indicate he was finished.
“You got all that, Solomon?” Asmo asked.
Solomon nodded. “Nice job, Asmo!”
“Well, really, did you expect anything less of me?” He preened.
Levi ran out into the corridor to fuss over his pet like a parent welcoming his long lost child home, his breathing finally returned to normal. “My Henry!”
Asmo got Henry to lower his head so Levi could give him a kiss between his eyes.
“How long do we have before the charm wears off?” Beel asked as he stood shakily. Henry stayed in place, obedient and still mesmerized.
Asmo tapped his chin with his finger. “Well for a human it usually lasts for a few days.” His eyes flickered over you briefly. “For a demon it can be a few hours. Especially lower level demons, they are so easy!”
“Henry ain't a demon, though.” Mammon pointed out.
“Yes, that’s right,” said Asmo. “Henry is a creature, an animal. Unintelligent. His brain isn't as developed as even a lowly human.”
“Hey!” Levi said, not sure if he felt insulted for you as a human, or for Henry.
Asmo continued musing. “But he’s a creature in possession of some magic, that’s clear from his size, most snakes even here in the Devildom won’t get that big… You know, I’m not sure. It could last months, it could last a few minutes.” Asmo giggled. “So we better get moving in case he wakes up!”
Asmo and Solomon led the way down the dark, twisting corridors, keeping at a fast clip as they went even further into the labyrinth. The vines here were beginning to thin out.
Solomon yanked Asmo’s arm as he went to make a wrong turn.
“What was that about?” Asmo yelped in pain. “Didn't Henry say ‘Sss ssss ss’? That means ‘turn left at the Minotaur statue.”
“Wrong dialect, that would be correct in sea snake but Henry is a land snake. He said go right.”
At the next turn, the hall appeared to be better maintained. It was brighter, with more torchlight, and the cobblestones floor was even and flat. The walls were decorated with mosaics of Devildom beasts and demons, similar to the one on the floor of that large chamber with the old chandelier, but there were no missing tiles here.
“He said there would be a gate…” Solomon said, “Right there!”
The large wrought iron gate was flanked by two ornate lanterns, the flames burning brightly with apparent magic. The circle of light illuminated what looked like some sort of cellar, with rows of shelves full of Demonus and jars of pickled foods and preserves. The gate was locked with a padlock, a magical signature emanating from it.
“Henry said this cellar is right under the castle.” Solomon touched the padlock and then recoiled as its magic shocked him. “We should call someone and let them know we’re down here.”
Asmo pulled out his D.D.D., frowning when he saw the screen. “There’s no service.” He held his phone up to see if he could find a signal.
Levi and Beel did the same.
“Nothing,” said Beel. He gazed longingly through the bars.
A far off rumbling sounded deep in the labyrinth in the direction your group had just come from.
“Is that–” you began.
“Henry just woke up,” Asmo confirmed.
“We ain’t got time to wait for someone to come down here.” Mammon slid a credit card sized, enchanted lockpicking set from his wallet and knelt on the floor in front of the gate. “Let’s hope whatever locking spell Barbatos has on this gate ain’t too strong.”
Mammon got to work unlocking the gate. Emerald green sparks flashed from the keyhole but as long as he touched the padlock only with the tools, he avoided getting shocked.
The rumbling was progressively getting louder, it seemed that Henry was out for revenge, angry that his prey had escaped him.
“How much longer?” Levi asked urgently.
“I’ve almost— AHH!” Mammon dropped the tension wrench, his hand bumping into the padlock and sending a shock up his arm with more green sparks. He fumbled for the tool and began again, “Ain't a lock out there that’s a match for The Great Mammon.” He said, trying to hype himself up.
Henry's shadow stretched across the wall in the torchlight, coming into sharp focus before he could be seen. He was close.
“Come on!” Asmo shook Mammon’s shoulder, “He’s almost here.”
“Will ya stop that?” Mammon shrugged off his brother's hand, jiggling the lock as he doubled his speed.
The lock dropped to the floor and the gate swung open just as Henry rounded the corner, hissing loudly as he spotted you, Solomon, and the demons.
“Everybody in!” Mammon pushed you through first, and letting everyone else go before him. He slammed the gate shut as Henry lunged at his heels.
You passed through the rows of shelves. Everything was meticulously organized, from the Demonus categorized by millennia to the Devildom root vegetables lining the back wall and the jars of preserved goods with their carefully written labels lined up by type in the middle.
Asmo swiped a jar of Barbatos’ homemade blue rose crystal pickles from one of the shelves and handed it to Beel.
“Thanks,” Beel said, opening it right away.
“I’m proud of you for keeping it together, hon,” said Asmo.
The cellar was dark with no torches to light the way but then you spotted the staircase with a single door at the top. “There it is!” You could practically taste your freedom.
Despite being the last one to go through the gate, Mammon was the first up the stairs. He frantically banged on the door. “Someone let us out!”
“Please!”
“Help us!”
The cellar door opened and everyone tumbled onto the floor of the castle’s kitchen where several Little D’s were preparing dinner.
“Welcome back.” said Barbatos.
***
Cross-posted on AO3
#charmed i'm sure#obey me#obey me shall we date#omswd#asmo#asmodeus#asmo obey me#asmodeus obey me#asmo x reader#asmo x mc#asmo x gn reader#asmo x gn mc#asmodeus x reader#asmodeus x mc#asmodeus x gn reader#asmodeus x gn mc#solomon obey me#mammon obey me#beelzebub obey me#leviathan obey me
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