#plot wise?? it ain't it | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

boop-le-snoot · 1 year

Text

masterlist

untitled

I just had this vivid scene play out in my brain. Dropped to my knees in a local chain grocery store, had to pretend I was grabbin the bootleg brand chips from the bottom shelf. I'm definitely normal about this. Yea, I'm so abso-fucking-lutely normal about this.

So what if I'm ovulatin'? It ain't me sittin' here clenching my fuckin' thighs, no ma'am, nu-uh. Even my predictive text talks like Daryl now- okay, I may have a tiny little problem. I hope I never, never ever get the chance to look Norman Reedus in the eye.

4.5k words. VERY VERY NSFW. Just sweet and a little rough monkey lovin' where Daryl enjoys something for the simple sake of it feeling good. A little undercooked plot-wise but the smut has been grilled to a perfect medium-rare, slightly juicy, collard greens and mashed potatoes on the side with the mushroom sauce. Two packs of cigarettes later (he owes my lungs an apology),

Imagine you and Daryl going out on a - run, scouting mission, whatever - and hunkering down in a secure cabin for the night. It's summer, it's hot and stuffy inside, but luckily, the cabin has running water, even if it's ice-cold. So you wash up and apply some of the essential-oils-homemade-perfume-thing that someone at the community made for you.

You change into your PJs and come downstairs to amuse yourself til the sun sets completely.

He's smoking next to a crack in the boarded up windows and you, being on friendly terms, banter a bit and bum a cigarette off him. He doesn't mind when you use one of his knees to sit down. As you two joke, you ruffle his hair slightly, not missing the way his eyes narrow in pleasure.

That sparks a conversation about letting oneself to feel good things.

You say that it's different for women because they get judged for wanting to experience pleasure just for the sake of it and Daryl says he always thought it to be stupid. You say that he's not exactly the resident expert on that, which briefly makes his natural competitiveness overshadow his shyness and self-loathing.

Petulantly, he places your hand back in his hair and stresses the purring growl of pleasure as your scratch his scalp and let his moist tresses glide through tour fingers.

You laugh and say you're gonna braid his hair one day, in jest, and he growls back "yer pushin' yer luck, pretty girl," but his smile is hidden rather badly.

In revenge, you stomp out the cigarette and straddle his lap fully, attacking his head with a massage worthy of a spa parlour professional.

He grips your waist as his head hangs forward, a low rumble coming from his mouth as his nose comes that much closer to your neck.

Daryl takes a deep breath, and sensing you unbothered by it, says "ya smell good. like apple pie."

"Oh," he doesn't miss the slight hitch in your breath, "'member when I fixed up the 'lectric in number twelve? they paid me in some essential oil perfume they made. feels nice to... not smell death all day, every day. 's a nice change."

He nods, agreeing, remembering your strong feelings about doing some things just because they feel good. Not because it's useful or to survive, but just for a surge of happy hormones in your bloodstream.

Despite his best efforts to distract his body, one wiggle from you is all it takes for his excitement to be obvious. He freezes, but you adjust simply, politely, keeping your weight off his boner. Confused by your chill attitude, he lifts his head, forcing you to brush all of his hair out of his face.

Daryl feels vulnerable and exposed.

Your eyes slide down to his lips, once, twice, but you - just as stubborn as him - pick them back up. As he parts them to run the tip of his tongue over them in hopes of finding something to say, he notices it fully.

He notices the flush of your skin. His hands move on your waist, provoking another blink-and-youll-miss-it twitch of your fingertips and toes.

Gathering his ducks in a row, Daryl leans into you - your neck, not your lips, not yet - softly running the tip of his nose along your collarbone and up to your jaw.

"That feel good?" Voice gravelly low, it sends reverb through your chest.

"Yeah," you breathe quietly, your fingers in his hair shaking slightly. You lean more into him and that is all the encouragement he needs for the time being.

"Wanna make ya feel good," he admits, dry lips and scratchy stubble gliding along the length of your jaw. His breath is hot on the shell of your ear. "Can I do that, suga'-pie?"

"Mhm," you respond, his cheek now against yours - you rub into him gently, like a cat. The affectionate headbutt makes him chuckle quietly in his throat.

He continues nosing around your neck, feeling the muscles in your back and your thighs unclench one by one. You're practically on top of him, almost right there, over the throbbing erection in his pants, and he feels your control slip away bit by bit.

The flimsy wooden chair you two are sitting on creaks; Daryl doesn't place much trust in it. Planting his feet wide, securing his position, he inadvertently lands your cunt right over his cock. Both of you shudder and hiss at the contact.

The damn chair creaks again.

He curses under his breath, hands sliding down to your ass, hoisting you up and urging you to wrap your legs around his waist as he stands up, sending the raggedy chair clattering to the floor.

Your breath catches in your throat, your hands grab at his shoulders, kneading into the meat there. A few steps later, both of you land on the couch heavily; it creaks, too, but your legs have room and your body can finally relax against Daryl as you stabilise yourself on the surface.

He's panting, open-mouthed, looking at you with those stormy blue eyes, searching for something in your earnest, open face.

The corners of your mouth tug up.

He runs his palm over your back, settling on your nape to pull you into him. Your mouths connect; the kiss is slow and unhurried as you take the time to explore each other's mouths. There is no need to rush, no risk of being caught or ambushed; it really feels good. Following someone's advice for once, Daryl lets himself become utterly lost in the sweet kiss.

Your hands are in his hair, tugging softly every now and then, tipping the cup of him ever-so-slightly for short groans to spill into the kiss. Sometimes, you let your hands traverse the hills of his shoulders, the plains of his chest, fingertips poking around the collar of it.

It's overstimulating but at the same time, it's not enough. To give you a hint, Daryl timidly strokes the single bare inch of skin between your shirt and your pants, feeling the goosebumps even through the thick, calloused skin of his working hands.

The way your hips respond: restless and fluid, pressing into him just that much closer, prompts him to slide his hands further under your shirt, mapping the bony ridges of your spine. The skin along it is sensitive on any mammal, that much he knows, so he expects the twitch, expects the breathy moan leaving your lips; he revels in it, the kiss growing humid and sloppy.

Your hands slip into his shirt, finally, your warm palms on his hot skin. He's burning up inside out and you're- you're diligently adding fuel and accelerant to the fire. Blunt nails scratching over his uneven skin, you snag his bottom lip on your teeth as moisture gathers in the corners of your mouths.

The need for oxygen is strong.

Daryl inhales deep as he rests his forehead against yours.

Both of you are panting. Necking like horny teenagers, not a care in the world, no worry for tomorrow; it's near impossible to focus on anything else but the pulsating need at the spots where your bodies are pressed together.

It's all too much but neither of you want it to stop.

"Holy shit," your awed mumble causes Daryl to smirk lightly; as you shift in place, he swears he can smell how wet you are. His jeans must've gotten ruined by now, if not by you then by the weeping of his own cock.

It feels almost regretful to proceed. This exact feeling, if someone could figure out how to bottle it, would have people sellin' their soul for it, Daryl is damn sure.

It's the moment before lightning spears open the stuffy air of a muggy, stormy day. The millisecond before a heavily pregnant cloud gives birth to a solid wall of ice-cold rain; the blink of skies as they generously cool the overheated earth, filling up its parched cracks with invigorating liquid.

"Fuck," Daryl groans, tossing his head back onto the backrest of the couch, watching you through lidded eyes, "whatchu doin' to me, girl?"

You offer him a shaky, sheepish grin before your lust takes over your senses, pushing you back up to him. Your mouth connects with his neck, suckling, licking, nipping at the caramel skin there.

Daryl tastes of cheap soap and clear sweat, that musky scent of gasoline and leather unfurling into notes of pinewood and smoke as you nose deeper; right next to his ear, tickled by his hair, he smells and tastes like the best dessert at the carnival inside the town fair.

A little greasy and drenched in spices. You can't get enough of him. Opening your mouth, you stick your tongue out flat and lick.

Daryl groans. It's open-mouthed and loud. His hands grab your hips firmly, dragging you over the tent in his pants.

Both of you hiss at the friction.

Your knees wobble as your stance widens in an attempt to cover more surface are, to bring the feeling closer to your clit. There's at least four layers of fabric between your skin and his and it is something that is so sweetly, arduously annoying.

He pushes down again, harder this time, offering another delicious groan that you can't help but swirl in your mouth and recreate. The noise attracts his attention; Daryl watches you, watches your face, the flush on your chest, your heaving breasts. Like many men, he licks his lips utterly unintentionally when his eyes settle on your hard nipples.

Inwardly, you find enough clarity of mind to chuckle. Men and breasts nevel fail to amuse you when placed in close proximity. You push them outwards and his mouth is immediately right there, shirt and all, rolling a stiff nipple gently between his teeth.

The soft, damp cotton adds an edge to it; you feel your underwear slide over your cunt, the fabric absolutely saturated with your arousal.

Daryl's hands knead your ass as he takes in his fill of your breasts.

"That's, fuck," you pant, needing him to know, "that's really fuckin' good."

"Yeah?" He groans wetly before taking in as much of your breast as he can fit in your mouth; there's no finesse to it, just raw, unadulterated need.

"Uh-uh," you nod: his eagerness is what takes the cake.

Daryl tugs your shirt up; up and over your head and fuck knows where it flies, forgotten the moment his lips are back on one nipple, his fingers on the other. He rolls, he bites, he sucks.

Your breasts are wet with spit and sweat.

His breath ghosts over the damp areas, pebbling the tender bud to a state almost frigid.

You moan, loudly, wetly and openly. You gasp, you squirm, anything to quell the restlessness. It's like an army of fire ants trotting their primal, tribal dance under your skin, reducing you to a disoriented mess with a one-track mind. Your fingertips are pale where you hold onto Daryl in a feeble attempt to ground yourself.

He's smirking when he surfaces up. There's spit glistening on his chin, his lips are puffy, the deepest, most delicious shade of maroon. It's obvious the state of your undress and the intensity of your want is echoed by him.

"Feel good?" He has the audacity! to ask.

"Yeah," your response is lackluster in words but the tone and the pleading expression on your face conveys it all: your desire, your desperation.

With you on top of him, the only relief to your aching cunt so far has been provided by his bulge rubbing against your clothed slit. It's not enough, it's not even nearly enough.

Daryl's biceps bulge as he effortlessly lifts you up, "c'mere," placing you back-to-his-chest.

Your legs fall open on your own accord, hanging limply over his muscular thighs. The meat of his cock digs into the cheeks of your ass; you feel it twitch along with you when Daryl's thick palm cups the mound of your pussy in a gesture both tender and possessive.

"Fuckin' shit," his low mumble travels down the shell of your ear, "this all fr'me, sugar?"

"Yes," you breathe out as he slides his middle and ring fingers up and down your slit. There is no hiding it: your cunt had soaked right through your panties and the cotton of your pajama pants.

With some more maneouvering that comes unfairly easy to him (in your opinion), your pants join your t-shirt somewhere in the deepest pits of hell (a far corner of the room). The panties stay on and for that, you're grateful - a little - as the simplest, straightest of touches on the sensitive meat of your cunt feels like clear honey being poured over a-

Daryl taps two fingers at the top of your slit, right where you outer lips part to reveal your swollen clit.

"Fuck!" You yelp.

"So responsive," he mumbles. He sounds fascinated as he spreads his fingers, the rough tips gliding along the skin and the thick meat sliding over the soaked fabric. You quiver and he can't resist running his mouth, "that feel good?" His smirk is a little mocking, a little breathless.

Your resolve hops between strangling Daryl and begging him, the rabbit of your heart leaping in your chest, doing a binky when your lover shows you mercy by moving aside the sticky fabric covering your crotch. It immediately cools and you wince as it touches the hot flesh of your thigh.

Daryl's inhale is sharp, deep and loud as he dips the same two thick fingers inside your slit.

You're swollen and so wet, its practically dripping. Your clit twtiches under his fingers.

"Jesus Christ," he exhales his disbelief, "you like that, huh? This all for me?" The question proves to be rhetoric when the arm that holds you by your waist tightens on you and Daryl grinds his hips up into the small of your back.

The pitch of his voice drops impossibly low, "bet you taste sweet," as he scoops up some of the fluid, fingers snagging on the snug ring of your entrance, before bringing them up to his lips. He noisily sucks your cunt off his fingers, slurping, "fuck yes!"

Your eyes flutter shut as you cunt pitifully clenches around nothing, no doubt making an ever bigger mess between your legs and on his jeans. Your soft whine is an earnest compliment to the man doing his best to clean up your mess.

Daryl repeats the motion several times, scooping up the sticky droplets of your cunt juice, immediately sticking his fingers in his mouth.

You feel a little sad you can't see it, but your imagination supplements that which is lacking. You imagine his brow, furrowed; his eyes, closed; the tight 'o' of his lips around his fingers. Your cunt flexes again, spasming.

Daryl's reward for it is to circle your clit with a featherlight touch of a single finger. His breath is heavy as he reaches lower, same finger sliding to your entrance: not breaching it, just circling, like a predator circles its prey. He must have the patience of a saint.

You, however, do not. Your hips have a mind of their own as they arch into him, your cunt so empty, it practically hurts.

"Tell me whatcha need," Daryl orders, the low of his voice seasoned with a pinch of pride and a pinch of desperation, "tell me, sugar."

"Inside," you keen, out of your mind, "I want you. Inside." There's drool gathering in the corners of your mouth.

Daryl obliges, but not before lubricating the entirety of his thick finger by sliding it over the outside of your cunt, causing another loud keen to fall from your lips.

When he pushes in, you swear you could cry from the sheer relief of finally getting something for your hungry cunt to wrap around.

Experimentally, he drags his finger in and out, slowly, tense as he watches your reaction, before adding in another. To say they're big would be an understatement: long and thick and textured, it's everything your cunt has craved for the past some minutes. Daryl pumps them in and out as you pant through the new sensation, acutely aware of the loud squelches coming from your hole with every plunge.

Your swollen lips and throbbing walls attempt to keep him hostage with every pull.

Daryl curses, something completely unintelligible, his rough voice completely lost to lust. "Gonna cum for me, eh?" He breathes as the contractions of your cunt become quicker, more rhythmic.

Your neglected clit pulses, your nipples are stiff as rocks, your breathing is uneven and shallow. You couldn't find your voice even if you tried; you don't try at all, letting your body do the talking. You fuck back onto his fingers to the best of your limited ability to move as short, loud, primal noises choke their way up your throat.

The throb of his cock against the small of your back is what sends you over the edge.

Daryl's panting, whimpering himself at the unabashed state of your being; you don't think he realises it, even, his eyes set on your cunt gripping onto his fingers.

When it clenches for one last time, you arch, you paint the walls of the room with curses and whimpers that would make even a prostitute blush as more sweet slick drips out your spasming hole and onto his fingers. Your legs tremble as your entire body goes limp in Daryl's hold.

Soft lips rest on the crown of your head, hot, uneven puffs of air frizz your damp hair.

As your brain does a factory reset, you become hyperaware of the hard, thick flesh pressing into you; a stark realization comes over your being, washing your body in a new layer of shivers. Your cunt still tingles, still aches for more.

"Daryl," you mumble, feeling him go stiff and hot, his name like the sweetest honey on your lips, "I want you inside me."

He shudders, he pants, his cock twitches pitifully once again in his pants. The tight denim had provided some relief, enough to focus on you, enough to stretch the time a little bit more. But now, with your body warm and lax and fucked out of your skull, how could he resist?

He didn't want to resist. He wanted to feel good.

In your dazed state, it was easy for him to pick you up, bridal-style, and carry you towards the singular bedroom in the cabin. He grinned at the clumsy way you immediately reached out to him, tangling your fingers in his hair, placing sloppy kisses on the nearest inches of skin you could reach.

The whine you let out when dropped onto the cool comforter?

Daryl's cock twitched demandingly.

The man stood at the foot of the bed, admiring the view: you, blinking up at him, breasts moving with each shallow breath, feet on the comforer and legs bent at the knee, a hint of flushed, swollen pussy peeking out from the crooked gusset of your underwear.

This may not be heaven but it was as close to it as he'll ever get.

The buckle of his belt clinked, denim shuffled as it was left somewhere behind him- Daryl wasted no time dropping to his knees, using two strong hands to bring your cunt up and into his face. The force of his inhale made your sensitive pussy quiver, it was something that made him smile against the fabric of your panties as moved it aside once more - this time with his teeth.

"Oh, fuck!" You yelped as the broad, wide, flat expanse of Daryl's tongue licked messily up your cunt, hole-to-clit.

"Mmm," he groaned, "fuckin' candy apple pussy," taking another taste. And then another, and another until your skin was raw from the stubble of his beard and you were left in a shaking, whimpering, wet mess of a human. His face was drenched. "Messy girl," he chided in a soft mock as your cunt provided him with another gush of arousal, "ya like bein' messy for me, don't cha?"

"Uh-uh," you arched, your usually concise vernacular reduced to whimpers, groans and two-syllable words that barely made any sense to your own ears, much less anyone else's.

Daryl was like a wild animal, lapping up the liquid, uncaring of the mess he made of you and of his own face.

"Please," you fought with your tongue and finally, finally won, "I wanna- uhh," well, maybe not quite.

Momentarily, he withdrew, wiping the side of his face on the inside of your thigh, "you want what? Tell me."

In your state, he could have touched you anywhere and it would have reduced you to a mindless, blabbering mess. So you settled on the next best thing. Your hand, the one that was in his hair, tugged him up - or tried to.

Daryl's responding growl, the shift of his shoulders, the absence of a single hand on your thigh - you knew the tug had him palming himself through his boxers. Another, purposeful tug was given, another growl followed as he stood up.

You weakly pushed yourself up higher on the large bed.

In the dim twilight of the bedroom, Daryl stood, shirt soaked through and through with sweat; his chest heaved as damp strands of hair fell over his face. They were unable to conceal the glistening layer of you on his chin, neither they could hide the blown pupils of his stare. There was almost no blue visible in his eyes.

You licked your dry lips, forcing them to cooperate, "c'mere," your hands stretched out towards him.

Daryl crawled on the bed and over you, sitting between your spread legs. Obedient, he leaned into you, placing sloppy, damp kisses over your face as you wound your arms around his neck. The tent in his boxers hovered less than an inch away from your bare cunt.

"I need ya'," you breathed, tasting yourself as you licked into his mouth, hoping to convey with you body what you couldn't with your words.

"Ya sure, sugar?" Ever the gentleman, Daryl pressed his clothed cock over your bare cunt, ruining his underwear even further; his muscles flexed under your palms.

"Uh-uh," the heat, the feel of his thick cock backtracked any progress you'd made on getting your vocal cords and your brain cooperate. There was nothing but lust and saliva gathered in your mouth now, something that both of you shared during another slow, wet kiss. Your teeth clashed, your tongues ran over each other, all graceless and sloppy.

With one swift, ragged motion of his hand, Daryl shoved his boxers down and over his cock, freeing it from the tight confines; that action alone was enough for him to let out a grunt as the cool air hit his leaking, flushed tip.

The same tip that slapped against your clit, jerking your body and his.

"F-f-fuck," Daryl wheezed, fisting his cock at the base, running the tip slowly over your lips, your clit and down to your hole, "m'not gunna last for shit like this."

Just get inside me!!! You wanted to scream. Instead, you wiggled your hips, you squeezed his shoulders.

The fat head of his cock slipped in, slowly, steadily. More wet, sticky noises got lost in the growl coming from Daryl's gritted teeth.

Your cunt was sucking him in, all wet and hot and snug and constantly flexing, rippling as it adjusted to his size. The roll of your hips that followed was utterly unintentional, driven by the most primitive of instincts.

"Oh, sugar," Daryl grasped your hip tightly, holding it in place, "fuckin' shit. What're you doin' to me, woman?" His speech slurred.

All you could reply was a series of small breaths, 'ah-ah-ah's' with every inch of his cock sliding into you, until you felt his heavy balls pressed against your ass.

If your eyes weren't clenched shut, you would have seen the wild look in Daryl's eyes, the way they darted between the blissed-out look on your face and the root of his cock secured against the entrance of your cunt.

Slowly, he withdrew, hissing at the smooth pleasure of your wet pussy sliding over his cock, and then he slammed back in.

Your body curled, arched; a shriek left your lips at the sudden realization. You held onto him tightly, his shoulders, his arms; the sweet feel of his skin, slick with sweat, bombarded your senses, drowning you in that natural, masculine smell of him.

You babbled some nonsense, something about how good he felt, how he fit just right and so nicely, how he was so good to you-

"You're so good to me," Daryl objected, Daryl stated, "s'fuckin' sweet. My sweet, messy girl."

The words alone brought you closer to the edge as he hammered away inside your oversensitive cunt. In fairness, he could have flicked your clit just once, or even taken his mouth to one of your hard, throbbing nipples-

Daryl's need to feel you come, to clench and gush around his rock-hard cock was at the forefront of his mind, followed closely by awe at the way your body molded perfectly against his. The way your thighs quivered as they attempted to wrap themselves around his hips, the desperation in your grip on his shoulders.

"Fuck!" He cursed, teethering at the very edge of his orgasm, "come for me, pretty girl, c'mon," he urged, swallowing his own moans and gasps.

"I- uh," you, too were almost right there. The coil in your stomach at its most tense, it sent small tremors inside your cunt, shocks of pure, hot, liquid ecstasy-

That traveled down Daryl's cock. Like damn rings during a heated game of muckers, the spasms of your cunt collected at the root of his shaft, one on top of the other, until he could do nothing else but rut roughly, sloppily into the equally sloppy mess of your cunt.

He felt it. It began somewhere at the deepest part of you, squeezin' the head of his cock firmly and traveling all the way down his shaft, until each ring of pleasure popped, releasing his seed into you-

Throbbing, your cunt pushed and gushed, a flash of lightning zapping your clit as Daryl's pubic bone ground into it with force. A hoarse scream tore from your throat, your body curling inward with the force of your orgasm. Strong, heavy spasms of his cock shooting hot ropes into you lulled you into the aftershocks.

It made both of your bodies limp with exhaustion. The cord had snapped and tension finally leaked out, dissolving like smoke and fog into the open air.

Sweaty, sticky and hot, the two of you panted your relief onto each other's cheeks.

Your lips connected with the rough stubble on Daryl's. Hair hung over his face, obscuring your smile.

"Whatchu grinnin' at?"

Boy, did he sound fucked-out. All smoke and gravel and spice and everything nice.

"Feels good."

"Heh," he chuckled, the noise coming from somewhere deep within his chest, "sure does."

#WHEW I NEED TO BE NEUTERED Y'ALL #daryl dixon x you #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon smut #daryl dixon x female reader #twd smut #fuckin' tiktok editors wirh their fuckin sexy edits #fuckin norman reedus with his stupid fuckin face #ALL OF YOU GET OUT #of my head #please.

1K notes · View notes

sourbinnie · 11 months

Text

☆ silent ☆

♡ genre ¿? ♡ -> angst ; hurt/comfort ♡ pair ¿? ♡ -> hyung line!ateez x gn!reader ♡ plot ¿? ♡ -> malicious comments weren't gonna go unnoticed by your boyfriend even if he couldn't do anything about it. ♡ warnings ¿? ♡ -> swearing ♡ request ¿? ♡ -> yes!

-> the request | maknae line

a/n: i hope i understood this request correctly ajkshf hope you enjoy it and maknae line will be out whenever i'm free since you asked for ot8.

-> the scenario

you didn't wanna attend at first but something about seeing your old friends made you give in. being there with your boyfriend also brought comfort to you and eased your nerves. anxiety couldn't help but kick in when you thought about seeing some of your old classmates and how they were doing right now. you've seen pictures all over instagram of them living their best lives and you were stuck in your job and trying your best to handle money wisely. your boyfriend didn't mind and your family was happy that you were where you were, so why did you have to doubt yourself?

well it was easy when you were surrounded with rich folks who didn't know anything but money and luxury. even after experiencing some of the stuff your boyfriend was used to, you couldn't get used to it but right now? yeah it was definitely too much and too show off for your liking. speaking of your boyfriend, he was there surrounded by people wanting to take photos with him, asking for autographs and wondering why he was here but nobody would kick him out because idols were sacred to them. you were thankful he would be supporting and cheering you on from a distance.

well if you knew what was coming, you would've never brought him along.

"didn't know this was a reunion for the lowest of low." one of your old classmates said laughing and looked at you up & down. he was scanning you with his stare and it made you feel so small but you tried to think nothing of it yet you knew exactly what was happening.

"yeah same man, i thought this was gonna be an exclusive thing. good to see you though (y/n)!" another one exclaimed as she laughed. what did they expect from a high school reunion? to invite only the privileged old students? well maybe it would've been a better idea.

"yeah good to see you." you said in a small voice, wanting nothing more than to leave with how you were being perceived. there was no doubt that your boyfriend was looking at you right at this moment. you wanted to leave, you were going to leave at any moment.

"hope you get a better job soon sweetie. since that dress/suit ain't looking too good." one added and you excused yourself as you left the scene. the tears threatening to spill at any moment as you tried to make sense of a direction to go to, far away from them.

seonghwa ✉

as he watched the scene unfold, seonghwa felt helpless. he wanted nothing more than to shut these assholes up with a comment but he had to keep his image as professional and civilized as possible. for a moment he just wanted to be your boyfriend, a regular attendee that participated in this event and was able to defend his significant other.

but right now he was an idol who, as discreetly as possible, looked for you everywhere. he couldn't find a single trace of you so he decided to head out for a second, hoping no one would notice him and to take a breath. looks like you were doing the same as you tried covering yourself up with your coat so no one could see what you were wearing. broke his heart to a million pieces with that simple action.

"don't do that." he simply said and you sighed. he didn't know what he was gonna say to make things better but he knew that you knew he was gonna try his hardest. "please don't listen to them. it's not a competition to see who has the best job."

"well even if it was, i would be the loser. it's fine hwa i just need some time and you know we can't be seen together." you said but he just shook his head as he looked at you. he wasn't a good boyfriend for just standing there but he would damn prove your worth.

"we can leave if you want to. it's so unfair that this happened when you were excited to see your friends but i hope you can see them another time." you nodded at his words and took his hand. leaving the place to never look back and hoping you never cross paths with these people again. "they're such idiots for saying that to you but you're better than they will ever be." he muttered and his grip on your hand tightened 'cause he truly did mean it.

hongjoong ✉

he was frozen as he heard the words being said. he sighed to himself as he wanted to see you and be there for you so much but he knew as the leader, he had to keep an image and it hurt him. in another world he would be telling these idiots to back off and to look at themselves before they judge someone else. especially if that someone was the most respectful and attentive person he's ever met because oh god, you did not deserve that at all.

he found you when the whole event ended and took you home. the silence was deafening as you tried your best to act like you were okay but the mask was falling off when you arrived to your shared apartment. he knew he couldn't leave you alone tonight.

"(y/n) talk to me babe. i know i should've said something and i'm regretting everything right now." he said as he looked at you with pleading eyes. you could never lie to hongjoong even if you tried to and right now you felt like breaking down completely so you let go.

"i just wish i was enough sometimes. not only my job but my appearance and just how i am, why couldn't i just defend myself?" you asked and hongjoong couldn't help but feel the worst he's ever felt. just the way you were putting yourself down because of them, it's enough to drive him insanely mad.

"no. you are enough, more than enough and i'm sorry i didn't say anything. if i could go back and change what happened, i would do it in a heartbeat." he said as he hugged you and held you in his arms. "no matter what job you have or what you wear, you'll always be the person with the biggest heart that i know and that's what matters." he muttered and that was enough to bring tears from your eyes.

yunho ✉

he would feel so bad, like it would shatter him to see you fighting back the tears and the humiliation you went through. he would want to stand up for you, not even as a boyfriend but as a human being. yet his feet remained glued to the ground because he couldn't risk putting the boys into trouble and as much as he loved his brothers, he felt so weird putting his significant other last.

a few minutes later, he got out of the shock and walked away from the reunion. he needed to find you and he didn't care about anything else, even if it caused him to be a little careless about it. when he did indeed set your eyes on you as you were outside, he looked around but then decided to stop being a coward and approached you.

"love, are you okay?" he whispered and he almost facepalmed himself for still trying to be undercover. like he was your boyfriend, he hated himself for caring so much about his image and not enough about you. "i'm sorry. i just fucked up didn't i?"

"yunho no, you didn't do anything. i understand that you couldn't really say anything but then again there was nothing to be said." you shrugged as you tried to enter again but he grabbed your wrist before you could walk away.

"i won't fail you again. please don't listen to them okay? none of it is true." he said and you nodded as much as you wanna believe him, it was hard. it just hit you really hard that you were judged that way but you knew your boyfriend was there and that brought some relief. "by the way, you look gorgeous tonight."

yeosang ✉

oh boy he would be so mad. he encouraged you to go but at the same time he was scared because he knew what kind of people your classmates were and looked at what happened. the fact that they felt above you because they wore designer clothes or got to travel the world made him sick. as he stood there, now looking at the people who surrounded him in another way, he tried to look for you.

it pained him that he had to pretend like he didn't know you at all but he put on the image for a little bit longer until you sent him a text. his eyes softened when you said you wanted to leave and he was glad but so fucking disappointed in himself at the same time.

"darling. let's go home yeah?" he said when he saw you and you nodded as you both went separate ways but ended up in the same car later on. "i hope you know that i would've done something if i could."

"i know but it's okay sangie, they weren't exactly wrong." you said and he instantly grabbed your hand as he looked at you.

"they were so wrong and i'll prove it to you. i wasn't the best boyfriend you deserve tonight." he said and you nodded as you got closer to him and he kissed your cheek. sighing to yourself as he drove home, one hand on the wheel and the other holding yours. "i'll prove to you that you're much more than they will ever be." he said and you smiled.

#sourbinnie #ateez reactions #ateez scenarios #ateez imagines #ateez drabbles #ateez #ateez imagine #ateez x reader #ateez x you #ateez angst #ateez x gn reader #seonghwa x reader #yeosang x reader #yunho x reader #hongjoong x reader

445 notes · View notes

olderthannetfic · 24 days

Note

Something fascinating happened recently. I saw a white YouTuber put out a video called "Why you SUCK at writing: Black People" and say to never, ever do black superheroes with lightning powers and challenged commenters to name 5 black characters without lightning powers. Many people in the comments had lists of 10+ characters without lightning powers. His pinned comment is him saying, "I get a kick out of this! Now name 5 that aren't the following common ones people default to [list of characters here]" and the replies have more black characters listed who don't have lightning powers. He then triples down and goes, "the point is there's too many of them!" When someone replies that good representation is not as shallow as not having lightning powers, it's about 'did you write a character or did you write comic relief like Frozone with no purpose outside of being the black best friend?', he boldly proclaims that the black person he's talking is taking things too seriously and it ain't that deep.

I instantly flashed back to however long ago it was that someone brought up a commenter who had said that black characters with lightning powers were bad and stereotypical. And I am as lost now as I am then. While I'm not black, I am a double minority in my country, and if given the choice between Black Lightning, Static from Static Shock, Miles Morales, or Frozone as representation for either group I'm from? I'll take the well-developed main characters who have love interests, plotlines, character arcs, and impact on the plot and stakes over a dude whose most notable scenes are helping a white guy out via one usage of his superpowers and later yelling at his wife for his supersuit.

I am begging white people who write to tell me, a non-black, non-white person who is surely missing some cultural context: what exactly is wrong with giving a black character electric powers? And how did it become some kind of line-in-the-sand, "I'm not racist, I'm against electric/lightning powers" thing? Because personally, when I see a white man telling black people they're wrong to like black characters with the "wrong" power, my mind doesn't go, "ah, yes, what a wise ally", it goes, "why aren't you listening to the people you say you're speaking for?"

And before anyone says "well it's been done before, that's the problem" - I don't see anyone saying white men can't have Superman's powers or be supersoldiers even though there's many, many more of those than there are black electricity users. Why do white people get to have any superpower and it's fine, but black people get barred from this superpower or else it's bad writing? No other ethnic group gets told they can't have a specific superpower. It feels a bit wrong to say that in the name of equality, a superpower is off-limits to anyone with too much melanin in them.

124 notes · View notes

riswippiesx · 4 months

Text

Captivation | Geto Suguru X Fem!Reader

MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS- DNI!!!

TW: 18+ NSFW Mention of alcohol, fat shaming, insults, toxicity, obsession, nipple play, body worship, foul language, dirty talk, third person watching, mention of violence, reader is hinted of having larger breasts but nothing exact, oral sex(fem receiving) unprotected sex(don't be silly, wrap your willy), creampies, overstimulation mention of pregnency, kids and breeding, broken marriage and divorce stuffs, porn with plot

Not proof end, exactly.

[let me know if I am forgetting something]

A long sigh fell from your lips. You were sitting at the bar, with your glass of liqueur. You played with the glass as you waited for you so called "date" to come. He was already one hour late and you were pissed, thoughts of going back was circling around your pretty head.

After your 'successful' marriage with Suguru Geto fell apart, you had restrained yourself from dating and stuffs. Having a beautiful little girl of five years was one of your main reasons to stop seeing someone or even a little hook up, along with your busy work schedules. So, you were just a lonely woman of early 30's. It would have continued like that if your friends Shoko and Utahime never forced you to think for yourself. So you started to look for someone new and here you were, waiting from past one hour for that certain guy, who seemed somewhat good, to arrive.

"Fuck these men!" , you cursed under your breath and sipped on your drink. Your patience was draining out. It was definately your mistake to say yes to a guy, who picked a bar for the first date. How cheap! You decided to bring out your card to pay for the drink and it was when you heard someone calling out your name. You looked back and found the guy you had been waiting for. He stood there with a stupid grin.

"Ain't you too early, Naoya?", bitter sarcasm fell out of your tongue. You were clearly annoyed. His grin widened surprisingly.

"C'mon baby, it's not that late", he talked for himself.

"Yeah right!", you rolled your eyes and stayed on your seat. He took a seat right beside you and wrapped his hands around your waist. It was uncomfortable to you after almost three years, since your divorced Suguru. You thought of telling him to keep his hands to himself but you let that slide for it being the first date, where you didn't want to seem very rude.

"Tell me baby, what ya drinkin?", he asked with a flirty tone

"Just some regular", you replied shortly.

"Mmm Baby you look sexy~", Naoya cooed in your ear seductively which made you shiver and gave you a slight ick.

"This dude doesn't even know how to compliment", you thought in your mind, giving him a minus for not knowing some basics. He was nothing like Suguru, who used to compliment you in the best ways, who used to make you feel like the prettiest woman of the universe. Everything was great untill it wasn't. It was so magical untill you started to drown yourself in work when your daughter was two years old. After handling work and your baby, you rarely had time for Suguru. He tried to understand you but his own business was going slow for that time, which became settled and better one and half years later. You two often had misunderstandings and random fights. Thinking about your daughter's future, you two find it wise to have seperate ways and thus the divorce came in your life as a curse. But Suguru decided to fulfill his duty as the father of your child. He spent his day offs with your girl and in the weekends, he would pick up his kiddo and spend his day with her and dropped her at your place again in the evening. So you two saw each other quite often. But you missed his presence in your life. You wanted him back but a strong sense was ego was working in you, which stopped you every time from crawling back to him.

You came out of your thoughts when you felt Naoya's hand on your thigh. Right, you were with Naoya now, you needed to stop thinking about Suguru if you wanted this date to work out and you did want this date to work.

"Whatcha thinkin baby?", He spoke with his constant grin.

"Nothing much. So tell me, why are you so late? Is everything alright?", you tried to build a proper conversation.

"Sweetie, that doesn't matter ya know. Let's talk about something interesting", he brought his face closer to yours and his hands working on your thighs slowly.

"What else?", you asked back which made him smirk at you.

When you were busy chatting with Naoya, Suguru came in, with his best friend, Satoru. They were out for a random drink break. You didn't notice them coming but Suguru's eyes found you soon and then drifted to the man beside you. So you were finally on a date.

His eyes slightly squinted as he noticed you two and saw the man's hand on your thighs.

"Isn't that your ex-wife?", Satoru slightly poked Suguru with his elbow.

"Seems like", Suguru answered shortly.

"Oh~ so she's finally dating hmm..but she came to a bar for a date? I didn't know her standards were that low...", Satoru grinned. Suguru didn't move a single mouth muscle to smile.

"That's none of our business. Let's go sit over there", he pointed at the corner of the bar and started to walk ahead.

"Fine", Satoru mumbled before following his best friend.

Two men ordered two most expensive liqueur of the bar. Satoru was talking about business and life. He talked about women as well. Suguru was looking at him but his eyes were drifting back to where you seated from time to time.

"Ya ass isn't listening, Suguru", Satoru complained with a grin.

"Of course I'm listening", Suguru protested.

"Yeah? Tell me what did I just say?", the white haired man asked.

Suguru wasn't actually listening. So he didn't know and his silence made it clear.

"See~ I was talking about the woman, Manami, whom you were going out for a few days. What happened to her? She's pretty. And surely she is charmed by you. Why not having something serious with her then?", He teased.

"No. She doesn't feel right", Suguru sighed.

"Suguru this is your third time giving the same excuse. None of these women seems right to you. Why? Still captivated by your ex's charm?", Satoru's eyes scanned you for once.

"Nonsense. Not everyone is my type", he replied.

"Yeah? Then what is your type exactly?", Satoru asked.

Suguru's eyes again drifted back to you. You looked so pretty in that black short body con of yours with your unbounded silky hairs. It was hard to look away from you. And then there was your date, cheaply dressed. Those might be good brand of cloths but it didn't have any hint of class. It gave Suguru ick and his eyes fell on his best friend again, only to find him smirking.

"What?", he asked.

"I must say your ex is pretty as hell. If she was my ex, I too would have issues in moving on", Satoru remarked.

"I have moved on long ago."

"Yeah I can see very well."

Satoru's grin widened when their order arrived on their table. Suguru scoffed and took one bottle and poured a glass for Satoru and one for himself.

"Cheers!"

They were about to sip when they heard an unknown voice yelling from the direction where you seated. Both of the men quickly looked over your way and found your grumpy annoyed face and the guy infront of you in a desperate wild state.

You really thought Naoya had better topics to talk about. He brought his lips near your ears and whispered, "Let's talk about our...needs"

"What?"

"You heard me babygirl"

It was very weird to address a woman like you as "babygirl" but you let that slide too. His hands were going towards your inner thighs and he pressed a soft kiss under your ear.

"Tell me babygirl, how would you like to be pleased?"

You were unable to answer, feeling the strong ick in your stomach.

"Or should I find out myself..hmm?"

"S-stop"

You pushed him away with your hands.

"What's wrong?"

"It's our first date. I don't feel comfortable in this topic yet"

"Baby don't fight it. Give in to temptation", he moved his hands under your dress but you stopped his hands.

"No."

"C'mon don't be so boring now~", he whined.

"I don't want it", you replied.

"Ugh if you don't want it why the fuck did you even come here tonight?", his toned turned bitter.

"Because I thought this would be a normal first date"

"You think? You think that I would waste my time by going on random dates with YOU?", he pointed at you.

"Excuse me?", you disliked how he talked to you.

"Yes who the hell would go on a date with you? YOU STUPID UGLY BITCH!", he yelled.

"watch your tone", you remarked in a pissed tone.

"HELL I WOULD! YOU'RE FAT. LOOK AT THAT BELLY, POKING OUT OF YOUR DRESS. SO FUCKING UGLY. YOU CAN ONLY BE A ONE NIGHT STAND, THAT AGAIN ONLY FOR THOSE NICE TITS OF YOURS!", He yelled again.

You were seriously annoyed at how he was creating a scene. You weren't up for any troubles like that. You again regretted your decision for coming along with such a cheap date request. He was a complete jerk. You should have acknowledged the signs of his cheap nature. You sighed and quickly brought out your card to pay for your drink while he shouted.

"I would never want to go on a date with a slut like you. A whore. A fat ugly whore."

You glared at him

"Shut the fuck up!", you pressed your teeth together and chewed out.

"You boring ass. You're not even my type."

You finished the payment and got up.

"Thankfully I am not. It was my mistake to even give chance to a shit like you. Asshole!"

"Mind your language!"

"You mind yours first you shithead!"

You pushed him to a side and decided to walk away as you didn't want anymore chaos. But he grabbed your hands and pulled you back. The last bell of your patience went off and you slapped him hard, making him loose balance and fall on the bar floor.

"That's where you belong, jerk!"

You said and left the bar with sheer annoyance while Naoya looked at your way with surprised and insulted expression.

Suguru was noticing it all, along with Satoru. He was pissed as well. The words of that man made him mad. What a ill behaved person!

Suguru was happy when you stood for yourself. He saw you walking out of the bar. He glanced at Satoru and he was already glancing at Suguru. Their eyes had the conversation they needed and Satoru nodded before both of them got up from their seats. Suguru followed your way and Satoru approached Naoya, who fell on the floor.

You came out of the bar and sighed deeply. You feel insulted. That was why you never cared to date till today. You should have sticked to your decision. You felt like a shit. You might have stood for yourself but the insecurity you hid so well, was now poking you. You put your hands on your tummy. Before leaving your house, when you looked at your reflection in the mirror, you were happy and pleased with yourself but now, you felt equally insecure. You rarely felt so, but the alcohol in your nerves was working on your emotions a little as well.

You slowly reached your car and stood there. You wanted to drown yourself in layers of clothing, where your body shape won't be visible anymore. You always thought pregnency as a blessing and your cute little daughter was your world. But this one side... No matter how hard you tried to work out, some changes are tough to get rid of.

Your thoughts were getting all foggy when you again heard someone calling for you but this time the voice was very known to you. You looked back and saw Suguru standing. First you thought you were imaging because of the alcohol but his voice calling for you again made it clear that he was actually there.

"Suguru?"

"Yeah. Feeling shit, aren't you?"

"Listen Suguru, if you are here for another fight, please go away. I don't want..."

"Why would I come all way here to fight you?"

You stayed silent.

"Right..why are you here? Are you stalking me?"

He scoffed before replying.

"I was here with Satoru for a drink. I saw you when I came in but I guess you were too busy with that jerk to notice me", he chucked.

"Whatever. What do you want?"

"Are you okay? You are good at standing for yourself but the after shock drowns you every time. And this time it isn't an exception, I can tell"

"And how does that bother you?"

"Don't be so tough. You can tell"

He took a step closer to you as he looked down at you with soft expression. You looked at the ground and became quiet.

"I know you barely let go of your composure and hide most of your emotions. But you should talk it out when someone is reaching for help."

You sighed.

"That jerk...", you spoke.

"Why did you even choose such a shit in a first place. There are many other men"

"Shoko and Uta forced me sort of..."

Suguru sighed.

"Just because they forced...? You aren't that naive...are you?"

You remained quiet again.

"Tell me about the real reason..Y/n."

You looked up at him and quickly looked away. He put his hand under your jaw to make you look at him again.

"Hmm?"

"Why are you asking me so many things. You have a girlfriend right? Go spend time with her"

"Girlfriend?"

"Yes that pink head"

"Oh..you mean..Manami?"

"Whatever her name is.."

Suguru couldn't help but chuckle.

"She isn't my girlfriend. She never was. We just went out a couple of times but it didn't work out."

You looked at his eyes and sighed.

"...were you jealous..of Manami?", Suguru teased you.

"Who do you think you are that i'll be jealous of your date?", you spat out.

"..hmm..I guess I can tell why did you hurriedly chose a date.."

"What?"

"To feed your subconscious mind that I wasn't alone to date someone else....", Suguru smirked.

You hated it. You hated how he could read you like an open book. You feel embarrassed.

"Shut up"

"You wanted to make me jealous?"

Yes you did, but no way you would say that to him.

"...it worked."

What? What did he just say?

You looked back at him with slightly widened eyes.

"But you didn't need to choose such an asshole. I hated how he talked to you. How did he even dare?!"

You really didn't know how to react at that point. You were feeling so defeated yet the joy of a winner was washing all over your body. You never stopped loving this man. He was your obsession. You wanted him back but yoy couldn't. So you had to win. Anyhow.

"But don't worry, Satoru took care of him. Partially. I'll take care of the rest, wanna join me?"

He said as he hold your hand. You were far too captivated by him to say no. So you nodded to say yes.

"Great", Suguru smiled and guided you back to the rooms behind the bar.

He called Satoru and he opened a door of a certain room and grinned at Suguru and then you. Suguru smirked back and entered the room with you.

It was a somewhat nice and clean room. But your eyes widened when you found your 'date' in the middle of the room, tied to a chair with half closed eyes and a tape on his mouth.

"Hmm~", Suguru hummed in amusement.

"Just as you hinted", remark came from Satoru.

Suguru nodded in response. Satoru looked at you and then Suguru before saying "Enjoy~" and winked. Then he left the room.

You were silent and confused.

"What is this?"

"Doesn't that jerk look great like this?"

Naoya struggled to freed himself as his eyes met yours and Suguru's.

"What are you gonna do?"

"Show him what he did. Show him how he degraded a piece of art which should have been appreciated. Gonna show him what he missed."

Suguru looked at you with the soft smile.

"Care to help me?"

"Huh?"

"Let me show you off to him"

"Suguru.."

"Please.."

You again fell silent. Your thoughts were going wild. This was what you waited for. Getting closer to your ex husband once again was what you craved almost every night. You wanted his touch on your skin once again. You wanted to feel good by him and your fingers were far away from giving you what you wanted. You gulped.

"..allow me?", he said as he cupped your cheeks with his hands.

You nodded finally which made Suguru smile and he connected his lips to yours. You felt heaven. The lips, that made you crazy, that made you go insane with needs and passion was finally connected to yours, again. You closed your eyes and kissed him back as you hands rested on his chest. He didn't want to let go of your lips untill you two felt the need of air again.

He looked down at your flushed face and smiled.

"So pretty", he mumbled "just as I remember"

You hugged him and placed kisses on your temple affectionately. His fox eyes looked over Naoya, who was struggling to free himself and grunted. Suguru smirked and let go of you. Then he picked you up and placed you on the bed carefully. His body hovered over yours. You looked so tempting and beautiful under him like that. How he wanted to just rip off your dress and fuck you rough and fast but he had to be slow and gentle. He didn't want to hurt you after so these years, also he wanted that man to notice each and every moment of your face as Suguru pleased you slowly.

He kissed your jaw tenderly as his hands roamed around your body, recalling each and every curves of yours. His kisses trailed down to your neck. His breath and lip was making you go insane. You wanted more- all of him.

Your hands played with his hair which was tied in half up do. He loved when you played with his hairs. You grunted and moved your head back to give him more space to kiss.

He licked and bit your soft skin while you softly moaned. His lips found his way down to your cleavage. He pressed a few kiss on there before looking up at you.

"Sweetheart, would you mind getting up a bit?"

You nodded and lifted your body a bit to give Suguru a better access to the zip of your dress. His hands reached for the zip and he again kissed you. He pulled down the zip and strated to drag your sleeves down along with the dress.

You gulped and clutched his hands. The presence of other person made you a bit concerned. Suguru understood your signs and soothed you down.

"Shh it's okay love, don't mind that jerk..focus on me"

You nodded and let him continue. His fingers came back on your dress and he pulled it down, exposing your lacy white bra.

Your heart was beating fast after so many days. Suguru stared at you with lust and adoration. You couldn't look at his eyes. Your cheeks were flushed and you squirm under his body.

"Patience baby. Let me enjoy the vision", Suguru teased. Then he pulled your dress down your legs and threw it to a side. You were left in your lacy bra and panty. The cold air touched your skin, making you gasp. Suguru looked at Neoya who was staring at your body. His eyes were now widened and he was getting hard. Suguru smirked and made you his focus again. He lowered and places kisses on your each breasts. You whimpered in response. Suguru's skillful hand slided at your back to unclip your bra. He pulled it with his hands and took it off. He put it to a side. His hands softly glided on your hardened nipples.

"So soft..", Suguru mumbled "the only thing that jerk was right about is this", he pointed at your breasts and cupped them from the under. You shivered at his touch. He started to massage them tenderly before giving your breasts a hard squeeze. Your back arched at his touch. Then he started to play with your hard nipples with his fingers. He tugged on them and pressed both of the nipples.

He slowly lowered his face near your nipples and licked the left one with his hot tongue before taking it in his mouth. He sucked on it slowly, making you moan his name. Your hand tugged on his hair in pleasure. His hand played with your other nipple. He sucked and licked it more. Then he let it go with a 'pop' sound and moved to the other one to give the same treatment.

Once he was done with both of your nipples, he fondled your breasts with his hands and started to kiss the middle area. His kisses trailed down to your belly. The stretch marks from your pregnency was still visible on your lower stomach. He stared at the marks which made you concious again and you squirmed. Your movement made Suguru look back at you.

"Don't struggle. Let me adore the signs which indicates how you carried my cute baby in your womb with so much care. These are beautiful, darling" , he started to kiss your marks.

His words made you both shy and needier. You whimpered and melted in his touch even further. Your arousal was forming and it was visible in your white panty.

"Your stretch marks are the signs of your motherhood baby. Your belly is the indication that you have lived your life. Jerks like him will never understand the beauty of these marks.", he glared over Naoya and kissed your marks again.

"Mhmm Suguru-"

"Hmm", he hummed in response and moved down further to settle between your legs. A wet patch was formed in your panty. Suguru's eyes couldn't leave it. He stared and licked his lower lips.

"My girl..so needy ...just f'me..?"

You nodded desperately. He smirked and tugged at the hem of your panty. He pulled it and dragged it down, exposing your glistening cunt.

"So wet ...so beautiful", Suguru remarked and parted your legs and kissed your inner thighs. Before he continued, he took your bra and panty and threw at at Naoya's way, which landed on his lad and shoulder. Naoya was painfully hard and his precum was ruining his pants. Suguru grinned.

"Like what you see? Jerk", Suguru asked Naoya, who only violently shake his body to make himself free. Suguru didn't give a fuck and looked back at you.

He put himself down at the level of your cunt and looked at your eyes from that level. It only made you wetter.

"Please..", you mumbled.

"Please what love?", he asked with a smile.

You whined, suddenly feeling shy to use your words.

"It's okay I understand", he kissed your inner thighs again before placing a soft kiss on your pelvis. Then he kissed your lower lips softly and you bucked your hips up. But he pins you down by your waist.

"No need to be so impatient love, I am here to give you everything you know", he spoke over your skin. He kissed your slit softly and give it a slight lick, tasting your sweet arousal on his tongue.

"Mhmm as delicious as ever~", he remarked with a smirk and your face flushed again. He gave it a few more licks before he kissed your clit. He started to lick it and swirled his tongue around it and started to suck on it softly. The sucking turned hard in no time as he sucked and played with your clit, making you moan his name again and again.

He was making out with your other lips as a knot started to from in your stomach. With every moment of his tongue, it was threating to burst out. Suguru pushed his tongue inside you, which made you eyes roll back in pleasure. It wasn't enough for him, so he started to play with your clit with his fingers.

He pulled back, only to replace his tongue with his fingers. His lip and jaw was glistening with your arousal. He curled his fingers inside you and added a second one. His pace was fastening when he added another finger. His fingers were long, far longer than yours. It reached to the right spots inside you, while yours barely did. He started to pump his fingers in and out of you, making you moan louder than before.

"Gonna cum baby? Cum then. Cum all over my fingers and my tongue"

You moaned and arched your back. His tongue again attacked your clit as he fingered you. Soon you screamed his name and came all over his fingers and tongue. He hummed and lapped up your juices greedily and got up from the position and looked down at your panting body which was coming down from it's high.

"You did a great job, love", he praised and kissed you. You tasted yourself on his tongue.

He got up and looked at Naoya. His pant was dump and he was sweating.

"Look baby, the jerk who degraded you, is now turned on by your alluring body and your sweet moans", Suguru smirked. You looked at Naoya and noticed his eyes traveling from your face to your rising breasts to your puffy soaked cunt. You didn't feel shy, instead a feeling of joy took over your body and you smiled.

"Let's give him another show to enjoy...hmm?"

You again nodded with a smile. Suguru hummed and took off his shirt, giving you a view of his toned and perfect abs, which you missed a lot. His visuals were always enough to make you feel needy and attracted towards him.

His hands worked on his belt and he took it off along with his boxer, exposing his hardened thick cock. You stared at it like you always did.

"Missed it?", Suguru smirked.

"A lot", you pathetically said. Suguru smiled and kissed you. Precum was already leaking from his tip. He pumped his cock a few times to coat it in his precum and then rubbed it against your soaking cunt, using your arousal as lube.

You moaned as his cock touched your cunt. You missed it, you missed it so much. Your heart felt so happy as you felt the intimate touch. Suguru also grunted as he felt your cunt touching his cock. He missed you too. He missed burying himself in your wet pussy so fucking much.

When his cock was fully covered in your juice and his precum, he positioned himself at your entrance. He kissed you deeply and slowly started to push himself inside you. Your moan became louder with every inch he put inside you. When he was finally inside you, he kissed you again and you two moaned in between the kiss. He gave you time to adjust to his size. When you were finally ready, he started to work his hips.

He was going slow, making you feel every bit of his movement. You arch your back and moaned his name.

"Mhmm Suguru more please..faster..", you begged. Suguru listened to you started to rock his hips faster. Soon he picked up a pace and thrusted into you harder. You chanted his name like a matra and he kissed your neck and his hands played with your nipples.

He took your legs and put it on his shoulder and this position made his cock reach deeper inside you. He hitted your g-spot with each thrust and you moaned along with it. You were getting close and cleaned around him. His cock twitched inside you. You could feel he was close as well. His voice hitched as he moaned in your ears.

"Fuck baby..you take me so well. So fucking well..keep cleaning around me..like that..gonna cum...gonna fill you up so good..mhmm", Suguru spoke.

"Mhmmm Sugu- fuck i'm close too~"

"Shit..you're clenching me so hard, my sweet little wife~", Suguru whispered in your ears. You were getting even closer on hearing him addressing you as 'my wife'. Suguru was quick to catch it and started to praise you by calling you his wife. Even after a few years of divorce, you still weren't out of his spell of magical love. You wanted him to claim you as his wife all the time and you wanted to claim is as your husband as well.

Suguru's motion was getting sloppy and random. He thrusted himself fast in you. You two moaned out each other's names and you came on his cock. Suguru followed you soon by filled you up with his cum.

Both of you panted heavily and suguru pulled himself out. He fell beside you, dragging your overstimulated body closer to his and kissed your neck softly. When he was a bit settled, he got up and walked to where Naoya was tied. He was all sweaty and pathetic. Suguru grinned at him.

"You wish it was you who fucked her instead of me..huh?"

Naoya nodded his head pathetically again, losing sense of what he was exactly meaning.

"Too bad, she is mine....still hard? Pathetic. See how the woman you called ugly has turned you on so good that you're acting like a dog ?", Suguru gave him an amused look.

"First I wanted to break your jaw for your nasty ugly comments towards her but then I thought, this might be far better torture for a shit like you"

Suguru pulled off the tape of Noaya's mouth and he started to pant heavily.

"You..you two..all of you suck!!"

"Still have nerve to speak? I'm surprised."

Suguru untied him quickly.

"Now get the fuck out of here and never show your ugly face to me or my wife!"

"Your..wife?"

"Ex-wife"

Naoya strated to smirk.

"Just for saying. Don't think much. I'm planing on making her my wife again", Suguru whispered in his ears. Your overstimulated brain was far too foggy to notice Suguru's word. Naoya cursed you guys under his breath and left the room as fast he could. Suguru chuckled, closed the door again and came back to you. He hugged you close and kissed you.

"I love you, my wife, my love"

"Mhmm", you mumbled softly and fell asleep, feeling extremely tired. Suguru thanked Satoru, Shoko and Utahime for forcing him and you to come to the same bar at the same day.

Finally he could see a chance to win you back, you get back with you and his lovely daughter. Just the weekends or day offs weren't enough, he wanted to see his child grow, to see his baby girl playing with her mother, his wife. He would for sure win you back.

After all, it was all worth it.

DAMNNN THAT WAS ..SOMETHING. This is the first time I wrote a whole ass smut. Maybe it sucked..or maybe it was actually nice..idk..i'm looking forward to improve all of it.

Thank you for reading <3 have a nice day♡

Reblogs and comments are much appreciated ♡

141 notes · View notes

angelthemanspanker · 2 months

Text

my most tinfoil hat AtS opinion is that legit straight up canon spangel was like RIGHT beneath the surface of season 5, like the show was ready to pivot in the direction of them being at least friends with benefits at a moment's notice despite fate and the censors' best efforts

Season 1 had shit like Angel's first power walk shot set against a pride flag and him awkwardly telling guys he wasn't hitting on them, going for a kinda Adam West Batman kinda gay thing where people assume that about him bc it's the early 2000s and his clothes fit VS Season 5 in the premiere alone giving us Angel correcting a guy who calls him a "little fairy" with "I'm not little" and the legendary, blog-inspiring "I have no problem spanking men" (one of which he says to a guy he's about to kill and one to a guy he knocked out, almost like Angel lets gayer behaviour slip if he's around people who can't bring it up later hm) followed by the only man we KNOW Angel has fucked literally appearing from thin air in his office

then you get Life of the Party where Angel's Whacky Magic Antics are set off by Lorne telling Angel and the person he's having sexually tense arguments with to get a room, causing him to have ill-advised hate sex he ordinarily would not have with someone he is reluctantly attracted to. and I believe in my BONES that at SOME POINT in the scripting process that that person was gonna be Spike. Even setting aside my admittedly subjective opinion that Angel and Eve had even less sexual chemistry than Xander and Willow, it just... scans. Angel and Spike have their "I need to get our faces within an inch of each other or I'll die" arguments in front of EVERYBODY in literally every episode of the season, so I feel like if Lorne was gonna say it about ANYONE it'd be about them. I will never budge from my belief that Spike still being a ghost at this point and early 2000s tv politics caused them to abandon the Angel And Spike Magically Fuck At The Party plot early in the writing process for the episode and slot Eve in there instead while Spike gets the easy-to-write-into-existing-scenes positivity thing.

and THEN. AND THEN. it becomes a plot point that the show Angel's friends are suddenly really on board with him getting back out there dating-wise (the unperson-ing of Cordelia helps here. whee.), with us all suddenly being in agreement that there is little to no danger of his curse being triggered by sex (even though both times he's lost the soul since his curse, real or imagined sex played a significant role in the moment of happiness). Like, Nina is one of the more one-dimensional characters in the Buffyverse and her midness seems to be for the purpose of setting the audience at ease that Angel's soul ain't going anywhere from hooking up with her.

WESLEY is all for it! Wesley "Most Paranoid and Prepared For The Return of Angelus" Wyndam-Pryce is saying look man we're all rooting for you go have a relationship with a girl whose only flaw that I can come up with is that she's a werewolf. Like sir??? How can you be sure the Beautiful Engaging Young Woman Who Actually Wants You won't accidentally make Angel happy with her extremely inoffensive flavour of Nice?

Whereas if, say, there was a beautiful, engaging blonde who actually wants Angel and Angel wants but comes with the caveat that THIS beautiful blonde not only drives Angel up the fucking wall but recently had magical sex with Angel at the office party in front of the whole main cast, proving that as much as Angel gets off on screwing Spike that he is Not happy about it? I can see Wes giving the all clear on that one ngl

bonus points that Angel and Nina got the Official Couple upgrade in Smile Time which comes right before the Illyria tragedy forces Angel and Spike into the... maybe not friendly but LESS hostile dynamic they keep for the rest of the show, so the season structure of their relationship still follows a lot of the same beats. honestly besides getting a lot more moments of David Boreanaz and James Marsters trying to out-six-pack each other in their post-coital shirtless scenes the only thing you'd need to do is change the world-shattering "Me and Angel have never been intimate. Well except that one..." to something along the lines of "Me and Angel have never been intimate, I just shag the bastard"

#benny russell voice its REAL.#angel #spike #angel the series #spangel

82 notes · View notes

stellar-constellations · 8 months

Text

An Alliance (part 1)

Fem! Spy! (Y/N) x Yuri Briar

Parts: Current part, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten (to be continued when Spy x Family has more Yuri content!)

(Y/N) is given her own backstory that is important for the story!

The setting for this story is based off West and East Germany's (because Spy x Family is heavily based off Germany in the 1940-1950) laws (or at least replicated to the best of my abilities since it's unknown what time period Spy x Family is exactly in, we'll go with 1950 for the sake of this story).

Historically-accurate women misogyny and mistreatment! Only small comments and historically-accurate laws (replicated to the best of my ability).

The story, plot, and settings might not match up to the Spy x Family manga as it's not completed and the manga is still being crafted.

This series contains spoilers for the manga and anime!

Almost three months ago, I was caught as a Westalis spy. I found out I was ratted by a fellow spy and because of it, I was in the hands of the Secret Police, where I met the second-lieutenant, Yuri Briar.

“Tell me, what information have you given to WISE?” the man in charge of interrogating me spoke.

“I told you, I didn’t do anything.” I affirmed, my eyes tired from all the fake crying I had to previously do.

What's it been? Two hours now? I'm pretty fed up of this.

“I’m sorry for whatever I did to gain your mens' attention, but I swear I’m not a spy.” I pushed.

I’m lying. A spy lies all the time. Though I hate to lie, it’s necessary to help create peace between the two sides; or at least to the best of our abilities.

“I’ll ask you for the last time... What did you tell Westalis?!” he shouted, slamming his hand on the table.

I fake-jumped, the handcuffs on my wrists clacking together as my eyes widen.

“I didn’t tell them nothing. I only lived there for some time, then the war struck and my home was destroyed so I moved here. I was born a (birth country) civilian but I’ve lived here in Ostania since I was ten.” I explained, letting out a cough from how sore my throats been with all this fake crying, shouting, and screaming of my proclaimed “innocence.”

"I ain't got time for this. My shift was over a quarter ago; I'm going home." The man sighed.

The man stood up from his chair as did the transcriber in the corner of the room.

I was left in the room for a good thirty minutes, keeping my posture slightly tense and observant as I looked around the room.

If there's any cameras, they'd be looking for any signs of guilt in my body language. Acting too careless or neutral would make it appear that I don't understand the gravity of the situation, or that I'm playing too natural and collected which would be suspicious. Being too tense would give away any signs of anxiety or panic at the possibility of being caught. If I look around the room too much, they'd believe that I would be searching for cameras and microphones which wouldn't look good for an innocent person; but if I'm not checking my surroundings, it could lead them to the impression that I've been in these interrogation rooms before under suspicion of espionage.

A knock on the metal door was heard, pulling me out of my thoughts as the door opened.

“Excuse me, I’ll be taking over from here. Your previous interrogator had to go home.” A young man spoke as he stepped into the room.

He couldn’t have been any younger or older than me by two years. He had deep black hair and piercing red eyes. He almost seemed innocent with those large eyes, that was until I noticed how the atmosphere in the room changed.

Suddenly, it didn't quit feel like I was in control of the situation.

He looks easy to fool. I thought to myself.

I remained quiet as I watched him close the door, walking into the chair the other guy previously sat in.

"Hello... (Y/N), right?" he asked, setting his hat down on the table and taking a seat across from me.

"Yeah." I confirmed, feeling heart raise as I stared at him, stopping myself from sounding meek so he doesn't get any information on me.

It's just cause he's a new interrogator, I thought.

I memorized the previous one's body language and go-to patterns, I can figure out this one's too. I'll stick with my same backstory I gave the other man. I need to be calm but angry too, detectives use special techniques such as that new American Reid technique to extract information from people of interest; they'll be studying my body language, tone, words, and mannerisms. Leaving me alone for so long was one of the steps they've used in the technique.

I'll admit, I was impressed at how young this guy was. I was also impressed that he pronounced my name correctly despite it not even originating from Germany, but instead in (your name’s origin).

"It's a pretty name—from (your name’s origin), correct?" he smiled, causing me to internally squirm in my seat, unsettled at his knowledge and hospitality.

That other man was screaming orders and demands at me, and here this guy is, bothering to know where my name originates from.

"Yeah... My mom wanted a unique name; I supposed all mothers want something that stands out." I replied truthfully.

To create a flawless lie, you must also dab in the truth. Be detailed, but not too detailed. Create eye-contact and don't slip up on your words.

"I see. And where is your mom now?" he questioned.

"She's dead..." I muttered, looking away from him, forcing myself to bite my tongue.

It was a sour memory, my tone was truthful. I'd be seen as peculiar if I didn't show any emotions talking about my dead loved ones, spy or not.

"And your dad?" he asked.

"Same..." I muttered dully, taking in a deep breath.

"I'm sorry about your parents. Do you have any siblings?" he questioned.

"Well, I did." I scowled, showing my dislike for him and his questions.

Remember, not too hostile. That was teetering the edge...

He ignored my glare and smiled.

"I can assume the same as your parents?" he spoke.

"You can." I sighed, a weak attempt to cool down.

I need to control my emotions, otherwise I'll slip up. Remember, no connections to your past.

"So, you were born in (your country of origin), what brought you to Ostania?" he asked.

"I was born in (your country of origin), then my family and I moved to Westalis when I was six. Then the war broke out, the bombs and all, and my family died except for me. I was found in the rubble, then I made my way into the Westalis army. During the war, I got injured and was forced to step down. Eventually, I made my way here to get away from the war since I heard there wasn't any bombings going on, supposed to be more peaceful." I explained, forcing myself to avoid eye contact since it wouldn't help me think.

"You have to understand though, that doesn't make me a spy! I came here to get away from the war, the bombings, the threats, and all this crap here. I just want to live a peaceful life in Ostania for as long as I can." I concluded.

"That's very unfortunate." The man frowned. "I'm sorry you had to go through something like that. How old were you when your parents died?"

"I was seven." I explained.

"And you're...?" he paused, waiting for me to verify.

"Twenty." I confirmed.

"We're close in age." He smiled. "How come you decided to stay inside of Europe? Move into Ostania whilst in the middle of a war, nonetheless? You could've went to the United States or something." he questioned.

"I didn't want to learn a new language. Since I was young when I moved here, it was easier for me to adapt to the language since I was growing up and learning it with other kids my age trying to write and speak it too." I explained.

"I see. I'm sorry for what you've had to go through growing up, I really wish it wasn't as bad as it is here; however I'm afraid I cannot do much on my own." The male flashed an empathetic smile, like he lived what I lived. "It's sad for you to have gone through so much so young."

"You're around my age and you're in this type of business." I pointed out.

He smiled, his eyes too squinted and his smile too big to be friendly. It was dangerously sinister, too sinister even for me.

"This type of business? You make serving and protecting our country sound distasteful. What negative things have you heard, Miss (L/N)?" he questioned, leaning his head on his gloved-palm.

He opened his eyes and lowered his smile, yet the smile was still present.

This lighting makes him look absolutely terrifying. I thought, suppressing the urge to swallow my fear, yet I had no control of how my hands and legs started to tremble. But also...kind of attractive, I supposed...?

"You're the Secret Police, right? I hear you guys torture anyone who doesn't give you what information you want. Anyone can report someone as a suspected spy at any time, and they'll be brought here to be tortured for 'treason' and such. Even women who aren't married after 25 are suspected to be spies and that's completely ridiculous! You do know that the Salem Witch Trials in 1692 happened to have many innocents meet their demise, just because they were blamed, because some people didn't like them or were jealous? Some even put others to their death for entertainment! Do you see a pattern?" I questioned.

"And where did you hear this? About the Secret Police?" he asked.

"You hear it all over. The new gossip in the office, what's on the daily newspaper, and even on our TV's. It's happening right now, in this very room." I sneered.

"That's just word on the street." The man spoke, doing his best to keep his poker face as he ignored my last comment.

I could tell he wanted to get mad, frown at me, maybe even yell, but he kept up his good-cop act.

"The war was originally word on the street too—look where we are now." I retorted. "And you wanna know something else? Despite all the bad things I've said about Ostania so far, Ostania is just as bad as Westalis.

"How so?" he huffed, a scowl on his face as his manipulatively cocky smile was immediately wiped from his face, losing his composure.

"I've been on both sides of this war. I can guarantee to you that Ostania is censoring its newspapers and screens so their people don't know what it's really like—just like Westalis did. Hell, probably even still doing. You work for the State Security Service, but the SSS works for the government—you're not the ones getting information when it first comes out. You gobble up what lies and little white truths they give you." I explained, leaning closer to him on the desk to further emphasis my point. "You're just a pawn in this game of chess. Me and you hold no power to the big guys up there, but just as the word on the street says; once you get captured by the SSS, there's no coming back. Guilty or innocent, the scale is rigged."

His fingers drummed at the desk angrily as he closed his eyes and knitted his eyebrows. I savored the sight of this. The frustration of a Ostanian officer, weak and forced to believe my words for this interrogation, but doubt them too. All the second-thoughts flashing through his face as he wonders if I'm right or if I'm screwing with him.

"If that's how you see it, then I supposed I'd have to accept it." He sighed roughly, intertwining his gloved fingers together. "Enough of that. Tell me all the jobs you've worked."

"I worked at a bakery when I was six, then the Westalis army at seven, moved here and had a mix of delivering newspapers and working in pet shops as an assistant when I was ten. I got a waitressing gig at eleven and kept it until I was nineteen. Finally, I started working at a local bakery down my street." I explained.

"So, why did you accept being recruited into the Westalis army?" he questioned.

It seems like we're running in circles. I thought to myself, mentally sighing. We've already gotten past that bit.

"There wasn't really anywhere I could go without needing money. I also wanted to give justice to my family and siblings; you would too, wouldn't you?" I questioned.

"Yes. I have an older sister and I love her dearly. It's why I do this job, so I can understand where you're coming from. Do you have an older sister too?" he asked.

"Yes. An older sister, an older brother, and two younger brothers. Believe it or not, but we were at each others' throats every chance we could get. But I never did get to tell them that despite all of our fights and bickering, they were my family and I love them." I explained, forcing myself to look away from the male as tears started to distort my vision.

"It's always important to tell them that when you still have them, yeah?" he smiled.

I nodded, not having the strength to look up. There's no way I'm going to cry in front of this bastard.

"Yeah, and—fortunately for you—the files we've been given have matched up to everything you've been saying and more. There's really nothing left." The second-lieutenant spoke. "I'm sorry for having my co-workers drag you here, but it's protocol."

"It's cool. I can understand." I sighed, not exactly believing that the interview was over.

There's no way it's over. Every spy that's been captured by the Secret Police has never been seen again, even innocent people on the streets haven't been seen again either! I really doubt I'd be the first (guilty, but even if I was innocent [that'd be an accomplishment itself]) person to actually walk free from the SSS—as much as I'd like for that to happen.

I waited for any movement from him, waited for him to grab his hat and walk out, waited for him to speak again, anything really. But he just sat there, smiling at me, like he knew something I didn't, and I'm starting to become pretty certain he does.

"Are you going to uncuff me?" I questioned.

His smile seemed to brightened yet darken at the same time, how he did that, I have no idea.

"I'm glad you asked; but you see Miss (L/N), unfortunately I can't let you go."

I sighed, knowing that I was going to get caught one way or another.

"And the reason why is...?" I paused, impatiently waiting for the answer.

Luckily, he didn't let me ponder about it for long.

"While you're innocent, you're still guilty." He answered.

"But you just said I'm innocent. Innocence until proven guilty, correct?" I huffed, getting frustrated.

"Yes, but that's not how it works around here. See, I'm going to have to leave soon for my next interrogation, but I know there's more to your story." He spoke, no smile on his face.

"You said my backstory covers everything!" I exclaimed.

"I did—from what you told me, that is." He explained. "(Y/N) (L/N) age twenty. A spy from Westalis. Code name is Vixen. Moved from (country of origin) to Westalis for your father's promotion at six. Served for three years in the Westalis army at seven. Got recruited to be a spy at ten, then went on missions for a decade—until now, that is." He explained. "Very impressive how WISE can implant work reports in company files, but the calligraphy is wrong. We would've never found out if the store owner didn't drop dead halfway through your employment at that local bakery you speak of. The owner's daughter took over and started writing the work reports, yet your reports remained with the same handwriting from the previous owner."

Damn it, I really can't fix that at all. Some in the letter forgery department was lacking—or slacking—information for the bakery. I thought.

"I don't think you understand what type of spy I am. I'm a peacemaker spy! I stop terrorist attacks, threats from Ostania and Westalis, assassination attempts for the government. Hell, I even helped stop another nuclear bomb that would've killed at least 500,000 people in Hugaria!" I shouted.

"So you admit to being a spy now?" he taunts me with a smile.

"I—" I paused, realizing what I said.

Well, no going back now.

"Yes!" I groaned. "You were right, ya happy?" I aggressively huffed.

"I'm glad we could come to an agreement, but you know, I'm a little sad now." The man spoke with fake sadness. "I was starting to develop a soft spot for you since you were so honest... for the most part."

"Bite me." I rolled my eyes.

"We don't usually do that in our sessions." He stood up from his seat and stalking towards me.

Torture sessions... I thought to myself, feeling a sense of dread creep up me that I tried to push down.

My heartbeat's rhythm became louder and irregular, it boomed in my chest and as blood rushed past my ears, hearing a slight ringing in them.

"If you're planning on killing me, I don't think you'd find much pleasure in it. I'm trained not to give reaction to punishment, no matter how severe." I claimed, fighting the urge to wiggle in my chair for a fruitless attempt of escaping, but it'd just make me look more pathetic then I do already.

"I have a few tricks up my sleeves." He smiled.

"It doesn't matter if you kill me or not. Westalis will still prevail just like Ostania will. My death will have no meaning to Westalis' or your victory to this war." I stated.

"I'm aware. We weren't really looking to killing you—or locking you up in a cellar either.... even though I believe we should..." he whispered that last part to himself like I couldn't hear it.

"This isn't gonna turn into a low-budget porno if that's what you're thinking." I deadpanned.

"I wasn't thinking of that either; but I'm flattered." He chuckled.

I rolled my eyes, my skin flushed yet I was thankful that he agreed with me.

"So what are you planning on doing with me?" I questioned.

"Well since you're so curious, I guess I can ruin the surprise." He spoke. "You were right when you said you're a peacemaker spy. In fact, there's not enough reasons for me to even put you in jail or on death sentence since your good deeds outweigh the bad. I was told to make a deal with you for my boss. I can keep you out of the troubles of being a spy (or ending up dead) if you become an SSS agent."

"And if I don't accept?" I questioned.

"Death sentence; but that's not exactly favorable, now is it?" he smiled.

"Okay... What exactly am I doing?" I questioned, a slight distaste in my mouth.

"Well. It's always nice to have information on the Westalis spies. It'd also be nice for someone to listen to bugged rooms and watch interrogation videos. I could finally get the sleep I've been needing—it's hard when your coworkers are being killed off by spies or quitting." He sighed dramatically. "Oh, you'll live with a SSS agent too, supervision 24/7 so you don't try any funny business."

"You never mentioned I'd living with someone." I huffed, crossing my legs since I couldn't cross my arms with my hands still in cuffs.

"We have to make sure you're not getting into any trouble, remember?" he smiled triumphally.

I'm starting to realize that I hate this guy's stupid smile.

"Who will I stay with?" I questioned

"Eh, who knows." He smiled, shrugging his shoulders carelessly.

I resisted the urge to grit my teeth and come up with something sarcastic to say. Instead, I bit my tongue and dug my nails into my palms as I sighed and huffed out a "fine."

"Good! I know we're going to get along just fine around here." His smile deepened as I resisted the urge to run away.

He leaned down and unlocked the handcuffs on my wrists, his eyes just daring me to do something stupid and see the consequences.

“When you say information on the Westalis spies, are you referring to me committing treason on my own job?” I questioned. “I don’t see how that’s any different from treason on the country. I’m quite confused on your views of morals and justice.” I sighed.

“Then let me dumb it down for you.” He sighed. “I want to make this country a better place for my sister to live in, but with scum such as yourself and the Westalis spies, it makes it harder to do so.”

“Are you sure insulting me is going to make me want to cooperate with you? Because I don’t work in places with workplace abuse.” I deadpanned.

“You’re a spy; it’s nothing you can’t handle.” He smiled.

Yeah, I want to punch that damn smile off his face.

“Follow me, we’re going to go to the Director and inform him of our contract. Stay close to me and don’t wander off. If you try anything stupid then our contract will be breached and you can say goodbye to your ‘peaceful Ostanian life.’” The man explained.

I clicked my tongue get nodded my head, showing that I agree. We exited the interrogation room and started walking down a dim hallway. The hallway had other doors connected to it with windows and I could see other people being interrogated. Some were being yelled at, others were being either punched or tortured.

I’m surprised I didn’t get that kind of treatment. It’s probably since I’m a woman.

Living in 1950 in Ostania, it hasn’t even been 40 years (32 years, to be exact) since women officially gained voting rights, and even then, we don't even have equal rights! We can't work outside of our house without our husband's permission. With the war going on now, our rights have been pushed to the side and the main focus for women now is to take care of the kids. Even with our husband's permission, it’s still rare for women to be working in "men dominated" places such as the military, police, mechanic shops, and more.

“Take your hands out of your pocket; you look suspicious.” The man spoke.

“Like I don’t already look suspicious, I’m the only woman here and I’m not wearing a uniform.” I spoke, rolling my eyes. “You boss me around a lot. If you’re going to be lecturing me, at least tell me your name, sir.”

“That’s not an option at the moment. If you want to find out, you’re going to have to earn it.” He spoke.

“So what do I call out when dinner’s ready?” I spoke, sassy and sarcastic at the same time.

“Sir has been working so far.” He hummed.

“Whatever…” I rolled my eyes, ignoring the heat on my face as I followed him without question.

He opened a door, at least having the human decency to hold the door open for me. I stepped aside and waited for him, ignoring the stares of the men in uniform. The man lead us to a dark oak door and stopped in front of it. He knocked on the door, then waited.

“Enter.” A voice from behind the door called out.

The man opened the door again, letting me walk in before closing the door behind us. A man was seated at a desk, the Ostanian flag standing next to him as I looked at the man. He was old and wearing sunglasses…indoors?

Weirdo. I thought.

He stood up straight and saluted, “Director.”

“Second-lieutenant. And this is…?” the boss spoke, waiting for the questions to be answered.

“(Y/N) (L/N). Otherwise known as Vixen, the Spy from the West.” He spoke.

“Ah, yes. So, you’ve agreed?” the Director questioned.

“Yeah...” I muttered hesitantly, shoving my hands in my pockets.

It was short-lived as the younger man next to me quickly—and roughly—smacked my arm, making me sigh and take my hands out of my pockets.

“I see. Come sit down in front of me.” The Director invited, but I could tell it was an order.

I bit the inside of my cheek yet obliged, crossing my legs and arms. Second-lieutenant walked over and stopped at my side, side-eyeing me as he made sure I wouldn’t do anything bad.

I mentally rolled my eyes and waited for the Director to speak.

“Sign this contract here on the line.” The Director settled a heavy packet in on the desk as he flipped three pages and pointed.

“What am I signing it for?” I questioned.

“Just to show that you’ve agreed to our contract.” The Director smiled.

I glared daggers at him, rudely snatching the packet from the desk, flipping back to the first page and carefully reading each line to make sure I’m not signing something I don’t agree to.

“I don’t agree with this.” I said, pointing at a line in the packet.

“What aren’t you agreeing with?” The younger male asked.

He bent down and got in my personal bubble to read the page. I rolled my eyes at his closeness, ignoring the anxiety of my heart as I moved the paper a little closer to him.

“I don’t agree with ‘disclosing all of the Westalis secrets, including names, locations, meet-up places, and missions.’” I spoke.

“Hm, and why is that? Are you expecting to return?” The Director's face darkened as did the unknown male.

“No.” I rolled my eyes for what seemed to be the billionth time.

Maybe...

“I’m in debt to some of the people there, so there’s some information I can’t spill.” I explained.

“Is your life worth those secrets?” the young male spat out harshly.

“I wouldn’t be here discussing this contract with you if it wasn’t for them.” I spat back, twice as passionate in my anger as he was with his.

His red eyes rivaled my own as we glared daggers at each other.

The Director chuckled and spoke: "Okay, we can cross that line out."

"What? We're the ones making orders here!" the second-lieutenant complained.

"You can't expect someone to cooperate with us if they don't get any benefits. This can't be two-sided." The Director spoke.��

"They get to live!" the second-lieutenant hissed through his teeth.

"She's not the only person that could die from this contract too." The Director chuckled, then rested his face on his palms. "Our contract will be built on trust and communication. We'll give you information from the Secret Police that we see fit to give you, and you give us information about WISE that you see fit to give."

The second-lieutenant spluttered nonsense, exaggerating hand and body motivations as he tried forming words to complain.

"Do we have a problem, second-lieutenant?" the Director darkly spoke.

"Ack!" the second-lieutenant jumped in the air. "N-no, sir." He muttered, looking over to side-eye me.

I stuck out my tongue at him, proud of my small victory (if you can even call it that). In response, he glared at me again, fire in his obnoxiously vibrant red eyes.

"Here, sign this." The Director spoke, grabbing a different paper. "This one is our agreement that you're under our—the SSS'—care and protection for as long as you don't break our contract." The Director pointed to a blank line. "Make sure you add your full first and last name."

"Okay..." I muttered, writing my full legal name down on the paper.

"Great. Now, second-lieutenant, you write your full legal name here." The Director pointed to a line next to my name.

The second-lieutenant hesitantly signed the paper with no questions.

"Great. Here's your marriage certificate." The Director spoke.

I choked on air as the second-lieutenant screamed at the top of his lungs in distress and rage.

"NO WAY! GIVE ME THAT PAPER!" he screamed, lunging over the desk in a fruitless attempt to grab the packet and rip it to shreds.

"YEAH MAN! WHAT'S YOUR PROBLEM TRICKING US LIKE THAT?" I screamed.

"Calm down. It's a cover for you two." The Director calmly spoke.

"COVER FOR WHAT?!" We both screamed, slamming our hands on the desk.

"(Y/N) is still legally a spy, and you, second-lieutenant, are still a member of the Secret Police. The government doesn't know that our methods are... frowned upon. And she previously lived in Westalis, so she's already in danger from just that. If (Y/N) is exposed to be a spy to our government, we may just be able to dig her out of that hole. And by we, I mean you, second-lieutenant." The Director spoke, using the lieutenant's low rank in a harsh mannerism.

Of course they're frowned upon, you're forcing innocent people to admit to being spies by beating the crap outta them. I thought, resisting the urge to roll my eyes as I bit my cheek instead to keep quiet.

"Whose gonna find out?" the second-lieutenant deadpanned.

"Traitors." The Director sighed. "Do you think that all of the members of the SSS are really focused on keeping our country safe? For all we know, me or you could be a spy too."

I feel attacked. I thought to myself.

"Wait. There's spies inside of our forces?!" the younger male exclaimed, shocked.

"Are you stupid? 'Course there are!" I spat out harshly.

"Shut it!" he hissed.

"Of course there is, just like there's members of the SSS in the Westalis spies." The Director spoke.

"What?!" I exclaimed in my own shock.

"What are you? Stupid?" the second-lieutenant mimicked.

"You shut it!" I hissed back.

"Now, now. Let's not try to kill each other just yet. We have many things to discuss about, but let's save that for later. For now, let's get the living situations settled." The Director spoke. "Second-lieutenant, follow (Y/N) to her home and help pack her things. She'll be living with you."

"I never consented to this marriage." The second-lieutenant deadpanned, looking at the Director, then me.

"What wife would she be if you two didn't live together?" The Director smiled.

The man mumbled grips under his breath, another one being "still didn't consent."

"I have the papers right here with your signature in permeant ink." The Director smugly smiled as I chuckled in disbelief.

Me and this guy? We're not going to get along at all.

"Aw, don't be too happy about it, sweetheart. To be honest, this will be my first time too." I sarcastically cooed, blushing as placing my hands on my face to add more of a dramatic effect.

"DON'T CALL ME THAT, YOU TRAITOROUS WITCH!" he screamed loudly, pointing a finger at me.

"OI! DON'T CALL ME A TRAITOROUS WITCH! I'M BEING FORCED TO WORK AND LIVE WITH YOU!"I screamed back.

"I HATE YOU, BRAT!" he screamed.

"DON'T CALL ME BRAT EITHER, YOU MUTT!" I screamed back.

"You guys are acting like me and my wife already." The Director happily—and depressingly—sighed, causing me and the mutt to look at each other.

"The day I call him my husband is the day I get executed!" I exclaimed.

"The day I call her my wife is the day a nuke drops on Ostania!" the second-lieutenant exclaimed.

"Well, then get ready you two, because that day may just come sooner than you think." The Director sighed, causing the two of us to go quiet and stare at each other hatefully.

Parts: Current part, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten (to be continued when Spy x Family has more Yuri content!)

Want more Yuri content? Check out the Yuri Briar Masterlist!

Have any requests? Check my masterlist to see the characters I write for: Masterlist (Please request, I have too much free time and too little fics).

254 notes · View notes