#arch nemesies more like what are you arching? your back?? | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ccbunnv · 2 days

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hello!! I miss your old work with the villain Bill so much.. Please write something with the villain Bill! I don't care what it will be:smut/fluff/angst; whatever, but just please! If you don't want to write for this anymore, then I'll understand! I love you very much!!💖🫂

I would like to hug you too! it's so cute!!😭🥹

oh, you're so adorable!!! of course <33 i missed writing villain bill too ^^ slight nsfw! not smut.

˖°🦇ִ ࣪𖤐 villain! bill x fem! reader angst -> fluff

once upon a time, you were in love with your husband. he was a strong, gentle soul, who used his power for good. he didn't care about reputation, only about doing what was right.

he was a handsome, healthy man, with a heart of gold. loved by all, and despised by his arch nemesis. you remembered the wedding ceremony, how the white drapery decorated the church, how you walked down the aisle with your long train of ivory behind.

you were a happy, excited woman, who was ready to accompany her loving husband every step of the way.

but as time went on, he began to change. once that man with a sunny smile, turned into what could be described as a modern-day monster. an abomination of man.

he swore to never drink, but there he was, downing a can of ice cold beer. he swore to never use his power for evil, yet there he was, threatening the life of a man just for a night at the bar.

he swore to love you, yet he wound up spewing insults after insults to you, over the smallest of mistakes. he swore to never raise a hand and forever protect you, but he ended up breaking glass bottles over your head.

the man who you married was no longer. you didn't know what else to do anymore. you married young; a horrible mistake, and you didn't know what the world could hand you.

he had gotten so lazy, that his own attempts at saving your life grew lackluster. sometimes it'd take him weeks to get his butt off a chair to save you from his arch nemesis's hands.

even he began to question your worth in the eyes of this glorious hero.

his arch nemesis, Bill, was a man who used his power for evil. robbing banks, burning establishments, kidnapping, murder, stealing priceless goods...you name it, he's done it.

but even though he was considered evil, you had never met a man who worried for you more. your mother in law would tell you to suck it up in favour of her grown manchild.

your father in law praised his son, your husband, for his abusive treatment towards you. your own parents left you on seen for multiple days when you messaged them about it.

but Bill...oh, not Bill. never him.

he treated you sweetly. he was the first to ask if anything was going on at home. he cared for you during the weeks it took for your husband to save you.

it left you wanting to stay with Bill instead.

the feeling was gut wrenching. you really, really didn't know what to do. you were legally wed to this man, this horrid man, and yet you were wishing to be with his enemy instead.

you yearned for his hands to touch yours again, for his sweet voice to whisper, "it's okay." in your ear once more.

just once more, and it'd be fine.

you even began to wish to be abducted by him every other day. you'd wish for his monstrous creation to infiltrate the city and grab you by the waist, to bring you back to his evil lair.

the sun was covered by the clouds. the sky was a grey that made you think of Bill. the dishes in your hands slipped, and clattered on the floor, shards of pure white china scattering on the floor.

the loud clash brought you back to reality. your husband stepped in and upon seeing the mess, he yelled, "YOU USELESS BITCH! CAN'T YOU DO ANYTHING RIGHT!? DO YOU KNOW HOW EXPENSIVE THIS IS!?"

his hand wrapped around your hair, scraming in your ear as you held in tears, "THIS IS WORTH MORE THAN YOU! MORE THAN YOUR HEART, YOUR LIVER, YOUR EYES! DO YOU WANT ME TO GUT YOU OPEN AND GOUGE OUT YOUR EYES!?"

"no, no, I'm sorry," you apologised, choking back cries, "I'm sorry, I'm really sorry."

"sorry, sorry, sorry. what more are you good for than being a heater for my bed, bitch?" he sneered, "maybe I should make sure you never make this mistake again."

he knelt down and grabbed a shard of the broken china, and dug the sharp tip into your forearm. you screamed in pain as he dragged it down, forming a long, red wound.

it bled as he threw the shard on the floor and said, "do you understand now, whore? you disgusting slut...I don't even want to see your ugly face. you plague every inch of me."

"I'm not coming home." he said, turning around and leaving the house, probably to go to yet another brothel.

tearfully, you sat in the kitchen, helpless and abandoned. but you had to do something about the painful wound on your forearm. so you stood, and fished through the first aid cabinet to get the things you needed to fix the injury.

as you did so, you couldn't help but remember how Bill would do it for you. his gentle, skilled hands, wrapping the gauze around your thigh that held an obvious carving of his name.

the way he would hold your hand when the pain grew too worse. he brought you a sense of comfort. and you wanted him, despite how his morals were.

𓆩♱𓆪

it was just another monday. you had to run to the grocery shop for a quick errand of eggs and milk. the nights had grown worse, your body felt sluggish from the unending abuse, the eyebags under your eyes made a raccoon green with envy.

you finished your purchase and you left the grocery store, checking your eggs and milk, looking through the receipt so there was no unauthorised purchases that you didn't know about.

suddenly, a loud scream reverberated around the city. you snapped your head towards the direction of the scream, only to be greeted by a loud explosion.

you tried to back away, but you suddenly felt someone gripping your waist and pulling you away. people tried to fight against the perpetrator stealing you, but you noticed the hands.

the black french manicure, the black fingerless leather gloves...the distinct 'Freiheit '89' covered by the black sleeve...it was Bill.

your knight in shining armour. your saviour. your safety.

you couldn't help but rest your head against his shoulder as he brought you back into where you truly belonged—his evil lair.

when you heard the sound of metal doors moving open and closing, you knew you were back. he whispered in your ear, "seems like you're enjoying this, schatz."

you grew bashful, "sorry."

"no need to be sorry. there's a new wound I see." he responded, bringing you into his mansion and placing you onto a couch.

"yeah. I broke an expensive china, and..." you looked away, not wanting to remember the memory.

he looked at you pitifully, and gently placed his hand into yours, "other than that wound, is there anything else?"

"no, it's the usual." you whispered, looking down at him while he went on one knee to look at you properly.

his hand brushed against your cheek. your heart drummed in anticipation. his hand moved to your hair and gently combed his fingers through it.

"how could he ever do such a thing to you?" he asked softly, "a girl like you deserves to have everything."

"you're too beautiful to be left with a man like him." he said, looking into your eyes as he placed his lips upon your knuckles.

you blushed, "Bill, this is wrong..."

"I know what's wrong and what's right. I'm doing you a favour, meine liebe, say you'll go with me." he stated, "I'll treat you better."

"I'll love you better." he whispered, "and you just be mine."

your heart melted. he leaned in and pressed his forehead against yours, his lips inches away from yours. it was as if he read your mind when he kissed you.

sparks flew. you felt weak inside. you couldn't help but return the kiss, holding him closer. when you and him pulled away, he whispered, "say you'll go with me, bitte."

you nodded shakily, and whispered, "I will."

𓆩♱��

"I will, Bill." you said, peering into his pretty brown eyes as the priest stared at you two in horror.

he smiled and laughed, holding you close. his lips met yours, his hand upon your waist, and the gloomy day outside was simply the best weather to have a wedding like this.

he held you close, before saying, "do you want to do it or should I?"

you shook your head, "you do it, darling."

"of course, schön." he said, pulling out his revolver and pointing it at your ex-husband's head, shooting him point blank.

remains of his brain flew everywhere. a hole in his head, empty like his vows to you, his eyes crossed as blood trickled down his nose.

you sighed and said, "maybe aim somewhere more humane next time."

"yes, meine liebe, I'll aim for an artery next time." he reassured, kissing your forehead, "I love you."

"I love you too." you responded, kissing his cheek back.

and now, you can finally have your happy ending.

#tokio hotel #y2k #bill kaulitz #bill kaulitz x reader #bill kaulitz x you #fluff #bill kaulitz fluff #angst #angst with a happy ending #tokio hotel x reader #tokio hotel fluff #tokio hotel fanfic

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olympiansally · 1 year

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Dazai: I got captured and will now be reunited with my enemies

The “enemies” when they see Dazai: 🤩😍

#arch nemesies more like what are you arching? your back??#they are both so happy to see him like pls lmao #both their faces say oh my god sweetie welcome back it’s been so boring without you <3 #those are heart eyes I see #anyway lmao #dazai osamu #nakahara chuuya #fyodor dostoyevsky #bsd #skk #fyozai

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smileysuh · 9 months

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racer

🌙 staring. Jaehyun x afab!Reader

🔮 preview. You feel like a chew toy caught between two rottweilers, and it kills you to give Jaehyun one last look before turning your back on him, following your brother to his car. Jaehyun is watching you as you get in, and when you close the door, you let out a deep breath you hadn’t realized you were holding. “I know, what a killer race,” Johnny grins, starting his engine. “Could have been better though, he could have actually died.”

tw/cw. car crash/injury, Johnny maybe slightly tried to kill Jaehyun, illegal street racing, protected sex, dry humping, blowjob, hand job, pining, praise, slow sex, slight wrist restraint, admitting you love someone while balls deep, sweet dirty talk, hair pulling, etc… I pet names: (hers) Lil Suh, baby.

👹 rating.18+ explicit I wc. 6.7k

🍭 aus. street racer!Jaehyun, star-crossed lovers, secret relationship, step-brother!Johnny, etc…

☀️ mlist + an. I watched the new Fast and Furious movie a few months ago and this is the outcome

For something that’s supposed to be illegal, street races are big events. Under the cover of darkness, with the moon high in the sky, it almost feels like you’re at an outdoor party. The pavement is covered in people, and they part like the red sea as your cars slowly dive through, coming to a stop just near the starting line.

“Chin up, Lil Suh,” you step brother’s best friend says, nudging you while people begin to swarm Johnny’s racing car in front of you. “Nothings going to happen to him.”

No one is as confident in Johnny as Donghyuck is, although, it’s not Johnny you’re worried about.

Things have been coming to a head lately between your stepbrother and his supposed ‘arch nemesis,’ a new racer on the scene by the name of Jeong Jaehyun. The past three street races have been inceasingly dangerous, with the two often battling for first even as they rushed over the finish line. Jaehyun had even beaten your stepbrother two weeks ago, and Johnny hasn’t been able to get over the loss, his first in over a year and a half.

You have knots in your stomach, and a sneaking suspicion that something bad is about to happen. To make matters worse, you have a vested interest in both of the street racers. Johnny is family - even if he’s not blood - but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t care about Jaehyun too.

You hadn’t meant to find yourself in a secret fuck buddy style relationship with a racer, let alone your brother’s nemesis… it had just sort of happened, and now, you’re realizing the true depths of the consequences.

Getting out of Donghyuck’s car, you watch Johnny move to sit on the hood of his own racer, girls swarming him and running their hands over his fresh paint job. The purple underlights always gained Johnny attention, and they’d been his signature colour… until Jaehyun had arrived onto the scene with a similar aesthetic.

“How many other racers are here?” you ask, tucking close to Donghyuck while he guides you to your brother.

“I think I saw Taeyong’s car when we drove up,” your brother’s best friend notes, although, with so many people swarming, it’s hard to get a real count just yet.

Besides, Taeyong’s not who you care about.

Jaehyun’s always had impeccable timing, too impeccable for your brother’s liking, and a familiar rumble in the periphery draws your attention. The swarm begins to part, and Jaehyun’s car slowly rolls up, coming to a stop right next to Johnny’s.

Your brother’s expression had gone from a smile to a scowl, and he watches his nemesis exit the drivers seat. To Jaehyun’s credit, he always nods at your brother. You’ve never been able to ascertain if it’s out of respect for Johnny’s reputation, or due to Jaehyun being a genuinely nice guy, and the time you spend with Jaehyun is always filled with more pleasurable things than questions of intention.

The car that pulls up behind Jaehyun’s belongs to his own right hand man, a mechanic by the name of Kim Jungwoo. With shiny bleached white hair, and a smile big enough to light up his entire face, the street puppy always draws attention to himself, even though he’s not a racer.

Jaehyun might not have the liberty to lock eyes with you, but Jungwoo does, and it’s been clear to you for a while now that he knows about what you and Jaehyun get up to behind closed doors. Jungwoo even has the nerve to flash you a wink before going to join Jaehyun on the hood of his car, and the motion isn’t lost on Donghyuck.

“Hate that dude,” your brother’s best friend says under his breath.

“He seems okay,” you sigh, and it’s the most you can defend the street puppy.

You notice a small man running around, and he leans close to whisper something in Johnny’s ear. Taeil is one of the organizers, whatever that entails, and you’ve always thought it odd that the quiet, well mannered man would even be a part in any of this, let alone one of the people calling the shots.

“Yo, yo, yo! How we doin tonight?!” A loud voice booms through a few speakers placed along the street, and Mark Lee’s familiar way of speaking draws all eyes as the Canadian moves to stand in the bed of his own flashy green truck while everyone cheers.

He doesn’t race anymore, one bad accident had turned him off of the streets for good, but he’s one of the best announcers you’ve ever witnessed, with a talent for rallying the crowd and getting energy flowing.

“I’m gonna need all the racers to move to the finish line, that means you, Doyoung,” Mark grins, and you’ll never cease to enjoy the beef Mark has with the man with red underlights.

Taeyong, who had also not been in proper place, begins to roll up to stop next to Johnny, although, he never gets an earful like his friend Doyoung.

“We’re in for a big race tonight, everyone,” Mark announces. “In pink, we have our very own Mister Lee Taeyong!” The crowd cheers. “And in red, as always, Doyoung Kim- boo!” Mark’s the only one booing, and he’s also butchered Doyoung’s name, which always make the racer’s skin flash the colour of his car. “In purple, we’ve got the man of the evening, the winner of our last race, Jeong Jaehyun!” The crowd roars, and you feel the vibration in your very bones. “And last, but certainly not least, also in purple - you should really trademark that, dude - we have the previously undefeated, the one, the only, Mister John J Suh!”

If Jaehyun’s cheers had been a roar, Johnny’s are like rolling thunder, and he stands proudly next to his car, waving to his adoring fans before leaning down to enter his vehicle.

“Looks like our guys are eager to get this race started, and they can’t be the only ones, lets hear it for our drivers!”

The good thing about being in a run down industrial section of the city, is that there are no neighbours to bother with the deafening sounds. You can be as loud as you want, and you cheer along with the crowd, which begins to move away from the cars as their drivers start their engines.

“We’ve all been here before,” Mark says. “We know this track. But for those of you who are new… ask a friend because I will not be explaining the route.” No one has ever called Mark particularly thorough in his announcements, but he’s comical at least, and many people chuckle.

“So what do you say everyone, should we get this show started?!”

As the crowd erupts, you notice a familiar shorty rushing up to you.

“Our usual starting girl is out with a cold, but I know just the substitute,” Mark says in the periphery of your mind, and Taeil shoves a flag into your hand, grabbing your arm to drag you forward. “Lets all give a big round of applause for Johnny’s sister, Lil motherfucking Suh!”

You hate this. You hate it so much.

This isn’t the first time they’ve made you start the race on short notice, and you’d told them never to make you do it again- but somehow, you find yourself being lifted into the bed of Mark’s truck, Hyuck following close behind you. The vehicle is positioned about fifteen meters in front of the starting line, and once you throw the flag, it will lurch into motion, speeding ahead of the cars and giving those of you in the bed the perfect view of the race.

It can be a dodgy position to be in, as one bump can throw you, Mark, or his posse out of the truck- you’d heard about it happening once.

“What do you say, Lil Suh?” Mark pulls you back to his chest, securing an arm around your waist, the only true anchor you’ll have once this begins. “Are you ready to see some real action?”

He holds the mic in front of you, and you find your gaze shifting to Jaehyun’s car as you take a deep breath. There are certain expectations of a flag girl, and you’re a legacy here. You’ll be damned if you don’t make it a show, even if this was unexpected.

“Tonight, our city's best racers are here to fight for number one,” you announce, before focusing in on the drivers revving their engines, as is custom. “It’s up to you four to prove yourselves. Be fast. Be safe. And no matter what happens, don’t fucking lose! Get ready, racers!” You hold the flag above your head, throwing it into the air as you scream “Go!”

The truck lurches into action, and Mark pulls you tight against his chest, laughing loudly in your ear as you all speed off down the street track. The wind whips through your hair, and Hyuck’s screaming loudly next to you, one hand in the air while he holds on with the other.

It is exhilarating to be in the truck, to be ahead of the cars struggling for first position. It’s the clearest view of the race- but it’s also not where you wanted to be tonight. Johnny’s already being aggressive in his driving, giving Jaehyun little space, and your stomach turns again.

The cars are quickly gaining on you, and you feel Mark reach back, smacking his hand on the top of the truck to tell the driver to go faster. You let out a squeal of delight, grabbing onto Hyuck when your vehicle lurches forward again, the driver flooring it while pulling slightly off to the side in preparation for the cars to pass.

Maybe you’re overreacting about this, maybe this race will be okay-

Johnny makes a sudden swerve, clipping Jaehyun’s car despite your secret fuck buddy’s attempt to avoid it. Just like that, Jaehyun is skidding, and your heart stops in your chest. At speeds like this, even a touch can send you spiraling, and that’s exactly what happens to Jaehyun.

“Fuck!” Mark says loudly beside you, immediately pulling a red flag out of his pocket, and you all wait to see what will happen next-

Doyoung had been right on Jaehyun’s tail, and the sudden speed change has him barreling into Jaehyun’s back, lifting the car and causing it to flip upside down- miraculously, Jaehyun lands back on his tires, but both he and Doyoung clip a shopping cart that had been just to the side of the makeshift track.

Wheels skid loudly, a screeching sound that sets your teeth on edge, and both cars come to a skittering halt on the side of the road, with Jaehyun half up on the sidewalk.

The truck slows down, but both Johnny and Taeyong go speeding past, obviously intent on finishing the race despite the collision.

You don’t care about winners, you only care about Jaehyun, and you’re hopping out of the bed of the truck before it’s even at a full stop.

You stumble on the pavement, but as soon as you’re steady, you take off running.

The sound of your heart is practically deafening as you run the fifty meters to the crash, and you go right past Doyoung, jumping up onto the curb next to Jaehyun’s car to look inside. “Jae!” you scream.

“Shh, Lil Suh,” he groans, reaching for the door handle. He looks a little roughed up, and his lip is bleeding- “I’m okay,” he tries to assure you, but he’s obviously winded as he stands from the car, leaning on the door while you rush to support him under his other arm.

“Jae,” you say his name again, hand on his abdomen as you hold him up.

“That fucking brother of yours!” comes Doyoung’s familiar screaming, as he also exits his car, coming around the front to assess the damages.

“Don’t yell at her,” Jaehyun states, straightening a little even as he leans back against his vehicle.

“Since when were you two so fucking chummy?” Doyoung rages, skin a classic tint of red.

“Woah, woah, woah-” Mark has finally arrived on the scene, and he also side steps Doyoung, coming straight for you and Jaehyun. “Dude, are you okay?!”

Hyuck’s behind Mark, and he’s watching you with narrowed eyes as he moves to stand by the red racer, not saying a word.

You swallow thickly, knowing you should let go of Jaehyun- that if you continue to support him like this, Hyuck will most definitely mention it to Johnny- but you can’t bring yourself to pull away from the street racer, so you force your gaze from Hyuck.

“He clipped me,” Jaehyun says. “John clipped me.”

“Yeah, he fucked you big time, dude,” Mark agrees, and you hear the approach of cars.

Within eyeshot of the starting line, the mechanics there must have seen the crash, and you recougnize Yuta and Jungwoo’s cars as they pull to a stop a few feet away.

“Jae!” Jungwoo bellows, running over to replace Mark on Jaehyun’s other side. “Are you alright?!”

“I’m fine,” Jaehyun tries to brush it off, but he winces a little under Jungwoo’s grip.

“Your car is fucked, man,” Yuta muses, walking around Jaehyun’s vehicle and eying the damages.

“That’s really not what he needs to hear right now,” you shoot at the Japanese mechanic who has no bedside manner whatsoever. He holds his hands up in defeat, stepping back.

“The race didn’t even stop-” Jungwoo breathes.

“Johnny wanted to win,” Doyoung states, crossing his arms over his chest and eying Hyuck. “Your boyfriend did this on purpose.”

“Woah, now,” Hyuck laughs. “I get all the pussy dude- how many times do I have to tell you I’m not dating Johnny-”

The two begin to fight, and you ignore it, helping Jaehyun to Jungwoo’s car. The mechanic does most of the heavy lifting as he supports Jaehyun get into the front seat. Then you turn to walk back to Yuta, lowering your voice. “Can you fix his car?”

“I mean…” Yuta sighs, cocking his head to the side. “Sure, I can fix it.”

“Then fix it,” you state, motioning to the tow truck he’d driven up in. “Take it back to your shop, I don’t want to look at it anymore.”

“Shouldn’t I be dealing with Jae on this?” Yuta eyes you suspiciously. “Since when were you two so close, Lil Suh?”

“Just do it, Yuta.” You reach out to touch his arm gently. “Please.”

Jungwoo arrives behind you. “Tow it to my garage,” he instructs. “If we both work on this, we can have it fixed in no time.”

“We gotta get to the finish line,” Mark announces, already on the way to his truck.

“Yes, we do,” Doyoung agrees, and you can see his hand balled into a fist.

When you look to Jungwoo’s car, Jaehyun returns your longing gaze, but you know that if you drive with him and his friend, it will be as good as announcing to your brother that your allegiance has changed.

With a deep sigh, you follow Hyuck and Doyoung to Mark’s truck, taking your spot in the bed.

The finish line is only a short drive away, especially with all your drivers flooring it, and it’s hard not to look at Jaehyun and Jungwoo as they drive behind you.

“What happened back there?” Hyuck asks, pulling you to his chest.

“What do you mean?”

“You know what I mean,” he says firmly. “You and Jae.”

The words that come out of your mouth next are painful, and they’re only half a lie, “There is no me and Jae.”

Hyuck studies your face. “There better not be.”

Despite the crash that had occured, most of the crowd seems to be in happy spirits as they gather around the finish line. They move out of the way as Mark’s truck pulls up, and he takes out a green flag, ready to declare the winner.

Two cars come barelling around a turn, moving into another long stretch just before the finish. It’s a flash of pink and purple, but there’s a clear victor, and it’s not even much of a battle as Johnny comes racing over the finish line.

Everybody erupts into cheers, everybody except you. You can’t find your voice, you can only clap while Johnny does a victory donut or two before returning to the finish line where the racers are.

He gets out of his car with a massive grin, and Doyoung hops out of the truck-

Hyuck stops him, holding Doyoung tight while he rages in his arms. “Let me at him!” Doyoung bellows, but your brother’s right hand man knows better than to allow Doyoung to rain on Johnny’s winner parade.

Jaehyun’s right hand man, however, knows no such restraint, and you watch Jaehyun approach your brother, the crowd parting to let him through.

“Fuck, shit, fuck-” Mark cusses next to you, leaping out of the truck while you follow.

“You clipped me,” Jaehyun states, hands balled into a fists at his side.

“That’s part of racing,” Johnny brushes it off.

“Maybe part of your racing,” Jaehyun growls, “But not all of us are suicidal maniacs like you!”

“Every driver is a suicidal maniac, it’s part of the fucking job.” Your brother rolls his eyes.

Then Jaehyun is grabbing the front of Johnny’s shirt, and the taller of the two is looking down at him with a grin.

Jaehyun is seething. “If I’d had known we could play dirty like that, I would have knocked you on your ass during our last race!”

Johnny leans closer to the angry racer. “I’d like to see you try.”

Jaehyun pulls his fist back, and you know exactly what he’s about to do. You find yourself jumping between them before you can even think about it, pushing Johnny back. “Jae, don’t.”

His motion stops, and he looks from you to your brother, swallowing thickly. His hand drops to his side, and Johnny lets out a loud laugh. You see the effect it has on Jaehyun, can see his skin reddening with anger.

You feel horrible about this. About all of it.

“I’d like to stay and chat,” Johnny says, “but I’ve got an after party to go to. Winners only. Come on, Lil Suh, I’ll take you on a victory lap.”

You feel like a chew toy caught between two rottweilers, and it kills you to give Jaehyun one last look before turning your back on him, following your brother to his car.

Jaehyun is watching you as you get in, and when you close the door, you let out a deep breath you hadn’t realized you were holding.

“I know, what a killer race,” Johnny grins, starting his engine. “Could have been better though, he could have actually died.”

“Is that what you were aiming for, John?” You grab onto the door handle, digging your nails against it to stop yourself from acting out.

“Not particularly. I saw the opportunity to take two birds out with one stone, so I did.” He assesses you out of the corner of his eye. “That doesn’t bother you, does it, Lil Suh?”

“No,” you lie through gritted teeth as the car speeds off to do a victory lap. “I’m not bothered at all.”

“Good, now sit back, and let me show you why us Suh’s are winners in this city.”

You usually like speeding with your brother, he’s a daring driver, and the way he drifts on sharp turns has always been something that brought you delight. But tonight, you can’t find it in yourself to laugh, even while he rolls down his window to let out a howl of victory into the night air.

Your phone buzzes in your pocket and you pull it out, skimming the pseudonym contact name you use for Jaehyun. ‘Slip away from the party. Same place as usual. Be there. Please.’

It had been a little difficult to escape both Johnny and Hyuck from the afterparty, with the latter of the two even catching you just as you slipped outside. Hyuck had been smoking, leaning against the wall, and he’d stopped you as you’d rushed past.

“Where are you off to?” He’d asked.

You’d used the only lie you could think of, telling him, “My friend just got dumped, she needs me.”

Hyuck hadn’t asked anymore questions, and now, you’re arriving at the motel you and Jae use as a meeting point. The lobby boy nods at you as you walk past. “He’s in room thirteen.”

“Thanks,” you mutter, tossing him a five dollar bill from your pocket and taking the staircase two at a time to reach the second level. You don’t even bother to knock on Jaehyun’s door, you never do, you simply slip inside, locking it behind you.

He’s sitting on the edge of the bed, and with his shirt off, you can see the full extent of the crash. His ribcage has a nasty bruise, which is visible under the ice pack he’s holding to his skin, and your heart breaks for him.

“Jae,” you whisper, sinking to your knees in front of him to assess the damage. “You need to go to the hospital-”

“And tell them what?” he sighs. “That I got in a car crash? Come on, we both know that could never work. I’m fine.”

You reach for the ice pack. “There could be internal bleeding-”

“Baby,” he catches your wrist, “I said I’m fine.”

You look up into his dark eyes, and you take a shuddery breath. “I’m sorry.”

“What are you sorry for?” Jaehyun cocks his head to the side, brows furrowing.

“Everything-” you swallow thickly. “I’m sorry for the crash, and for getting between you and Johnny, and for going to that stupid after party with him-”

“He knows.”

“What?”

“Johnny,” Jaehyun says. “He knows about us.”

“He doesn’t know-” you shake your head.

“He does,” the racer insists. “Everyone knows, especially now. Hyuck will tell him about the way you ran to me after the crash. He’s not stupid. He’s gonna know, baby.”

“No one knows,” you say again, but your voice is a whisper now.

“They all do,” Jaehyun tells you. “They see it in the way we look at each other.”

You stand up, gazing down at the beautiful street racer who you never should have even entertained, let alone slept with- “How do we look at eachother?”

Jaehyun licks his lips, tugging at your shirt. “Like two people who want to rip eachothers clothes off.”

“Is that all?” you tease, lifting your shirt up and over your head so his hands can make full contact with your waist, pulling you closer.

“Like two people who care about each other,” he clarifies, voice near a whisper. “I told you, everyone saw the way you ran to my car when it flipped-”

“I was worried about you,” you insist.

The beautiful racer smiles. “Are you finally going to admit you’re hopelessly in love with me, Lil Suh?”

You scoff. “You wish, Jeong Jaehyun.”

Before he can give you a snappy comeback, you grab his face, pressing your mouth to his gently. He has a busted lip, and he groans, fingers tightening on your waist to tug you closer.

Your knees find the bed on either side of his hips, and Jaehyun lets out another moan of pain as you lay him down against the mattress.

“Are you sure we should be fucking while you’re in this condition?” you ask, pressing kisses to his throat.

“We’re not fucking,” he says, applying pressure to your waist that prompts you to grind down against him, feeling the erection in his pants.

“We’re not?” you laugh. “Then what are we doing?”

“Tonight, as cheesy as this sounds,” Jaehyun sighs, “we’re not fucking, we’re making love. And don’t-” he cuts you off before you can speak. “Don’t try to deny it. We both know there’s something here. Something between us. You might still be too afraid to admit it, but I’m not. Not after that crash.”

Who knew a near death experience would make a street racer so sentimental… but you’re not complaining.

You look down at Jaehyun, and he stares back. You’re not sure what to say, so you say nothing, instead, you kiss him again, hoping that the motion speaks louder than words.

You’re doing your best to be gentle with him, but Jaehyun has always brought a side out of you that’s anything but gentle. These soft kisses are nice though, and he takes your breath away as easily as ever.

Your hands are on either side of the bed next to his head, and you’re trying not to lean on his bruised chest. The ice pack is pressed between your bodies, and the cold sensation is interesting in contrast to his hot lips and the hands that prompt your hips to continue your grinding against him.

Even while your lower halves are both clothed, it feels good to be rubbing against him, to feel how hard he gets from just a bit of kissing. He’s right that there’s something going on between the two of you, something undeniable.

You care about him, more than you ever thought you would.

Your hand slips between your bodies and you cup his cock, making him moan. “Fuck, baby, you feel so good,” he whispers, tangling a hand through your hair so he can pull your head slightly to the side, gaining access to your throat.

“I want to take your pants off,” you tell him, already beginning to get frustrated by his jeans.

“Then take them off,” he says simply. “I’m all yours.”

You sit up, gazing down at your brother’s bruised mortal enemy… and then, you begin to work on his belt.

He watches you silently, and when you slip to the floor, tugging his clothes off, he lifts his hips to make it easier.

Usually, things with Jaehyun are somewhat rushed, but tonight, you want to give him all your time and attention. He deserves it - after your brother ran him off the road - and his cock looks so pretty in the shitty motel light.

“You don’t have to-” he begins to tell you, but you cut him off.

“I want to,” your hand finds the base of his cock, and you trace your thumb up the vein that runs along the underside of it. “Just relax for me, Jae. I want this.”

He lets out a shaky breath, but does as you ask, leaning back against the mattress while you bring your mouth to his cock. You start by licking the tip, and your featherlight touch is enough to have him groaning, grabbing at the bed sheets.

He’s so sensitive with you, and you love it.

It makes teasing him all the more fun, and you continue your small motions, wrapping your mouth around the head while you stroke his length. You swirl your tongue, suckling and earning more reactions from the pretty, bruised man, who’s completely at your mercy.

“Please,” he groans, and that’s all you need to sink your mouth further onto his cock, bobbing your head gently.

One of his hands comes down to stroke your hair, and his touch makes you want to please him even more. He’s being as gentle with you as you are with him, and you’re not the one all banged up from a crash.

Your drool is dripping on his length, making it easier to stroke him, and you apply a bit more pressure. Jaehyun gasps, hips twitching, and you close your eyes to enjoy the feeling of pleasuring him.

Your pussy is throbbing between your legs, and after you’re done working him up like this, you can’t wait to ride him. It’s not often that you’re on top with Jae, but if there’s ever a night for it, it’s tonight.

“So good, baby,” Jaehyun moans. “So good for me.”

His praise has you sucking harder on his cock, and he lets out more sounds of pleasure that go straight to your core.

You continue to work him up with your hand, taking as much of him into your mouth as you can while he struggles below you. He’s gripping the sheets, hard, and you can tell it’s taking a lot of willpower for him not to thrust up and meet you- but Jaehyun’s never been the type for making you choke on his cock, and you realize now that maybe he has cared about you all this time.

As rough as he’s been with you in the past, it’s always been because you were begging for it, and even then, he’s kept a gentleness in his actions-

You do love Jeong Jaehyun, and it’s almost comical that you realize it while your mouth is stuffed full of his cock.

You pull off of him, your hand stroking his shaft while you take a breath. “I need you inside of me,” you tell him.

“No more waiting,” he agrees.

You let go of him, standing up and reaching into your back pocket for a condom before taking off your pants and underwear. “Can you move up the bed a little for me, Jae?”

“Yeah,” he shuffles up the mattress, watching you discard your bra. You’re fully naked for him now, and you straddle his legs, tearing open the condom package and rolling the rubber onto his cock.

Then you lean over Jaehyun, kissing him gently, grabbing him with one hand and guiding him to your core. You sink down slowly, and you moan into each others mouths while he tangles his fingers in your hair, keeping your lips on his.

Actions most definitely speak louder than words, and the kiss is one that has you even more breathless than before. It’s not like any other kisses you’ve shared with the street racer. This one truly means something, and your pussy flutters just thinking about it.

Jaehyun groans, one hand moving to your hip, and you take it as a sign to move. You begin to bounce on him slowly, revelling in the feeling of his cock filling you up just right.

It’s interesting to be on top, to be the one in control, and Jaehyun lets you have free range in your motions. The hand on your hip isn’t insistent, he doesn’t prompt you to go harder or faster-

Maybe the slowness of it, the deliberate movements, are part of what makes this an act of love, not just fucking.

It’s not hard, or fast, or rough, but it’s still making your toes curl as you ride him, your lips locked in a passionate kiss. “Jae,” you groan, thighs beginning to burn-

He reads you like the back of his hand, and in one motion, he’s rolling you onto your back. Jaehyun lets out a small wince, and you immediately double check him, cupping his face while he slides the ice pack onto the bed next to you. “Maybe I should stay on top-”

“No,” he shakes his head, “I’m okay. It’s my turn to want something.”

“Yeah?” you smile up at him. “And what is it that you want?”

“I want to make you feel good,” he says, leaning down to kiss your throat, his noze nuzzling your skin. “Want to take care of you. Want to make you cum.”

You whimper at his words, gently wrapping your legs around his hips while he begins to thrust into you.

“Put your hands above your head for me, baby,” he instructs.

You follow through, and he captures your wrists against his palm, pinning them to the bed.

For someone who’s just been in a crash, his motions are still quite fluid and rhythmic. His lips continue against your neck, and you gasp when he suckles on your sweet spot.

“If-” you swallow thickly, “If it hurts, let me know.”

“Oh, baby,” Jaehyun smiles against your skin, “Love always hurts. I’m not going to start complaining about it now.”

The word ‘love’ makes you tingle with emotion, and you gasp as he begins to fuck you harder, pressing you against the bed.

“Can you rub your clit for me, baby? Your mouth felt so good, and I don’t think I can last that much longer,” he admits.

He lets go of your wrists and without a word of protest, you slip your hand between your bodies, seeking out your most sensitive spot. You release a loud groan at the contact, pussy clenching around his cock, which earns a moan from the man above you.

“Jae,” you whisper, loving the taste of his name on your lips. “You’re so good to me-”

“You deserve it,” he assures you, a hand coming down to your hip, pinning you exactly where he wants you while you work yourselves closer and closer to the edge.

He’s fucking you harder now, but it still feels like making love, and your free hand reaches to tangle in his hair, pulling him from your throat so you can feel his lips on yours again.

You love the way you’re both moaning freely now, and his sounds only add to your pleasure.

“I’m close,” you tell him, dragging your tongue across his lip and earning a loud groan.

“Me too,” he breathes heavily. “You feel so good-”

“Just what the doctor ordered,” you joke, and Jaehyun lets out a small laugh.

“Exactly,” he agrees. “Sex with the love of your life daily, for a week, think you can handle that?”

“Jae,” you whisper. “I’m the love of your life?”

“I’d like to think so.”

He’s being so soft, so vulnerable, and you wonder how long he’s been thinking about this.

In your relationships, you’ve always been the first one to say ‘I love you,’ the first one to be in your feels- and now you know what it’s like to be on the other side of that. He’s confident in you, confident in your connection, and it makes your heart swell in your chest.

“I love you too,” you confess, and it feels so right- none of your other love confessions in life have ever felt like this, and you know it must be true.

Jaehyun groans loudly. “I’m gonna cum, baby, you really know how to sweet talk a guy-”

“I’m gonna cum too,” you tell him, gasping against his lips while you rub your clit harder.

“Cum with me, baby,” Jaehyun says softly, kissing you while you both reach your highs.

Your pussy clenches tightly around his cock, and you moan loudly together, tongues dancing while your bodies move fluidly, like they were made to move.

Nothing has ever felt this natural, and your orgasm is all consuming because of it.

Your entire body is tingling with emotion and pleasure, and you can feel that the racer has goosebumps, letting out a small shiver while he fucks you through it.

It’s as if he’s the very air you need to breathe, and you’ve been deprived for so long- there’s a clarity with him, and everything is all the more intense because of it.

Jaehyun groans as you both come down from your highs, and his motions slowly come to a stop, until he’s simply laying on top of you, lips still pressed to your own.

You kiss for a while more, fingers moving away from your clit so you can tangle both hands in his soft hair, keeping him where he is.

“Stay here tonight,” Jaehyun whispers, pulling away from you to look down at your face.

“Stay here?” you repeat.

“Yeah, stay with me. Please.”

You’ve never slept over with him, never passed out after sex in his arms-

“Okay,” you nod.

“I’m just going to get rid of this condom, and then we can cuddle or something,” he says, in a way that’s almost shy.

You watch him, endeared as he disposes the condom and returns to join you, slipping under the covers and holding out his arms expectantly. You move closer, careful about his injured ribs, and you rest your head against his shoulder while he pets your hair.

“I’m going to tell Johnny,” you say.

“Really?”

“Uh huh,” you nod, feeling very confident with your decision. “You just told me you think I’m the love of your life, Jae. We’ve already been hiding this for months, and I don’t want to hide anymore.”

“I don’t want to hide either,” he agrees.

“So it’s settled,” you smile. “I’ll tell Johnny, and he’ll just have to deal with it.”

“I can’t believe we’re finally doing this,” Jaehyun admits. “I thought about it so many times, but I always figured you’d want to keep it a secret from your brother. That guy has some anger issues.”

“Says the dude that tried to punch him today.”

“After he hit me with his car,” Jaehyun points out.

“You have me there,” you concede with a laugh.

“I love you, Lil Suh,” he says suddenly, and it makes you hold him tighter, tucking your face against his shoulder.

“I love you too…” you put on your Mark’s announcer voice, “the man of the evening, the winner of the last race-”

“I lost the last race,” Jaehyun points out.

“Not to me,” you tell him. “Tonight, I think we’re both winners.”

Jaehyun laughs. “You have me there.”

Johnny stares at you in shock. “Sorry, I must have heard you wrong,” he laughs finally, “it just sounded like you told me you’re dating my arch nemesis.”

“Do I have to say it again?” you sigh.

Your brother’s smile drops. “You can’t be serious, Lil Suh.”

“I am though,” you say firmly. “I’m dating Jeong Jaehyun.”

“Don’t you know how dangerous it is to date street racers?” Johnny stands up abruptly. “They die all the time!”

“Not if you stop trying to kill him!” you shoot back. “Jeez, John, you act as if you’ve never had a girlfriend yourself.”

“I don’t date street racers,” Johnny says, refusing to see the parallel.

“You know, all things considered,” you sigh, “you’re taking this much better than I thought you would.”

“Hyuck warned me this was going on,” Johnny cocks his head to the side. “Said you were the first person rushing to help Jae after the crash. I guess I’ve been processing it all weekend.”

“So you’re okay with me dating your supposed mortal enemy?”

“I never said I’m okay with it,” Johnny points out. “Look, do I hate the guy? Yes. Is that hate founded on jealousy that he might one day be better than me in a car? Also yes. I just figure, if you’re dating him, you can convince him to get Yuta to change his underlights so they’re not purple anymore.”

“So that’s it?” you ask in shock. “That’s your condition in him dating me? That he changes his light colour?!”

“We all know purple is my aesthetic.”

“Done, I’ll let him know right away.”

“You think he’s actually gonna change the colour?”

“Of course he’s going to change the colour, this guy loves me, Johnny-”

Your brother blinks at you. “He does?”

“Yeah,” you nod, swallowing thickly.

“And you love him?”

You nod again, looking down.

“Then I’m happy for you, Lil Suh.” Johnny reaches out, setting a hand on your shoulder. “Just promise not to bring any Lil Jeong’s into the world anytime soon, yeah?”

You find yourself laughing, shaking your head at your stupid older brother. “I promise.”

“Good, because if he knocked you up, I’d really start to have problems, even if he does change his car colours.” Johnny assesses you. “You remember what mom always said about condoms-”

“Oh my god!” you scream. “Yes, Johnny! We’re being safe! Holy shit- this conversation is so over-”

“I wouldn’t be doing my brotherly duties if I didn’t make you grossed out. Think of me making that condom comment every time you sleep with him.”

You’re quick to rush from the room, yelling back, “That doesn’t make things any better!” But you can’t help the smile on your face- you can’t believe that he’s okay with this, that he didn’t punch a hole through a wall-

You think about what Johnny had said, about the jealousy of another driver who could take him on.

Maybe after all of this, they might even be friends. Or, maybe more likely, you’ve simply watched too many Fast and Furious movies.

☀️ mlist + an. thank you for reading! There's just something about this Jae- I had so much fun writing this fic

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🔮 preview. Jaehyun presses one last kiss to your lips, grinning all the while. Then, when he pulls back, he flattens his hand over your mouth. “If you need me to let up,” he says, leaning forward so he can drag his tongue over the shell of your ear, “just lick my hand. Got it baby?” You nod, already enjoying the feeling of being held down with a hand over your mouth. You really can’t believe you’re doing this in your childhood bedroom with your stepmom sleeping just down the hall- But at the same time, if there was ever a man who would convince you to fuck inhibition and do this, it would be Jaehyun. He just has a hold over you, and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t love it.

cw/ tw. Unprotected/raw sex, sex while her mom sleeps down the hall, inklings of impreg/cum/being full kink, hand over her mouth, pussy/cock touching, praise, orgasm countdown, mutual orgasm, dry humping, aftercare, etc… I pet names: (hers) baby, angel.

👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 3.3k I teaser wc. 270

🌙 staring. Jaehyun x afab!reader

bonus

It’s the first time Jaehyun is meeting your extended family, at a summer barbecue, and so far, the conversation has stuck to general things like steak preferences and beef versus chicken. However, as you all take your seats at the long outdoor food table, your stepmom finally addresses your boyfriend.

“So I hear you street race like Johnny,” she muses.

“Yes, ma’am,” Jaehyun nods respectfully. “It’s actually how I met your daughter.”

“I guess good things do come out of it then,” your mom sighs, leaning back in her chair, “and please, call me Myoryon or Mama Suh.” She assesses the way Jaehyun sits close to you, his hand holding yours on top of the table. “You two look good together.”

“Thank you, Mama Suh.” Jaehyun smiles softly.

“She looks happy,” your stepmother continues. “I’ve never seen her happy like this.”

“Then I guess I’m doing my job right,” Jaehyun gives your hand a small squeeze and Johnny lets out a puking sound.

“I’m going to lose my appetite,” your stepbrother warns.

“I already have,” Hyuck nods, pushing his food away. “Not that your cooking isn’t amazing, Mama Suh.”

“It’s alright,” your mom assures him. “I understand jealousy can upset anyone’s stomach.”

“Jealousy?!” Hyuck bellows, and Johnny lets out a loud laugh.

“When was the last time you brought a girl over?” Mama Suh questions, smiling softly even while digging into your brother’s best friend.

Hyuck sputters, tongue tied.

“And how about you, Johnny?” She turns her gaze to him. “If I remember correctly, you’ve called a few times about some arch nemesis being a better driver than you- I assume this arch nemesis is Jaehyun.”

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silverflqmes · 1 month

Note

Hai!! I was wondering if you’d be able/want to/feel comfortable with writing a nsfw cloud x reader? Maybe something sweet, like their first time together as a couple. If you don’t like the request is fine ! I hope you’re having a great day :]

໒⦂ 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐘 𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐒𝐓 𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓.

notes. hi anon, i have not written nsfw in some centuries so i hope this is decent cuz i definitely lost my touch😭 i wrote the reader as female since that’s what i’m used to writing, given i’m.. well, a girl😵‍💫 hope that’s okay with you</3

genre. nsfw + fluff

tw. virginity loss, hand job, fingering, riding, slight uh pillow princess cloud in the beginning..

disclaimer. uncomfortable with smut or younger than 17? please dni.

cloud strife x fem!reader

it was quarter to midnight and the blond still could not find it in himself to sleep. not that he ever could, anyway.. but since he’d gotten with you, sleep came just a little more easily and the nightmares became less frequent.

tonight, however, was a slightly different case.

“cloud..” you mumbled sleepily, lifting your head from his back when you felt him shift against your hold. “still can’t sleep?”

remembering your presence, he blinked in the darkness, feeling your hand on his stomach, which he gently took ahold of, kissing the back of it. “sorry, having a hard time..” he paused to think of a vague excuse, if only to mask his embarrassment. “getting um, comfortable, right now.. nothing to do with you, though.”

his cheeks were twinged with pink under the sliver of moonlight that spilled into your shared bedroom through the curtains, but thankfully hidden from your stare.

while he had said it was strange for him to be the ‘little spoon’, part of him was grateful that he was now..

a pout came to your lips as you urged him to turn over, but he wouldn’t budge — adamant on not being seen. something was.. off. really off.

“cloud, come on- you can tell me. you know i won’t judge you for whatever reason that’s preventing you from sleeping.” you assured, smoothing the hand he wasn’t holding over his arm, comfortingly.

he shuddered unknowingly at the touch, hyper aware of your proximity to him — the way your body had pressed against his back and your light breathing on his neck now.

the fabric confinements constricted in protest, and he willed himself not to make any noises that gave away his sensitivity. why did it have to hit him tonight so suddenly? was it that lack of battling, with his arch nemesis no longer threatening the planet?

“i-it’s nothing.” he shook his head, attempting to steady his tone, but his facade was faltering. “just.. go back to bed, i should fall asleep in a moment or — a-aah.. aaah.”

panic crossed your features at the noise he made as you let go him within seconds, finally catching a glimpse of his expression to see he was not wincing out of agony.. but of pleasure?

curiously, your eyes slid down to his lower half to find him squeezing his legs together for dear life. oh.

“c-cloud, are you — ”

“yes-! fuck, i am..” he breathed out, turning his head to hide his shame in the pillow, but you turned him back over without harming him, pursing your lips together.

“y’know,” you began, heaving a sigh. “you could’ve just said you were feeling things- it’s a normal thing.. instead you had me thinking you had a bad dream again or something.” you shook your head, relief washing over you despite your scolding.

the former mercenary kept his gaze elsewhere, grumbling quietly under his breath. “it’s not so easy to say ‘i’m horny, do something about it’. feels awkward, okay.”

you found yourself rolling your eyes before you pushed yourself up, lavender colored sheets sliding off your body as you moved to situate yourself between his legs. “i suppose it’s blunt, but i don’t mind it. we’ve been together for over a year now.. and have known each other for several more.” you reminded him tenderly, leaning down to peck his lips softly. “if you needed ever needed to.. indulge.. i’m more than willing to do so, at your consent.”

cloud found himself shuddering at the words that spilled over his rosy appendages, rouge splashing across his his nose and cheeks at your boldness. while you had been confident, in contrast to how he behaved and presented himself.. this was a side he had yet to see from you — and goodness.

“but- it’s late..” he muttered back, aware that you had to wake up early to help tifa out at seventh heaven by daybreak. it was tedious work and he knew you weren’t one for getting up at first light.. cutting into your sleep felt criminal.

however your expression seemed unchanging, having made up your mind already, from what he concluded.

“and?” you pressed, hovering over his face. “i won’t be that long, and besides — we live in a society where coffee exists.” you reminded him, clicking your tongue before placing a hand on his hip. “i’ll be fine.”

his back nearly arched at the light caress, but he forced himself to be completely still, eyeing you with furrowed brows for a moment longer before exhaling. “are you.. sure about this?”

a quiet laugh tumbled past your lips as a knowing smile crossed your lips. “would i be offering to help if i wasn’t?”

it was a fair point, and although cloud wanted to continue denying himself for the sake of you getting rest.. he found himself succumbing to his intrusive thoughts the more he stared up at you.

“i guess not.” the blond concurred after a brief silence on his end, averting his mako tinted hues. “you’re not gonna let this go, are you?”

the eager shake of your head was enough of an answer as he closed his eyes in defeat. “okay, fine.. just take it easy on me, it’s..” he paused, pursing his lips together.

“your first time?” you finished in a hum before letting out a giggle when he didn’t answer. “it’s okay, i thought so.” you assured him, hooking your thumbs onto the waistband of his boxer briefs. “if it gets too much, you can tell me.”

a nod of confirmation was all that was needed for you to fully tug down his undergarments, a hiss leaving your lover’s lips as the frigid air caressed his most intimate part.

gingerly, you wrapped your hands around his shaft, never missing the gasp he failed to suppress as you pumped him slowly.

cloud’s hand flew to cover his mouth, eyes squeezing tighter as wave of ecstasy washed over him — gradually erasing the previous discomfort he’d felt.

in all his years, other than that massage back at the wall market of sector six, he’d never been touched in a way like this. a manner that sent bolts and sparks of pleasure down his spine, electrifying him in every possible way.

but the spiky haired male was too shy to ask for help on the rare occasions that he’d found himself pent up. all that fighting quelled any need for sexual release.. but now, with little to no battles to partake in these days, those late nights he’d spend away on deliveries were often occupied by his hand.

“f-fuck, y/n..!” he breathed out, feeling his legs tremble from the pleasure you had created.

you continued at an even pace, sliding your attention back over to boyfriend’s features when he called your name out. “does it feel good?” the answer was abundantly clear, though you felt the need to ask, anyway. couldn’t hurt to be safe.

he nodded his head rapidly, flushed skin glimmering under the glow of the moon. “ngh- f-faster, a-aaah~ please..” he whispered back pleadingly, tears gathering at the corners of his lashes.

it was truly a sight to behold — a part of cloud no one else had witnessed but you. and you had been the reason for his expressions, the noises he made — his reactions.. all of it was by your work.

wanting him to reach his high, to see the stars you had hoped he would see on your first time together, you quickened your ministrations, rolling your thumb over his tip. it was a little adventurous, but his moans was all the encouragement you needed to continue.

in an attempt to address your own aching heat, you slipped two fingers into the thin fabric of your panties, dragging them over your aching bundle of nerves before sliding them into your entrance.

a prolonged sigh escaped your lips, feeling your walls loosen around your fingers with each thrust while your partner became undone at the mixture of his own euphoria and the mere sight of you.

it made him strangely jealous, as he wanted to be the one to please you.

with a shaky breath, he reached down into the drawer of his nightstand for a familiar packet, carefully tearing it open when your breathing transitioned into panting.

you hadn’t even noticed that the self proclaimed ex-SOLDIER removed your hand from his cock, nor had you caught sight of him sliding a condom over himself.

no, it wasn’t until he grabbed your hips and brought you forward that you’d removed your hands at the brush of his tip against your clit, grasping ahold of his shoulders as a whine left your lips. “h-haahh~ cloud..” you drawled out in a needy beg, arching your back just slightly.

and that was all he needed to take you at last, sheathing himself slowly into your warmth.

he brought you impossibly closer to him at the squeeze of you against him, a staggered pant spilling past his appendages as he buried his face into your neck. “s-shit — was that too much?”

“n-no!” you refuted a little louder than planned, shaking your head. “j-just, one second.. a-and you can move..”

despite his worry, he took your word for it, exhaling lowly as he felt you shift.

with another sigh, you rested your chin on his shoulder, allowing yourself to nod. “o-okay, i’m good..”

cloud took it as a sign to continue as he pulled out slowly before plunging back into your core at an equal pace, steadily falling into an appropriate rhythm.

the stars you had thought of before in regards to cloud’s pleasure entered your vision at last when he nailed that special spot of yours.

“a-aahh~! cloud-!”

your whines and cries of his name was fueling enough to continue hitting that same spot, feeling you crash down on him harder.

“almost.. t-there..” he reassured you quietly, and perhaps even himself as well.

the knot coiling in your stomach was on the verge of snapping, one thrust away from unraveling completely.

in light of that, cloud captured your lips in a climatic kiss, swallowing your cries of elation when you met your end at last.

covered in a sheen of sweat, the blond gave you two more thrusts before removing himself from your dipping heat, allowing you to collapse against him.

his breath was far from even, yours no better than his own as he gazed up at the ceiling, eyes half lidded. “we should.. probably clean up..”

a tired laugh escaped you, having put together several other phrases he could have started with.. but then you reminded yourself that this was cloud strife — your very awkward, but adorable boyfriend.

“don’t w-worry,” you assured, sucking in another dose of air. “we will..”

notes. good grief i haven’t written smut in ages, i hope this was decent.. i feel like i’ve lost my touch😔 but wishing you a great day too, anon! along with anyone else reading this filth🫡

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hoakaikapo · 3 months

Text

ATTRACTION - Clarisse La Rue x Unclaimed! Fem! Reader

summary: you and clarisse don’t get along, but you both can’t deny that there’s some sort of attraction between the two of you.

warnings: mention of blood

a/n: LOL, sorry this is a huge huge rush draft because i’m working on my ff of clarisse but i just needed to write this out. enjoy!!

—————-

The feeling of a metal blade burned throughout your body as it made contact with your skin. You looked down, blood gushing out of the newly formed wound. It was deeper than your usual cuts. You grunted at the sight of it. You were used to this feeling of getting injured in whatever you did, so you let it bleed out as you charged back at your opponent. You weren’t going to let a measly little cut get in the way of your soon-to-be victory.

You were unsure what was burning in you today to crave victory this badly. Maybe it was because you felt discouraged that she had yet to be claimed. Maybe it was the urge to prove your worth amongst your fellow campers. Maybe it was because your natural nemesis, Clarisse La Rue, was your opponent, the only thing standing between your victory.

The sound of your swords clashing against each other was like music to your ears. You could make up the symphonies in your head, the movement mimicked that of a passionate musician playing their chords. You found sword fighting similar to watching a symphonic orchestra, ones that your mother would take you to when you were younger. You imagined the violinist: their bow gliding across the strings like how a swordsman would glide their sword through their enemies. You imagined the pianist: their hands striking each key like a fighter using their weapon to protect themself and fight back. You saw how each component played into each other, how they created the perfect symphony.

For you, these movements would create your victory.

As much as you hated Clarisse, you also hated to admit that your arch nemesis sword skills were remarkable. In your opinion, Clarisse was an even better fighter than yourself. The only thing that kept her from winning half of the time was her extreme lack of strategy. But, given that she’s the daughter of Ares and extremely hot headed, you figured that strategy never really ran in Clarisse’s blood. You figured that at this point in your sparring, Clarisse would have found some way to cheat her way to a victory. Surprisingly, she was fighting fair and square the entire time.

The arena was packed as far as you could see out of the corners of your eyes. A few campers have to sit on the stairs. You never understood why everyone anticipated this fight. You and Clarisse fought almost all the time in every single encounter you had with each other since you arrived at Camp Half-Blood. However, you figured that maybe the fact that it was for a title or proper victory made it really appealing to the others.

“Are you ready to give up?” Clarisse teased, a sly grin coming over her face. “That cut on your arm looks nasty.”

“Not as nasty as you, La Rue,” You spat back at her. Clarisse growled in response.

You took your stance, repositioning yourself into a much more comfortable position where you could defend herself better. The strategy that you had been using was useless, so you quickly came up with a new one: tire Clarisse out, let her swing at you all she likes until she’s tired. Clarisse began striking her ten times harder than she previously did– as if she was trying to kill you. With every strike, you were able to block it, just barely before Clarisse would strike again. And again. And again until you had managed to swiftly roll from one of her swings which narrowly missed your head.

Finally, Clarisse was getting tired. You could see it in the way Clarisse stood before you; the rising and falling of her chest indicated that while her eyes looked slightly unenergized. You could feel your stamina rejuvenating, like lightning bolts across a stormy sky. With that, you began your counterattack on Clarisse, using your sword to strike as if creating your own symphony.

A swift kick to Clarisse’s left leg and she fell. You - clumsily - landed on top of her due primarily to your lack of balance. You held her sword over Clarisse’s throat, just a few centimeters away from making contact with her skin. You could see the rage in Clarisse’s eyes and feel her anger beneath your body. However, Clarisse did not argue or yell at you. Instead, they stayed in that position; their breathing heavy and slowed, almost in perfect sync, as the arena erupted into applause and cheers for you.

The locker room was empty. Or so you had thought. As you were dressing your wound, you noticed a figure standing in the doorway, leaning against the frame.

“You took a cheap shot,” Clarisse’s voice was husky with anger. “Kicking me down like that.”

“Well, I’m not the one who maimed their opponent, aren’t I?” You responded and pointed to your bandage.

Clarisse rolled her eyes. “You clearly don’t know what the word ‘maim’ means since your arm is still mobile.”

“Oh, wow, I guess you do have a brain after all. Good for you.”

There was something about you that made Clarisse despise you. Maybe it’s the fact that you were remarkably good at sword fighting, especially since you had just bested her in your competition. Maybe it’s how seemingly perfect your features were. Maybe it’s the fact that ever since you arrived at camp, Clarisse could feel that something was … oddly forbidden and unfamiliar about you.

“Well, I’ll get you next time,” Clarisse said and walked over to you close enough to where you could feel Clarisse’s breath on your face. That’s another thing you hated: Clarisse was taller than you - much taller. It gave Clarisse a better advantage of being more intimidating to the other campers. “A little unclaimed child like you shouldn't have bested me anyways.”

You would have punched her right then and there. Instead, you looked up to meet Clarisse’s eyes and placed your hand on her chest. You gently began to push her backwards until the taller girl’s back hit the locker room wall and made sure your face was directly underneath Clarisse’s.

“Aww, is the daughter of Ares salty that she lost in a fight to me?” You cooed and slowly lifted your finger underneath Clarisse’s jaw, bringing it slightly closer to yours.

You noticed the taller girl became more tense. A good thing, in your opinion. You watched as Clarisse’s eyes followed your every movement. An even better thing. A slight blush arose to Clarisse’s cheeks as you glanced at her, almost doe-eyed. Lips parted slightly, You slowly came closer to Clarisse’s face.

Clarisse wasn’t sure what to anticipate. Sure, you two hated each other, but sometimes, you would have these moments where you would flirt and tease her. Shamefully, Clarisse would do the same thing. It drove her crazy sometimes, which could explain her dislike for you at some points. She could never fully explain the energy between you and her. It was far too complicated beyond just pure hatred.

“I’ll see around, La Rue,” You whispered softly into her ear before walking out the locker room, leaving Clarisse to wonder what exactly just happened.

#clarisse la rue #clarisse pjo #percy jackon and the olympians #dior goodjohn #fem oc #clarisse x reader #clarisse la rue x reader

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luveline · 1 year

Note

would you ever consider writing poly!marauders? or even more of the luna reader with platonic (or romantic) marauders?

if u have more poly!m requests please send them (to clarify this is romantic) fem!reader tw cut

"You should be more careful," Remus says, "really, dove."

You lean back against the kitchen counter and try not to wince as he finishes with the dressing on your arm.

"I am careful," you say.

He laughs softly. It's a rare sound, kind that has you smiling immediately. You wrap your arms around his neck, careful not to press down on your injury, and kiss his neck quickly.

"Thanks for fixing me, handsome," you say.

Remus pats your back. "That's never something you have to thank me for… You might like me less when the boys come home."

You pull away. "You texted them?" you ask, already resigned to your fate.

He looks gorgeous even when you're mad at him, pale skinned but dark in his way, dark eyes and dark brows and his amazingly handsome nose that makes you wanna lean over and kiss him.

"Afraid so." Remus squeezes a path up your arm to your shoulder. "You know the lashing they'd give me if I didn't."

"Well," you murmur, "I suppose you did patch me up."

He kissed your forehead as the sound of the front door opening echoes down the hall. "That's the spirit."

"Angel?"

You relax. It's James, which means you aren't in for a loving telling off, just a loving. You stay by Remus' side until James is in view, a shock of green rugby uniform stark against brown skin. He sheds his bag and you practically throw yourself into his open arms, 'cause usually that's exactly what he wants.

"Wait wait wait!" he says, holding out his hand, his wrist brace scratchy against your arm. "Don't hurt yourself worse! What happened?"

You fight him, trying to hug him and laughing when he holds you back like you're nothing. He's strong. "James, come on. I cut it on the garden fence."

He makes a sound like he feels super sorry for you and finally lets you hug him, your face in his solid chest, your hands at the small of his back. You settle in for as long as you want, James and you both suckers for a good hug, and sigh as his cheek kisses the top of your head.

"You okay, Moons? You look tired." James voice rumbles through your hear, low and warm.

"Fine. She just shocked me, running in the house with blood dripping down to her elbow."

"Give us a hug."

"I'll make tea."

James turns his lips to your forehead, "How come he'll hug me when we're alone, and he'll hug you all day long when you're together, but he's totally allergic to affection when we're together?"

"He's shy," you mumble, "ask him again in an hour and he'll say yes."

The door opens a second time and you'd hide your face pretty much in James' armpit, laughing through the horror. "Hide me."

"No, I don't think so."

James works your face away from his chest, hands held over the soft slopes of your shoulders. He looks you in the eye, all melty brown and sweetness. "Sure you're okay?" he asks.

You hum. He kisses your cheek.

"Okay, I'm gonna go harass Remus for a hug then, before he boils the kettle and threatens me with a scalding. Love you."

"I don't love you, you're leaving me for the wolves."

"I'm hardly a wolf," comes Sirius' amused drawl.

James raises his eyebrows at you in a silent gesture for Good luck, angel, and disappears around the corner to the kitchen.

You sigh and spin on your heel, finding your arch nemesis (concerned boyfriend) propped against the wall. He's in casual work attire, which for Sirius is a smart pair of trousers and a dark button down with the sleeves rolled up. His tan seems to have waned in the winter, leaving him pale. Though he often claims in a joking manner that it's a consequence of loving you, he's always so worried it steals the colour from his skin.

I like to worry, he'd assured you once.

"You might not believe me, but you look very handsome today," you say.

He raises a dark brow. "You say that every day."

"Emphasis on 'very,'" you say.

He pulls his weight off of the wall and holds out his hand as he approaches. You let him take your arm, let him assess the small dressing bandage Remus has applied over your cut.

"It was deep," you admit, "but not very long."

"Mm, Remus said," Sirius says, near murmuring as his thumb works into your wrist. He rubs over unbroken skin gently. "Does it hurt?"

You shake your head vehemently.

"Swear?"

"Why would I lie?" you ask. You smile at him. "You really do look handsome. And you didn't need to come home from work."

"It's my lunch break."

"Oh, good! Let me make you something, while everybody's home."

"Or I can make you something," he suggests.

You enter into a stare off. He faces you with little expression, a blank slate. A pretty blank slate. His lashes don't so much as flicker, while you struggle to keep a straight face under so much seriousness. Your lips twitch with a laugh and something about it must break him, because he takes your face into his two hands and presses your noses together.

"You make it very hard to be sensible about things," he says, and gives you a chaste kiss.

His lips are a warmth you savour, and he steals them back much too swiftly for your liking.

"Remus is the sensible one," you deny. "You're the overprotective one. And James is… James." You sigh, lovelorn. "And I'm the stupid one who cuts herself on chicken wire. You really didn't have to come home."

"I wanted to."

He leads you by the hand into the kitchen, where James and Remus stand in front of an unboiled kettle, Remus face smushed into James broad shoulder, a muscled arm locking him into place. He looks quite happy.

"Sorry, I'm still making tea," he says into James' sleeve.

"No, I'm gonna make dinner," you say, yanking Sirius to the lovefest.

You worm under James' other arm and Sirius strokes at the hair curling over Remus' forehead, mumbling, "Oh, god, she's killed you."

"Worse ways to go," Remus says.

#poly marauders #poly!marauders x reader #poly!marauders #poly!marauders x fem!reader #remus lupin x reader #james potter x reader #sirius black x reader #the marauders #the marauders x reader #the marauders fanfiction #poly marauders x reader

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futureplayboibunnie · 7 months

Text

lil Mafia Boss! Miguel O’Hara x fem! reader drabble

Warnings: NSFW, depics of violence, blood, some steamy stuff but not too much, sooo much dirtytalk.

You were many things. But you weren't naive.

That wouldn't be an issue if Miguel couldn't talk his way out of hell and right into those pearly gates. His manipulation and sweet talking were just another thing that made you hate him and attracted to him amongst many other things

He was an asshole. He was a powerful Mob Boss. He was your husband and your arch-nemesis. You both loved playing these little games that would send the other down a spiral of paranoia and obsession- it lit a fire under both of your asses. It made you meaner, sharper, stronger

Miguel told his men to take shots at you, haphazardly, making sure they all missed for the sole purpose of scaring you to make you behave and see how valuable his protection was . You weren’t scared, you were pissed and filled with rage. You blew up one of his lackey’s cars, he watched it burn in front of him, if he had gotten into the wrong black beauty of a Lamborghini, he’d be a pile of ashes.

You both poked and prodded, messed and obsessed with every step you made. It was like a Greek tragedy. You outsmarted him some days. He outsmarted you some days.

But after all of it, you were still married, still husband and wife. When he fell for you, he fell hard. You were the daughter of of one of the most renowned gangster in the country, Miguel had to pay his dues to earn his respect- and in the end it payed off. Your father blessed your marriage and that night was a dream above all dreams. The honeymoon was beautiful too, every night was filled with passionate and messy sex and every day he spent with you he fell more and more in love.

But Lord did you test his patience, it was something that you were born to do. He was angry and channelled his rage through many illegal mediums.

Yet you always let him back in.

You’ve been doing what you’ve been doing for the past few weeks.

Waiting up for Miguel.

Waiting for him to come home.

He said he had something to take care of and hasn’t shown his face since. And here you were, waiting for him like a Park Avenue trophy wife. Your wine was making you more anxious than tipsy as you glared at the clock, the fireplace in front of you not warming your body from this strange fear of a man you hate and love. It was nearing 1am.

Then you heard it, the door opening and closing and the rustling of expensive shoes hitting the marble of the foyer, then a jarring clank of keys hitting the holder.

Your breath got lost in your throat, eyes widening when you saw Miguel’s figure. His white shirt was bloodied and his fists were bruised and raw. It’s not his blood, but he did have a cut on his eyebrow. You scoffed as you stood up from your seat.

But that didn’t stop you from both charging at each other, wanting to see each other up close.

“I hate you.” You said with a scowl but what was it all for when you both embraced each other seconds after.

“I believe you.” He said coldly but he knew you meant it. Your head rested on his shoulder and he could smell the shampoo you used earlier tonight. A sweet orchard, green apple. Yet your sweet scent didn’t transfer to yout personality. You didn’t like to sit still and play house.

You were an antagonizing bitch.

He was a heartless bastard.

Yet here you were.

Hating each other, yet seeking each other’s company.

“I hate you.” You repeated much firmly this time and Miguel gripped onto your cheeks and pulled your face up so he could glare at you.

“I said I believe you…I haven’t believed anyone in a long time.” He muttered, but his tone was harsh. Unamused eyes searched yours for an answer but instead he found contempt and sadness.

“You left for weeks….I hated you every second of it.” You spat out but your words couldn’t be brutal when you were this sad.

Miguel’s grip on your face softened, the pads of his fingertips tracing on the outline of your chin. “Now that I’m back…do you still hate me?” He was asking with genuine concern for some reason.

“Yes.” You whispered but your legs started to tremble as the word rolled off of your tongue. Miguel frowned indignantly and huffed out, taking his turn to pivot the conversation to him just ordering you around again.

“I don’t want you leaving the penthouse. I don’t want you outside while I deal with these bastards-“

Your choked breath cut him off. “Is that all you’re thinking about right now? I can’t fucking believe you.” You scoffed, his gall was truly outstanding, of course he had to do this right now. You weren’t purposefully trying to fan the flames to Miguel’s anger but he wanted to treat it like you were, he was already annoyed for ruining one of his best shirts with the blood of subspecies and now he has to deal with you bitching and moaning…and not in the way he liked. “You know what Miguel-“ He directly stopped your words by gripping onto your waist and neck and sitting you on the dining table. You struggled against his hold but it all proved to be fruitless.

“You’re gawking at me like an idiot right now.” You insulted but he was way too far gone now, the crimson of his eyes migrated to a deep ring of burgundy- he was already pissed and you just had to play with him the wrong way.

“You’re beautiful that’s why.” He said endearingly, like he was cooing at you but his serious expression really contrasted that.

“You’re flattering me because you wanna fuck?”

“You asked me if you staying here is all I’m thinking about right now and in fact, it’s not.” Miguel placed a palm on your chest and pushed you flat onto the table, hard. Your eyes were half lidded weapons, scrutinising his every move- and dare he think, he loves it, because he always proves you wrong.

You were his wife, his bitch, his cumdump. You both may hate each other but you always needed each other in this way.

No one else could make you cum otherwise, no one else memorised your body like he did. How couldn’t he? He loved you…once.

You like to think these outbursts are impactful and grand displays of independence but no, you’re Miguel’s lover and you’re gonna act like it.

Hmm. You always looked so pretty in this silk robe, but the fact that your nipples were peaking already under the thin fabric told him all he needed to know.

“I was thinking of you today when I was killing my competition’s men, while I got blood on my hands.” Miguel’s calloused palms splayed onto your smooth legs, feeling up and down teasingly, riding up your robe. You arched against the table already.

Shit, you didn’t mean to.

��The others said that my mind was wandering. I could see their mouths open and close but I couldn’t hear a single word come out..” He said huskily, you gasped when he ripped open your robe, revealing your naked and beautiful figure under him. The only thing that could ever get him off. He dipped his head between your legs to were your thin barely there panties were, he ran his nose over the fabric and inhaled softly. “I could smell you.”

You blinked up at him in confusion, you didn’t know what to feel. You were mad but so aroused…and in the weeks he’s been gone you hadn’t been able to pleasure yourself at all. He looked vicious and mean, your husband was ruthless and sometimes….sometimes it was so fucking arousing, you couldn’t help but squirm and struggle underneath him.

“You wanna know what I did? You wanna know who the man you married is really like when he’s not at home?” His head raised up to your ear to mumble hotly, you jolted and struggled when his hand suddenly went to your already sticky folds.

You weren’t sure if you even had a choice, so you stayed silent, your expression akin to that of vacant displeasure….but oh, were you lying. Your face was about to break.

“I shot them in the kneecaps and beat them until they were barely breathing, but would you believe the way they died was by suffocation?” He chuckled lowly, his fingers teasing your already sloppy entrance.

“F-fuck…are you talking about?” You tried to fight back the moans collecting in the back of your throat but you couldn’t help it.

“They drowned in a puddle of their own blood and I put them there.” Miguel rasped firmly in your ear, his tone and body language becoming very intimidating and…scary. “The bastard’s blood got on my fucking shoes.”

Your husband only wanted to protect what was his. His fingers plunged inside of you, feeling up and down, circling around. You whined out.

“One of them I knew, he went to my fucking highschool hermosa. I called him my friend. But the worst thing occured to me, I imagined him on top of you, my wife, the woman that loathes me so. I saw him tasting you in my head and that’s what made me kill him. You. Just because you sit up here in this untouchable palace doesn’t mesn you’re any cleaner than I am. You’re just as depraved as I am.”

His eyes were beating with a scorching red, his lips were curled into a visicious snarl and at this moment, you knew he was right and that made you want him that much more.

You were his lover.

He wanted you to act like it.

Even if that meant being exactly like he was.

Heartless.

(I deleted my other mafia Miguel fic because I wasn’t sure if i was gonna make it a bigger fic or not and I felt like if i kept it up it would’ve been confusing or something? I’m playing on the same ideas in this fic dw)

#spiderman 2099 #miguel ohara #miguel o’hara angst #miguel o’hara smut #atsv miguel #miguel o’hara #miguel o’hara fluff #miguel o’hara x reader #across the spiderverse #miguel o'hara

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cevansbrat0007 · 4 months

Text

Sweet Tooth

Summary: Ari gets inventive when he finds himself in the doghouse with you. Be sure to check out the follow-up drabble, Sweet Tooth Deluxe!

Warnings: Smut, Mature Themes, Ari Being A Menace, Arch Nemesis', Dominant Ari, Aprons, Arguments, Oral Sex (fem rec mentioned), Spanking (mentioned), Pussy spanking (mentioned), Pet Names, Cursing, Violent Thoughts, Minors DNI

A/N: Written for @honeygngergemini. Part of my Sweet Renegades Series. Semi-proofread, not beta'd. All mistakes are my own. Likes, comments, and reblogs are always appreciated. Thanks for reading!

Ari leans back in his chair, one long leg coming to rest atop his knee as he levels a hard look at Officer Milton Foster. He scrubs a tired hand over his face, his mind working overtime to process what the young man had just said.

“But that makes zero fucking sense.” He grumbles, groaning when he sees Milton just shake his head.

“Aye, man.” The dark-haired deputy throws up his hands. “You asked me where I thought you went wrong and I told you.” He turns in his office chair to spare a quick glance at his computer. “Do not shoot the messenger.”

“No one’s being shot, alright? I just don’t get the logic behind any of the shit you just said.”

Couple that with the fact that you’d been icing him out for the past several days for reasons unbeknownst to him – which had left him in a god awful mood. He missed you. Your laugh, your warmth, your smile.

All of it.

Not to mention that deliciously curvy body that had been keeping him warm at night. He really missed that. More than than anything he needed a fucking kiss.

But you were ignoring him. And Ari had discovered pretty quickly that he didn’t like any of it. Not one bit.

So, he’d turned to what he felt like was his only ally in this god-forsaken town: the newly minted sheriff’s deputy, Milton Foster.

“So you’re really trying to tell me that the reason my woman is pissed at me is because I ate Charline Marshall’s pecan pie at the town potluck, liked it, and asked for seconds.” Ari smooths an annoyed hand over his bearded face. Trying to understand Bell’s Creek’s local politics could really do a number on a person.

“And don’t forget that she purposely dropped your lady’s bramble berry pie on the ground.” Milton does a quick spin in his chair. “She tried to pretend it was an accident, but most of us know better. Charline Marshall has eyes for you and I think she might be ready to make it known.”

“I’m pretty sure that I couldn’t even pick that woman out of a lineup.”

Milton simply shrugs before taking another spin in his desk chair. “You’ve got a lot of admirers, Mr. Bounty Hunter. A man like you blows into town…well, you’re downright exotic. Every single red-blooded woman under 75 wants a taste.”

Ari visibly shudders before crossing his legs at the ankle. He didn’t want anyone else. This particularly surly Bounty Hunter wanted you. He only wanted to eat your food. Enjoy your sweets. Fall to his knees and devour the fuck out of your pretty little pussy.

“Hard pass, buddy.” Your lawman sighs. “I didn’t know shit about the pie incident. I mean, how could I when she was barely talking to me or anyone at that party?”

“Not saying it’s your fault, big guy. Logically, what would you have been able to do if she had told you?”

Ari looks up at him, his piercing blue gaze never once leaving the young deputy’s. “I would’ve taken her back to my place and spent the rest of the night making her feel better. I would’ve done everything in my power to take my girl’s mind off that petty shit.”

“Mmm.” Milton murmurs as understanding suddenly dawns. “I really don’t wanna get too deep in your business, but your lady is like a sister to me.” He leans back in his chair so that he can kick his feet up on his desk. “We used to play on the playground together as kids. And full disclosure, she used to beat my ass.” The deputy chuckles as he begins to recount all the way you used to be a tiny force of nature.

“I…can see that.”

“Yeah. Yeah. Anyway, I think your original plan was a good one.”

“Meaning?” Ari leans over to take a sip of his now cold coffee. It tasted like shit anyway, even when it was hot. In fact he longed for you, his BIrd, to make him one of your little caffeine-infused concoctions – preferably while wearing nothing but his shirt.

So he could also take a bite out of that luscious ass while you refreshed his mug. After all, he was a man who prided himself on his ability to multitask.

“Meaning, you need to find a way to distract her while making your point.”

“Meaning?”

“Meaning, you’re a smart fuckin’ guy who set his sights on someone who could easily be the most stubborn woman in the whole damned state.” A smirking Milton offers up a salute with his can of Dr. Pepper. “That’s for you to figure out. All I can do at this point is wish you luck.”

“Thanks.” Ari grunts, wishing that he had a better idea of what to do with you.

Oh, rest assured that he’d figure it out. You were too important to him not to. He just hoped you’d find it in your heart to take it easy on him for his mistake.

The Next Day

You wake up to the smell of cooking sausage wafting into your room. It makes you smile as you stretch your arms over your head. Your stomach growls in agreement, subtly reminding you that you’d neglected to make dinner last night.

Oops. You hadn’t meant to forget, it had just happened. Normally you would end your night with speaking to your Beast of a Bounty Hunter, who always made sure you ate. But lately, you have been both mad at him and embarrassed.

Because at a recent town potluck, Ari had eaten your rival’s pecan pie. Now, you weren’t children, but this had also been after she’d purposely sabotaged your own dessert by accidentally dropping it on the ground.

Charline pretended that it had been a mistake. But the way you’d witnessed her laugh after the fact. And then she’d fed your man, reveling in every minute. You’d known her pecan pie was dry, but Ari had seemed to enjoy it. So much so that he’d asked for a second piece.

Which was fine, except it had hurt your feelings. And you hadn’t been sure how to relay exactly relay that fact either. So you’d clamped down. You’d bottled up.

And as a result, your poor, sweet man was suffering. Which meant you needed to apologize. But you weren’t quite sure how to go about it. As you sit up, you vow to yourself to give him a call today. As soon as you sat down and enjoyed your breakfast.

And then it occurs to you. You weren’t the one cooking. Which meant someone was in your house.

You spring out of bed and grab your Louisville Slugger that you always kept nearby. Taking a deep breath, you quietly make your way down the stairs, your trusty bat poised to take a swing at whatever moron who’d chosen to take up residence in your kitchen.

Baring your teeth, you crest around the corner on bare feet, ready to make your presence known.

“You gonna hit me, Bird?” Ari muses as he adds a dash of salt, followed by pepper to whatever it is he’s got cooking in the skillet. Your flippin' skillet. “Is that really how this ends? You take me out while I’m being kind enough to whip us up some breakfast?”

Momentarily flummoxed you find yourself lowering your weapon in favor of taking in the scene before you. This man – your Bounty Hunter – was currently standing in your kitchen clad in nothing but an apron.

Your apron. And yet somehow it fit him better

“Wh–what are you doing?” You ask him, letting your baseball bat clatter to the floor at your feet. You wouldn’t need it. You were safe with this man, but only to a point. “And how’d you get in?” You hadn’t given him a key yet.

That was supposed to be a present for later.

“Eh.” Ari shrugs, flipping a pancake with surprising skill. “Maybe I saw my gift and swiped it after the potluck. Maybe you weren’t listening to me and I couldn’t get a read on you, so I had to be an asshole and make an executive decision.” He turns away from you to drop a finished pancake on a plate, giving you a fantastic view of his perfectly muscled ass.

“You mad?”

“N-no.” You respond as you feel your thighs clench. God, how you wished that you’d come down here wearing pants. “I was actually planning to reach out to you today. Can I ask what you’re doing?” You shiver as you feel your thighs grow damp, your traitorous pussy working against you.

You should be mad that your Beast had broken into your house. Instead you were happy to see him with a much deserved apology ready to fall from your lips.

“Making you breakfast. Chocolate chip pancakes, eggs, and sausage.” He adds another delicious pancake to the stack. “I’m gonna feed you, and then I’m gonna fuck you, and make you rethink ever ignoring me again.” He purrs, the intoxicating rumble coming from somewhere deep in his chest.

Fuck you were so wet it was almost embarrasing.

“I’ve earned the rights to that tight little pussy, baby. And when I make a mistake like I did with that goddamned Charline, I want you to tell me.” Ari turns off the range, pulling the food off the heat and onto a plate.

“I’m sorry.” You murmur, both hating and loving the way your nipples pebble beneath the thin fabric of your oversized t-shirts. Actually, it was one of his. A detail he also seemed to notice. “How can I make it up to you?”

Ari studies you for a moment, his handsome face tilting to the side. And then your eyes stray to the sight of his impressive erection. You watch as one of his big hands reaches down to fist his hard cock, pumping it once. Twice.

“You can start by going back upstairs. I want you naked, on all fours. I want to come up there and feast my eyes on your soaking wet cunt.” His heated gaze bores into your own, making your already drenched core spasm one more. “And you’d better be wet for me, otherwise I’m gonna spank it. And you.”

“O-okay.” You find yourself taking a step back, your hand clutching at the wall.

“I’m gonna eat it baby.” Ari growls, his voice filled with a mix of unbridled lust and determination. “I’m gonna make that pussy fucking cry. And you’re gonna fucking take it. You hear me?”

“Yes.” You whisper, resisting the urge to reach down as you stroke your eager fingers over your throbbing clit. “Yes, Sir.”

He takes a menacing step towards you, his body delighting in the way that you shiver. You’d been bad. Which means it was time to pay the price. And what better man to exact that payment than your own handsome, 6”4 Beast?

“And then I’m gonna fuck you in front of that brand new mirror I bought you. I’m gonna show you who owns that beautiful body and remind you why it’s important to talk to me when you need me.” Another menacing step. “And then I’m gonna feed those delectable curves after I’ve had my fill.”

“And then…” He tilts his head from side to side, cracking his neck. “You’re gonna let me kiss it all better while I make love to you.”

“Y-yes, please.” Right now you were willing to give this man whatever he wanted. Whatever helped you atone for your supposed sins.

“There’s a good girl.” He intones as he unties the apron, leaving him naked and aroused in your simple kitchen. “Now run.”

END

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yandere-wishes · 10 months

Text

The Perfect Girl

Summary: Somewhere along the line the villain won and the hero lost. Now your life is nothing more than a cautionary tale.

Part #2 of Imposter Syndrome but can be read as a stand-alone. Part #3 The Spider's web

Warnings: Dollification, yandere themes but like more than usual, abuse, violence, horrible Spanish, NO NSFW but the reader and Miles are 18+. Friends to enemies to one sided lovers. This plays out as a cautionary tale.

Author's note: Can you tell I'm bad at writing Intimacy??😂🤣

You squirm uncomfortably on Miles's lap. Arms awkwardly thrown around his neck as you try to hide your face in his chest. Miles sits proudly, face void of emotions and voice overflowing with authority. He's barking orders to his underlings. For what you're not sure, you've long since stopped listening in on his conversations, your inability to do anything coupled with the innocent lives you know would be destroyed was enough to keep you awake at night. And consciousness was the last thing you wanted these days.

It's been six weeks.

Six weeks since the Prowler defeated New York's last beacon of hope. Six weeks since he'd been welcomed into the Sinister Six as their newest member. They're shining star.

Six weeks since he stole you away from everything you knew,

everything you loved.

You hear the padding of feet and the loud thump of the door. You're alone with him again. So the nightmare begins anew. You're reluctant to lift your head, to face your capturer. You hate him, you hate him, you hate him. It's funny how once, back when you'd still wore your beloved silk mask, you had used to count the minutes until your midnight rendezvous.

Miles's fingers reach towards you, tilting your chin up. His smile is razor sharp, deformed as if he can't quite remember how to smile. "Muñequita" he mutters like a disjointed prayer as his fingers glide up your side. Drowning you in a sense of impending doom.

You stare into his eyes. Two voids that have seen every nightmare imaginable. Any saint, any sweet innocent boy whose been trapped inside the darkness for this long comes out as a monster. Stumbling through the night with knives instead of teeth and an appetite for destruction. Miles Morales may have been a human once, a long time ago. Before you met him, before the savior of New York met him. But now he's a monster, one who has long since buried any morals and dignity he may have once had.

Sometimes when the night rages on and you're caged between his arms and sentience. you wonder if maybe, just maybe you should go digging for any of the virtues that he's buried six feet deep. But when he laughs and tauntingly presses on a new bruise with his thumb, you conclude quickly that it's better to leave his good qualities dead. it's easier to hate him that way.

"How does it feel to sit in your arch nemesis's lap?"

He jabs as he pinches your cheek. You let out a soft cry of annoyance as you shift your gaze away from your tormentor.

Miles revels in your fall from grace. Adores pinching and probing you in front of his minions or the rest of his gang members. Loves taunting you after every failed escape attempt. You try to bite his finger, to make him feel a fraction of your pain. But before your teeth can graze his skin, he releases your cheek. He laughs, low and fragmentary. A haunting noise that reminds you that he barely counts as human anymore, just a heartless ghost masquerading as a real boy. "Trying to rebel again mi amor?".

You fight the urge to pick at the flesh of your face or bite your fingers until you reach the bone.

Miles's eyes narrow, annoyed at your lack of a response. He's growing bored, he always does when his pet refuses to play along. His gauntlet reaches for your neck. Squeezing as the claws bite into your flesh.

you should let him kill you, give him the final satisfaction of watching your blood blemish the skin-tight dress he's made you wear. Watch as the life leaves your eyes. "let's try this again mami. When I ask, how it feels your response should be.."

"I love you Miles" you mutter, all deadpan and defaced. "Not like that say it the way I taught you" he hisses, a threat, you note wearily.

"Te amo Miles"

"Bino"

Sometimes you think that he's foolish enough to believe your reprised lie. It almost helps him deceive himself into believing he still has a soul left.

He thinks he loves you.

You think he doesn't know what love quite is.

You use to be a hero, use to be revered and respected by all. You use to be someone, someone important. Laminating about all of this now will do you no good.

You're nothing more than a doll now. Painted and dressed the way Miles likes, posed forever perfectly on his lap. Flaunted and paraded as all prize trophies should be. You guess it makes sense. To the victor goes the spoils. You wonder if you would have done the same to him if you had emerged triumphant that night. Deep down, where logic doesn't reach, you know you would. At least you would have let him keep his dignity. You're not like him, you're not a villain...

But you're not a hero anymore either. What are you supposed to be anyway? When questions like this bubble into your withering mind. You force yourself to choke down the idea that you're still good, you have to be. You're not like him, like them. You're afraid that someday you'll look in the mirror and every ounce of your virtues will have evaporated. You promise yourself that that'll be the day you do something drastic. To yourself or Miles, you're not sure yet.

Miles's fingers trace the indents on your neck. Angry red puncture holes left by his steel claws. He buries his face in the crock of your neck. Licking the measly blood drops from the wounds before tenderly kissing his territory. "Stop it" you grumble trying to push at his chest. But he just growls in warning, ignoring your feeble attempts. "I got you a present, Mami" he whispers over your jugular. You flinch, as he detaches from your neck with a final kiss. He maneuvers you off his lap as he gets up and walks over to a closet on the other side of the room. Plucking out a necklace from one of the drawers.

Necklace is a generous term. Its neck tight and studded. With a silver chain hanging dead-center that speaks of horrors untold. You know what it implies, you know what he's trying to say, trying to prove. You never thought you'd miss the Prowler's iron glad punches to your stomach but you think this might just be worst. At least back then you'd been able to fight back. Reimburse every punch with a kick or stab of your own. Now you are helpless, frail. Broken glass perpetually embedded in soft cotton. Something wild, something tamed. Golden specks of a crown long since shattered tint your hair. All ghosts of who you once were.

"What do you say, muñequita," He says. In a tone that's sick, in a tone that's sweet. Like rotten nectar trickling down a destroyed paradise. Like boiling blood dripping from a broken heart. There's a click, as he fastens his present around your neck. An endless second before reality comes crashing in.

"Gracias Miles" You reply as you feel your last shard of freedom disintegrate.

You use to be something, someone. Carved from porcelain ideals and ivory hope. Divine ichor ran through your veins as you swung across New York's skyline. You had been chosen, but you hadn't been enough.

Now it feels like someone tore you apart. Ripped away your flesh, your bones, your thoughts, your soul. Stitched you up wrong with a rusted needle and a thread of ash. And all you could do was sit there and watch as your golden blood seeped through ruptured veins.

Miles grabs your shoulders. Pulling you close enough so the spikes of your necklace cut into his flesh. His lips bite yours teasingly before they finally merge into a dreadful kiss. He isn't the Prowler you remember, albeit you know that's wrong. He's not the Prowler you had fabricated when you'd thought that the two of you were both innocent souls driven to madness by this city. You use to think that Miles was beautiful, a moon-kissed face with stardust dripping from his eyes. Now you know the truth. He's nothing more than a nightmare, the embodiment of starless darkness and the terrors that lurk upon blackened city streets. He's not your friend. He never was. You were just so foolish and overwhelmed back then.

"You're mine, héroe." His voice is nothing short of a dagger laced with venom. Spreading apathetic poison from your heart to your lungs and leaking into your bloodstream. You see blood behind your eyes when your eyelids shut. Feel the apprehension pounding in the hollows of your bones.

You've long since hemmed every hole where your pride and glory use to bleed through. But it's so hard to keep divinity down when it's all you've ever known. This life isn't yours. This thing that Miles has forced you to be isn't you. There's still hope, you think. Heroes never lose hope. It's a lesson everyone learns, sooner or later.

Later that night Miles kisses you again, this time whispering how to him you are perfection personified. The dark circles under your eyes and bloody knuckles validate that. He traces circles on your arms whilst telling you about how the Sinister Six plan to expand their operations to the next city over. All this makes you wonder if he'd ever been a sweet little boy, tucked under his mother's arm, whilst his father kisses his cheek. Of if he's always been a merciless monster who wears his kills like honor badges.

You pray under your breath as he reminds you that you're no longer a hero. You wonder if you pray because you are human or if praying makes you human. There are still some fragments of hope bubbling inside you regardless of what he says.

Miles likes to remind you that you no longer have the power to save anyone. That the villains won and the heroes lost and that's the way this story ends.

You refuse to believe him.

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spencerreidswhore187 · 3 months

Text

Statistically Speaking

Summary: One drunken night, whilst undercover in Vegas, you and your least favourite colleague, Spencer Reid, accidentally get married.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x g!n Reader

Word Count: 4.3k

T/W: Mentions of alcohol and guns

——————————

The neon lights of Las Vegas blurred as the night unfolded. Undercover on a high-stakes case, you and Spencer Reid—your arch-nemesis—found yourselves thrown into the midst of the city's wild energy. For some unknown reason, the two of you had never got on. You were always fighting, arguing and trying to sabotage the other. Well, unknown to Spencer. You only hated him because he made it clear how much he didn't like you from day one - not that you’d ever admit it.

The team had sent you to a casino, undercover as a couple, trying to get a lead on an arms dealer. Instead, you ended up drowning your frustrations and differences in drinks. The night was a whirlwind of laughter, shared secrets, and surprisingly genuine moments. The alcohol flowed freely, clouding your judgment. Before you knew it, you were stumbling back to your hotel room in the early hours of the morning.

Waking up with a pounding headache and a hazy memory, you groggily opened your eyes to find Spencer lying beside you.

“What-”

A flicker of panic surged through you as you noticed a glint on your finger. You held up your hand, squinting at the unexpected sight of a ring.

The band was adorned with small, twinkling crystals that encircled a modest yet sparkling diamond like a constellation.

"What the hell happened last night?" you muttered to yourself. The memories were fragmented, like pieces of a puzzle waiting to be put together.

Spencer stirred beside you, rubbing his temples and blinking against the harsh light. His eyes widened as he slowly processed where the is and the ring on your finger. A moment of stunned silence passed between both of you before he spoke, his voice a mix of confusion and realisation.

"Did we... get married?”

As the weight of Spencer's words hung in the air, you exchanged bewildered glances, both attempting to unravel the mystery of the events that transpired the night before.

"I can't believe this," Spencer mumbled, his voice a mix of disbelief and mild panic. "We were undercover, trying to gather intel on that arms dealer. How did we end up married?”

Pieces of the previous night's escapade start to slowly come together in your mind. Flashes of laughter, clinking glasses, and a hasty decision made in the heat of the moment flood your memory. The realisation hit you both simultaneously, and a burst of nervous laughter escaped your lips.

"We might have, uh, taken the whole 'cover' thing a bit too far," you admit, a sheepish smile forming on your face.

Spencer runs a hand through his tousled hair. "This is... unexpected.”

The sound of urgent footsteps outside the hotel room door interrupted your awkward exchange. Both of you tensed.

"We need to figure out how to handle this," Spencer whispered to you. "But for now, let's focus on the mission. We can deal with the aftermath later.”

As Spencer finished his sentence, a knock echoed through the room. You exchanged a quick, determined glance before Spencer moved to answer the door.

It's the team - Hotch, Rossi, Prentiss, Morgan, Garcia and JJ - ready to discuss the next steps in your undercover operation. Your mind races as you Spencer opens the door.

The team filed into the hotel room. Hotch surveyed the room with his usual intensity, immediately honing in on you and Spencer sitting side by side at the table near the bed. There's a momentary pause, a subtle shift in the atmosphere that doesn't go unnoticed. They know, you realised.

"Reid, Y/N, any new developments?" Hotch asked, his gaze lingering just a fraction longer than usual.

You and Spencer exchange a quick, almost imperceptible glance. Spencer, ever the master of composure, began discussing your latest findings and the potential leads in the case. The team, however, seemed more interested in the unusual dynamic in the room, enjoying the peace and quiet from your constant bickering. Morgan shot a knowing smirk at Rossi, and Prentiss raised an eyebrow, her perceptive gaze fixed on the two of you.

Garcia couldn’t help but interject with her trademark enthusiasm. "Lovebirds, got any post-mission plans? Maybe a little honeymoon action in the city of sin?”

Your cheeks flushed, and Spencer raised an eyebrow at Garcia's comment. The team's reactions ranged from amusement to curiosity. They exchanged glances, clearly aware something had happened between the two of you.

"Let's stay on track,” Hotch commanded. “Y/N, Reid, ensure you're maintaining cover without any compromises. We can address any personal matters once the case is closed.”

The case at hand revolved around an elusive arms dealer known for supplying weapons to various criminal organisations. The BAU had been tracking a series of illegal arms transactions across the country, all leading back to a shadowy figure with connections to international criminal networks.

The latest lead pointed to Las Vegas as the epicentre of the dealer's operations. The city's bustling nightlife, intricate web of contacts, and numerous potential buyers made it the perfect hub for illicit activities. The team suspected that the arms dealer was planning a significant deal that could have far-reaching consequences, possibly involving a dangerous new weapon on the market.

Your role, alongside Spencer, was to gather intel, getting as close to the operation as possible by posing as a couple interested in the arms trade.

“We have reason to believe the unsub will be dining at the Aurelia Elegante tonight,” said Prentiss.

“Garcia, can you get a booking there for tonight?” Asked Hotch.

Penelope tapped away on her laptop, giving the team a thumbs up after a few seconds.

“Y/N and Reid, you will both have earpieces and we’ll be waiting in the van around back. Do your best to blend it, do your best to interact with him without raising suspicion. Does everyone understand?”

The team nodded. As the door closed, leaving you and Spencer alone again, the weight of the situation settled in.

——————————

"You know," Spencer started adjusting his tie as you walked towards the entrance of the restaurant, "I never thought I'd have the pleasure of going on a fake date with my sworn enemy.”

"Enemy? Really, Reid? Isn't that a bit dramatic?" you retorted, rolling your eyes.

Spencer smirked, his eyes gleaming. "Just trying to keep things interesting. But don't worry, I'll make sure our marriage is the talk of the town.”

"Let's focus on the mission, shall we?" you replied, masking a smile. "And for the record, we’re arch-nemeses.”

He chuckled, a hint of amusement softening his usual seriousness. "We'll see about that.”

"You know, for someone who claims to have an IQ of 187, you're surprisingly lacking in social skills," you quipped, your eyes narrowing at Spencer.

He shot back with a sardonic grin. "Well, I'd rather be lacking in social skills than tact, Y/N.”

“Wow. You’re hilarious,” you deadpanned.

As you entered the restaurant, the conversation subsided. The team's instructions echoed in your earpieces, guiding you toward the unsub’s location.

Once seated, Spencer leaned in, his eyes glinting mischievously. "So, how do you think our fake dating story should go? High school sweethearts reunited by fate? A spontaneous, drunken wedding in Vegas?”

You scoffed, playing along. "More like sworn enemies forced into a twisted partnership."

His lips curled into a wry smile. “Ah, the classic love story.”

The waiter handed you both menus, and you shifted your focus to the task at hand. As you scanned the room, you caught sight of a figure entering the restaurant—a man whose demeanour exuded confidence and authority. You had spent endless nights awake researching the arms dealer and there was no mistaking that this was him.

Spencer discreetly nudged you, his eyes flicking toward the approaching figure. "Looks like our guest of honour just arrived.”

The arms dealer, known by the alias "Black Serpent," made his way through the restaurant, exchanging nods with select individuals. His presence commanded attention.

Maintaining your cover, you and Spencer continued your conversation, occasionally glancing in the unsubs direction. The challenge now was to find an opportune moment to engage him in a way that wouldn't raise suspicion.

As the evening unfolded, the tension in the air grew. The arms dealer seemed engrossed in discussions with his date, making it difficult to approach him discreetly. The team, monitoring the situation from a distance, communicated updates through your earpieces.

Finally, as dessert arrived, the unsub stood from his table.

There was a shared moment of silent understanding between you and Spencer. The team's voices hummed discreetly in your earpieces.

Hotch’s urgency pierced through the calm facade.

"Stay calm. We need to keep him here," Hotch advised.

Spencer, despite his usual composed demeanour, couldn’t hide the flicker of concern in his eyes.

The menus in your hands suddenly felt heavier, the challenge of keeping him engaged without raising suspicion became more critical with each passing second.

Hotch's voice broke through the static.

"You need to distract him. Find a way to keep him here," Hotch instructed, urgency lacing his words.

In a moment of panic, you discreetly slipped the ring off your finger and passed it to Spencer. He caught on instantly and, with a deft move, took the ring into his hand.

As the arms dealer starts to leave, Spencer seizes the opportunity, his face lighting up with a mix of charm and faux sincerity.

“Y/N, I have been waiting months to do this," Spencer said, dropping to one knee and holding out the engagement ring.

You play along, feigning shock and delight, covering your mouth with shaking hands.

A ripple of surprise moved through the surrounding tables as patrons shifted their attention to you and Spencer. Even the unsub paused, watching curiously to see how this turned out.

"Remember that time in Chicago when we stumbled upon that bookstore trying to get out of the rain? It didn’t matter that you were drenched, you were entranced by the old books. I watched you drag your finger across their old spines as you hummed to yourself. There was a small, beautiful smile on your face as if someone had told a joke only you were privy to. At that moment, I knew there was something truly special about you," Spencer continues, his eyes locked onto yours.

You had been on a case a year or two ago when that happened; you didn’t think that Spencer had remembered.

The surrounding tables become hushed as Spencer continued.

"I've witnessed you at your best and your worst, Y/N. Through it all, I have been nothing but enamoured by you. I-I love you, I always have. Even during our occasional bickering," he added, a playful smile playing on his lips. “Will you do me the honour of being my wife?”

"Yes," you responded, the word escaping your lips with a hint of genuine emotion. Momentarily, you forgot this was all fake, an act, a performance. Momentarily, you forgot that you and Spencer were not the only people in the room.

The boundaries between reality and the undercover performance started to blur, and a haze of uncertainty clouded your thoughts. In that split second, you had to keep reminding yourself that this was a charade. The charm in Spencer's eyes feels genuine, and for a heartbeat, you entertain the notion that he truly, truly loved you.

But then, reality came crashing down.

The earpiece buzzed with updates from the team, snapping you out of the fleeting illusion. You remembered the undercover mission, the arms dealer, and the necessity of the proposal diversion.

Amidst the applause and cheers from the surrounding tables, you play your part, feigning surprise and joy as Spencer slips the ring onto your finger.

Distracted, you watch the unsub start moving towards the exit. Spencer dropped several notes on the table and grabbed your hand as you two rushed off to follow him.

You and Spencer navigated the alleyway. There, at the end, the unsub had started a deal in a shadowy corner, several metres away from you.

Spencer pulled you close against him so you could discretely observe, waiting for the right moment to take him down.

You were still rattled by Spencer's words, his unexpected description of that rainy day in Chicago. There was this weird feeling in your stomach. You were shocked annoyed and irritated that you had been lost in the act. But the most confusing thing was that Spencer had not yet let go of your hand.

"That was quite the performance, boy genius. Didn't know you had it in you," you whispered, a teasing glint in your eyes.

Spencer smirked, "Well, necessity and whatnot, Y/N. And you played your part quite convincingly too.”

But the arms dealer must have heard you as he cocked his gun, aiming it towards you as he shouted “Who’s there?”

Spencer didn’t miss a beat; he grabbed your face, pressing his lips to yours. You didn’t hesitate, the kiss was unexpected but you knew what he was doing - keeping up appearances.

The kiss started tentatively but soon your movements became frantic and desperate. As the seconds pass, you couldn’t help but feel a strange connection, a hint of something beyond the act.

Real or not, if you knew he was this good a kisser, you would have married him much earlier.

Spencer's hand, warm and steady, found its way to the small of your back, pulling you closer. The dampness of the alley beneath your feet and the impending chaos seemed inconsequential at this moment.

As you pulled away, you dropped Spencer’s hand. Putting on a sweet, fake smile you walked towards the unsub.

“Ohmygosh I’m so sorry,” you gushed. “This is so so embarrassing! I thought we were alone out here, oh gosh.” You walked towards the unsub who seemed momentarily taken aback.

“We just got engaged, you see!” You explained, gesturing at Spencer who hesitantly hovered behind you.

“Congratulations,” said the man hesitantly. As he spoke, you widened your eyes, discretely trying to indicate what you were planning to Spencer. He seemed to understand.

“Show him the ring, babe,” Spencer said.

Excitedly, you raised your hand to show the unsub the ring. You had to admit, although it pained you, Spencer had good taste.

As the unsub leaned in for a closer look, you seized the opportunity. In a swift motion, you grabbed his wrists, pinning his arms behind his back as you spun him around and handcuffed him.

You read the dealer his rights as Spencer chased after the figure he was selling to.

——————————

After the successful arrest of the arms dealer, the team dispersed. You offered a quick "goodnight" to your colleagues. You hoped Spencer, ever observant, didn’t notice the subtle tension in your demeanour. As you made your way to your room, a flood of conflicting emotions overwhelmed you.

Entering the quiet solitude of your room, you couldn’t shake the residual confusion from the case. The success of the operation was overshadowed by the unexpected array of emotions you had started to feel. Especially the lingering disappointment that none of it was real.

As you prepared for a restless night, a knock interrupted your thoughts. You opened the door to find Spencer standing there, an uncharacteristic nervousness in his demeanour. "Can I come in?" he asked, his eyes searching yours.

You open the door wider, letting him enter. The atmosphere in the room was charged with an unusual tension. "Um-" you begin, but Spencer speaks at the same time, “So-“

The simultaneous interruption elicited a brief, nervous chuckle from both of you, breaking the ice just a fraction. Spencer took a step forward, his eyes searching yours for a clue about what's on your mind.

Spencer hesitated for a moment before speaking, "I noticed something was bothering you back there. Are you okay?”

You glanced at him, conflicted emotions swirling beneath the surface. "It's just been a long day, Spencer. Successful mission, but there were some…unexpected moments.”

He nods, seemingly understanding, but the tension between you remained palpable. An awkward silence descended, unusual for two individuals whose interactions usually consisted of insults and jibes.

"You know," he started, his voice softer than usual, "we make a good team when we put our differences aside.”

You raised an eyebrow, surprised by the unexpected sincerity in his words. "Are you saying you enjoyed our date tonight?”

Spencer smirked, a hint of humour playing on his lips. "It was surprisingly effective, and you played your part convincingly.”

The tension eased a bit. ”Well, don't get used to it. This doesn't mean I like you," you retort, but there's a subtle twinkle in your eye.

Spencer chuckled, the atmosphere shifted from awkward to slightly more relaxed. "Fair enough. But seriously, if something's bothering you, you can talk to me. We're a team, after all.”

You hesitate for a moment, the conflicting emotions from the undercover mission and the unusual connection with Spencer weighing on you. "It's just... tonight felt so real. And... um, we were drunk and got married in Vegas? I’ve not really processed that yet.”

Spencer's expression shifted, a flicker of realisation in his eyes. “We’ve been so busy with the case we haven’t discussed it yet. Do you remember much?”

It all started coming back to you then: the laughter that echoed as you and Spencer stumbled into a chapel, impulsively deciding to partake in a makeshift wedding ceremony.

The Elvis impersonator, a short figure in a bedazzled jumpsuit, was the officiator. Grinning as you and Spencer, caught in the whirlwind of a drunken escapade, prepared to exchange vows.

Spencer's usually reserved demeanour seemed to dissolve in the face of the unexpected festivities. His eyes, usually focused, held a glint of unbridled amusement. The corners of his lips curled into a rare and somewhat goofy smile as he faced you.

The Elvis impersonator, with a theatrical flourish, prompted Spencer to begin his improvised vows. Spencer, swaying slightly on his feet, cleared his throat, a nervous playing on his lips.

“Uh, Y/N, where do I begin?” Spencer began, his words punctuated by the occasional glance towards the glittering jumpsuit-clad officiator. “I, um, I suppose I've never been good at expressing, you know, feelings. But, well, here we are, in this... unique situation.”

The crowd of tipsy onlookers erupted in laughter. Spencer’s gaze locked onto yours with a strange sincerity in his eyes.

“I've spent pretty much my entire life analysing statistics, probabilities, and patterns," he continued. “But, Y/N, you're the most unexpected, unpredictable variable I've ever encountered. And, um, that's strangely…fascinating.”

A ripple of laughter and cheers echoed through the chapel.

As the officiator prompted you to exchange rings, Spencer fumbled with the small band, his usually nimble fingers betraying his drunkenness.

It was your turn for vows. You took a deep breath, locking eyes with Spencer, and slurred, “Spencer, Spence, we might be, like, a weird match, and usually, you're my, uh, adversary - especially when we're both sober. But, in this super strange moment... what's the word? There’s nowhere I’d rather be. Yeah, here, with you.”

Laughter erupted again, and Spencer's eyes met yours with a mix of surprise and genuine delight

“You're the anomaly in my carefully calculated world, Spencer," you continued, a playful and gentle smile gracing your lips. "So, here's to embracing the unexpected, facing the unknown, and, well, defying the odds.”

With a theatrical flair, the officiator declared you “partners in crime” and, to the cheers of the onlookers, pronounced you “sort of, kind of, legally bound by the power vested in a tipsy Elvis impersonator.”

As the laughter echoed through the chapel, you and Spencer, gently swaying together in an attempt to stay upright, sealed the moment with a brief peck on the lips.

Spencer’s nervous chuckle brings you back to the present.

"Well, at least our drunken alter egos know how to keep things interesting," he remarked, a nervous smile playing on his lips.

You couldn’t help but laugh. "Who would've thought.”

Both of you settled onto the end of the bed, the reality of the situation sinking in.

"So, technically, we're married," you said, a wry smile on your face.

Spencer nods, a hint of amusement in his eyes. "In the eyes of an Elvis impersonator, at least. I don't think that holds up in court, though.”

The laughter continued, a strange sense of camaraderie emerging. The usual jabs and insults were replaced by a more genuine exchange as if the bizarre circumstances of the last 24 hours had lifted a veil.

“It's just surreal, you know? One moment we're at each other's throats, and the next, “ you paused to do air quotes, “we're legally bound by the whims of a very tipsy Elvis.”

Spencer leant back, mirroring your contemplative expression. "Life has a way of throwing curveballs, especially in our line of work. I never would've predicted this turn of events, but here we are.”

The room was filled with a sense of shared understanding and, for a moment, the complexities of your lives seemed distant. It was just Spencer and you.

The laughter and banter gradually faded, leaving a moment of quiet introspection as you and Spencer sat side by side on the edge of the bed.

As the silence stretched, Spencer took a deep breath, his gaze fixed on some distant point in the room. The air was thick with anticipation as he finally spoke.

"Hey, so, um, I know our dynamic is... unconventional and I've been terrible at expressing it. But you know, statistically speaking, couples that bicker a lot actually tend to have a longer-lasting relationship. It's this paradox of communication and—"

Your eyebrows raised in surprise, and you turned to face him, cutting off his rambling. "Spence, are you trying to tell me something here?"

He stumbled over his words for a moment before taking another deep breath. "Yes, exactly. I mean, not about the statistics. Well, yes, about the statistics, but also about us. I've liked you, like, romantically liked you, and statistically—"

You couldn’t help the smile that spread across your face at the endearing awkwardness of Spencer's attempt to express his feelings. "Spencer, you don't need statistics to tell me that. I get it."

His eyes widened, a mix of relief and surprise. "Oh, good. I was worried I might have overwhelmed you with the statistical details. You know, statistically, most love confessions—"

You decided to cut off his statistical analysis in the most effective way possible. With a sly grin, you grabbed Spencer's tie and pulled him towards you, closing the gap between you. His eyes widened in surprise, but there was a hint of curiosity in them.

The kiss starts tentatively, Spencer, initially stunned by your bold move, quickly caught on. His lips were softer than you remembered, different to when you had kissed in the alley - real.

There was a moment of hesitation, a silent question hanging in the air—do you want this as much as he does? Your response was an enthusiastic one; the kiss deepened.

Spencer’s hand finds its way to the small of your back, a gentle yet firm grip that pulls you closer. Your own hands navigate the planes of his shoulders, the fabric of his tie feeling smooth against your fingertips.

As you pull away, there's a shared moment of breathlessness between you two.

“We have one more night in Vegas, maybe I could show you around.”

The simplicity of his suggestion caught you off guard, and you couldn’t help but smile. The idea of Spencer Reid nervously asking you out is endearing in its own right.

"Are you asking me on a date, Spencer?" you teased.

He nodded, a hint of a smile breaking through his usually serious demeanour. "Yeah, I guess I am. I mean, technically, we're already married," he adds, a chuckle escaping him.

You laughed at the irony of the situation. “True…we did have that spontaneous Vegas wedding. But yes, I'd love to go on a date with you.”

"Great. I'll, uh, figure something out. Something... not statistically likely to go wrong.” Spencer said.

Mustering the confidence to ask, you turned to him. "Did you mean what you said in the restaurant...about Chicago?"

"I meant every word." Spencer's eyes never leave yours.

"I thought we were rivals, arch-nemeses, sworn enemies? I thought you hated me"

"I hated the way you made me feel, I've not been able to stop thinking about you since you first walked through the doors of the BAU."

You smiled.

“So Reid, what’s the statistical probability that Hollywood will turn our story into a full-blown romantic comedy?” you quipped, a mischievous glint in your eye.

“Well, if we factor in our unpredictability and the inherent chaos of our lives, it's safe to say we're defying statistical norms.”

You laughed, "So, what's our romantic comedy title then? 'Undercover Hearts' or 'Marriage by Probability'?"

Spencer paused, considering the options. "I'd go with 'Mathematical Mismatch.' It has a certain statistical ring to it."

You playfully nudged him, "Well, as long as it's not 'Statistically Ever After,' we should be fine."

Spencer raised an eyebrow, "Are you implying our story won't have a fairy-tale ending?"

You smirked, "Oh, I'm sure it will be a uniquely chaotic and statistically improbable ending, just the way we like it."

——————————

A/N: Thank you for reading ◡̈

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ashiemochi · 7 months

Note

hey bestie <3

I’d like to request a birthday smut with death island! Leon please and thank you 💕

wrote this on phone bc im on a trip and my phone is actually starting to drop dead so </3 time for a new phone ig. But!! here's something 💕 (don't point out mistakes or weird formatting, my phone is ASS)

Leon never liked being late in any way.

Traffic was his arch nemesis because it always resulted to him getting late to work – which also resulted in numerous lectures from his higher-ups.

Another thing he hated; alarms.

Those fuckers either don't do their jobs or are just for show – or maybe he should be getting a new phone or an actual rooster to cock-a-doodle-doo at the glimpse of the sunrise.

Late to events were even worse than mundane things. The amount of times the President would give him a look that simply said "you're late and I'm not impressed" were endless. It wasn't like he had much of a choice when he'd be fresh out of a mission or an assignment that he'd wear the wrong colour of suit, or mismatch his socks in a hurry.

Not to mention. Fucking. Traffic.

However, there was one thing Leon for sure hated the most, absolutely revolted at the idea.

Missing your birthday.

Much to his shitty worse line of luck, he was ordered to rush to the Alcatraz Island for an assignment. To his luck, some deranged guy with a bucket load of issues and untreated trauma decided on a random Sunday at church that he was going to be playing God and start an outbreak via mosquitoes.

Leon was never going to catch a break. All the time at the island, the agent couldn't stop thinking about how to make it up to you. Even when he was infected with the virus and minutes away from losing his last bits of humanity, you were on his mind all the time.

When he returned home, you had opened the door to a bruised and bandaged up Leon with a bouquet of roses in hand. A tired but apologetic tilted grin was on his face, his side leaning against the doorframe.

"Happy... Late birthday, sweetheart..."

While he didn't expect you to be mad at him, a tiny nagging something within him relaxed when you were nowhere near upset. Your worry and glee that he was back in one piece made you forget about your birthday, your arms residing around his neck into a tight embrace where his arms went for your waist – where they belonged.

But the flowers weren't his only way of apologizing – because what started as a simple reunion kiss turned into something more and hotter.

"Oh, fuck..."

His voice was breathy right next to your ear, nearly over clouding the creaking sounds of the bed. His skin was searingly hot against yours, your body painted with hickies and lovebites. Galaxies and nebulas in all the right spots, painless and painful.

Yet they were tomorrow's problem.

His hand was pinning your wrist to the mattress, the other gripping the back of your knee to push it back against your chest. His fingers were digging into your flesh, his hips moving in a perfectly powerful rhythm that had your mind reeling.

"Oh, god... Ah, Leon–nhh~" Your moans were his favourite sound. A sex playlist would usually be on, but on nights like these, it'd be just you and him.

His cock was diving into your pussy, emitting that moist gushing noise the harder he moved. Your clit was throbbing with how intense the pleasure was for you, bringing you a lot closer to yet another orgasm. You really tried to keep track of how many times Leon had made you cum, but after four, everything just became a mixed haze of lust and longingness.

Leon grunted lowly, his blueblue eyes observing your expressions sharply. His lips were parted for your own favourite sounds, his groans and growly moans sending shivers to your core; red and swollen from the countless hickies on your body and kissing you.

Those lips of yours were absolutely intoxicating.

The blunt tip of his bigbig cock was slamming into your walls, going almost rogue as your arousal and previous orgasms dripped and dropped to the drenched sheets.

You never knew you could squirt, but Leon was confident in his skills. It took time, and god was it worth it.

Your face was flushed, your free hand on his back with your nails digging into him. You could feel his toned muscles flexing and shifting right beneath his skin. Your gaze trailed up to him, your moans and soft whines escaping nonstop.

"L–Le– f–fuck, you're too," You keened, your other leg wrapping around his waist, whimpering as your walls squeezed hard on his thick dick, "deep!"

"Oh, yeah?" Leon muttered, the corner of his lips irking upwards into an amused smirk.

That was the last thing you heard before he released your wrist only to switch his grip to your other leg. He hooked both legs into either of his elbows, pushing them onto his shoulders and easily tugging you close to him his figure towering over you completely. His cock hit that spot in you, bringing stars to your eyes with a hitched squeak.

His whole length was inside, especially when he leaned over you, causing his pelvis to brush against your needy pearl. His hands returned to your waist to keep you pinned in place, his hips relentless as he pounded into you.

"Mmh, that's deeper, isn't it, honey?" Leon hummed, his thrusts growing ruthless as he fucked you with vigour, pushing a moan from him, "Oh, fuck... You're just so fucking wet and tight for me..."

"Nnh! Oh, g–god! Leon!" You cried out, your body starting to tremble and your arm joined the other around his back, your nails forming angry red crescent moons, "S–shit!"

The pleasure was looming once again, the knot within you tightening more and more. Leon's hips were out of his control, revealing he was just as close to his peak as you were.

Leon groaned, his eyes screwing shut for a second as he felt your walls starting to clasp around his cock as if trying to feel every ridge and bulging vein on it. His toes curled up on the bed sheets, his thighs tensing.

"Oh, fuck, fuck..." Leon let out a choked sound, his desperation to release causing his voice to break and hitch into a lower octave.

"Leon, I–" Your moans cut you off, whining as your legs trembled over his shoulders, "'m gonna, ah!"

Leon's lustful eyes found yours, for a second his love for you spilling through the thick dirty haze and he couldn't help but feel every so grateful for having someone to return home to.

Someone to fight for when the world's going to shit.

His lips met yours hard in a searing heated kiss, your breathless moans making it a bit difficult but it all felt just right. It ticked you off first when he dove his cock to the hilt, pistoning into your squelching cunt and pressing up against your clit.

A loud moan went muffled, swallowed by him as he groaned against your lips. The white-hot pleasure rattled your bones, coiling around your muscles at the intensity that your back arched off the bed. Your gushy walls clamped tight around his cock, consequently pushing him straight to the peak he craved.

His lips parted from yours to push his face into the crook of your neck, his hips stuttering to a stop flush against yours as if trying to keep his twitching cock as deep he could. His groan was, if not, just as loud even when he obviously tried to stay quiet. His cum spurted out thickly, filling you up so good and so warm. You could almost feel it in your tummy at this point.

A shaky exhale escaped from him, his hips moving again but at a slower pace, gently riding you both down from your cloud nine. He panted heavily as he moved his face away from your neck, his eyes shut as his lips peppered kisses from your jaw, cheek, inching closer to the corner of your lips before sealing them with his.

You faint hum merged with his, your hands kneeding and massaging against the angry scratches on his back. His hips retreated slowly, slipping his cock out that was still visibly twitching and his cum seaping and dripping from the red tip. A string of his climax connected between him and your abused cunt.

Leon parted from the kiss, his sweaty fringes dangling with the tips brushing against your forehead. One of his hands reached up to the side of your face, his gaze doing their usual scan to make sure you were okay and that he didn't go too far.

"I'm okay..." You whispered softly, your voice just as breathy as you brushing away his bangs which only dangled wetly about so your hand rested on his neck, your thumb tracing the stubble across his jawline, and with a faint giggle, "And I forgive you."

Leon chuckled, his eyes growing gentle as he caressed your sides gingerly, "Good, maybe I should start missing your birthdays a bit more, yeah?"

You huffed, lightly smacking his shoulder, "Don't push it."

"Yeah, yeah," He smiled before carefully setting your legs back onto the bed which they only fell limply, still shaking and he squeezed your thighs, "Okay, I'll get us water and something to drink, then we'll continue."

That made you blink, confused as you tilted your head to the side, watching him as he sat at the edge of the bed with his eyes trying to locate his boxers at least. With a soft groan, you pushed yourself up onto your elbows, giving him a puzzled look when he stood up and slipped on his undergarment.

"Continue?" You repeated, your heart starting to pound once again, "We're not done?"

Leon gave you a look as if you had grown another head and he approached you, his hand pressing into the pillow next to your head and the other tilting your chin up with just his index and thumb.

"Of course we're not done, birthday girl." Leon grinned, his nose brushing against yours, "Still gotta make up for our anniversary."

Way to go for Leon asking you to be his on your birthday.

#leon kennedy #resident evil #leon s kennedy #cupid answers #leon scott kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #resident evil infinite darkness #leon s kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x reader smut #leon kennedy thirst hours #leon #leon kennedy smut #resident evil death island #leon kennedy death island

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victimsofyaoipoll · 6 months

Text

Finals

Propaganda Under Cut

Sakura Haruno

Her husband is gay and her author doesn't know how to write women. So many people say she's the worst but she. DESERVES. BETTER!!! Save her from this franchise.

My baby girl my bestie my best friend. She committed the crime of um being written by kishimoto who both doesn’t know how to write women and somehow writes men in the gayest way possible specifically naruto and sasuke. Like the thing is naruto and sasuke ARE gay and also she gets so much hate for the crime of kishimoto writing her one dimensionally in love with sasuke. I know her personally she is a butch lesbian to me just trust me she’s in love with Ino and has a lesbian thing going on with Karin okay just trust me. My everything. She needs to divorce the loveless lavender marriage she’s in

What is there to say, even? The OG Threat to my 90s anime brain, the only woman I've ever hated with such a passion she made me turn away from the color pink. I used to write fics with my friend where she got left behind on purpose so our OCs could join the Naruto and Sasuke team instead. I loathed this bitch until I was 16 and realized the author simply couldnt write women and decided it was time to make peace with Sakura. It is not her fault she's vaguely written and obsessive over Sasuke. She deserves better. Sasuke and Naruto still should be together and Sakura shouldnt be with Sasuke but I no longer believe this because I hate Sakura, it is because I love her. She deserves a spouse who will actually put in the time to treat her like the hero she is.

Misa Amane

she gets treated in-canon the way fandoms treat female characters that Threaten an m/m ship. it's like, "oh why don't you go sit in the corner and be pretty, misa, while the Men have intelligent conversation and pretend they aren't ten seconds from fucking each other, doesn't that sound nice?" it's infuriating. and MAYBE it's better now but i remember her getting treated the same way in fanfiction too, like we all need to do just as badly by our female secondary characters as fucking tsugumi ohba, but with the added insult of making her be alternately oblivious of the relationship between light and L or actively trying to sabotage it—incompetently, of course, because god forbid misa be allowed dignity or moments of cleverness.

she's one of the first characters I think of when I consider old school fandom misogyny. The annoying bitch and clingy crazy gf allegations were AFTER HER ASS. She's also a lot more intelligent than people gave her credit for, but most seem inclined to take the Very Biased word of our unreliable, narcissistic narrator and his homoerotic arch nemesis and claim that just because she's bubbly and into romance that she's also a complete moron. Which is blatantly untrue. Everyone was afraid of Misa girlbossing too hard. Killing people and devoting yourself to the deranged twink of your dreams even though you know he'll never love you back??? Having a hardcore goth aesthetic and being so Hot even literal Death Gods are into you?? God forbid women do ANYTHING!

Not only is she the victim of yaoi culture, she is the victim of early 2000s misogyny by an author that wanted to introduce a girl character because he knew his male rivals were getting too homoerotic. She is a goth bimbo icon who portrays what I think is one of the few callouts for stan culture and what parasocial relationships can do to both the stan and the idol. The fact that she is a toxic fan of Kira and also hot, funny, sociable is tragic in its own way, which I think the author did try to touch on but was too misogynistic too really get through. Of course, she was reduced to villain status by the fandom and anime alike because she got in the way of the supposed romance in their psychological horror anime

#poll #finals #sakura haruno #naruto #misa amane #misa misa #death note

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droserapetals · 3 months

Text

And They Were Room Mates

Pairing Naoya x (f!)reader

Synopsis: Let’s see how long you last when you are paired up with your worst enemy to share a dorm for the school year. (And I’m not talking about keeping your anger in check *wink *wink.)

Content: reader and Naoya literally can’t decide who’s the dom in this dynamic. SMUT, P—>V, Dubcon, Name calling, Pet names, MDNI, Oral, blowjob, degradation, enemies to… be determined?, rough sex, unprotected sex, slight breeding kink, slight aftercare if you squint, brat!reader, characters are college age.

Note: I’m dishing out these Naoya fics like hot cakes lol. I promise I’ll upload more stories with the other jjk characters soon. Enjoy!

_________________________________

You and Naoya have known eachother for a while, and you both hate each other with a burning passion. He just has this stuck-up aura about him, which is a disappointment because he would actually be an attractive guy objectively, you’ll be the first to admit it, if he just would shut his fat mouth. You hate his cocky attitude and world view on women. Like, how is this guy stuck in the “a women’s place is in the kitchen” and “make me a sandwich, woman” way of thinking? Like get a grip. It’s the 21st century now. Knowing your conflicting views, he now makes it his mission to piss you off every chance he gets, which is just dandy. He is your classmate at Jujutsu University, so naturally you both compete against each other in your fighting skill and in academics.

Today was the day the dorm rooms would be announced, and you rushed over to the bulletin to check who your roommate was. When you read the words typed out in fine print, your stomach drops. Your roommate was going to be... Naoya?!

You furrow your eyebrows in confusion. “This can’t be right” you say to yourself, head shaking back and forth in disbelief. “I thought I’d get paired with another girl, not a guy (much less your arch nemesis) how does that even work??” You try to find someone that could help you with this error by walking down the hallway.

Naoya smirked as he saw you walking away, looking confused and upset. He knew exactly what was going on, already seeing the dorm assignments beforehand, but he wasn't about to let you switch rooms. Instead, he decided to sit back and watch all of this pan out.

It seems like all the university staff is already helping other students. The busiest times at Jujutsu University is finals week and dorm move in day so you’ve heard. When you finally make it to the front of the line to talk to the front desk about your situation they just tell you that you can be put on a waitlist and they will get back to you about switching rooms accordingly. They don’t even seem to care that you are a girl rooming with a smelly dude.

You just grumble an “ok,” and lug your duffel bag over your shoulder once more, arms getting slightly tired at the strained constant flex of your arm muscles. You weren’t expecting to go on a wild goose hunt this early into the semester.

You hesitantly make your way back to the dorm area, just ready to set your bulky bag down and think about your next move. As you begin to round the corner, lost in thought, you crash into what feels like a hard wall. You wince and step back a pace, wondering who put a wall in the middle of a hallway, but then you catch movement in the corner of your eye and lift your head fully to see none other than the cause of your stress, smirking down at you unabashedly. Your right eye twitches in annoyance.

“What do you want, Naoya?” You spat.

He smirks even broader now with a lazy expression in his eyes. Cocky bastard. "Oh, I just wanted to give you a grand tour of your new room," he said with a smug grin. "Can't wait to spend this semester with you, roomie."

You take a step forward so that you are almost chest to chest with him now, refusing to lose this war. “Oh I won’t be your roommate for long, don’t worry. I’m in the process of changing our dorm arrangements right now.” scoffing at him, continuing on past him further into the hallway.

Naoya chuckles softly, amused by your attempt to avoid him. "Oh, but you will be," he assures you, his eyes gleaming with mischief. "I have a feeling you're going to love it in our room together...”

You then realize you were too much in a frenzy to get your room changed that you forgot to grab the dorm number on the pamphlets while you were at the main office. You let out an exasperated huff and stop to pinch the bridge of your nose. This is going to be a long semester indeed.

“Where is the dorm? I need somewhere to put this heavy thing.” gesturing to the bag in your right hand.

Naoya smirks, clearly enjoying the fact that you had to rely on him for now. "Follow me," he says, brushing past and leading the way down the hallway towards your shared dorm room.

You begrudgingly follow him down the hall, growing more and more anxious at the thought of sharing a dorm with him. Hopefully this arrangement is just a temporary thing you think to yourself. You don’t think you could last a week with this nutcase.

As you approach the room, Naoya couldn't help but grin wickedly. He unlocked the door and stepped aside, motioning for you to enter first.

You hesitantly enter, looking around to take in the room fully.

You blinked, taking in the sight before you. The room was decorated in a way that was both beautiful and eerie at the same time. There were candles flickering on every surface, filling the air with their sweet scent. The room accompanied with two full sized beds on either side of the room.

You raise a brow. It’s actually nice in here you think to yourself. You quickly shake that thought out of your head as quickly as it came.

Naoya smirked, clearly enjoying your surprised expression. His gaze takes in your form, eyes glazing over slightly as his vision lingers for a moment on your pleated skirt and stockings. "Mm... perhaps this won’t be so bad after all. I'm finding myself growing a bit more open to entertain the idea of sharing a dorm."

You turn back around to look at him. “The feelings not mutual. This room might be… charming, but I still refuse to be your roommate.” You go over to one of the beds and place your suitcase next to it, then flop on the mattress with a huff.

Naoya chuckles softly, sauntering over to the other bed. He sat down, looking completely at ease in this strange, enchanting space. "Ah, but you forget that you're stuck here for now," he pointed out, arching an eyebrow at you.

You grumble, turning away from him in my bed and closing your eyes, exhausted from the stresses of the day.

You lay there for a few moments, listening to the sound of your new roommate settling into his own bed. It was both calming and unsettling, hearing him make slight noises but you pushed your discomfort aside and tried to push him from your mind as you dozed off.

You awoke in the middle of the night with a stir, eyes clouded from sleep as you take in your surroundings. You forget where you were for a brief moment, but the moonlight shining in through the lone window behind you helps quicken the process, casting the room in a faint silver glow. Soon, you put two and two together. Ah yes, your nightmare come true, recognizing your bag on the floor next to you and the spiced smell of a candle still flickering on your nightstand. You lick your lips absentmindedly looking around the room for a glass of water.

Your eyes darted to the adjoining bed briefly, noticing the covers moving up and down rhythmically, confirming in your head that you haven’t awoken the culprit in there. Your gaze stopped on the nightstand beside you, but you didn't see a water bottle or glass. With a sigh, you realized you might have to leave the comfort of bed to quench your thirst, getting up and rummaging through your bag to quickly change out of your scratchy school uniform into your pajamas while you were at it.

As you were tugging on your last article of clothing, you froze in place. The air suddenly felt heavy, and it seemed as if time itself had slowed down. In the stillness, you heard a soft rustling sound coming from Naoyas bed.

You stop in your tracks and look over to the culprit of the sound, curious to know what was going on.

Slowly, Naoya emerged from his bed, sitting up fully while his feet planted over the side of his bed. Eyes glowing faintly in the dark. His expression was unreadable, but there was an eerie calm about him that sent a shiver down your spine.

As your gaze moves lower, you realize that he isn’t wearing a shirt. In fact, he’s only wearing a pair of dark sweatpants that are loosely hugging his hips, exposing his dark happy trail that disappears beneath the waistband.

He looked… sinful.

You suppress a shiver as your gaze snaps back to his, and you clear your throat awkwardly. “Sorry if I woke you. I was thirsty...” You weren’t really sorry, but you felt like you had to fill the tension with a light hearted response. You gesture to the empty water cup in your hand, making your way over to the sink in your dorm, thankful for the convenience.

Naoya raises an eyebrow at that, his eyes trailing you as you filled up your cup and made your way back to your bed. "I wasn't asleep," he murmured softly, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips.

“Oh?” You say as you crawl into your bed, bundling under the blankets again. “Why not?”

Naoya smirked, getting up and slowly walking towards your bed. "Because I was observing you, love." He paused, leaning down close to your ear. "You seem to have forgotten that I can see you even in the dark."

Your eyes widen a bit at his words, realizing what he meant. Your cheeks grow hot thinking about him watching you change a second ago, hoping he didn’t see too much. You start to grow slightly more uncomfortable the closer he gets. “That’s pretty creepy, Naoya.” You mutter, eyes unwavering from his.

He chuckles softly, his warm breath brushing against your ear. "Is it now?" He asked teasingly, a hand reaching out to gently tug at the blankets covering you. "Perhaps. I’m willing to make it up to you, though."

“W-what are you doing?” You stamper out. shocked by his words and actions. with the blanket pulled off of you, you feel the cool air hit your skin causing you to shiver. Nipples hardening almost immediately through your sheer top.

Naoya smirks down at you, taking in the sight of your cute tank top and pajama shorts. He licks his lips as his gaze lingers on your chest, trailing over your exposed skin. "I thought it was quite obvious," he purred, his hand moving to trace lightly along your collarbone. "I'm going to have some fun with my little mouse."

“Y-you stay on your side of the room.” You stutter out, blush forming on your cheeks. “I’m trying to go back to bed, and you’re acting weird right now.”

Naoya laughs softly, his hand continuing its slow journey down your chest. "Oh, but I don't think you want to go back to sleep quite yet," he murmurs darkly.

You gulp, heat traveling down your body, causing it to warm up a little. You glance over at the man above you nervously.

"Maybe we have something each other wants," he suggested with a wicked grin. "After all, it's not every day that a guy decides to share his bed with you."

“What makes you think I want that?” You seethe, but shudder at his touch. You bite your lower lip as you shift in bed, pressing your thighs together.

Naoya chuckles darkly, pressing closer to your quivering form. "Because you're shaking like a damn leaf," he drawled, his hand slipping under your clothing to ghost over the curve of your hip. “I see the way you look at me, under all that hatred in your eyes” He whispers quietly.

You sit up in bed and stare at him in disbelief. “Where is all this coming from?” You ask.

Naoya smirks, leaning forward to press his forehead against yours. "I'm seducing you, of course," he purred. "You didn't honestly think I'd let an opportunity like this slip by, did you?"

You inhale his scent and bite your lip again, looking at his lips. “I thought you hated me.” You mumble.

"Hm," Naoya seems to ponder that out in thought. "But that doesn't mean we can't have a little fun together, does it?" He leaned in closer, his lips brushing against yours in a teasing kiss.

You gasp softly against his lips, causing him to slip his tongue in your mouth with ease. Your hands fist your bed sheets as your thighs rub together, suppressing the ache that’s growing there.

Naoyas kiss deepened, his hands gripping your hips as he pulled you closer to him. He could feel your body responding to him, and the sight of it only served to fuel his lust even more. "You know you want this."

You don’t answer him, but you begin to slowly snake your arms around his neck and kiss him back, moving your lips against his cautiously. Your body still rigid.

Naoya moaned into the kiss, his tongue dancing with yours as he continued to explore your mouth. His hands slid up your back, gently guiding you against the mattress as he pressed closer. "That's it," he whispered against your lips. "Give in to me."

He tastes sweet, like sugar and cinnamon. Why is it so hard to resist him right now?? You start to accumulate a wet patch in your panties at the observation. Your hands form a mind of their own as they run up and down his chest, feeling the hard muscles there.

Naoyas breath hitches as you touch him, his muscles tensing under your fingertips. He groans into the kiss, deepening it further as he felt himself growing even harder for you. "You like that?"

You silently nod, pulling away briefly to run your tongue up his throat to his jaw, hooking your fingers into the waistband of his pants.

Naoya let’s out a low rumble, arching his neck to give you better access. "You're so fucking bold," he growled, nipping at your lower lip. He thrust his hips forward, pressing his erection against your stomach. "I need you. Now."

“Need me?” You chuckle darkly, finding a wave of confidence wash over you. “Just a second ago you were talking big game about taking what you wanted from me.” You smirk up at him. “Lay down on my bed then.” You order.

Naoya smirked back at you before climbing onto your bed. He lays down on his back, propping his elbows up as he looks at you with hooded eyes expectantly. "Now what are you waiting for?"

You crawl on top of him on all fours without a second thought. Stopping till you were face to face with his erection. You hook your fingers in the waistband of his pants once more and tug them down in one swift motion. his cock springing free, slapping against his toned chest.

Naoya grits his teeth, eyes darkening with lust as he watched you expose his hard cock to the air, twitching up at you begging to be touched. "You're testing my limits, aren't you?" He asked, his voice a rough murmur.

You take in the sight of his now exposed erection. You hate to admit it, but it was pretty. There was a gooey pearl of precum beginning to form out of his slit, making your mouth water. His size was above average, long and thick, with a prominent vein protruding out the side of him.

“This hard already?” You tsk, shaking your head softly. “It’s kinda pathetic.” You sneer up at him.

Before he can form a coherent response to that, you take his length firmly in your hand and run your tongue along his shaft, kissing the tip with a wet smack.

Naoyas breath hitched in his throat as you then took more of him into your mouth. One hand fisting into the sheets beneath him, and the other tangling into your hair, pulling the strands away from your face to get a better view.

"Fuck," he groans, his hips jerking forward involuntarily.

His lewd noises encourage you to take him deeper into your mouth, causing you to bob up and down while you look up at him with tears in your eyes, fighting your gag reflex.

Naoya watches as you take him deeper into your mouth, his expression one of pure pleasure mixed with the slightest hint of sadistic amusement. "You're enjoying this, aren't you?" He purrs, his tone laced with a dark seductiveness.

You moan in reply, causing the vibration to send a wave of pleasure up his shaft eliciting a groan from his lips. You then release him from your mouth with a pop, and crawl on top of him, grinding your clothed cunt over his leaking shaft.

Naoya grips your hips tightly, pulling you down onto him as you ground against his hardness. His fingers dug into your skin, leaving small marks in their wake. "You're so wet," he growls, thrusting his hips up to meet your movements.

You whimper at the added friction of his hips meeting yours, causing more of your wetness to leak out of you through your shorts.

Naoyas grunts started to grow louder as the pressure increased. He suddenly flips you onto your back, and spreads your legs, ripping apart your shorts. Before you even have a chance to blink, he slams all of his throbbing cock inside of your soaking tight cunt without warning.

You cry out in shock and slight pain before he slaps a hand over your mouth, quieting the noises that leave your lips.

Naoya grins wickedly, watching your eyes widen in shock as he pounds into you without mercy. His hands grip your hips tightly, forcing you to take every inch of his length. He leans down, hot breath tickling the shell of your ear.

“You take this cock if you know what’s good for you, slut.”

“T-to much” you stutter out. drool leaking out the corner of your mouth as each thrust meets the inside of your cunt. “Slow down Naoya” you claw at his shoulders, stabilizing you slightly.

Naoya sneered, his eyes glowing with sadistic delight. He pulled out of you slowly, letting his dick rest against your entrance for a moment before thrusting back in with force. "Who's in charge here, hm?" he taunted, his voice low and husky.

Your eyes roll into the back of my head, pain intertwining with pleasure. Hating to admit that Naoya is the source of these feelings. Your hand grabs the base of his throat and squeezes enough for him to get light headed, driving him even crazier.

Naoyas hold on you tightens, his gaze fixed on yours with a primal hunger. "How adorable, trying to get your claws into me," he mused, his voice thick with arousal, despite the pressure building on his throat.

You moan low in his ear and quickly push him over onto the bed so you’re on top. You sheathe his cock back inside you without a moments notice and begin to bounce on him feverishly, hands gripping his chest hungrily.

Naoya groans, his eyes rolling back in pleasure as you took control of the situation. He arched his back, pushing up into each of your downward thrusts with equal fervor. "Fuck... you're so tight."

“Hmm” You hum lowly, hearing the smacks and squelches in your dorm echoing off the walls. “You like when I take you deep like this?” You muse, feeling his cock twitch inside of you in response. You then change your rhythm so you’re grinding on him in slow circles, teasing him even more with your movements.

Naoyas breath hitches at your sudden change in pace, his body tensing with anticipation. "God damn it... I hate how good this feels," he growled out, gripping your hips tightly.

One of your hands grabs a fistful of his hair and guides his lips to yours again in a hungry kiss. “Open,” you command, hooking a finger into the side of his mouth. He obliges without thinking, mouth parted in an “o” shape. You grab his jaw forcefully and spit in his mouth. “Swallow.” You growl, roughly patting the side of his jaw.

Naoyas eyes flashed with anger, but he didn't resist as you forced him to swallow your saliva. "You're such a bitch," he muttered between gritted teeth, his hips bucking up into yours again.

“You love it.” You chuckle, moaning louder as his pace quickens, slamming into you with a punishing speed. You double forward and grip his shoulders tight, the new angle causing causing your clit to brush against his hard pelvis repeatedly. “Ah! so good Naoya.” You whine, getting closer to your release with each passing second.

Naoyas teeth dig into his lower lip, trying to suppress the moans that threatened to escape as you brought them closer to climax. "Shut up," he growls out, his hips slamming against yours in a desperate attempt to find release.

“You fucking make me-mmph!” he closes the gap between you and bites your lower lip roughly, drawing blood and lapping at the wound there. Your eyes roll into the back of your head as you form tunnel vision for your release, slamming down on his throbbing cock at a matching intensity.

Naoyas hold on you tightened, his fingers digging into your hips as he felt himself getting closer and closer to the edge. He bit down on his lip, trying to stifle his own cries of pleasure as he felt you tremble beneath him.

Your walls start to flutter around him. “Don’t s-stop. I’m gonna cum-m~!” You drag out the last word as your orgasm comes crashing down prematurely at full force, causing you to shriek at the searing sensation washing over you, your hips spazming uncontrollably.

Naoya groans loudly, the sensation of your orgasm sending him over the edge as well. His hips bucked wildly against yours, his teeth latching onto your neck to stifle his noises as he came with a feral cry.

With each harsh spurt of cum, your body jerked, highly overstimulated at this point. You collapse on top of him now, sticky bodies mushed together and chests heaving in sync.

Naoya pants, his eyes locked on yours as he tries to catch his breath. "Damn it, you're really something else," he growled out, his fingers lazily stroking your sweaty back.

You hum at the gentle sensation of his caress, basking in the afterglow. Then your rational thinking snaps back into place quickly pulling yourself off of him with a pop, cum oozing out of your cunt slowly onto his chest.

Naoya glares at you, his eyes narrowing. "Don't you dare act like that was just some meaningless fuck," he snarled, sitting up and collecting his escaping release on two of his digits to push it back into you, not letting any of it go to waste.

You whimper, pinching your brows together as you stare at him, baffled. “Wasn’t that what this was just now? We literally despise each other.” You point out.

Naoyas face darkens. "Don't play dumb with me," he snapped, reaching out to grab your chin roughly between his fingers. "I saw the way you looked at me, the way you moaned my name. You wanted this as much as I did."

You look away from him so that he doesn’t see your face blush at his words. You mumble quietly to yourself. Well, this is going to get complicated.

#naoya x you #jjk naoya #jjk smut #naoya zenin #naoya x reader #naoya smut #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #tw: dubcon #rough kink #enjoy

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hysteria-things · 2 months

Note

I need a 3rd part with Nate soooo bad

SINFUL DESIRES (part three)

read part one here

read part two here

read part four here

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: nate x reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: you’re going on a date this weekend! oh, and the date is your arch nemesis… so you say.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: FLUFF, swearing, friendly banter

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 704

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: second anon i kid you not i wrote this in the afternoon and had it in my drafts to post later and when i saw that in my inbox i was gobsmacked LMAO

ANYWAY thank you sm and here is the awaited part three💕

the mirror placed on the wall next to your front door has your reflection on it as you fix up your hair and lipgloss.

you still cannot fathom that you’re going on a date with nathan doe.

well, he didn’t want to admit that it was a date. he said — and quote — “we should go get something to eat this weekend. dress fancy, too!”

the ringing of the doorbell echoes through the foyer, and you give one last peek at yourself before opening the door.

nate’s dressed in a white dress shirt, black dress pants, and shoes. he has a small bouquet of tulips in his hand, your favorite flowers ever since you were little.

he remembered.

his eyes scan your body that’s hugged with a sage green dress that has some poof to it, daisies embroidered on it. the sleeves are off the shoulders, and gold jewelry decorates your ears and neck. “well, well, well. look who came to their enemy’s doorstep holding presents. how thoughtful.”

“oh, shut up. i’m here to pick you up for our date.”

his hand never left your thigh as he drove to the restaurant, and you hate to admit that the feeling made you blush.

he opens the door for you, and you step out to admire the exterior. the lights around it are dim and the colors of the building are warm earthy colors. it’s definitely an italian restaurant. also your favorite ever since you were a kid.

he remembered that, too.

the hostess brings you guys to the table, and you get settled as the both of you look through the menus.

“you look very beautiful tonight,” he says, peeking at you from above the menu since they're bigger than your heads.

you hide your smile with a lip bite. “thank you. you look handsome.”

he chuckles, tapping your foot from under the table. the waiter comes over, places your orders, and takes the menus.

nate leans on the table to admire you, smiling as you start talking. “do you know what we should do after this?”

“what should we do, pretty?”

man. that nickname’s starting to grow on you.

you grin. “we should go to barnes and noble. i need more books.”

“you don’t need more books.” he rolls his eyes. “nerd alert.”

he lets out a sound of pain when you kick him under the table. “nate, please? for me?” you give him puppy dog eyes along with a fake pout.

he crosses his arms. “we’re not going to fucking barnes and noble.”

you went to barnes and noble. you drag nate behind you by the pinky, smiling when the whiff of books hits you.

you go over to the young adult section, skimming through them to find a book that’ll interest you.

he’s leaning against the bookshelf, staring in awe. he doesn’t understand how one can love books so much, but it’s okay because it’s you.

when you find a book you like, you go over to the counter. “hello!” you greet, placing the object on the counter.

the cashier scans it, tapping a few buttons on the screen in front of her. “that’ll be $21.00.”

you go to reach for your card, but hear a BEEP and look up, seeing nate’s card inserted into the machine. “you already paid for dinner.” you say lowly.

he nudges you with his arm, taking out his card. “do you have a pen by chance?” he asks the woman, using his hand to portray a writing motion.

she gives one to him, and he moves you so you’re behind him. he starts to write something in your book, and you jump to try to look over his shoulder. it’s no use.

“na—”

“thank you.” he smiles, giving the pen back and grabbing your book. “let’s go.”

when you guys get comfortable in the car, you sigh. “what’d you write in it?”

he stares deep into your eyes, taking the book off of his lap and handing it to you without saying another word.

you hesitantly open it, and a small message written in blue pen is revealed on the inside cover.

y/n,

will you officially be my girlfriend?

circle one:

yes or yes

𝐭𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!

@bunbunbl0gs @lexisecretaccx @thy-mission @angelic-sturniolos111 @sophssturn @mattsneezing @janiellasblog @blahbel668 @meg-sturniolo @hearts4chris @mattslolita @sturnbaby @imwetforyourmom @tillies33ssss @sturnifyed @mayhem-72 @ripmattitude @p1xieswrld @alorsxsturn @txssvx @sttzee @multiluvr @delilahprentiss @matthewsspecial @idkhowtosleep @sturniolho @suga-daddy-69 @tworosesblackthorn @luckistar-posts

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mae-gi-writes · 16 days

Text

Arch-nemesis . Gally (themazerunner)

There's a thin line between love and hate, especially when it concerns Gally.

A/N: I've re-watched the three Maze Runner movies and now I'm obsessed and getting back onto the TMR fantrain so bear with me and the future fics I've already got saved in my drafts TT 3 TT ------

You hate him with all your heart.

Truthfully, honestly. There isn’t anyone you hate more than this stupid asshole that thinks that he’s the centre of the earth.

You met him only when he’d been brought in by Lawrence and a few of his other guys, having been there just for a few weeks prior. Thinking that this might be your chance to make a new friend, you’d sidled over to him with a small smile as you asked for his name. That didn’t go as smoothly as you thought when he just grunted out his name in response and turned away from you like you were a pest instead.

But it isn’t just that. It’s the way he says your name in that really aggravating tone that grates at your nerves. It’s the way he always insists it’s your fault when you’re out on missions and come back with no updates. It’s the way he bullies you and calls you names whenever your paths cross and it makes you want to gouge his eyes out. It’s enough to say that you know Gally now and you know exactly what he’s made of. That, and the fact that you’d stay far away from him as you possibly could if that was an option.

“You’re loading it up wrong shank-face,” he’d tell you as you were re-filling your gun.

“Shut up Gally, I’m doing it properly.”

“Don’t come crying to me when the gun doesn’t work.”

“It’s none of your business if it doesn’t work.”

“It is my business if you’re gonna—“

“Right that’s enough,” your mentor and leader called Jared had to step in, like he did numerous times, to get you to cool off. You’d storm away in a fit of annoyance and irritation, hating how easily Gally got under your skin.

It’s been a few weeks since weird sightings of stray immunes have circulated the area and in reply to this, Lawrence had set you up for a mission with Gally to scout the outer walls of the Last City. That had only caused you to grumble about the unfairness of the situation.

“Why do I have to go?” Your eyes narrow at the familiar tall figure lingering in your peripheral. Gally is busy setting up his weapons as you try to plead your case, seemingly uncaring about your protests, “and with him of all people? We don’t work well together Lawrence—“

“Everyone else is taken or busy with other tasks. Meaning that only you two are free,” Lawrence cuts you off without a hint of sympathy, “so either you do as you’re told or you can leave Y/N. As simple as that.”

In the end you have no choice but to abide by his rules, strapping up your weapons and defenses before Gally calls out your name. You turn just in time to catch the water bottle he sends your way, yelping in the process.

“You’re looking a little distraught, shank-face,” he smirks at you from where he stands loading up the provisions, “scared of what you’ll find out there? If you ain’t good enough, just don’t come and waste people’s time.”

“Nobody asked for your opinion, ugly brows.”

“I’m just worried you might slow me down. I’m not a goddamn babysitter.”

“I didn’t ask for one, now will you shut up and stop talking?”

“I’m surprised these two haven’t killed each other off yet,” murmurs one of Lawrence’s men.

“Killed or kissed you mean,” Jared lets out a chuckle.

These words are enough to cause the others to look at him with shocked faces, “what do you mean?”

“Isn’t it clear?” Jared motions towards the two currently bickering, “bet that by tomorrow night these two will get together.”

“I bet they last a week before they kiss.” Another says.

“Oh come on, I’m betting two weeks. Gally isn’t that type of guy.”

“What about me?” Gally’s voice causes them all to shut up, looking at him with guilty smiles and with shakes of their heads.

“Nothing to worry about Maze boy,” Jared flicks him off with a wave of his hand, “now off you go, both of you. And I expect some good news when you return.”

“Of any kind,” someone adds quietly, to which they all cackle.

You’ve toured the city a million times before in search of any kind of entrances that might lead to the inside, where all of Wicked laid. So it’s nothing out of your depth to follow Gally around as you survey the area and scout for more sources of information.

In all honesty, touring with Gally isn’t that much different from anyone else. On the contrary, Gally’s determined nature conjoined with his natural physical ability to excel just renders him an even more ideal battle partner. Not that you’ll ever tell him that. It will surely come bite you in the ass later when you least expect it.

You’re almost at the perimeter when you notice something off about one of the citizens. It’s a little girl, her face contorted in a grimace as she holds her hands in front of her tummy. For a moment, she sways in the middle of the crowd and you’re about to dismiss it, when another figure stalks in and takes a swipe at her with a stick.

The girl yelps as the stick hits her knees, crumbling to the floor like a sack of bones.

Before you know it, you’re sprinting towards her, anger flaring through your chest as your hands steady themselves on the gun. You barely hear Gally’s voice as you stumble in front of the kid just in time to point your weapon at the older man.

“What do you think you’re doing?” You hiss at him.

The man’s eyes widen. He takes a step back, “no no, get away from her, you don’t understand—“

“Understand what? That you were going to beat her to death?” You click your gun into place, “nice try old man, now tell me—“

“Get away from her!” He yells at you, “she’s not normal! She’s—“

And a growl erupts from behind you. You swivel around in panic, eyes going wide upon noticing for the first time the dark patch close to her eyes.

The Flare.

The girl twitches. A small sob falls from her mouth. Your heart jumps to your throat, stumbling back half a step as weird animalistic noises echo from her mouth.

And then, she pounces.

You yell out something— you’re not too sure what — and are about to knock her on the head as she throws herself at you—

A bullet explodes on the right side of her brain and she falls to the ground like a puppet.

You stare at her for a minute. One more.

Your gaze slowly trails up to see familiar booted feet.

“What were you even thinking?”

Gally’s voice is usually deep. But this time, even you can’t stand up to the anger simmering in his voice. It’s dark and holds some kind of laced savagery that makes your toes curl in apprehension.

He takes your silence as guilt before grabbing onto your arm and roughly pulling you out of the crowd. He doesn’t stop and for once you don’t fight him, still not over the shock of seeing that poor girl’s face, the crazed look in her eyes. You’re so deep in your thoughts that you don’t realize you’re at your truck until Gally practically throws you against its side.

Your back digs into the metal and you grunt at the impact, the ache stinging your spine. But before you can do anything else, huge palms come to a rest on either side of your head.

Gally leans into you, so close that you can feel the heat radiate off him in waves.

“What the fuck was that about?” He growls, voice dropping even lower.

Somehow, it causes a shiver to run up your spine. Not one of fear, something else. Something that makes your stomach squeeze into knots.

“I—“ for once, you don’t seem to have any words. Instead your head turns away from Gally’s eyes as you bite down onto your lower lip, “I’m sorry.”

“Sorry? You’re sorry?” He scoffs, laughs to himself before his gaze hardens once more, “sorry for what Y/N? For almost getting yourself killed? Are you insane?! She could’ve literally infected you and you—“

“I didn’t know she was infected.” You tried to protest.

That seems to aggravate him even more, “You didn’t even bother to check!” His nostrils flare.

“Well I said I’m sorry!”

“Sorry’s not going to cut it if you turn into one of those Cranks you stupid slinthead! You need to be more responsible! I literally turn away for one minute and you’re—“

“Oh stop exaggerating Gally. I was trying to protect her—“

“Yeah and look how that ended!”

You snap, “why are you so pissed? It was an accident and I already said sorry!”

“It’s not just that Y/N!” He yells with such emotion that his face flushes red, “What if I wasn’t there? What would you have done then?!”

“Why the fuck do you care? You wanted me gone—“

Your words cut off in mid-conversation when his large hands suddenly cup your face before pulling you in to crash his lips against yours.

Your eyes widen, brain freezing, as butterflies erupt through your stomach.

Wow.

Is this what a kiss is?

And this is Gally, kissing you like he means it.

It's almost like time has stopped.

Heart pounding, your body slowly melts against his. You’re in a trance-like state, watching yourself crumble under his fingertips that he places right under your jaw, his other hand sliding down to your hip to pin you in place.

The kiss is surprisingly gentle yet firm. His mouth moves slowly, hesitantly, almost like he fears breaking you. And yet, when you respond with a soft movement of your own, the rumble of his chest has your stomach squeezing with adrenaline.

You’re not too sure what’s happening. Here you are, with the world’s biggest dick, kissing him like he’s your lover when all you’ve ever wanted was to kick him in the face for being a class A asshole.

But it’s weird because this, however, feels so right. Like you’re meant to be locking lips, like he doesn’t want anyone else in his arms but you. And when he cages you in his hold with even more intensity it makes you gasp, causing him to slip his tongue into your mouth with an ease that has you parting like melted butter.

Slowly, your hands trail up to his chest, grabbing hold of his dark tunic and tugging slightly as his teeth suckle onto your bottom lip. A noise echoes from the back of your throat and he growls in response, pressing you even harder so that your head tilts back against the truck’s surface.

You need air at some point and so break away from him with a small gasp, chest heaving.

Gally doesn’t hesitate. He dives down to press a kiss to the side of your jaw, down your neck, imprinting his mouth over your skin over and over again in a way that has your body shuddering with delight. Big hand sliding down to the back of your neck to pull you even closer into him, the young man’s lips find a soft spot at your pulse point, causing a whine to fall from your lips at his action.

His chest rumbles in satisfaction and before you know it he’s back to kissing you. This time it’s more heated; mouths clashing and teeth clicking and tongues battling.

And then, the reality of the situation hits you straight in the face.

You freeze. What in the shucking world are you even doing?

You’re making out with Gally, right beside your truck. In broad daylight.

The thought alone makes your hands push him away and your lips disconnect with a small ‘pop’ sound.

You’re gasping for breath at this point, eyes wide as they flutter up to lock onto his own and you’re surprised at what you find there.

There’s some sort of softness, genuine care and something more, something darker that you can’t really put your finger on.

It makes you want him.

You want him.

Shuck’s sake.

“Y/N—“ Gally starts but you’re already moving out of his hold, slipping away from his warmth and suddenly it feels a little too cold.

You shake your head at him, decide it’s best to keep your eyes away as you open the door to the passenger seat, “let’s go. We have a mission to finish.”

You don’t want to talk about it.

————

It’s been days.

Days since the incident.

Days since you’ve been trying to get Gally out of your head.

You don’t understand why he’s having such an effect on you. Theoretically speaking, you should’ve bashed his head in and turned him over to Lawrence for sexual assault.

But you haven’t, and he’s also probably questioning why.

As a result, you’ve done everything in your power to avoid him. You wake up thirty minutes earlier to eat your breakfast so that you don’t have to bump into him at the table, you take the first errands that come to you — the boring ones like refilling tanks and getting the food supplies and guarding their premises. All that so that you don’t have to deal with Gally’s bullying.

Well, not that you’ve heard from him much either.

“What happened between you two?” Jared asks one evening as you help him move the supplies fresh from the last raid from the Last City.

“What?” You stare at him blankly, “what are you talking about?”

“You and Gally. You had a fight or something?”

“When are we not?” You snort, though you can’t deny the flush creeping up your neck as the memory of Gally’s body against yours resurfaces.

“Well I know you fight, but you’ve been ignoring each other.”

“And? Why is that a concern? Shouldn’t you be glad there’s less noise?”

“You’ve got a point I suppose.”

You don’t tell him it’s because you’re nervous of all the things that keep flashing through your head. You don’t tell him about how you keep on thinking of Gally’s mouth on yours, the lingering taste of him like a ghost along your lips. You don’t have to and you don’t want to, because you know that it’s going to entertain an idea far too surreal and ridiculous for you to think about.

It isn’t until a few days after your little mishap that Gally finds you in the storage room. You’ve woken up early to help the newest recruit unpack the food supplies just loaded into the main building dock, only to find out that he had this massive crush on you.

So you’ve been trying to bat him off all morning despite his most desperate attempts.

“Just give me a chance Y/N,” he says as he takes a box from your hands with a wink, “I promise I won’t make you regret it.”

You snort, “no thanks,” and turn back to keep unloading.

But he makes a grab for your hand. You yelp, pulling it out of his grasp, “what do you think you’re doing—“

“You think you’re so tough huh?” He makes another grab for your forearm this time and cages you into his grip. You try to wriggle out to no avail, his fingers squeezing so hard that you let out a cry of pain, “ow—“let me go, asshole.”

“Not until you agree.”

Your glare deepens, “I said no.”

He pulls you closer, stinky breath washing over your face and making you want to barf, “did I tell you how sexy you are when you try to act all tough and shit? I mean that’s literally—“

“Get your hands off her.”

He freezes. You do too. You recognize that voice. You could've recognized that anywhere. Your head tilts over.

Gally.

Oh.

Eyes widening at the sight, you quickly pull your arm away when the newbie drops it in shock.

“Move away,” Gally’s voice drops an octave and causes a string of butterflies to erupt through your chest, “now.”

The newbie frowns, “Who’re you to boss me around?”

“I said: Now.”

And maybe it’s the fact that Gally seems to straighten when he says it so it looks like he’s towering over the other boy, but the latter mutters a curse word under his breath and finally relents, throwing you a scowl in the process as he ducks out of the storage room.

You can’t help but lock eyes with your savior, though quickly averting your eyes in embarrassment as you resume stacking boxes after boxes. You hope that he’s just going to turn around and act ignorant, just like these past few days.

“Y/N.”

You don’t answer, resolutely trying your best to act busy.

“Y/N.”

Maybe it’s the way he says your name that makes you turn impulsively. Your eyes flit to his face, then look back down to his chest. A safer bet, “what?”

He takes a step closer, and another, and another. You swallow thickly, feeling your throat clog up with emotion as you stumble back against the boxes until no escape seems available.

Why is it that you’re always getting trapped by him?

“W—What is it?” You stammer out in hopes he can’t hear how wild your heart is beating, "What do you want?"

He lets out a soft sigh and seems to drop his shoulders in defeat, opening up his palms in a sign of defeat, "I just--I think we need to talk."

"There's nothing to talk about."

"Y/N--"

"No Gally," you whip around then with eyes narrowed into slits and your fists curled beside you, "if this is about what happened in the Last City, I don't want to talk about it. It was a stupid shucking mistake and--"

"Stop using Glader slang," he interrupts like a smart-ass and you all but growl at him in irritation, "it doesn't suit you."

"Oh shut up already," you whip around and decide that it's useless to try and have a civil conversation. You'd rather focus your energy on finishing off your task.

But seems that he's determined to bug you, for you feel the warmth of his hand imprint itself on your forearm before he's tugging you. Not too harshly, gently enough that you could've stopped if you wanted to.

You let yourself turn around, cursing inwardly at how the closeness between your two bodies is rendering you a little breathless, a little weak in the knees. He's so close that you have to tilt your head up to look at him, and what you see in his gaze makes your heart skitter.

"It wasn't," he murmurs, "a mistake."

"It was a mistake," you shoot back straightaway, "we can just forget about it--"

"I don't want to. I--" he clears his throat, looks away for a second. And when his eyes find yours once again you feel your breath catch in your throat because he's looking at you in a certain way. That way. With the same kind of tenderness that makes you want to wrap your arms around him and bury your face into his chest and smell the earthly, Gally scent that had wrapped around you back when you'd kissed--

No.

You almost smack yourself, horrified. What in the world are you thinking?!

"I like you, Y/N." Gally’s voice jerks you back to reality, “I like you a shuck lot and—“

“Don’t,” you press a finger to his lips as you try desperately to put some distance between, shaking your head in horror, “no no, you don’t like me. You like me ‘cause I’m the only girl around here and it’s just your hormones talking—“

He shakes you off, “what are you on about?” He frowns before grabbing both your hands to cage them in his grip, “I know what I feel Y/N. Don’t tell me otherwise—“

“Gally please,” you scramble for coherent thought but logic is slipping away by the second. Even more so when he’s tugging you gently to him, even more when his face is a picture of softness and affection, “we hate each other’s guts—“

“I never said that.” He pauses to read your expression, fear suddenly flickering in his expression, “do you hate me?”

“I—“ the words get tangled in your mouth. You want to tell him you hate him, loathe him with all your heart and that you just want him gone and that you hates his kiss.

But you can’t.

Because it’s a lie, the truth is that you think your heart beats for him. You’re not sure since when, but that kiss had confirmed it surely enough: you like Gally more than you think you do. And that thought is terrifying.

You’re so close to him that if you let your hands drop they’ll brush against his chest, so close that you can feel his warm breath fanning across your skin and the heat of his jody permeating to yours.

Ducking your head in embarrassment, you bite down onto your lower lip.

“Answer my question, Y/N.”

You swallow thickly, “I—I don’t know.”

Gally looks down at you still, not giving you the easy way out you would’ve preferred and you find yourself crumbling under his stare.

“No,” you whisper, “I don’t hate you.”

He shifts a little closer still, eyes flitting down to your lips in a silent question.

Your breath catches. Your mouth parts. His scent wraps around you like a soft cocoon.

And then you’re lifting yourself up to kiss him.

He makes a noise of surprise at the back of his throat and you grin to yourself, loving that you caught him off guard. But that doesn’t last, for his big hands quickly drop yours to wrap around your waist before pulling your body to his and kissing you like he hasn’t seen you in ages, like he’s missed you, like he wants to do this forever.

Gally, you soon realize, kisses with his entire intention, not leaving one part of your mouth untouched and adamant on making you go pliant in his hold. You allow yourself to back up as he prods you, until your back hits one of the storage boxes hazardly stacked one atop the other, and Gally doesn't hesitate to press his chest against yours as a soft moan echoes from the back of his throat.

As his lips curve against yours in the most intimate of manners, your hands seem to take on a life of their own as they travel up his chest, caress the broadness of his shoulders, before wrapping around the back of his neck and teasing the soft baby hairs found there. You feel him grinning into your mouth and soon enough you're grinning too, foreheads pressed together as you catch your breath.

"Not bad at all," Gally murmurs, stealing a kiss from you and causing your face to flush deep red, "for someone who can't load a gun properly."

"I can too load my gun properly," you pinch him playfully and he responds with laughter.

That's when you hear your mentor's voice booming with surprise from the front entrance of the storage room:

"Well look what we have here! I told you guys they wouldn't last a week!"

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