#idk idk it just seems like it's more trouble than it's worth

[im-no-jedi]

sometimes I think about asking for writing requests if only to keep the creative side of my brain active, but then I realize that’s probably a pointless endeavor considering I refuse to write x reader or smut, which seems to be the only thing people ever ask for lolololol

[musical-chick-13]

Ugh, not me going, "Maybe after I finish this multichapter, I never write again."

[confetti-critter]

Social interaction where I got anxious over nothing and it got resolved with nothing bad happening but I still feel like I'm dying.

[gutsby]

Make It Stick

Pairing: Old!Joel x Reader

Summary: Joel never thought he’d need a vasectomy. Then, one night, he accidentally finishes inside you.

Warnings: 18+. Unprotected-peepaw-p-in-v (I’m sorry). Accidental creampie. Age gap. Cumplay. Breeding kink. Ovulation has led me places I wouldn’t go with a gun.

Note: Convergence is a painting by Jackson Pollock. We studied it in high school and I thought it looked like jizz idk

Word count: 4.7k

Prequel | Part 1 | Part 2

He should’ve gotten snipped when he had the chance.

Should’ve taken the plunge, faced his fears of needles and fluorescent-washed doctor’s offices like any man his age could have done and gotten the damn vasectomy. Now he was here, nearly two decades older and still none the wiser in this cold, dead world with a pretty young thing like you between his sheets. In lieu of elective surgery, Joel Miller had only to grit his teeth, bite hard, and repeat over and over again in his head, desperate:

‘Don’t cum, don’t cum, don’t cum, don’t cum, DON’T—’

Words like those normally worked. With women that weren’t you, they tended to serve him exceedingly well.

But you were just so tight. And wet. And welcoming. And try as Joel might to pretend like he got laid on a regular basis, the truth was that he didn’t. Wouldn’t. Couldn’t seem to think straight when it came to this fixation he’d developed for you, so, instead, he let his dick do all the decision-making whenever he found himself around you. Ten times out of ten that ended in:

“J-J-Joel—oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck—I’m gonna CUM.”

And that made it worth every last life-endangering drop.

Feeling how your flushed, lithe body came apart beneath his touch. How you needed him. How your eyes grew to half the size of your face and you gaped up at the man, lips parted, like you couldn’t even comprehend how the friction of seven inches could make you feel so good.

If he had it his way, he would’ve loved nothing more than to show you that feeling every night, and twice the next morning if his hip wasn’t giving him too much trouble.

But, at present, the man had bigger fish to fry. Like not becoming a new father at fifty-nine if he could help it.

With the last two fluttering pulses of your heat, and almost going cross-eyed from the pleasure as he felt it, Joel yanked his big, slippery cock out of your body and made a fist around his member as he always knew to do. Tugged and pulled and grunted above you—‘Sweet girl, you’re so fuckin’ good to me’—and watched your tits and your belly for the milky white ropes to ensue.

Strangely, though, your skin stayed the same.

No cum-spray Convergence appeared before him, no opaque and cloudy fluids dribbling down your ribs, nothing. Your stomach was as bare as the rest of you, save for a few beads of sweat, and that was all there was.

Joel shook his dick harder, confused. Beneath him, you were still coming down from your high smiling ear-to-ear and staring blissfully at the ceiling. Your chest rose and fell, rose and fell in quick succession, and while you endeavored to recollect your mind, Joel was losing his.

Where the FUCK was his cum?

In no naked horizontal tango to date had Joel simply…cum without noticing. Shit like that just didn’t happen to men, least of all to ones his age, so when he’d wrung his poor cock like a sodden towel and still saw nothing come out, he felt his stomach turn and plummet inside him.

He dropped to his hands and knees in less than a moment and lowered his head between your legs.

“No, Joel!” you squealed, giggling. Kicking your feet, “Another round and I’m gonna combust, you old perv!”

But Joel wasn’t looking to get his dick wet again. He was inspecting you. Or trying to, anyway. Quickly realizing he couldn’t see a thing in the darkness, he let out a breath through his nose and lifted you off the bed. Your naked frame thrown over his shoulder, bare hip beside his head and your strangled, muffled cry of, ‘What the hell, Joel?!’ hardly seemed to register with the man carrying you off.

You were toted to the bathroom. Joel was about to ease you down on your feet. Then, appearing to change his mind at the last second, he set you onto the sink instead. Your skin bristled with indignation, anger. A little arousal.

“Last time we did it on a sink we broke the faucet,” you reminded him, feigning more dismay than you really felt inside. If anything, you liked it when your fossil-age fuckbuddy switched things up. You were just exhausted.

Heedless of your words, Joel kneeled on the floor and pried your legs apart before him. When you swatted at his silver-flecked head, he brushed your hand away.

“Hold still,” he grunted.

“How come?”

“‘Cause I said.”

How quickly he commanded that tone of a father.

“Wanna sleep,” you groaned, about to roll your eyes.

But you couldn’t deny you liked being doted on by him.

Joel’s touch was gentle. Probing. Spidering down the most sensitive parts of your bare lower half, between your thighs, and slowly coaxing you closer to the edge of the sink. Your breath hitched when you saw his head tilt.

He appeared to be deep in thought—a rare sight for anyone who’d seen Joel Miller in the postcoital state. Most every time he’d blown his load before, the man was dead asleep within ten minutes. His joints could barely hold himself upright after a half hour of plowing the back forty, much less carry you, too, so you were puzzled now.

He thumbed at the seam of your cunt, and you whined:

“Jo-el—”

“Can ya…push, baby?” His eyes flitted up quickly.

“Push?”

“Yeah, just…” With a look you couldn’t quite read, he placed the palm of his other hand on your belly. Then, pressing, “Like this. Like you’re squeezin’ somethin’ out.”

You cocked a brow in muted confusion but did as he asked. You watched his gaze, and it stayed on you.

Or, rather, on that soft and pliant spot between your legs the old man seemed to favor so much. On any other occasion, in a position like this, he surely would’ve been wearing a smile. Tonight, his lips curled into a grimace.

And twisted even further when you ‘pushed’ like you did.

At first you felt nothing. A gentle clench of your walls supplied little more than a sense of having been stretched—no novel concept to you, who’d spent the last three-and-a-half months or so getting fucked by the finest AARP affiliate alive most every night. It wasn’t until you clamped down again that you got the feeling there was something else. Something thick and warm and slow as molasses trickling out from between your folds.

You let out a low, tender, ‘Mmph’ without meaning to; it felt kind of nice. Beneath you, Joel’s face turned grave.

He watched as his spend oozed out of your freshly-fucked hole and thought of vasectomies again.

You were young—too young to know better. Too sweet and naïve to see any peril in spreading your legs for a man like him, in a world like this. And Joel swore he’d be careful. But no post-apocalyptic birth control method was perfect, or even close to it, and it was clear he’d relied too heavily on reflexes to keep him from cumming inside you. Joel was old—too old to be doing this shit.

Too grown and well-versed in sex to be making mistakes as stupid as that. His brow pinched in, and he drew his next breath as if the air around him was growing scarce.

“Joel, what’s—”

“When’s the last time you— you— uh…bled?”

Hardly more in control of his face than the rate his heart went thudding in his chest, Joel winced at the end. This time, you were the one to knit your eyebrows together. You could tell by that tight, discomfited tone he wasn’t talking papercuts, but were still unsure of his purpose.

“Like two, two and a half weeks ago. Why?”

Well, fuck.

Joel buried his face in his hands. You scooted closer to the sink’s edge, thinking little of his cum leaking out.

“Why?” you tried again. Softer this time.

An old, weathered head lifted to greet you. It was bleak.

“You see this?” Joel paused. Swiping his finger through the viscous white substance that had trickled out on the counter, in a puddle now, “Y’know what it means, right?”

You let his look, and the question, remain suspended in air for a second. Then another. Then you shrugged.

“Yeah. But…you’re old,” came your answer at length.

You’re old.

Joel and you both knew as much, but the former wasn’t quite following your train of thought. Still wanting to try and mitigate damages while he could, though, Joel reached for the roll of toilet paper that was fastened to the wall and tore himself a strip. He bunched it up and, reaching for one of your knees to spread you further for him, took to daubing the tissue across your entrance.

“What’s me bein’ old got to do with anything?” A little sharp, then, seeing you flinch when he drew too close to your clit, “‘m sorry, baby, just— gotta get this out of you.”

You made a face but let him continue anyway. Your eyes followed each movement of his hand, and reflexively, the muscles in your thighs tightened. Why bother with this when the man has so many better uses for his hands?

For a second, your eyes fluttered half-shut.

“Maria says old folks are, uh…infertile. Got something to do with a middle pause,” you said, breaths labored.

Joel stopped just long enough to shoot you a look.

“Menopause,” he corrected, all too matter-of-fact, before returning to his work, “is a woman thing.”

What the hell were they teaching in Jackson’s sex ed classes, anyway? Then Joel remembered how his brother sincerely believed that women peed out of their vaginas until he was twenty-three, and the thought of you not knowing the ins and outs of male virility wasn’t the most far-fetched idea in the universe. Besides, sexual health wasn’t exactly the community’s highest priority when the world around it was in a perpetual state of decay and hordes of fungus-faced fuckers ran rampant in the wild.

He curved a tender, careful finger against the ring of muscles framing your sex, trying to absorb more cum, and your grip on the edge of the countertop tightened.

“S-So, you—” You swallowed, throat constricting a little too, “You’re sayin’…men can make babies…whenever?”

You sounded so innocent as you said it. Joel wanted nothing more than to club himself over the head for being the cause of this predicament—of being such an instrumental part of the perceived corruption, as it was.

Meanwhile, your head was swimming in filthier thoughts.

Deeper, Joel, keep…pushing in…dee-e-per. You would have scarcely had more luck giving a fuck what Joel was talking about now than if he’d just said the room was on fire. By his voice, you knew you should’ve been paying attention, but the dexterity of his fingers was too much. He was caressing the first couple inches of your inner walls, attempting to scrape what bits of his release he could get unstuck from the flesh, but it seemed he was succeeding mostly in just turning you on. Rendering you deaf to the drone of his words as you pictured him pushing something else inside your tight, throbbing—

“—whole lotta problems for us if you’re, uh…ovulating,” Joel finished, expression taut and oblivious. You hadn’t heard the first part of that sentence and didn’t care to.

“Ovulating,” you repeated slowly. Indifferent.

Joel carried on without a hitch.

“Kids just ain’t fit for this world. I know you know that.”

You nodded along, not hearing a word.

“And if you’re— if y’ever did consider, maybe…”

Your lungs took an extra sharp inhale when Joel’s fingers coaxed out a warm, sticky glob of his load, and he petted your folds with his thumb. Then let out a breath himself.

“…y’oughta start a family with someone your own age—”

That part snagged your attention. Too swiftly, it came:

“My own age?”

Sighing, in spite of those welts of pleasure so heightened by his touch that the space between your legs began to throb and ache. Hardly possessed of more sense to form words that weren’t just echoes of his own, you tried communication from a simpler source—your foot.

You nudged his shoulder, and Joel looked up.

“What?”

“What?”

Parroting was, evidently, a hard habit to kill. Your toes curled into the bare skin of Joel’s shoulder, and when he re-inserted his finger, you ground your heel even deeper.

“When’s that ev…ever stopped us from doing it before, hm?” you said, tone strained but laced with some humor too, “Thought you liked sayin’ you’d make me a mama.”

Joel’s face flooded pink at the recollection—as a matter of fact, there had been several such memories. Instead of answering immediately, he just averted his gaze again. He anchored one hand to your thigh, and with the other teased out another string of your shared arousal before wiping his finger on the tissue, clinically, and repeating. All he had to offer in reply after was: ‘That’s different.’

And it was, to some extent. Joel wasn’t blind to the sea of uneasy looks that trailed behind you both whenever you walked the streets of Jackson together. How wide the eyes would get when instead of observing some filial display of affection play out before them, as expected, you’d loop your arms around his waist and take his lip between your teeth as you kissed—‘Can we please go home now, baby?’—that Joel was certain he’d been cemented as the resident pervert among everyone in town. Just how much worse that reputation was liable to get if there ever happened to be a round and swollen belly between that embrace someday was unthinkable. Dirty talk was one thing; parenthood another entirely.

This is for the best, became the low, grating refrain in his skull. Why he dug so hard, pushed so far inside the wet, velvety interior of your body without a thought for his own desires in that moment; he had to cull every trace of himself out of there, before he had half a chance to think.

“Baby, hey, hey, no—” Joel cut in a second later, abrupt.

No, no, no. You weren’t thinking either. Wrapping your hand around his wrist, pushing his fingers deeper inside.

Smiling a little, too.

“What are you— no, honey, don’t— you can’t,” Joel’s words splintered in every direction, watching you plunge his own index and middle fingers into the slick and the warmth he’d just been trying to get his cum out of. He looked up and saw your lids were heavy, about to close.

“What are you doin’? This ain’t…no, baby, it ain’t…safe.”

Back to sounding like a dad in no time at all.

“What’s wrong with leaving it in a bit longer? Feels nice.”

You had no idea what you were talking about. Joel pulled back on his hand and, in less than a second, had it freed.

“I just told you,” he huffed, “You’re too young—”

“I’m plenty old, Joel,” you returned, eyes snapping open, “You’ve shown me that more times than I can count.”

Joel was silent, stunned. He rose to his feet as your eyes seared holes into his, and for a second, he was uncertain whether to take a step back or reach out for you again.

“Baby…”

To his surprise, something like hurt surfaced behind your eyes. You set your lips in a tighter line, and your grip on the counter grew firmer just the same. He would’ve taken that move as his cue to lean in gently, slot his body between your thighs, and venture an apology of some sort, when the next thing you did stopped him cold.

Without a word, you slipped your free hand between your legs—eyeing Joel closely, almost scornfully, as you did.

You took your middle and ring fingers and sank them into your cunt. Not intending to let a drop of his spend leak out, you wedged them in as far as they’d go. Joel watched. Gawked. Once sufficiently pleased with the look of shock taking over his handsome, aged features, you withdrew the fingers. You brought them up to your mouth, wrapped your lips around the tips, and sucked.

It was a rare thing to get a taste of you and Joel together like this, so you savored it. You moved your mouth further down to drink it all in, peering up with wide, indulgent eyes and a look that was meant to punish.

Feels nice.

Tastes alright, too.

You’d licked the last bit of this glaze off your hand when your stomach clenched. You knew it would happen. Full as you were, you feared your body still hungered for more. As such, it hardly came as a surprise when next your muscles tensed, and you shifted closer to Joel.

“Maybe I don’t want babies with someone my own age.”

Either one of your knees were nudging his hips. Drawing him in. Joel appeared to waver for a second, unsure, but the look on his face made it clear this was mostly a matter of a delayed reaction. He couldn’t get his legs to move because the rest of him was still in awe. Staring at your lips, where the residue of his spend was glistening, then to your eyes, which were no less inviting, then up to the crown of your head and over it, to fix his stare on the mirror behind it. You watched him watch his own reflection with a look that was both hard and unkind, breathing slow. When he didn’t stir from that position after a minute, you touched a hand to his lower stomach.

And, brushing the heel of your palm against what felt like a hundred grey hairs in the old man’s happy trail—your favorite ones—you smoothed a caress along his belly, back and forth, before moving it left. Your hand came to rest on a mound of muscle and fat sitting right above his hip. Love handles, Joel had remarked one morning with vague distaste. Love handles, you’d repeated, beaming. You held on tightly now, appreciatively, and used your well-loved wall of flesh to pull him closer. As with any beckoning of yours, Joel didn’t have so much as half a mind to resist. He did, however, refuse to meet your gaze while you tilted your hips and spread your legs wider, before winding your ankles around the backs of his legs.

“Don’t you think I’d look pretty?” You pouted up at him. Your folds made a light, warm suction rubbing along the front of Joel’s cock—of course he’d grown hard again, and you could hold him, point him down to that wet embrace awaiting him patiently at the edge of the sink.

Joel cursed under his breath.

“‘Course I do…” he said, voice hoarse, “Y’always look—”

“I mean…with your baby inside me, Joel. Right here.”

As if to put a finer point on your words, you nestled the head of his cock inside the first inch of your body. Joel had to seize the laminate underneath you and grit his teeth to keep from letting out a groan too loud. That tip may as well have been a first-rate conductor of heat, and your warmth the thing that might send him spilling again

“You don’t—” Joel choked out, nearly incensed, “—don’t know what the hell you’re sayin’, baby. What that means.”

In truth, there wasn’t a world Joel Miller could imagine where a girl like you could give more than a passing thought to getting knocked up by him—a man his age. What good would it do? You had your whole life laid out before you like a four-course dinner spread; there was no sense whatsoever in letting the meal go to waste on him.

He communicated as much by moving to pull out.

You met the effort with a push of your own, sinking down another inch or two on his shaft and smiling when you saw his eyes roll back in his head at the dizzying friction.

“I know more than enough, old man—” Grin stretching ear-to-ear as you dug your heels in his ass and tugged him deeper, “—who do you think taught me all this?”

Of course, it had been Joel.

Always, always him—the only one, in fact.

Your walls drew him in like a hug. For once, Joel conjured up the strength to take a look between your lower half and his, and when he did, the next moan was inevitable. It trickled through his lips. Your body looked sublime swallowing a third of his cock, and it was almost as though a maggot had crawled into his brain, chanting:

‘Make her full. Make her yours. Tell any man who’d even think of looking her way she belongs to someone else.’

He couldn’t.

Joel would never be so selfish. Just think of her youth.

But when his gaze drifted back to yours, every thought and any word besides seemed gently to melt away. Beneath him, your eyes were two pools of desire.

“You like this…don’t you, Joel?” Your voice was tiny.

“I do.”

In fact, he loved it.

“Then why can’t we?” Why shouldn’t we?

Minuscule now, the words that reached him barely exceeded a whisper. It was as though the moment itself had drained all fear from your face—and out of Joel, all common sense from his brain—leaving you both to stare at the other with shared, stupid, anoetic looks of bliss. The man who had you beat by thirty-odd years seemed nearly of the same mind, with almost identical ignorance.

Idiocy.

“Just once?” Joel croaked.

Somewhere underneath, unseen, you smiled.

“Just one?” you murmured back.

He sank in another inch. When your walls contracted around him, Joel’s hands found your hips by force of habit and pushed your back against the glass behind it. The mirror was cool, and inside you, Joel was throbbing.

“Once,” he repeated, not thinking too deeply.

“One,” you said, with a world of more purpose.

Joel relinquished the last three inches, and with it, all of his resolve. The handsome, scarred, and plainly greying features all twisted as one, and the expression that you knew too well to mean that the man was feeling good took on the slightest hint of guilt. He gripped you tighter.

“One?” Joel panted. Confused.

He pulled out halfway just to find his home again. Your pearly slick mixed together with his spend, and both coated over Joel’s shaft in a pretty, generous sheen.

“One more of you, I mean.” You sounded too sweet. There was no way in hell you’d actually meant it.

Joel’s cheeks flushed again, but he didn’t stop, either.

“Baby…” he trailed off instead. He pushed in, pulled out, felt your tender little hole make an ‘o’ around his shaft, and then he kissed the edge of your left cheek—maybe to rein in the need in his words before he spoke again: “One’a me takes and I’m givin’ ya fifteen more, y’hear?”

The smile he received told him as much as he needed to hear. He probably wouldn’t have believed it even if you’d said the words yourself. Joel’s thrusts sped up, and as the pleasure distended in the pit of his stomach with the friction and the feel, his words flowed a little more freely.

In disbelief, “Wanna be a mama that bad for me, huh?”

Your grin grew bigger. You nodded your head.

“Make your old man a daddy, is that it?”

Exactly. Senseless as it was, your look said it all.

To have slipped between the grooves and ridges of Joel’s brain and caught wind of even a fraction of the things he wanted to do to you then, a smarter girl would have run. Would have shoved him back out as swiftly as she’d let him in and told him no, that’s gross, and gone home. And, had the grey matter floating inside your own skull not been so completely dominated by primal need and wanting, that’s likely what you would have done, too. Instead, with a head full of lewd, youthful stupidity, you seized the black-grey curls dangling at the nape of his neck and drew him closer. You spread your legs wider.

“That is what you’ve wanted this whole time, right?”

Under his scruff, a muscle tensed as Joel bit down.

That’s all he’s ever wanted.

Let the neighbors talk.

Let them say what they wanted to say—it was probably all true to the point they were trying to make, anyway. That Joel was a pervert, of course. That you were naïve, also true. That you would look too good not to stare in a white cotton frock with a bump underneath, absolutely. These were the ideas permeating your brain and his while Joel took a firmer hold of your sides and brought his nose to rest against yours. With every stab of his hips, he pressed kisses to your soft, parted lips, speaking low:

“That what you want, too, darlin’?” More serious now.

The head of his cock nicked a sensitive ridge inside you, eliciting a whimper, but you nodded. You nodded again, feeling the brush of his stubble at your mouth and your chin, and nodded again when he bottomed out, stuffing you tight. It felt a little more momentous than any other time in the past, now that you were picturing a fullness that wasn’t just him. Him and you: a concrete being to soothe the sting of his absence long after Joel withdrew.

Something to stick.

“Please say it, baby.”

Someone to call yours.

“I want it,” you said, sounding desperate.

A coil was just starting to form in the place you felt him. Drifting up, pulling tight, making your eyes go glossy and wide while they stuck to Joel’s and begged him for more.

“Want what?” He sped up, and his thrusts got sloppy.

“Want you,” you breathed, “Inside me, Joel, please.”

As if predicting your next thoughts, the man lowered his hand to your belly. You hadn’t even noticed the smallest bulge had taken shape beneath the skin. Joel slowed, momentarily, then rubbed the base of his palm against the mound where your body was obliged to make room for his cock inside you. He drew soft, tender circles there and, with the motion, sent stars flying before your eyes.

“Good girl,” he murmured, “Right here?”

“Ri— right there. Right there.”

Joel adored that sound. The soft, elated look, the gentle knoll of flesh in a bump below his hand, the whimpers rolling off your tongue repeatedly, quicker and quicker the more the pleasure inside you continued to build. Joel’s release was coming soon, too. For the hundredth time that night, he silently wished he were a little younger; so he could fill you up once, twice, twenty more times until your insides were stuffed and painted white. As if reading his mind, as he had for you, you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him in for a kiss.

“Hope our baby has your eyes,” you murmured to him.

It shouldn’t have had such a strong effect—but of course, it did. Joel pictured the small, sweet infant with irises that shone a bit like his, and his stomach caved in.

Tonight, tomorrow, or ten months down the line, he was getting you pregnant. He’d clear his whole schedule for it

“That right?” And now he couldn’t stop the smile as he spoke, leaning even further in, “What about their nose?”

He kissed the tip of yours.

“Hope they get this.”

He kissed either one of your cheeks.

“These too.”

You had to fight back a laugh while his scruff tickled skin. Two deep strokes away from the brink of release and he still somehow always stayed in tune with your needs.

The threat of your peak was perilously near. Joel’s spend and your slick, tender glaze made a chorus of sounds at each thrust, and the deeper he went, the bigger it swelled. Your smiles couldn’t stay for much longer when the feeling inside you both was being amplified like that. Sensing this, Joel took hold of your face and slipped his touch to cup your chin. He made you tilt your head up to him, as if to ask again, ‘Are you sure?’ and when you nodded, his lips twitched again. A fleeting hint of a grin, like he couldn’t be more eager to finish now if he tried.

Holding your face, cock swollen and throbbing and desperate between your walls, he felt a familiar twitch.

There it is.

[doctorho]

dripping velvet, purring dark

Academy era Viktor x fem! curvy reader, 4.5k, no warnings only love in this house (ok there is a conversation about some people being idiots which can be interpreted as the reader getting unwanted attention at a party but it's nothing graphic or anything i promise and no-one is mean to her) also i made viktor horny and slightly subby because that's what the gremlins in my brain wanted. you're welcome. yeah! hi! not sure what this is, but here you go. the reader is described as she/her here (and curvy, and soft, and she is wearing an evening gown, because i wanted to think about pretty dresses). idk. have a thing. happy friday.

Viktor likes to think of himself as a person who's usually capable of focusing on things pretty well. On the task at hand. Give him a faulty circuit and he'll poke at it long enough to find the broken component, no problem. An error in the calculations? He'll find that missing minus sign or forgotten exponent, easy. He'll strip a wire in his sleep.

The task at hand now, though? The problem?

He had to sit through a whole evening of presentations at the academy end-of-year party, put on a polite face for the investors, and pretend not to care that one idiot after another was lining up to flirt with you while he was watching from the sidelines. You were wearing a dress that felt sinful to look at, and there was something primitive gnawing at the inside of his chest begging to be let out, and he had to just stand there and nod through the conversations, pretend he wasn't slowly boiling from the inside out.

And he was failing miserably. 

He’d known he was in trouble from the moment he saw you that night – all expensive fabric covering smooth curves and soft-looking skin, sparkling eyes and easy smiles, and he’d been done for. Before this, it’d been much easier to compartmentalize his feelings; before this, it'd been easier to ignore them. 

Before he’d kept his distance, emotionally and physically speaking, because, well, it’d been easier. He'd seen you around the Academy, all bubbling laughs and raw-honest radiant smiles and confident solutions, and he'd known that you looked…appealing, but he wasn't in the habit of holding up any illusions about what you might think of him in return. His place was in the dark dusty corner of the lab, turning over the ever-ticking problems, while you were out there shining like the sun. And sometimes you came by the lab, with new ideas or suggestions or just to borrow some equipment or ask about a shipment, and he had resigned to his role of staying at his desk pretending he wasn't burning to be closer to your orbit. 

But when he sees you in the low lighting of the party, leaning to the bar and laughing, something just breaks in him. And then he can’t pretend to ignore it any longer. And sure, maybe he’s a little bit drunk, it was easier to stand these events that way, but it still feels like a solid-honest truth in his bones that he wanted to get closer to you, and suddenly he couldn’t stand the conversation he was in the middle of. Because one of them – the sour idiots he’d catalogued in his head for the whole night, the stupid people trying to impress you with their embellished stories and inherited wealth who weren’t worth your time – one of them was circling you like a hyena again, smiling.

You were wearing a dark, floor-length gown that wasn’t, on a purely technical level, much different from what about 50% of the other guests were wearing. However, it seemed to create a significant caveat that even though there wasn’t anything indecent in the dress itself, seeing it on you made him feel like maybe he shouldn’t look at you for too long or he might spontaneously combust. There was a slit on the side that revealed a more than generous amount of leg when you walked, and his focus kept wandering from that to your silhouette, the soft curve of your hips, your chest, your face – no, that’s worse, don’t stare, she'll notice – and truly, he had to force himself to keep his eyes at least vaguely on the vicinity of the person who was currently talking to him. Something about statistics and return investment. Yes. 

He nods, pretending to look interested.

The dress drapes over your hips in soft little cascades, the fabric shimmering lightly as you moved, and something in his brain was itching, begging to run his fingers over it, to know what it feels like, to know what you feel like under it, all soft and warm and pliable under his fingers, and preferably sighing something into the crook of his neck, and–

“We'd like to get our investment back within a year,” the guy that's talking to him says – Viktor can't even remember his name, and he doesn’t really even care – and he just shifts his eyes back to the guy slowly. 

“A year?” he repeats, with the barest amount of feigned interest, and the guy goes off in a whole new tangent. Viktor shifts his posture, and lets his eyes glide over to where you were again. 

One of those idiots, one he thankfully doesn’t have the displeasure of knowing personally but who must be the son of some crooked diplomat, says something to you and you scoff through a smile, roll your eyes, and lean further into the counter at the bar. Viktor has to pretend to be present for his own conversation – yes, the new coating material for the wires was more heat-resistant, no, there was still the issue of mechanical stress, they were working on it – and you say something in answer to the current idiot (third of the night, he’d counted), and it is killing him that he doesn’t know what it is. 

You’d turned down the first two, from what he could tell. But this latest idiot was still talking to you, like he was in any way entitled to your company. And it's making something inside Viktor raise its hackles, and he doesn’t especially like feeling like that, because he couldn't justify feeling like that to himself in any tangible way, and then it all just boiled down to a resigned even if she deserves better than that i have no business dictating that for her. 

He's just about to focus on the conversation he was supposedly participating in again when something happens. He can't make out the details, but imbecile number three seems to lean way too close to you, says something, and smiles in a way that makes something cold creep down the back of Viktor's neck. And your expression coldens, too, and you say something to him, and turn away, more rigid than you'd been the whole evening. 

“Excuse me,” Viktor is saying to the Investment Guy before he can fully think it through, his own voice feeling distant in his ears, and then he's walking to the bar. 

You're alone – the idiot had had the sense to leave you alone quickly, at least. That's good. Viktor isn't sure what he's doing, but then he's leaning to the bar next to you and ordering another drink and trying to look like he isn't thinking too hard about what to do next. 

“Whatever he just proposed to you,” Viktor says slowly, looking over the bar instead of directly at you, “I assure you you can do better.”

He can hear you take a deep breath, shift a little, and sigh it out with what sounded like almost a laugh. 

“Yeah,” you agree, “I don't know what it is about people like that that makes them think they can just…” You sigh again, and make a hand gesture towards the room. ”You know.”

“Unfortunately,” he answers, resigned, “yes. I do.” 

He gets his drink and thanks the bartender, and then leans to the counter too, mimicking your posture, holding the drink and letting it swirl around in his glass. “Have you talked with anyone actually worth your time tonight?” 

You hmm. Then, “there was a little girl earlier that told me some fascinating things about insect metamorphosis.” You say casually. 

And Viktor laughs. Without meaning to, he laughs, and you smile in response, visibly relaxing a little.

“I don't think she was on the guest list though.” You continue. 

He hums in response, and rearranges his grip on the handle of his cane. “Sounds much more interesting than the conversations I've been in tonight.”

“I know,” you answer, and he can hear the smile in your voice, “you think we could swap out one of the main speakers with her?” 

He hmms again, looking over the stage thoughtfully. “I think it would count as a public service,” he nods a little, considering the list of speakers yet to come, “what do you think, who'd be a good target?”

You shift in your place, looking over the same list of speakers, plastered over the walls on both sides of the stage. “The financial talk,” you answer, “Mr. Ross. I'd much rather listen to insect facts than another boring talk about investing.”

Viktor nods. “You distract him, I'll whack him unconscious?” he offers, and you laugh. You laugh, and it warms something in him. 

“And then what?” you continue, still smiling, and he has to look away to keep his composure. 

He shrugs. “Eh,” he answers, “we drag him to a bathtub somewhere and act like he just passed out there?" He shrugs, "I happen to know three ways to get out of this room that I'm pretty sure we could use unnoticed.”

“Uh-huh,” you answer, “and then we just find the girl and ask her if she wants to talk about bugs for half an hour. Easy.”

“Exactly,” he agrees, “and then we congratulate ourselves for making the evening better for everybody.”

"Except maybe Mr. Ross."

"No," he counters, looking over the crowd, "I think he would prefer a nice little nap. Surely not even he wants to hear himself talk all the time." He takes a sip of his drink, "and I think waking up in a bathtub would be a nice change of pace to the rumors of other places he seems to have a habit of waking up in after events such as these."

“Good point,” you shift in your place, settling to lean to the counter a bit closer to him. “Perfect plan. But why'd you get to whack him unconscious and not me?”

Viktor blinks. Lifts one eyebrow. “Because you are by far more distracting than I am,” he answers, “and I thought the plan could use the distraction.”

“I don't think that's true,” you answer, “I think you're plenty distracting on your own.”

Now, he lets himself look at you. Really, properly look at you, and not even half-trying to hide it. You're smiling now, shoulders relaxed, holding your drink with fingers wrapped loosely around it, and in the warm lights of the bar there's a golden glow on your skin, and something breathless at the bottom of his stomach is aching to get closer to you, to touch you, to see if his hand would fit on your waist as well as he thinks it would, to see how you would react to that, if he could make you smile in a different way, what sounds he could get you to make for him–

“Agree to disagree,” he says, averts his eyes, and takes a sip of his drink. 

Tries to tell that wild-hungry purring thing in him to behave. 

Someone reasonable comes to talk to you – and it's about work, which is…something, probably, he has to stop himself from thinking it's better than those earlier idiots, because who's he to decide that for you? He gives you a casual wave and a nod as you depart with a smile and get swept up in the conversation about new ideas and solutions and this-new-thing you've been looking at. And he watches as you start talking excitedly, all golden and glittering, easy conversation and confident smiles, and quietly (not-so quietly) he concludes that maybe you hadn't had many worthwhile conversations with any of the guests that night because you were the most worthwhile person in there to talk to. 

He stays there sipping his drink and wondering what would be the closest appropriate time to slip out. He'd made an appearance, and technically nothing could be expected from him beyond that point. Sure, Jayce might tell him he could've stayed a bit longer, he could use the support, but nothing dramatic would happen. 

The party drones on, and he makes no effort to move – and really, he tries not to think about it too much, but that was at least in part because he wanted to keep looking at you. He promptly ignores this, even when you're laughing at something someone else said and that heavy-dark-purring something at the bottom of his stomach doesn't like it very much. 

Someone comes to ask for his opinion on something, and with a tiny sigh, he lets them pull him into the loop of conversations again. Yes, we are trying to simplify the design, no we can't cut back from the materials, they are what they are for a reason. 

Somewhere around his third ‘Why would you think that?’ of that particular conversation, he's had enough. People were stupid, and he's had enough. He's just trying to come up with ways to get out of the conversation preferably without starting a scandal of some sort, when he feels a gentle hand on his shoulder. He turns around to look at who it belongs to, and then everything in his head is quiet for a moment. 

“Hey,” you say, smiling, “sorry to interrupt, but can I steal you away for a moment?” you ask, slipping your hand feather-light down his arm, and he has to suppress a shiver. 

Viktor furrows his brows and opens his mouth, and then, like an idiot, says nothing. But he turns to leave, thankful for the window of opportunity.  

“You remember that thing we talked about before?” you continue as you steer him away from the earlier group smoothly, “I found someone who's interested in those three escape routes you had up your sleeve.” 

“Who?” he asks, because that's the only thing he can think of. You've linked your arm with his, and you're leaning on him, and you're soft and warm and you smell good, and he doesn’t trust his ability to form a full sentence. 

“Me,” you answer, “and judging by how you just looked out there,” you continue, “you.”

Viktor swallows, and something in him purrs at the idea. 

“This way,” he says, nodding towards an old stage exit, and honestly, he doesn’t even care why you want to leave, he's just grateful for the distraction and the company and drinking in every warm square inch of skin contact that you're willing to give him, even if it is just walking with your shoulder pressed against his. 

If it turned out to be a plot where you actually wanted to whack someone unconscious, he'd worry about that later. For now he was just happy to leave, and happier that you were leaving with him. 

It's easy to slip away from the crowd, and into the space between the stage curtain and the wall, if you know where you're going. You effortlessly fall a bit further from his side but keep his hand on yours, letting him pull you along, and quietly he wonders how and why and holy shit. He decides not to question it though, and keeps walking through the dim space between the cold old wall and the cascades of warm heavy velvet curtains. 

“Do you want to leave the party,” he asks, voice quiet now that the background buzz of people was muffled by the curtain, “or just get away from it?” 

You hmm behind him, clearly through a smile, and he makes the mistake of looking back at you. Surrounded by the dark red velvet curtains and only slivers of light from each side, his head – and the rest of his body – get entirely the wrong idea of what you're doing in there, because you look like a goddess in the small dim space, and he might crumble into ashes if he keeps looking at you, or he might do something stupid like pull you closer and press you into the wall, to see if your eyes would widen, if you'd gasp from the cold wall, if he could find other ways to make you gasp–

so he turns his eyes away and keeps talking. 

He quickly finds he has to clear his throat before he can do that. “There is a staff entrance that goes past the kitchen a little ways further,” he says, and motions forwards, “or there is a disused indoor balcony surrounding the stage. You would be able to see the party, but it'd feel…removed.”

You lean closer, close enough that when your voice is muffled by the surrounding velvet, it feels like you're speaking right in his ear, and he has to swallow and remind himself that that's just situational coincidence, nothing more. 

“Why do you know so many ways to get out of here?” you ask, “You sneak out a lot?” 

“I am a fan of interesting architecture,” he answers, “and not as much a fan of pretentious social gatherings.” 

“Fair,” you answer, then lean your chin on his shoulder, and he feels like his spine might spontaneously melt. “In your expertise, what would you recommend?”

“Well,” he says, trying to make it sound casual and like he wasn't breathless at all, “I think the balcony has some fairly interesting architecture.” And the lights of the party would look pretty from there. And you'd both get a breather away from the crowd. And he'd get to keep talking to you a little bit longer. And, as selfish as the thought felt, he couldn't deny it; he'd get to keep having you to himself for a little bit longer. 

“Show me the balcony,” you smile, and he obliges. Happily, he obliges. So he pulls you into a narrow staircase, and then, up. 

At the end of it there is a room that could, only by technical definition alone, be called a balcony – it was more like a hole carved into the wall, having at some point been used for seating or equipment space at events and concerts, and now just served as half-forgotten extra storage. It had, he supposed, once upon a time looked like the banquet hall did, all smooth surfaces and warm lights and thematically switched-out decorations, but now it was mostly the standard red velvet and dark wood and light marble, forgotten by the party and some of the golden light from the hall spilling into it by pure coincidence. There were velvet curtains on each side of the room, and you drop his hand to go look over the railing, and down at the party. 

His hand instantly feels cold without yours in it, but he tries his best to ignore this, and follows you to look down at the party, too. 

It looks much smaller from up there. Less chaotic. 

“I didn't know there was a space like this here.” You say quietly, “can they see us?” 

“Part of the design,” he answers, “you're not supposed to notice these spaces unless people want you to. Good place to hide extra orchestra pieces and make it feel like the sound is coming from nowhere. And–” he looks over at the people, colorful and mingling, “no, they can't. Not unless you want them to.” Then, he smiles, just a little. “But they'll be able to hear us, if we direct our voices upwards and wait for things to quiet down there first.”

You turn to look at him. 

“Sloped ceilings,” he explains with a shrug, “again, good for a hidden orchestra accompaniment.” 

“But they can't hear us talking?*

“Not over themselves,” he answers, “ironic, I know.”

You hum thoughtfully and turn around, with your back to the railing, and then you look at him and he needs to kick his brain back in line. You were gorgeous in the dim lighting, all relaxed and smiling, and–

He grips the handle of his cane a little tighter. 

“Good,” you say, and the way you say it – all quiet and warm and liquid – makes something in him purr again, entirely against his better judgement. 

“Why is it good?” he asks, because he has to hold on to some semblance of logic here, because otherwise he might just vaporize out into the atmosphere. 

“Why do you think?” you ask, slowly turning to face him, and oh that just isn't fair. You're just there, just a warm breath of space away, all soft and pretty and languid–

He doesn’t know what to say, so he goes with what feels like the safest course of action. 

“In case we want to plot any more ways to violently derail the evening's program?”

You exhale a small laugh and lean back. 

And then you lift a hand on his chest, and he's pretty sure his heart might be overheating soon. 

“Sure,” you answer, “that.” You inch closer, and Viktor is having a hard time remembering how to breathe. “Or anything else we might not want them overhearing.”

“Like?” He exhales, careful not to break the moment, and then you smile, warm and private and for him, and his insides liquify into warm, honey-thick goo, and oh, he’s not going to recover from this. 

“Like,” you repeat slowly, and then you push yourself away from the balcony railing, just slightly, into the side of the wall covered by the velvet curtain, and he lets you pull him with you, he's not stupid. His brain – along with the rest of his body – might be in the process of actively melting, but he's not stupid. If you wanted to pull him into a shadowed, velvet-covered corner, he would follow no questions asked, especially on a night like this when his insides were buzzing and you looked like that. When you looked at him like that. You smile again, and stop moving when your back hits a wall, and then you pull him just close enough to whisper into his ear. “...Anything else we might not want them overhearing.” you repeat, and, yeah, Viktor is close to becoming the best documented case of human combustion in recorded history. 

In the dim lighting, he searches your eyes into his, and you watch him, waiting, radiating heat between him and the velvet-covered wall. He's not sure why you were acting like this, but all signs were pointing towards you wanting the same thing he did, and he's not sure what he did to get this lucky, but with his every cell buzzing and vibrating and keening over to get closer, he wasn't about to let the opportunity pass. 

He wants to ask ‘why me’ or ‘are you sure’ but what comes out is a broken, desperate whisper of a “can I touch you?”, and you answer with a grin and with your fingers tangled to the front of his shirt, pulling him closer. 

“Yes,” you breathe, “please.”

And really, he wouldn't have thought it would be so simple, but it's the please that does him in – just one whispered word and his brain short-circuits in an overflowing flash of white-hot need. Need to trigger that again, need to please, and need to finally give in to the pleasure waiting to boil. And then it all comes rushing out; the hunger. 

His hands are on your waist in an instant, and his cane clatters to the ground as he leans his weight on you and the wall and for a moment, he has the sense to hope the curtains don't come tumbling down, and they don't, which is good enough for him, because then he can let go of that particular worry and focus solely on finding your lips to his and making the most of every second of this that you're willing to give him. 

The sensations hit his brain like flashes of bright light; how soft you are under his fingers, like he'd hoped, the fabric smooth and silky, giving away easily under his touch. How warm you are, warm and breathing in a fluttered little gasp, the dusty old velvet mixing in with your sweet scent, and then when he gets his lips on you–

After that it's just golden-dark-velvet-honey-thick bliss. You breathe out a small sound that drips down his spinal cord and goes straight to the purring pit at the bottom of his stomach, and he swallows it with a hungry, greedy, desperate groan that comes from somewhere deep inside his chest, and his head is swimming with warm and real and soft and for me–

He is happily overloading his brain with this, and he doesn’t even care. He presses closer to you and you exhale another sweet little sound that makes him bare his teeth, and then his lips are on your neck and he doesn’t know anything except that he wants you to keep making those sounds and he likes the way your hands tangle in his hair and tug. 

“Tell me what you want,” he mutters to the skin of your neck, pulling you closer by the waist, and absolutely relishing in the way your chest rises and falls with short little pants he can hear you take in and out. In and out, and as he tugs at your waist again, just a bit closer, and drags his teeth against your pulse lightly, one of those exhales turns into a sweet little whine. 

He grins against your skin. 

He doesn’t waste the time or energy pretending he isn't an absolute mess over you, right now – his own breathing ragged and fast and his heart hammering in his ears, his whole body buzzing with want – but that didn't mean seeing you react that way didn't make him want to purr. 

Didn't make his insides heat up with I did that. I got her like this. She made that sound for me. For me. It's mine. 

You take a breath, slow and rugged, and then you tug him towards one of the velvet-covered seats. And he moves like he's floating, letting you guide him, because what else is he going to do? You tug him into the seat and he sits on it, gladly, and stays there looking up at you with his eyes wide and only half-lidded and his heart hammering, waiting for more. 

You give him another one of those small, private, knowing smiles, your eyes hazy, and then you step to stand right in front of him. 

And then you hover over him, just waiting for him to pull you into his lap. He does, because he is selfish and greedy and burning, and he's pretty sure he's going to implode if he doesn’t get that delicious pressure on him soon, and his hand fits your waist perfectly, and then when when you do straddle him, your hips pressing down on his, he whines. He lets out a breathless little whine, he can feel it in the base of his spine, and it makes that hunger in him want more. 

“Only the voices directed upwards travel down there, right?” you ask, voice quiet and dripping right into his ear and pooling at the bottom of his stomach. 

He swallows. “Yes.” 

You hum thoughtfully, and press your body closer to his, all soft and warm and perfect, sinking your lips down to his neck and he shivers, instinctually tilting back his head with a sigh, exposing more of his neck to you. 

“Better keep quiet, then.” 

[moongreenlight]

141 gossiping about Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley for roughly 3,000 words idk titles are hard

Price was the first to notice. Priding himself on being incredibly observant, especially when it came to his boys.

He noticed that whenever they had a break from trainings or meetings, he’d somehow always find the two of you in a room together. Never close enough to give him reason to say anything. You scribbling notes on a patient report at one table, Ghost at another, his chair angled just enough so that he could watch you from the corner of his eye.

Noticed the way Ghost’s hand rested on the small of your back for a heartbeat when you entered a doorway before him. Just a brush of his massive hand on you, quick enough to be mistaken for an accidental touch.

Noticed how Ghost’s eyes seemed to always flick to you from across the mess hall. Not often, but enough for Price to casually turn his head and see that same nurse Ghost seemed to have a preference for.

At first, Price thought he could help by being a wingman of sorts. When Ghost took damage on a mission, Price would escort him to medbay and watch as he dismissed nurse after nurse until you were finally available to treat him. Price lingered as long as he could before you inevitably waved him away, cheekily reminding him you always took good care of his team and that you’d have ‘Lieutenant Riley’ back in no time. The only thing he could catch was the way Ghost’s shoulders relaxed by a hair’s breadth when you drew the curtain shut behind you.

He tried again during a meeting with his boys. Suggesting they bring a medic on a mission with them. Said something about how it would be better to have the option of a patch-up readily available. Keep his team fighting fit in real time instead of having to wait until they came back to base. Price saw the way Ghost tensed slightly in his seat, the muscles in his jaw twitching under his balaclava.

The notion was quickly vetoed. Ghost grumbling something about not wanting to babysit any more than he already does. How it’s ultimately more paperwork he doesn’t want to have to deal with.

He tried once more, going to Ghost’s office one evening. Almost turning tail once he realized how ridiculous it was to be this insistent on figuring out if his Lieutenant had some boyish crush on the sweet nurse he always seemed to be lingering around. But ultimately decided that it was good practice to know more about his team personally. Better bonding meant better interaction on the field, right?

He asked Ghost to redo some paperwork. Add a ‘next of kin’ to his file in the event that something happened and they needed to alert someone. Ghost looked a little suspicious, shrugging off the request.

“Left it off for a reason, Captain.”

He said gruffly, waving a hand. Barely looking up from his desk.

Price pursed his lips, shifting his weight slightly.

“You sure, Simon? Haven’t got anyone that’d be interested to know what happened to you?”

Ghost rubbed the bridge of his nose, like the conversation was more trouble than it was worth, before shrugging once more. Finally looking up from his desk and leaning back slightly in his chair.

“You planning on shipping me off somewhere and not picking me back up?”

A small chuckle from Price. A shake of his head.

“Can’t say I am.”

“Cheers, then. Leave it off.”

This quelled Price’s curiosity for a while, unable to dream up any other reason to try and force Ghost to indulge him. It no doubt hurt his ego a bit, thinking about how his Lieutenant and one of his closest friends was so dead set on keeping his personal life so closely guarded. He’d push the feelings aside, chalk it up to being jaded by his work. Over-involved in the lives of Soap and Gaz. It was probably good for Simon to have something sacred.

Soap wasn’t as easily deterred once he caught on. Not as immediately perceptive as the others, but he knew Ghost well enough to know his tells.

It was after a long mission. Months long. Grueling, shitty, exhausting work. They got back in the early evening, mercifully spared from a debrief until the following day. Soap somehow ended up dragging Ghost to a dive bar a few blocks from base. Trying to sound persuasive when he mentioned that it was a Friday night and they deserved a few drinks and some female attention after all this time going without.

And they did get attention. Two good looking military men sitting at the bar were bound to. Soap knew that Ghost wasn’t one to play the field, but this was a bit frigid even for him. Ignoring girls who came up and tried to strike conversation. Rolling his eyes, or huffing a sigh like it was a chore to even dismiss them, drumming his fingers on the wall of his glass like he’s bored. It was baffling.

What was even more baffling was the way that Ghost’s knee bounced slightly against the stool. An infinitesimally small movement, but the way it caught Johnny’s eye made it seem like Ghost was all but jumping up and down. He looked almost anxious. Itching to get up and leave.

“Fuck’s wrong with you?”

Ghost’s head jerked toward Johnny, cold eyes narrowing in a way that would have been terrifying years ago- before he’d gotten used to it.

“Come again?”

“Got somewhere to be, have you?”

He sounds almost indignant. Like he can’t believe what he’s seeing. Ghost is stand-offish by nature, but this is a caliber he hasn’t yet encountered. Almost enough to be offensive. To make him question the quality of his company.

“Maybe I do. What’s it to you?”

Ghost grumbled, killing the contents of his glass with a final mouthful. Setting it back on the counter and moving to drum his fingers on the bar.

“Been out of the country for months and you expect me to believe you’ve got plans tonight?”

This earned a sigh, low enough to pass as a growl.

“You keeping my social calendar now, then?”

He stood, digging through his wallet for a moment before slapping some cash down on the table next to his empty glass. Not giving Johnny an opportunity to lodge any further complaints against him. Before he nodded his goodnight and slipped out of the bar. Mumbling something about needing to get back to his flat and check on some things.

Soap couldn’t get his mind around it. Ghost was elusive, sure, but again; something seemed off. He was calm, cool, and collected. Wouldn’t be caught dead manifesting his impatience physically. The fidgeting and twitching in his seat. The first place Soap’s mind went was maybe Ghost was dying? That’d be the only reasonable explanation for his behavior. But even then, it seemed a bit extreme.

The next day after the debrief, which was nearly as brutal as the deployment itself, Soap was still so in his head about Ghost’s behavior he almost didn’t notice the pretty nurse who seemed to be waiting for someone at the end of the hall. In fact, he was so stuck in his own mind, he only caught a fleeting glimpse of Ghost’s back rounding the corner with the nurse at his side. Hushed conversation disappearing with them. A softer, much more pleasant voice than Simon’s.

He debated whether or not to follow them, maybe answer the questions that’d been plaguing his mind. Ultimately, he decided in favor of it. Padding down the hall behind the duo who seemed to be headed back to Simon’s office. They weren’t walking closely enough to touch, but Soap immediately picked up on the tension between them. Like the distance was serving some sort of purpose.

Soap lingered in the hallway for a few minutes after the two disappeared into Ghost’s office, trying to sort the pieces of the puzzle he’d barely began collecting. He ultimately decided to go the route he was most comfortable with. Not one for sneaking about, he simply strode up to the office door and swung it open.

You were sat at one of the chairs in front of Simon’s desk, him standing with his arms folded over his chest next to you. Not compromising enough for Johnny’s taste, but he still put on a wide grin and nodded to you.

“Forget how to knock?”

Ghost’s voice was calm enough, but his eyes were shooting daggers straight through Johnny. You looked stiff as a board, chewing the inside of your lip through the tight smile you were giving him.

“Sorry, L.T. Needed to know if you’re still on for trainings this afternoon.”

He didn’t miss the way your eyes flicked to Ghost, communicating something that he couldn’t quite decipher wordlessly before you began studying your nails in your lap.

Ghost cleared his throat, rolling his tongue in his cheek. Growling something obscene under his breath. The agitation rolling off of him in waves.

“No. Got another assignment.”

And with that, Soap was all but thrown from the office. Querying about this ‘new assignment’ the whole way. Simon crowding him to the door until he finally snapped it shut on his nose.

He heard later that day Ghost was seen in medbay with a toolkit swearing at an X-Ray machine that had been giving you trouble for a month. After that, Soap was on the two of you like a fly on shit. Never missing an opportunity to bring you up to Ghost or vise versa. Mock-innocently saying something to Ghost in passing at dinner about you. Asking if he fancied you. When he said no, Johnny shrugged and nodded. Saying he was glad because he had plans to ask you out the next time he was injured.

That comment landed Soap in the bay sooner than expected. Escorting him to a different nurse’s exam area and standing guard the entire time his black eye was being iced. Berating him for not being able to block a few punches when they had sparred after dinner.

And Gaz, sweet boy that he is, was always more emotionally in-tune. Observant about the little things. Able to pick up on queues Soap and Price may have missed over the years. He was keen as he was quiet, keeping all his little discoveries to himself. Over the years, he’d created a small arsenal of moments he wasn’t sure were significant enough to bring up. Things he could have talked himself into imagining if he thought about them hard enough. Not wanting to jump to conclusions about anything.

But he noticed the incredibly subtle tan line on Ghost’s left hand. Noticed the way he tapped his foot impatiently when the debrief after a long deployment ran long. Noticed the way you always seemed to be around the yard when they touched down after a mission. The way your shoulders dropped when you saw all four of them had returned home. Like you had just been relieved the duty of holding up the sky.

He didn’t immediately connect the dots. Initially thinking that you’d just taken a special liking to the task force. They were some of your most frequent visitors, after all. Price had all but claimed you as their own. Specially requesting that you were the only one to patch their wounds, claiming the other nurses couldn’t hold a flame to your skill.

He didn’t mind. Came to enjoy the little chats the two of you had when the curtains around the cot were drawn. The little kikis you had where you chatted about anything and everything. Complaining about your jobs, irritating patients, botched missions, the morsels of gossip from around base.

One day, after a particularly nasty skirmish on a mission, all four of the men had gnarly wounds. You looked a bit more tired than usual. A bit more on-edge. Your answers were a bit more flat than they usually were. So the first part of the assessment was left mostly silent spare for a few soft “thank you’s” on his part.

It was only when you were bandaging a wound on his thigh did he notice the shape of a ring on your left hand under your glove. A thin band that wrapped neatly around your finger.

“Didn’t know you were married, doc.”

It was a passing comment, more just to spare him the agony of trying to hide his soft groans of pain in the thick silence.

You hummed your acknowledgment, focused more on working sutures through his skin neatly than anything else.

“Lucky bloke. Hope he’s good to you.”

It wasn’t flirty or predatory, like so many of the soldiers could be. A genuine thought. He’d always thought you were sweet. Easy to chat with, always offering him a smile and a chirped greeting when the two of you passed in the hall. Thought you deserved someone to share in your kindness.

You smiled, brow still furrowed slightly in your focus while tying off the stitches.

“He does alright.”

You chuckled softly, straightening on your stool and rolling back just slightly so you could meet his eye.

“All these years and you never mentioned. I’m hurt.”

He words came with a practiced ease, slipping back into your usual playful chatter without missing a beat. Flashing a coy grin as he carefully flexed and relaxed his leg. Getting a feel for the newly patched wound.

You rolled the gloves off your hands and tossed them into the bin. Standing from your stool to scribble a few notes on his chart.

“Not something that ever came up.”

“Now it has. He have a name? How long you been together?”

You chuckled once more, looking over your shoulder at him with an arched brow. A little skeptical of his curiosity.

“A good while.”

He noticed the way you evaded his former question, like you’d done it before. It only fueled his curiosity.

“You worried I’ll know him? Or are you embarrassed? Not much of a looker?”

This earned an amused snort from you, turning away from the chart you’d been working on.

“Nothing wrong with wanting to keep my personal life personal, is there?”

You winked at him, pushing open the curtain that divided the small exam area from the rest of the bay.

He made a small sound of protest, making no move to stand from the cot just yet.

“Alright, forget it. Didn’t even want to know anyway.”

He sounded like a child being denied a sweet. Even playing up the act with a small pout on his mouth.

You tutted softly, conjuring up the best mock-sympathetic look you could before motioning for him to stand.

“We’ll talk later. Captain’ll have my hide if I keep you away a moment longer than is necessary.”

Another sound of protest, followed by a throaty groan as he finally pushed up off the bed. Unsure if he was being dramatic or if the aftermath of the mission had truly gotten to him that bad. Always a flare for the dramatics, him.

He muttered his thanks, cupping your shoulder in his hand as he trudged out. Making you promise to have a proper chat with him later.

He lingered in the bay, allowing himself a few moments peace before getting back to work. Just as he finally turned to leave, he saw Ghost moving stiffly- like he was trying to downplay a limp- toward your little exam area. Though for some reason, the scene looked a bit strange to him. He couldn’t help but peek in.

He caught the way you watched him lumber over with big, worried eyes. The way your nails dug into your palms until he was finally within arms reach. The way you quickly glanced around to see if anyone was paying the two of you any attention before your hands flew to his neck, fingers slipping expertly under the hem of his mask and yanking it up over his nose. Not rough or angry, but with the kind of urgency that suggested you may die if you didn’t see a sliver of his skin. Make absolutely certain he was truly there with you.

The most jarring part- Ghost actually allowing you to touch the mask. Allowing your little hands to breach his personal space. Hands that would have easily been dwarfed by his own, swallowed up and twisted or shoved away like he had seen happen so many times in sparring matches with prospect soldiers. But Ghost just let it happen.

It was a flurry of movement, so fast that Gaz was certain he could have blinked and missed it. Frozen watching the two of you from just behind another exam area. Feeling like he was intruding without even meaning to.

And then he saw the way Ghost’s big arms snaked around your waist, drawing you flush to his front. You leaning up onto your toes to bring your face closer to the Lieutenant’s. A fervid kiss. You flinging your arms around his neck. The way your shoulders shook. A small, choked sob that Gaz was all but certain he imagined. Drowned out for everyone else by the sounds of the bay.

He was almost shocked that the world continued to move after that. Shocked that something that seemed so monumental could happen tucked away into your barely private exam area. Shocked that your reunion hadn’t halted time and space for everyone else like it had for the two of you.

He felt dirty. Like he should go up and apologize for lingering and seeing what he saw. But he stayed rooted to the spot, finding it impossible to move.

Truly the most damning part was when he caught the quickest glimpse of your badge just before the curtain was tugged shut. The badge you kept carefully pinned to your uniform face-down for a reason he couldn’t fathom until now. Twisted free for just a moment and finally connecting the snippets of information he’d collected over the years.

(Y/N Riley)

[ranunculussy]

enigma | spencer reid fanfiction

part 01. - tuesday

ꕥ part 02. | part 03. ꕥ pair: Spencer Reid × BAU!fem!reader ꕥ warnings/tags: canon-typical violence, mentions of human trafficking, swearing, somewhat oblivious Reid and reader, age gap, moderately jealous Spencer, slow-burn, mutual pining, rivals to lovers, english isn't my first language so bear with me pls, idk about other warnings ꕥ word count: ~4k ꕥ summary: Spencer can't quite figure you, his rival out and this annoys him more than it should [this fanfic is also available on AO3 with the same title and username]

The violin's iconic, somewhat sharp sound sent shivers down your spine as the small, elegant live band started to perform one of their original songs. The tunes had a vintage, old-money vibe, which matched the deep, honey-like voice of the singer. In some way, their performance reminded you of Lana del Rey, even though the lyrics had no resemblance to the woman’s work.

The upper part of your elegant black dress hugged your body perfectly, while the skirt flowed gracefully around your legs. You dressed moderately so that you could be wired, but you still managed to fit into the fundraising gala you attended, mostly because Penelope did wonders with your makeup and hair. You seemed rich and smart. Like a calculated businesswoman, someone who knew exactly how to play their cards right. The only drawback was that if things came down to a chase, running in a long dress could cause trouble. And no, the high heels weren’t a problem, like at all. You couldn’t even count how many times you had to catch assholes in bars while wearing impossible shoes and sometimes also being tipsy, but you were always quick and efficient.

“See anything suspicious, babygirl?” came Derek’s voice from your earpiece which was disguised as an earring.

“All I see is suspicious” you murmured while raising the glass of champagne to your mouth as if you were drinking, to subtly cover your moving lips. “I cannot even count how many illegal deals were made under the table in this last hour.”

“Focus. Someone here has the exact time and coordinates of the next auction. If we lose that, we lose countless victims who are being trafficked” joined into the conversation your boss, the always collected and stoic Aaron Hotchner. You caught a glimpse of his figure from across the fancy, dimly lit ballroom. He was dressed elegantly, which wasn’t so different from his usual attire.

You carefully walked around, making your moves as elegant as possible. As if you were flowing amongst the crowd. You listened into conversations, trying to catch anything that’d indicate that the speaker had the information you needed. You and Aaron went undercover as attendees, mingling with the various guests who all had unimaginable net worth and power. It was intimidating but you tried not to think about it, afraid you’d blow your cover. The rest of the team was stationed near the entrances and exits. If the person who knew where the next auction was going to be held sensed that you were onto them and they’d try to slip away, the others could catch them outside.

“Try not to get distracted by the smooth-talking” you heard Reid’s almost condescending voice from your earpiece which made you tempted to take it off.

“On the very safe assumption that this was meant for me and not Hotch, fuck you.”

“Just saying” Reid laughed at the other end of the line but didn’t say more. If the case wasn’t as intense as it sadly was, he would’ve continued bickering. It would’ve been pointless trying to deny how much he enjoyed arguing with you, picking small fights, and being on your nerves, just as much as you were constantly dancing on his.

Ever since you joined the BAU almost a year ago now, you were the source of Dr Spencer Reid’s dilemmas. Solving problems, puzzles, solving everything was Reid’s thing. But even after nearly a year working together, he still couldn’t figure you out, which bothered him more than anything.

You walked into the BAU’s bullpen with a soft smile on your face, wearing black straight jeans and a lavender-coloured button-up shirt. The team knew about a newbie joining them, but they didn’t look up anything about you. The unintentional crossing of personal boundaries was a constant problem amongst them, they didn’t want to voluntarily ruin things by basically stalking you. So, you walked in with a shy smile on your face. Everyone was waiting but they didn’t want to make things awkward. Emily was the first one who walked up to you, whom you greeted with a genuine, warm smile. JJ should’ve walked you through the building while letting you know the basics and then introduce you to the team, but she was caught up at the bank, being late for the first time. That’s why you were more anxious than usual.

So, the first meeting was even more awkward than you’d previously anticipated. But the small group of unordinary individuals were welcoming. Derek cracked some jokes almost immediately, making you laugh and even fire back something quick-witted, starting the process of getting to know each other a bit more light-heartedly.

You quickly became a soft spot for everyone. You were kind, attentive and funny. You tried to memorize every small, personal detail about the others and later do things as they preferred. For example, once you caught Emily saying that for some reason, she always had a stomach-ache from cinnamon and since then, you always made sure that whenever you brought some snacks or cookies for the team, Emily never had any of that spice in it. You also noticed how Penelope obsessed over anything colourful and over the top – it would’ve been harder not to notice, to be honest, so every now and then you surprised her with small things like silly stickers or tiny figures to decorate her tech wizard cave.

It was so easy to have a conversation with you. You could talk for hours about literally anything, whether it was serious or something fun. You matched everyone’s vibe, fitting into the BAU family perfectly.

And now onto Spencer Reid. He first saw you as a rival. To begin with, you replaced him as the youngest, by far. And of course, the unofficial title of being the youngest of the BAU meant nothing, came with no benefits and didn’t matter. He wouldn’t be salty due to such a silly thing. He was way above that. Except that he wasn’t. He didn’t handle change that well, and the youngest title being ripped away from him, even if it was such a trivial matter, annoyed him.

It also turned out very quickly that you were intelligent as hell. Of course, dumb people can’t make it to the FBI. But above being intelligent and very well-read, you pointed out his flaws more than he liked. Obviously, you weren’t smarter than him. He had an IQ of 187, an eidetic memory, countless PhDs and BAs, years of experience and an overall thirst for knowledge, so it would’ve been impossible for almost anyone to outsmart the doctor. But he was also human. Sometimes, he made mistakes. Sometimes, his calculations were wronged by the unpredictable nature of humans. Of course, as a profiler, his field of expertise was human behaviour, but this field meant one of the highest chances of error, especially at the beginning of new cases, where a huge part of the profile was educated guesswork.

Many times, you were the one who found the possible mistakes in his calculations and theories, and you were the one who came up with the solution that helped the most in the end. However, even though you were intelligent and sharp, your mind, and due to that your way of thinking was rather chaotic. It seemed as if you were jumping to conclusions without a proper explanation which oftentimes sounded illogical at first, causing some arguments between the two of you. But you were smart. You were able to challenge him in a way very few people could. Your subtle rivalry gave him a feeling of rush, some adrenalin and a healthy kind of excitement. So, even if Spencer would’ve never admitted it, he enjoyed the louder arguments too.

On top of that, Spencer also didn’t fail to notice how you were considerate towards him too, even after some fights. You couldn’t be called friends either. You were co-workers with a continuous but tamed rivalry - while also joking around sometimes -, at best. Still, if you were making coffee in the breakroom, you usually brew a cup for Reid too, despite he rarely asked for it. You simply memorized the times of the day when he usually had his caffeine intake and if you were drinking at that same time too, you also gave a cup to him just the way he liked. Also, you were very mindful of physical contact. If you handed him anything, you made sure that your fingers weren’t touching.

Spencer liked this. He was so used to being the one who was willing to read the others around him and adjust, that the feeling of him being read and actively kept in mind felt very weird in a good way. Of course, he knew if he asked literally anyone in the team to do something differently or avoid doing something, if possible, everyone would comply without any problems. But he would’ve had to ask them. Not with you though. And that’s what he really appreciated.

And if all of this wasn’t enough for a confusing relationship between workmates, there was the problem of him, not being able to "decode" you entirely. You were chatty, very kind and open to literally anyone. You were helpful, patient and so on. You talked a lot. But what bothered Spencer is that even though you were always talking, you never said anything about yourself. The team didn’t even realize that they knew nothing about you. About the real you. You were so good at being the hyperactive, talkative sunshine of the group that it slipped past them how you carefully kept any kind of personal detail a secret. Or if they noticed it, they let it slide. Dancing around the topic of privacy amongst them was hard enough already. No one wanted to overstep.

But Reid was intrigued. He wanted to know more about the person who was able to so confidently push his buttons almost every day. He tried to ask some more specific questions, but you effortlessly managed to answer them without saying anything personal and still sounding natural. Sometimes he didn’t even notice that he was getting nowhere, only after the conversation was over.

To sum it up, you were an enigma. As his rival, you gave him excitement with each argument. As the team’s newest sweet girl, you tried your best to make everyone happy around you while completely shutting everybody out, without them noticing. The ball of sunshine who many times didn’t even flinch at the violence that surrounded them every day. For some reason, he couldn’t easily dissect your personality into a thousand different pieces and find a reason behind everything you do, as he usually does with others, and this annoyed him a lot.

“Y/N, I think I have something” murmured your boss into your ears through the earpiece, making you look for him in the crowd. You quickly caught a glimpse of his determined figure as he approached some men near the bougie marble fireplace.

“Should I join in?” you asked.

“Not yet. We have no exact profile of anyone who’s an attendant at the auctions. I’ll see how they react to me first.”

“All right, I’ll be close,” you said as you blended into the crowd nearby. You could only hear parts of the conversation the suspects were having since you had to engage in small talk and courtesy with others, so you wouldn’t stand out from the elite guests.

“…my wife will be here soon. She just went to get some champagne for me...” it was safe to say that this was your sign. Yes, calling you his wife was a bit unexpected, but not an entirely impossible scenario. When you were going through some phrases to use or not to use, how to be polite while remaining elegant, because politeness can easily be misjudged as being humble and weaker, Hotchner and you being married was also a highly optional outcome. This gala was so low-risk, filled with powerful and important people, that even those who were cheating with one or multiple other people, didn’t dare to bring their sidepieces. Those who had come with partners all came with their spouses. So, you grabbed another glass of champagne for your boss and walked over to him with a smile on your face.

He looked effortlessly elegant as he slightly leaned towards the marble fireplace while engaged in a conversation with two other men.

“Hey honey,” you said while tiptoeing and hinting a small peck at your boss’s face. You already knew that the team won’t ever shut up about this. You could almost hear their teasing. “I’ve brought your champagne.”

“Thank you, darling,” he said as he pulled you a bit closer by carefully placing his hands on your waist. “This is my wife, Charlotte, who I’ve mentioned before.”

“Cameron Wallace, nice to meet you, miss.”

“Brian Pierce, a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

“The pleasure is mine, gentlemen,” you said with a small smile on your face as you reached forward with your right hand, allowing them to hint one small kiss above your knuckles.

“So, darling, you know how we have problems with finding someone who’d make our marriage more interesting while still keeping it confidential” Hotch started talking almost nonchalantly.

“Guys, Cameron Wallace was a hot topic a few months ago. He comes from old money and had everything planned for his life by his filthy rich parents up until a few months ago. He was newlywed when shit hit the fan. He cheated on his wife with some high-end swinger who then ratted out everything to the media. And by everything, I mean literally everything. Not just the hook up but every single business secret the family had. Cameron got divorced, disowned and kicked out from the Wallace Corps, which is still at its lowest, by the way,” chimed in Garcia, giving you a little heads up, helping in which direction you should take the conversation.

“Ah yes. Nowadays you can never be sure about who you’re letting into your home. One minute you could lay in bed with them, the other minute they’re selling all your secrets and ruining your reputation, your whole life you’ve been working so hard for. It’s such a shame, really.” you said while you placed your palm on your chest as if you were soothing your aching heart. And bingo. Cameron caught the bait. By empathizing with him, even if it seemed unintentional on his part, he automatically felt more at ease around you.

“Totally agree. You could even buy a house for these whores and most of them would still sell you out” Cameron rolled his eyes. He was tall and conventionally attractive. Wavy dark brown hair, deep green eyes, muscular build, blindingly white teeth. Everyone who looked at him was able to tell that he was a total bitch.

“It’s awful what money does to people nowadays” I agreed, feeding into his ego. Brian was silent, more collected. He seemed older too, more around the age of Hotchner than you.

“Mr. Pierce seems weirdly clean and unproblematic, so it’s safe to assume that he paid a shit ton to get his past erased. For him, I’ll need more time.” rambled Penelope into your ears, and you took this as a warning to proceed with caution if it comes to the older man.

“I’m sorry, it must be a mistake on my side, but I didn’t quite catch your last name, Charlotte,” said suddenly the man. For a quick moment, panic rushed through you. He didn’t ask for Aaron’s full name, Garcia let you know via your earpiece. He was testing you directly. But you had no idea whether he was looking for a submissive wife or a confident, almost dominant one. You knew he was already playing out a fantasy, including you and if you picked the wrong role, the whole mission was fucked.

Okay, let’s calm down, Y/N. You are an excellent profiler; you can easily figure out a man. If I look at them as a team, Pierce is obviously the dominant one. Even if both are alpha males, Wallace is younger and short-tempered, probably narcissistic too. Brian Pierce seems smarter and much more manipulative, even able to control Cameron without him noticing it. I think he gets off on feeling powerful as an authority figure. He didn’t even talk that much with Hotchner, recognising that they’re somewhat similar which didn’t interest him, and only joined in the conversation when I was talking too much.

“I have my husband’s last name, of course,” you said with a shy smile while you started to fidget with your fingers and avoided Pierce’s gaze. “I think it would be disrespectful towards him to have it any other way, sir.” you heard a small, approving hum from Brian, so short you almost missed it. But this gave you the green light you desperately hoped for.

“And let me ask you a somewhat indiscrete question, miss. Is it you who wants to spice up your marriage with an additional person or your husband?”

“Both of us, Mr. Pierce. I love my husband more than anything. Everything I have is thanks to him and his hard work. I am truly fortunate that I caught his interest a few years ago in a similar event and I want to do everything to keep him interested. So, if he is curious about how it would be to have a third person in our bed, I’m more than happy to… experiment. I am just afraid that this person would try to harm my dear Aaron in any way.”

You heard the others snorting or even laughing at your monologue in other parts of the line and you almost broke character yourself. At this point, you couldn’t even blame the others for making fun of you in the future. You totally deserved it.

Your boss was silently looking at you, playing the part of a manipulative husband who was satisfied with his wife’s answers, revolving around him and only him.

“In that case, may I recommend a small event? Not even an event, I’d much rather call it a confidential get-together between people with similar interests. My wife and I had a similar problem, and we found a solution there not so long ago. She is a perfect addition to our lives without causing any difficulties.”

“I’d be more than open to anything, Brian,” said Hotchner with a small smirk on his face as he pulled you closer to him.

“One of my dear friends will host a private party in one of his villas in the countryside this weekend, I’m hoping to see you there,” said Pierce, shook Aaron’s hand and left, not even bothering to say goodbye to you. Cameron nodded and also left, leaving you two to be.

You slowly lowered your gaze to Hotch’s palm, in which there was a small, seemingly normal name card. But both of you knew it was so much more than that. It was your clue and a ticket to the auction, being held four days from now. The mission was successful; however, it came with the awkward part of having to play husband and wife for the rest of the night with your boss, to avoid suspicion.

“I am so sorry, L/N. They were giving subtle hints of the event, but I couldn’t get through them alone. They are alpha males, and I figured they needed to test you since both see women as a possible liability, even the wives.” apologized Aaron quietly, as if he was whispering something entirely different to you.

“It’s okay boss, we both knew this outcome could be a possibility,” you said and took a small sip of champagne. “I bet the team won’t let this slide anytime soon, though.”

“I wouldn’t even dare dream of it. Still, nice work, Agent,” he said in his usual, stoic demeanour, only his slight smile gave away that he was proud and satisfied with your performance. Without you, as the dumb, obedient wife, the team couldn’t get the information about where the traffickers would hold the next auction.

×××

“I am just afraid that this person would try to harm my dear Aaron in any way,” said Derek in a high-pitched voice with closed eyes and palms pressed on his chest. You were in your everyday attire, finally being able to move comfortably without the heavy dress.

“I love my husband more than anything. Oh my God, what would I even do without my precious husband?” joined in Emily, with a huge grin on her face that she couldn’t hide. The team finished for that day. It was way past the end of their work hours, but since the gala was held late at night, all of them were aware that this would stretch into whatever plans they originally had. They were in the small, stingy locker room, getting their coats and bags so they could leave the building.

“I’m so glad you’re enjoying yourselves at my expense, guys,” you said as if you were annoyed, but couldn’t hide the playful smile that was plastered on your face.

“Careful, her darling Aaron will beat your asses if you push the matter too far,” even Rossi had some commentary, in his usual, seemingly monotone style.

You couldn’t control the situation. Not that you wanted that much. You always enjoyed the light-hearted bickering and how everyone joined in when there was a chance to get on someone’s nerves.

“Can we expect another little Hotchner soon?” asked Reid not so far from you, who was organizing the contents of his brown satchel bag. His wavy brown hair hid most of his face as he looked down into the bag, but the tone of his voice gave you a hint that he was also just joining the others in teasing you. With his long, delicate fingers he carefully sorted out the books, newspapers, pen case and spectacle case that got mixed up in today’s work.

“If my dear husband deems that we need another small prodigy, I am more than happy to do my wifely duties and give him a child,” you said and tried to act as if you wholeheartedly believed every single word you said, causing the team to laugh at your silliness.

“Come on, Mrs Dutiful Wife, you’ll have plenty of time for that, now let’s finally call it a day,” said Derek jokingly as he hugged your shoulders with one arm and started to walk out from the locker room next to you.

Dr Spencer Reid was standing next to his open locker, gazing forward but not looking at anything. His brows were furrowed, and he looked quite annoyed. Like, when a crossword puzzle was made incorrectly, ruining his whole morning. What’s funny is that he had no idea why he felt that way, which made him even more pissed.

“Coming, Reid?” came the question from Emily who was about to leave the small room. He noticed that the doctor was standing in one place, so she called out.

“Of course, sorry. I just zoned out for a moment. Long day.”

He hated not understanding exactly everything about himself.

[earfqwake]

Not sure if you only write for the Adult trio but if not, do you think you could make a version of big brother illumi x sister reader but instead of illumi it's Killua? Like, in the fic Y/n was originally supposed to be Killua's (But it was Illumi who mated with her instead) So could it stay like that? Again idk if you even write for him so it's fine if you can't do it! Thanks <33

Alpha Killua/Brother X Omega/Sister Reader Part 1

okay so like kind of the same basis as the illumi story just different as in reader actually is mated to killua this time, he is aged up and so is reader okay ? okay 🫰

tw: slight obsession from killua and yes incest !!! don’t read if you don’t want to. brother sister relationship though this part doesn’t contain anything explicit as it’s depicting their relationship growing up. will be multiple parts because i have a lot to say.

Light can’t exist without Dark.

When Kikyo Zoldyck found out she would be having twins she crossed her fingers and prayed to a god she didn’t even believe in that this would be the one, the heir of heiress of the family. Imagine the families surprise when two white haired babies were birthed on July 7th. Even Silva who rarely showed emotions other than stoicism was pleased at this moment in time.

Well Y/n, their new baby girl had half white hair and half (Y/H) colored hair but still this was the first time in the lineage Zoldyck history something like this happened. Though all that mattered is that Killua was born, both a male and with a full head of white hair. Since birth the two were inseparable, only fully calming their cries when they were near eachother.

At dinner they sat next to eachother always and if they didn’t the other would be visibly more upset. They napped together in random spots around the mansion always being found in the most peculiar places. Under Silvas Desk, Inside the kitchens cabinet, Underneath the staircase. And they shared a room by choice, until Silva forced them to have separate rooms at the age of 8. He needed to end their codependency as soon as possible. That didn’t stop them from sneaking into each others beds most nights.

Must have been fate, that such a blessing had occurred. Or so they’ve been told time and time again, but no one could break their bond that’s for sure. The pairs parents decided that they were more than likely going to end up as soul mates, promising strong pups no doubt.

Even though they were too young to have understood, Killua was relieved to hear this. No one would be good enough for his little sister, even tho he was only minutes older than you he never failed to remind you. He didn’t care much for other girls anyways none of them were as special as you.

They were polar opposites, Yin and Yang, but they fit together perfectly. Y/n was the sweetest most sensitive person, even though she was strong she had such a big heart. Too big of a heart for an assassin to have. A heart that Killua vowed to protect, he was his sisters keeper. The latter was more assertive and dominate than his sister, always leading them into trouble and taking the fall should they ever get caught.

“Where are they off to now?” Mumbled Kikyo as she frantically searched the forrest around the mansion for the twins. Only to find them running circles around Mike the enormous guard dog who didn’t seem to mind their company. Kikyo almost fainted when she saw your pretty blue gown now dirty from playing outside with your brother. You were her only girl so she was terribly overprotective of you.

Killua, like always hid you behind him as his mother threw a fit, because god forbid kids try be kids. “It was my fault mother, Y/n didn’t want to leave the garden but I took her out with me.” Which truthfully wasn’t a lie, you tried to warn Killua that Mama wouldn’t be happy but he said he’d leave you behind so you ran after him with teary eyes. But you had fun so a little punishment was worth seeing you smile.

Though he couldn’t always evade you from being punished he always tried. It meant the world to you that he would be willing to protect you no matter what. You wanted to be brave like him and you tried to, but your heart was just too soft. Hiding your tears and frowns didn’t work with Killua, he couldn’t just ignore it like the rest of his family.

When he would sneak into your room routinely sometimes he would catch you sobbing. Either because your punishment was too harsh, or you felt bad for having to kill your target. Your body sore from being attacked during a day of training, tears fell from your eyes as you sensed him enters your room. “I don’t want to do this Killua.. I’m trying to be strong for Mama and Papa but it hurts.” And he’d hold you and soothe you until you slept peacefully. Only then could he shed tears for you.

And he knows he shouldn’t like it, but you always cried the hardest for him and him alone.

“Onii!” She’d cry out and hug him after seeing the cuts and bruises he would have on his body after hours of pain resistance training. He didn’t cry much anymore, but it sure did hurt, though he’d never admit it to you. Hugging her closer, he couldn’t help but give you a tired smile. “I’m fine Y/n, see.” But she only whimpered and stayed in his embrace she knew he was lying. “Such a crybaby..” He sighed as if it troubled him, yet nuzzled his head into her soft hair.

Killua didn’t like seeing his sweet little sister cry, training was hard on her. At age 12 he begged his parents to opt her out of training, if he were to inherit the family business he didn’t want his sister to have to kill and possibly be killed that wasn’t a risk he was willing to take. Silva and Kikyo denied him this request, so he and Y/n ran away together to take the hunter exam.

————————————————————————

It sent us on such a journey, meeting many different people and making friends ! Real friends, we were never allowed to make any friends back on Kukuroo Mountain so imagine their surprise to see a boy their age also taking the exam. Y/n was infatuated with Gon, calling him her friend, staring at him, laughing at his jokes and it made Killua feel a bit jealous. Before Gon he never had to share Y/n’s attention before other than with his younger siblings.

“What’s the matter Onii?” Y/n questioned during the second phase of the hunter exam, they broke off from walking with Gon and the others because Kil grabbed her and rushed off into the fog without saying. He said nothing and just focused on navigating through the fog with a firm hold on her hand. Even if he was upset he wasn’t going to let anything bad happen to you.

“Are you mad at me…? What did I do wrong?” Tears starting to form in her eyes. Chest tightening at the idea of upsetting her brother. Sighing he glances at her before staring ahead again. “It’s stupid… I just don’t want you to replace me with Gon.” Voice barely a whisper he confessed his feelings to you, only you could make him vulnerable.

You hug his arm and smile up at him noticing the slight blush on his serious face. “Don’t worry Killu-nii, he’s our friend, but you’ll always be my best friend okay? It’s always going to be me and you, we came here together and we’re going to leave here together!” How could he be so naive, she’s just so sweet and she always put Kil first. Smiling Killua nodded and when they met up with the group there were no more issues with jealousy. Y/n would never leave her brother.

And eventually they both arrived back to Kukuroo Mountain after parting ways with Gon, both holding Allukas hands. During their trip the pair having learned nen and being capable users were certainly much stronger than when they left.

Ironically Y/n developed a nen ability that made her able to use her tears to heal others, mainly for the sake of Killua who she couldn’t stand seeing injured. His heart was floating when she explained the reason why she developed this secondary ability. And selfishly enough he didn’t just let her heal just anyone with her gift, if he didn’t feel they were worthy of your time or tears they could rot in hell for all he cared. Y/n trusted Killuas judgement though and didn’t question how he assessed who she should or shouldn’t heal.

The twins were great fighters naturally but with the added ability of nen they were a unstoppable duo, just as Silva had predicted. Yet Killua saw the dangers of nen with his own eyes witnessing what it did to Gon.

————————————————————————

Again he came to his Father directly with the same request that fell upon deaf ears last time. This time around however, Silva agreed only if Killua were to become an assassin and continue the family business. A steep price for your safety but he needed to know you would be safe.

It hurt him more than any method of torture to see her sad but deep down a small part of him loved that she cried for him. She was someone who cared and always showed it, making sure to kiss each of his visible cuts. “There all better, right Kil?” She’d smile at him and he went weak for it every single time.

At puberty is when you find out your sub race, whether you’re a alpha, omega, or a beta. Killua obviously was an Alpha. Stubborn and a born leader, if he wanted something he was going to have it. And you? No doubt your an Omega, naturally submissive in nature listening to your parents and following after your brothers every word. Always nurturing and caring for him and your younger siblings. So it went without question when you both presented as your said roles.

The two of you were walking side by side in the forest surrounding the mansion straying very far from your home. “See I told you didn’t I, Y/n.” He said with a toothy grin his canines nice and sharp. I nod and smile sweetly at my brother, “I didn’t doubt you Killu-nii !” He called long before we could confirm what we were.

Recalling all the times he would tease you, “You have to be be an omega! Why else are you such a big baby!” Only eliciting a pout from me and he laughed poking my cheek with his finger. “I think it’s cute, don’t worry when we’re older I promise to take care of you and your moody feelings, I’ll be a good Alpha.” His voice sounded serious like he was trying to convince me and he only laughed again as I hid my smile and blush.

“Wait up, Kil!” I ran briskly after him as I shake myself out of that memory. He was much taller than me now, and stronger. And he grew his hair out into a long messy mullet, looking more and more like Papa as we got older. (He only grew his hair out because he got jealous when you would braid and play with Illumis long hair, but he’ll never admit that. Ever.) You changed too, your curves becoming more prominent especially with the training you did. Your beauty only increased as time passed your mother making sure to always keep you dolled up.

And boy did Killua enjoy it, always telling you how pretty you are and being sure to do small things for you like brush your hair or pick outfits out for you.

Grinning mischievously Killua only goes faster, disappearing into the greenery surrounding you.

I huff and puff as I search everywhere for him in the area we’re in. “Come on Kil! I’m not going to play with you right now.” But he doesn’t budge from his hiding spot probably thinking it’s funny. Fine two can play at this game! I pretend to be upset and sigh turnin around to head back home alone. “Fine I give up. I’m going home now Kil.” I barely get three steps back in the direction we came from when I feel his arms wrap around me from behind.

I jump slightly and weakly attempt to escape his arms feigning as upset but he won’t budge. “Where do you think your going hmm? I was only joking Y/n don’t be such a crybaby about it.” He snickers when I go lax in his arms holding me there for a moment before spinning me around so he can see my pouty face. “Y/nnnn? Don’t be like that, you do this to me all the time.” He drawls out my name as he looks me over.

Leaning closer to him I give him my sad eyes and he squishes my cheeks. “Such a baby.” He mumbles looking at my lips before looking back into my eyes. He drawls forward so our noses are touching gives me a bunch of small pecks on the lips. Furrowing his brows when I don’t reciprocate his affections he mumbles on my lips “ I‘m sorry Y/n.” Sweet moments like this are regular between you especially when you’re far from home like this.

I smile and feel my cheeks heat up under his hold on me. And he knows he has me right where he wants me. My arms extend as I place them over his shoulder loosely. Instantly he accepts this by pulling me in closer, his hand on the small of my back. Placing kisses all over my cheek he still speaks in a low tone, “You forgive me?” I nod my head basking in his affections but still not reciprocating his touches. His voice sounds desperate as he pulls me back far enough to get a good look at me again. “Why aren’t you kissing back then?”

i smile sheepishly and pretend I’m going in to kiss him but flick him on the forehead. Now it’s his turn to pout as I laugh and slip from his grip running through the forrest. Smiling himself he chases after me, “Hey! I knew you were faking it you big baby.” Secretly though he’s relieved that your back to your normal cheerful self, and you’ll be sure to make up for it when he catches you.

Your laughter rings throughout the forest as Kil catches up to you giving you a wolffish grin and pulling you in closely waiting for you to finally give him a kiss. 🦋

————————————————————————

Zeno watched the two leave the mansion, shaking his head before facing his son Silva. “It’s only a matter of time now before they give into their instincts. You shouldn’t let that boy run around with her without supervision or we will be expecting pups sooner than later.” Silva only sighed watching as they disappeared into the forest line, his father was right. Regardless of how stern he was Zeno had a soft spot for the little girl and so did Silva.

Not that it wasn’t anticipated by the family that the two were doting on each other already. But it was too soon for you two to fully mate you had to wait until you were 18. Only then would you know if the two of you were truly meant to be together. He would have to get you on heat suppressants in the mean time and have Killua sent away during ruts. Taking necessary precautions, you two weren’t little kids anymore.

𝓽𝓸 𝓫𝓮 𝓬𝓸𝓷𝓽𝓲𝓷𝓾𝓮𝓭

-𝓴

[marsbutterfly]

..cowboy hanji

that’s it

Headcanons: Cowboy! Hanji Zoe

a/n: BITCH. YOU UNLEASHED A MONSTER.

warnings: nonbinary! hanji zoe, fem! reader, fluff, they do throw up at the end so idk sjfaopfa be aware of that. also, this is lowkey inspired by stardew valley and i didn't beta read, we die like men

/ cowboy! hanji has always been the town's favorite. they are known for their little quirks, such as taking in every stray animal they find in the desert and nursing them back to health, or mixing drinks down at the saloon while no one was looking and daring their friends to drink it. It never ended too well.

/ cowboy! hanji is oblivious to the fact that every girl in town has a crush on them. like, it's pretty bad actually. they keep getting "not so secret" messages from girls they've just met, saying how they are "soooooo smart, and kind, and have the most beautiful smile." they think they are just being nice.

/ cowboy! hanji never believed in love at first sight until you moved into town. you were moving in to take over your grandfather's old farm after spending most of your life traveling around and collecting all the knowledge you needed to make things work.

/ cowboy! hanji didn't know someone new was moving in, so when the mayor introduced the two of you, they immediately turned into a blushing mess, unable to even form a single coherent sentence. but when you giggled at their antics, they knew they were fucked.

/ cowboy! hanji immediately offered to be your tour guide, they were so excited to have someone new to talk to about the different kinds of vegetations and you had more knowledge than anyone they had ever been around. oh, all the information they could learn from someone like you.

/ cowboy! hanji who always stops by your farm with new books regarding the town's history, dishes they learned to cook during their childhood and their designated recipes. they always do their best to come early in the day to help you care for your crops, or take care of your animals, even help you take stuff into town to set up your stall at the market. they don't mind the temperature and seeing how happy it makes you, just makes it all worth it for them.

/ cowboy! hanji has a thick, velvet laced southern accent. it's a little stronger than anyone else's and, at first, you do have some trouble understanding them. but the more time the two of you spend together, talking the night away over a bottle of aged whiskey, the more you understand them. not only the way they talk, but also the way they think.

/ cowboy! hanji who carries around two guns and three knives. if there is one thing about them is that they refuse to be underprepared for any kind of danger, even more so now that you have come into their life and they found something that they want so desperately to protect.

/ cowboy! hanji who never saw themselves falling in love with anyone, but can't seem to get you off their mind for a single second. the simple idea of seeing you later in the day makes their heart race and they clutch their hat every single time.

/ cowboy! hanji who sees you and tips their hat at you. a simple sign of respect that always earns an honest and gentle giggle out of you because the two of you have been close for a few months at this point.

/ cowboy! hanji who can tie any knots and lasso literally anything that moves. the first time one of your cows escaped, you tried your best to get it under control yourself, but your talents involved plants and crops and the mere idea of lassoing anything caused a small wave of panic to wash over you. luckily for you, hanji was right on time for their morning help with the chores and, as soon as they saw the runaway cow, they chased after the animal and lassoed it with such ease that you can feel your face burning with embarrassment. you repaid them with fresh lemonade and a pie.

/ cowboy! hanji who always considered themselves to be straight forward but can never get a single word about their feelings out when it comes to you. their entire face turns bright red and their brain stops functioning the minute they see you smile. it's their biggest weakness.

/ cowboy! hanji who invites you to the town's festival one day, explaining how it's a massive tradition and how everyone would be there. you ask if you should bring something or maybe set up a stall and they shake their head, saying they'll take care of everything and you should just save up the most delicious looking veggies and fruits you've harvested so far.

/ cowboy! hanji who pays a group of teenagers to take care of your stall at the festival so the two of you can have some fun. it's a thoughtful gesture and you insist on paying them back, but they deny it immediately. the two of you go back and forth for a while until they decide that the only way you can repay them is for you to be their arm candy for the night.

/ cowboy! hanji who refuses to let you pay for any food or any of the games around the festival. they get you to try their favorites and the two of you continuously have eating competitions or seeing who is going to win more prizes by the end of the night or who will be the ultimate hero.

/ cowboy! hanji whose eyes immediately glow when they notice the mechanical bull at the town's square. the mischievous glint never fading as they look at you, only to realize you share the same look in your eyes. no words are needed for the two of you to understand each other, running to place your prizes behind your stall and making your way towards the line.

/ cowboy! hanji who gives up so easily when you flash them those big, puppy dog eyes and they agree to go first. they're experienced, more so than most people, so it's not easy to knock them down. as you count, it takes nearly a minute to get them off the back of the fake animal and you set it off as a personal vendetta to beat their record.

/ cowboy! hanji whose lips can't seem to close the longer you stand on the back of the mechanical bull. a minute passes, then thirty more seconds, hell you are nearly at two minutes by the time your arms give up and you allow yourself to fall from the machine. all you can hear are the roars of the town's people celebrating around you.

/ cowboy! hanji whose screams are louder than anyone else's as they celebrate your victory. they scoop you up in their arm, placing your ass on their shoulder as they continue to pump their hand in the air while the other holds you in place. they don't even notice, but they've been chanting the words "that's MY girl!" over and over and over again.

/ cowboy! hanji who finally places you down as the two of you begin to make your way back home, all your items already packed. as you stand at the edge of the festival, a few people still dancing around and eating, you stand in front of them, your eyes glistening under the hanging lights and the moon. with their free hand, hanji brushes a strand of hair behind your ear, their breath trembling slightly as they finally find the courage to ask "can i kiss you?"

/ cowboy! hanji whose cheeks turn bright red and their breathing hitches in their throat as you nod. their lips gently brushing above yours as you melt into their touch. it's a gentle kiss, the roughness of their hands on your waist contrasting directly with the softness of their lips, the taste of the candy apple the two of you shared earlier in the evening still present in their tongue as it wraps around yours. you can't help but hum against their mouth, your hands gently cupping their cheeks as you carefully nibble at their lower lip.

/ cowboy! hanji whose heart has connected with yours the minute they saw you for the first time. their forehead touching yours as the two of you stand in a comfortable silence for a little while, it doesn't last long. the two of you stare at each other for a few seconds before running off towards the nearest trash cans. the combination between the excitement of the kiss, the mechanical bull ride and all the junk food finally catching up to the two of you.

/ cowboy! hanji who holds your hand as the two of you get sick together in the trash cans behind city hall.

[jensettermandu]

maneater - lalisa manoban

genre; smut

pairing; g!p lisa x female reader

content; fingering, slight edging, semi public (they have sex in a public bathroom), p in v :D, idk i don't think i missed anything

wc; 6.7k+

masterlist

Expensive cars, luxury brands, trips worldwide, houses on every continent, and events for the elites. 

These were just some of the things in Lisa’s life. 

A long line of generational wealth. 

Sitting at a charity dinner wasn’t unusual for her despite only being 23. She was next in line to take over her family business once she would be suitable enough to do so. Those were years yet to come–five maybe seven before she would get to even touch that power. 

Of course, it all came with rival companies worth multiple billions who would always stand in the way, steal deals, and be competitive.

The ballroom was filled with chatter as everyone conversed and even if it was charity, for most it was just a chance for new business. She wasn’t invited as a plus one anymore but got her invites because her name would be important in the future. That was why she was sitting at another table, far from her father. 

Eight different people sat at the round table. 

There were so many different tables and close to 300 people at the charity. 

Out of all the seven different people she could have been seated with, right beside her was the 21-year-old Zhou Y/n who came from an even bigger line of generational wealth after being part of an old Chinese dynasty. 

The only heir of one of the biggest oil companies from a conservative family from China. 

Conservative media-wise until Y/n came along. 

The last headline Lisa could remember was the girl getting a DUI and she knew that there was so much more but her family covered every little trace, but driving a car into a pole right before the media would be hard to cover. 

Where Y/n went chaos followed.

What Lisa couldn’t phantom was how someone like her was set to start working by her father’s side in just four more years. Takeover in a couple more. Quicker than Lisa.

Smart. Y/n was incredibly smart despite everything else. 

She somehow balanced chaos and intelligence. 

Aside from that the girl was the daughter of Lisa’s father’s biggest competitor, arch-rival at this point as there was nothing but bad blood which automatically put a wall between her and Y/n. 

She hated the entitled and spoiled brat beside her, she was born to hate her and she would do so to carry on the legacy of hate as Y/n hated her just as much.

The only difference was that Y/n had a different approach to hatred. 

She made sure to make Lisa’s life miserable every time she had the chance while Lisa tried to hate her from her corner and not cause any trouble. 

It wasn’t like they saw each other often. 

Y/n was studying in a different state.

She knew these things because she simply did, it wasn’t like Y/n had somehow caught Lisa’s interest after she grew some boobs. Definitely not. 

Lisa had tried to keep her conversations going with the other five people at the table because the sixth was already being in Y/n’s trance which was Kim Jisoo. There didn’t seem to be a single person to fall for it.

Aside from that the rest of the table was filled with men and women in their early to late 40s.

However, she had found herself glancing over at the two girls now and then. Unfortunately for Lisa, the girl who smelled of sweet floral heaven beside her was sexy. Y/n was the definition of sex appeal. 

Everyone had something they liked, and Lisa liked women who were of the standard that Y/n was. Not many were but whatever was close enough. Now one that was of the highest standard was right beside her. One that was off limits to her which only made it that much more cravable.

Her glances had been subtle, only pretending to look around to maybe catch the girl’s exposed clavicles in the black dress and some of the cleavage. Or she would fix her chair to try and catch her legs in the black sheer tights. The way she would flip her hair back gently and only expose herself more all while having a conversation with Kim Jisoo who was just as lost in Y/n as Lisa was. 

Y/n was a big and seductive flirt is what Lisa had caught on to. 

She always led men and sometimes women on at these parties for fun. 

She had seen it herself and she had run into these victims who would ask Lisa if she had seen the girl who she would prior see leave the place with that resting bitch face.

Lisa had never fallen victim to Y/n’s misleading that she did for entertainment. These events could get boring at times. 

Although, she wasn’t sure if she wanted to fall victim either. 

Whatever subtle glances Lisa had thought she had gotten away with had all been obvious to the soul-sucking vampire beside her as she left everyone heartbroken with her games. 

Lisa jumped in her seat, getting startled in the middle of her conversation with the woman who was sitting on her left. She quickly put down the glass with champagne to not spill anything on her clothes after whatever brushed along her leg had made her flinch at how sudden it was. 

“I’m sorry, what was it that you said?” She apologised to the woman and leaned somewhat closer to hear her better, trying to play it off as if she hadn’t heard her. Lisa continued to listen to the woman, brushing it off as an accident despite the only possible culprit being the woman who had a husband beside her or the siren on her right. 

Whoever it was it had to be an accident–

Just a few seconds after she felt it right again but it startled her less. Lisa cleared her throat and leaned back in her chair, nodding to what the woman had said. She subtly glanced under the table and it had to be Y/n who was sitting with her right leg crossed over her left. 

Accident.

When she looked over at Y/n she was showing off that perfect smile to the man who sat across from her and Jisoo. 

She let out a sigh and reached for her champagne glass. It would get overwhelming way too quickly otherwise. The woman would have been able to take that sip of expensive bubbles if it hadn’t been for the foot that ran right up her shin and she forcefully gulped it down. The thin glass almost slipped from her hold and she placed it right back down. 

Just as Lisa turned to not glance at the entitled girl but actually look at her, the woman felt a heat run over her spine in the worst way possible considering this was Y/n. She did not need these reactions because of her.

“I’m so sorry–” Y/n apologised, her body was now turned to Lisa who widened her eyes as the vixen had placed her slender hand right on Lisa’s thigh to show her concern. “It’s just so tight here and I tried to make myself more comfortable, didn’t mean to startle you, Lisa.” Lisa clenched her jaw at the teasing in Y/n’s tone as the girl’s eyes were playing an innocent and apologetic look which was far from what her lips were releasing. 

Lisa huffed from her nose, nostrils flaring as the hand clasped on her thigh was warm and firm with the grip. “It’s fine.” Y/n gave her a smile at that, Lisa’s whole body tensing up at the squeeze she gave her before she let go. Her eyes watched Y/n for a few more seconds, seeing that glint in her eyes and smile that meant no good. 

“Mrs. Park, I have no idea how I missed you,” Y/n exclaimed and Lisa leaned back into her chair. The scent of the vixen was strong and it was running ideas in Lisa’s head from the sexual appeal it drove further. She was invading Lisa’s space on purpose, her hand holding onto the back of the woman’s chair, her modest chest just a mere inch from touching Lisa’s arm.

It left her trapped. 

“Oh God no, me and Chaeyoung have been studying day and night.” Lisa scoffed under her breath at the words she knew were lies. Her guy and girlfriends were obsessed with observing what the elite beside her was up to. It all included wild parties with booze that could fill pools. Her little group of friends were all taking part in it so Chaeyoung wasn’t studying day and night. 

Y/n hummed to what Mrs Park said while Lisa toyed with the knife on the table to not interrupt them by trying to talk with someone else. “Is that so?” Y/n questioned and Lisa was dying in her chair at the hand that moved from the backrest of the chair and onto her shoulder, the foot right back to brushing against her leg–it wasn’t even slightly subtle the way it went higher and higher up, dragging up her slacks before letting them fall back down. 

Lisa was trying to find a reason to excuse herself as she was starting to get overwhelmed by Y/n. All while trying not to do any abrupt movements. The girl was all over her and out of all the times now was the time she had no control over her cock that was starting to react to someone she despised. She cursed Y/n for her good genes. 

Her eyes trailed along her bare skin, hair in waves and falling over her shoulders, but Y/n moved it with her other hand. All that hair went from her left side and onto the right, it only showed off her smooth and slim body more to Lisa. The dress was accentuating her small chest, pushing her breasts together and Lisa moved her brown eyes up at her sharp collarbones, a diamond pendant resting between them. Her neck was slim and perfect and Lisa was growing harder the longer she looked at Y/n. 

“Oh this, ring?” There was a drop of mischievousness in her tone.

Lisa found out why it was there right away. 

Y/n’s hand ran down her shoulder and along her arm, until her left hand was planted right by her crotch, thumb merely brushing over the forming bulge as she leaned forward and stretched out her right hand that Mrs Park grabbed to look at the diamond ring. 

“Daddy bought it for my 21st birthday.” She happily replied, adding more pressure on Lisa’s thigh who was growing into a mess. 

“Excuse me.” Lisa excused herself, the chair dragged along the flooring louder than necessary and Y/n sat right back when she broke the contact between her and Mrs Park. Ultimately removing Y/n from herself before she disappeared. The girl excused herself from her conversation with the older woman before she looked at the one beside her.

“See, it doesn’t matter if they hate me, Jisoo…No one can resist my appeal.” Y/n said with a giggle and bit her lower lip as she looked back at Jisoo. “I won the bet, so…The number please.” The girl took her designer clutch purse and reached for her phone while Jisoo clicked her tongue.

“Do I have to give it to you?” Jisoo asked to make sure as the bet was her cousin’s number and the last thing she wanted was for Y/n to seduce poor Jennie too. 

“A deal is a deal.” She handed over her phone and leaned back into her seat before looking over her shoulder where Lisa had disappeared. Winning the bet she had made with the girl beside her. 

“I thought Lisa would be better than this.” Jisoo sighed and handed the girl her phone back, only hoping that Jennie wouldn’t be as stupid as Lisa and she had been. 

The bet?

Seduce Lisa and get Jennie’s number. 

Don’t succeed within five minutes, Jisoo gets Y/n’s number. 

God, Jisoo was pissed that she had to give her cousin's number to Y/n when she wanted it. She thought it would be an easy bet to win as she knew about the rivalry between the two families and how that created a feud between the heirs. It didn’t seem to matter as Y/n could get anyone to crumble before her. 

She watched Y/n who put the phone away and gently slid her chair back before excusing herself to leave as she stood up. “Where’re you going?” Jisoo asked and grabbed hold of her wrist. Not wanting the girl to leave her company.

Y/n gave her a little smile. “Finish what I started?” She said and Jisoo gave her a look. 

“What? She’s hot compared to the rest. Don’t be jealous.” Y/n defended and slipped out of Jisoo’s grip as she usually just left everyone right after, but Lisa was hot even if they were meant to despise each other. 

Jisoo sighed and leaned back in her seat as she watched Y/n walk away, realising that she had been played with just as much as Lisa tonight. The only difference was that Lisa got lucky this time and Jisoo didn’t.

Lisa unlocked the door after spending a good minute trying to tuck her erection right to hide it. She was both pissed at herself and even more pissed at Y/n while trying to grasp how she let the girl affect her. It just so happened that the girl she despised was utterly attractive. 

The woman pushed the door open while finishing to buckle her belt, but looked up at the voice.

“Everything alright, Lisa?” The voice came out angelic, with so much worry, concern, and innocence that Lisa would have almost believed it if it hadn’t been for the person behind that voice. Her eyes landed on Y/n who was sitting on top of the marble counter, one leg crossed over the other while leaning back against her palms. She did not look concerned, worried, innocent or angelic. 

She looked like the sexy she-devil herself.

“Why wouldn’t it be?” She tried to play it off because her ego was too big to feed into Y/n’s and admit that she had caused her an erection. Never. The woman could feel the siren eyes following her as she walked over to the black marble countertop and turned on the faucet to wash her hands. 

“Are you sure? You just ran off all flustered.” She hummed at that, keeping her gaze on her hands and avoiding looking at Y/n at all costs. 

Y/n watched how Lisa swallowed, her eyes trailing further down where she had done a poor job hiding her erection. With her lower lip trapped between her teeth, she leaned forward, gripping the edge of the countertop with her hands before letting go with one and reaching over to Lisa.

“Do you hate me, Lisa?” She mumbled, fingers dancing around Lisa’s shoulder who stopped washing her hands. She raised an eyebrow and looked at Y/n who was already looking back at her, grey eyes staring deep into hers, hypnotising her, distracting her fully from the haughty little smirk she was sporting. 

“What’s there to like?” Lisa asked back with a scoff, unflatteringly drying her hands on her slacks. Her eyes were hard yet still exploring whatever she could with them as Y/n was extremely close now.  

“There’s only so little you can see, but so much more to explore.” The words caught her off guard and she grabbed hold of the wandering hand that was running down her bicep. Lisa dropped Y/n’s slender hand and licked her lips as they stood in the empty restroom that was lit by a golden-like yellow, with black marble, accentuated by gold. Their bodies reflected in the big mirror that was on the wall and a second-long silence fell upon them. Lisa's dick twitched at those stupid words she was falling for because there was no way Y/n was offering herself to her. She probably wanted to make a fool out of Lisa for even thinking about it.

“I’m not falling for your games, Y/n.” Y/n smiled at that with a hum and Lisa took it as her queue to leave. 

She was stopped though, her eyes snapped up at Y/n with confusion. The girl stretched her long leg out and blocked the way. It sent a shiver over her whole body when her calf brushed over her hard cock and she stepped back when Y/n pushed more into it.

“Help me down? Wouldn’t want to break a heel.” With a deep inhale Lisa decided to assist the girl after she pointed with her head towards the black heels she had on. Her lips were pursed and she looked in the mirror behind Y/n instead while she gripped her waist and the girl held onto the lapels of her blazer. She was light as a feather as Lisa lifted the slim figure off of the counter.

Y/n giggled as she purposely lost balance and her hands grabbed hold of the hem of Lisa’s pants. Her body pressed into Lisa’s who strained a groan when her dick got rubbed at by accident and she angrily looked down at Y/n who looked as amused as ever. 

“Y/n.” She warned and pushed the girl up by her waist who was taller than her with heels on and without them she was just an inch taller. 

“Yes?” The vixen questioned, fingers teasing and hooking around the hem of Lisa’s pants. Looking at her through her lashes and still sporting that faux innocence that always got her out of trouble. The poor girl could cause no harm, could she? Not when she was playing a kitten that was kicked to the curb and standing in the pouring rain.

“Stop.” Lisa would only give her one last warning and then she knew that she would snap because of how sexually frustrated she was. 

“Or what?” Y/n challenged. 

“Or you will regret it.” She earned a breathless chuckle that fell from Y/n’s plump and glossy lips.

“I don’t think I will.” There was that deeper tone back, the one that was like a melody of sex and drew Lisa in further. Y/n’s normal voice and not the sweet one she did to play along in her games. That innocence washed away and everything Lisa should repent when it came to Y/n coming to light. Things that made her cock strain.

Lisa almost got lightheaded when a sneaky hand cupped her, squeezing at her erection enough to elicit a moan from the back of her throat. 

Y/n feigned a gasp, knowing very well what was coming when she got pinned against the counter. Her hands gripped Lisa’s blazer and she pulled her even closer to her while the older woman grabbed hold of her hips. Lisa’s eyes were hard on her as she stood pressed against the girl, staring her down while watching the way Y/n bit her lower lip to try and contain the haughty smirk that still broke out on her plump and glossy lips. 

“Do you always get what you want?” Lisa questioned, watching how Y/n ran her one hand down along her upper body, and down her stomach. The touch was slowly sending Lisa into a frenzy as she couldn’t deny the fact that Y/n was gorgeous and that many would pay to even be in this place that Lisa was, if not kill for it. 

This was the daughter of the elite of elites which meant that she stood above all too. 

“I’m daddy’s girl so yes.” 

And Y/n got what she wanted once again when she cupped Lisa through her pants, the woman groaning and muffling it by pressing her lips against Y/n’s. The older used her strength to raise Y/n back onto the counter, making her wrap her legs around Lisa’s waist and pulling her into her. Her grip tightened on Y/n’s slim waist while her other hand tangled in the silky hair at the back of the girl’s head, tilting her head and pushing her tongue between Y/n’s parted lips. 

The girl welcomed her into her mouth, swallowing Lisa’s tongue and sucking on it while her hands tugged onto the belt, blindly trying to unbuckle it. 

“God, you’re so eager,” Lisa grumbled after slowly pulling away with Y/n’s bottom lips between hers as she tugged on it before letting go. 

“I don’t have the whole night to waste on you.” Lisa could strangle the girl who knew how highly she stood above all. Lisa would always be a waste of time unless she would show her that she wasn’t. She was sure the girl had had her fair share of fun and that it would be hard to be the best, but Lisa always liked to prove herself. Her lips trailed Y/n’s smooth skin who tilted her head back, leaving her slim neck to be kissed along. 

“Waste?” Lisa questioned. Her words were a whisper in Y/n’s ear as she was right by her pulse point. Her tongue came out and the belt was undone, licking at the skin, being able to feel it pulse against her slick muscle before she wrapped her lips around the skin. It elicited a light sigh from Y/n who unzipped Lisa’s pants after undoing the button on them. 

“Unless you manage to impress me.” Y/n teased, teeth tugging Lisa’s ear who shivered at the gesture. Her hand came down from the back of her head to the back of her neck and she pulled Y/n away, making her look her in the eye. “Pretty eyes won’t work on me though.” Y/n continued, hand coming up to cup Lisa’s face, thumb running over her wet lips and tugging it down as she pulled her face closer to her. The two were a few mere inches away.

Anyone walking in and they both would be in trouble. 

Lisa would be in deep mud and her father’s business included if Y/n’s father found out that Lalisa Manoban had touched his princess. That the daughter of his biggest rival had touched his daughter. Lalisa Manoban would be dickless for the rest of her life. 

Too bad his daughter never followed the rules and was spoiled rotten.

Her thumb ran down to the woman’s chin and Lisa attached her lips right back onto Y/n’s. With that, her hands ran to the hem of the dress and she started to pull it up, bunching up its expensive material at the girl’s waist. Y/n’s fingers fiddled with the hem of the briefs, slowly inching inside them until her slender fingers wrapped around Lisa’s scalding cock that was warm and heavy in her hand. 

The small whimpers were muffled by Y/n’s mouth as the girl squeezed the length in her hand, stroking up and gathering precum that she smeared down the hard cock. It was followed by two thuds as she slipped off the designer heels to get off the sheer tights–Lisa had other plans. The material ripped when Lisa ran her hands between the girl’s thighs, tearing the thin black material apart.

“Not impressive,” Y/n mumbled as she pulled away from Lisa’s lips, the woman trying to chase for them but stopping at the way her tip got squeezed. The girl caught the way her eyelids almost fell closed and a moan pushed from the back of her throat. 

“Not everyone is here to please you.” Lisa rasped, gripping Y/n’s thigh and squeezing it in her hold while running the fingers of her other hand along the girl’s inner thigh. She could feel how she fought the way she wanted to close them at the teasing. It tugged at the corners of Lisa’s lips as the two stared at each other, Y/n slowly working the length in her hand while Lisa’s fingers brushed over the lace material. It worked a barely there sigh from the siren, Lisa being able to feel the slick slowly seep through the material of her underwear.

“Or maybe you just don’t know how to please me?” Y/n fueled a fire that grew in Lisa who slowly pushed the lace aside, her hips barely staying still as Y/n hadn’t stopped stroking her cock. The girl was making it hard for Lisa to stay nonchalant about this, making it hard to make it seem as if she wasn’t trying to impress her.

The girl caught how Lisa’s eyebrow twitched, fighting the dilemma she was in, but dismissed it for now. Her eyes focused on Y/n’s face when she ran her fingers through the girl's slit, parting her wet folds and smiling at the way her plump lips parted with a gasp. It made her hand movement stop as she removed her hand from Lisa’s briefs and grabbed hold of her forearm, the other clutched onto her shoulder.

The woman ran her slender fingers through the wet folds, slowly teasing the girl, wanting to put her through some suffering for what she had done. Lisa leaned in, pecking the parted lips, Y/n’s eyebrows creasing and her chest heaving at the way she was getting something, but not nearly enough. Lips pressed against hers, tracing to her cheek, and jaw before Lisa dipped her head and kissed along her neck all while taking in the small gasps that Y/n let out that were turning whiny.

“Fuck–” Y/n cursed, Lisa being stronger and not letting the girl guide her hand when she teased her two fingers over the swollen clit. She only nudged it and could feel nails dig into her forearm through the blazer. 

“What is it?” Lisa mocked, running her fingers down and circling the hole that was clenching as she gathered more of the slick. Y/n exhaled deeply through her nose and looked at Lisa who pulled away from her neck. There was a stupid smile on the woman’s lips, the younger unable to close her legs because Lisa was between them, the pressure growing and her clit only got circled again.

“Poor Y/n isn’t getting what she wants.” She said with a chuckle, hissing when the girl held onto the side of her neck and dug her nails into the skin. 

“Poor Lisa won’t get her dick wet if she doesn’t stop acting like an asshole.” 

Y/n was truly making it hard for Lisa to not obey her every word–

With a huff, Lisa dipped her hand down, two fingers intruding into the clenching hole and slowly pushing inside the heat that sucked her in and throbbed around her. 

Her eyes fell on the siren ones, it made her dick twitch at the look in her eyes, those parted lips glistening as each expression was so erotic that Lisa was ready to just pull her fingers out and replace them with her cock. Her fingers curled, being knuckles deep inside the girl’s pulsating cunt that tightened with each stroke and Y/n moaned as fingers pressed against the spongy spot.

“The daughter of an elite is having her pussy fingered in the middle of a charity event in a bathroom—You couldn’t get any hotter with how dirty you are.” Lisa caught Y/n’s lips right after, the kiss got sloppier as Y/n was doing a poor job of containing herself. Her moans bounced off the empty walls of the marble bathroom at the way Lisa was circling her clit with her thumb, rubbing against her wall and slowly the tension grew in her body. 

The girl was far from a saint, and Lisa was loving every second of it, especially since she was fucking thee Zhou Y/n. 

The squelching of her snug pussy mixed with her whimpering moans, Lisa doing scissoring motions to stretch and get her ready for her cock. “So good,” Y/n whined. She pulled away from Lisa’s mouth who licked her lips, collecting any saliva and getting another taste of what was left of the girl’s lip gloss. Her forehead fell on Lisa’s shoulder, scratching along her neck with each zap that ran across her spine and her hips merely bucked into the thumb that was playing with her aching nub. 

Lisa hummed at those words that were boosting her ego, but she wasn’t aware of the smile that tugged on Y/n’s lips. Her walls fluttered around the two fingers that were spreading her tight hole, caressing at her g-spot. Lisa looked in the mirror, mesmerised by the way Y/n’s back arched like a cat, her ridges perfect. 

“Shame that I’ve had better.” Y/n sighed, leaning into Lisa’s neck with her breath fanning the skin. She bit down and pulled, making Lisa groan at the pain as somewhere between the lines they still had to hate each other. “Fuck, you’re a bitch.” She sucked air through her teeth and grabbed Y/n’s shoulder, pulling her away from her neck. 

The girl let out a breathless giggle, the fingers still working her cunt and Lisa sped up her thrusts, watching the way it made Y/n’s press more into her.  The hand that gripped her forearm tightened around her and so did the walls as the girl let out whiny moans, being brought right to the edge with Lisa’s fingers deep within her walls.

“Oh–Oh fuck.” It started to wash over her, stomach tightening and Lisa slowed down her movement, removing some pressure from the girl’s clit. It made Y/n whine in frustration at the high that got disrupted, her snug walls now throbbing uncomfortably.

“You want to be a tease?” Y/n questioned, grabbing hold of Lisa’s blazer and pulling her into her, making Lisa stop fully. Her fingers pulled out of the snug confines of the slick pussy. The woman bit her lower lip, forehead pressed against Y/n’s while she ran the same hand down to her boxers.

“Who was teasing me under the table?” Lisa questioned, trying to catch Y/n’s lips again because they moved so smoothly against hers and the way the girl sucked on her tongue made her lightheaded. Y/n moved back though, leaving her to a chase that she lost when Y/n held her back. 

“I can’t help that everyone folds so easily for me, Lisa.” 

Y/n’s hand came over to Lisa’s helping her pull down the briefs as she closed the gap and caught Lisa’s upper lip between hers, having her lower one sucked by the older. It went smoothly as Lisa propped herself up by planting her palm against the mirror behind Y/n who led the swollen pinkish tip towards her sopping wet entrance. 

It made Lisa shudder and Y/n tugged on her lip at the stretch that came, thighs trying to close but were unable to with Lisa between them. 

“Can you take it all?” Lisa asked through a deep breath as she pushed her tip inside the walls that were squeezing hard enough to almost push her back out. The blazer bunched in Y/n’s fist by the woman’s frail shoulder and she wrapped her legs around Lisa’s waist.

“Don’t let it get into your head.” Y/n moaned at the way Lisa pushed everything in all at once at her answer. It shot a heat through her spine and she pulled her closer with her legs. The stretch came painfully yet it made her want more as Lisa slowly started to move her hips with a chuckle at the words. 

“Haven’t had anyone stretch you out good enough, fuck–I will make sure your pussy fits my cock perfectly.” Lisa groaned, wrapping her arm around the slim waist of the girl, holding her close and burying her face in the crook of her sweet neck as the scent drove that carnal desire further. 

Y/n’s moans grew louder within a few seconds as Lisa wasn’t waiting around. Her thrusts were slow and deep, going at a steady pace and the gasps were falling from Y/n’s lips. The girl’s back arched into her, pressing her chest against Lisa’s as her eyes closed. Each gasp and moan came right into Lisa’s ear. Grunts pushed through the back of her throat each time she fucked her cock right back into Y/n after pulling out as much as possible.

She rolled her hips in a perfect and hard rhythm, each time making the girl’s breath hitch. The walls were filled to the brim, her dick curved perfectly to rub at her g-spot and reach every single spot she needed to reach as her cock was stuffing Y/n perfectly. Lisa was losing her mind over how tight the girl was, fingertips pressing against the mirror as she groaned.

It was hard not to think about who exactly it was that Lisa was pounding her cock into. Y/n was moaning right under her, walls squeezing her cock, being able to feel the other throb with need after each stroke. The idea that this could end so badly drove Lisa even further, wanting to fuck Y/n good enough to want more of the thrill of fucking someone she shouldn’t.

“Fuck, Y/n, your pussy is so good, isn’t it—could fuck it right every day,” Lisa mumbled, her voice turning into a gruff one as she pulled away from the girl’s neck. 

“Have to make me come to fuck me again.” Y/n moaned out and it made Lisa run her hand away from her waist. Her fingers found back to the slick clit and Y/n leaned back, palms planted against the marble behind her. Her eyes were intense on Lisa’s who was still fucking her, each thrust making the girl move who unwrapped her legs and spread them further for the cock that was abusing her throbbing pussy. The eyes that looked in hers were in a full haze as Lisa was getting closer with each second.

“Gonna have you run back for more.” Lisa forced the word out with another grunt.

The eye contact broke as Y/n threw her head back, her back arched and heat covered her whole body. The cock inside her was throbbing, dragging along her snug walls, caressing them and the wetness was running down further with each of the thrusts.

Their moans grew louder, only hoping that no one would be heading towards the bathroom or walking past it as the event was in full force with the main part of it starting any second now. Yet it left them both curious about what would happen if someone did catch them. It only made them fuck that much better. The ruffling of their clothes mixed with the wet sounds of Y/n’s pussy and Lisa’s dick filling the clenching hole that was sucking her in. 

The woman leaned down, unable to keep herself away from the clavicle that was on full display for her and the little cleavage. Her lips wetly kissed along the skin, sucking gently to not leave any unwanted marks until she reached the soft cleavage of the girl. Gently she nipped at the skin, feeling the way it made Y/n squeeze her length and whine, her chest pressing more into Lisa’s face. 

“Close ‘m so close, Lisa.” Y/n cried, this time not wanting the high to end before it could peak. Lisa kept up the movement of her hips while sucking on the soft skin of Y/n’s chest. Probably leaving a hickey here and there after herself. 

“Fuck, come on squeeze my cock and come, Y/n.”

Her pussy clasped tightly around the hard cock, back arching and a train of moans slipping out of her mouth that grew in pitch. The tension grew hard enough to break and Y/n was right at the high before falling at such force that her eyes rolled back. Her thighs quivered around Lisa as they closed in on her again. She slowed down her movement, looking at Y/n who was heaving for air while coming undone before her.

Her stomach flexed to hold herself until Y/n gripped onto her to stop. The girl swallowed down her dry throat, whining at how Lisa was still fucking her through the uncomfortable aftershocks. 

“I’m gonna–” She was cut off, groaning when the girl pushed her back without a second thought. Her cock slipped out of the warmth of her and Lisa barely managed to grab hold of her dick before cum started to spurt out of her tip. Her hand balled into a fist as she planted it on the wall beside her after losing the leverage of the mirror. Y/n felt the warm cum splatter against her thigh, seeping through the sheer tights, staining more than them as Lisa had no aim whatsoever. 

“Great.” Y/n deadpanned, the woman was still lightheaded and trying to catch her breath when she got shoved back by the girl's foot against her thigh.

“What?” She breathed out, fingers gripping the wall to not fall as she looked down. The mess was on the girl’s black dress, covering the hem in her creamy and sticky cum–Lisa cringed at the amount she released, more than usual. It made her quickly tuck her cock back inside her pants, not having time to zip them up as she reached for the paper towels. The faucet turned on as she wet it before reaching over to the girl’s dress.

Y/n leaned back as she hadn’t been expecting it and rolled her eyes while waiting for Lisa to finish.

“Sorry.”

“Shut up,” Y/n said and clicked her tongue, looking at Lisa with a face that held disgust as she still didn’t like her despite the good orgasm she gave her. She pushed her back again and Lisa leaned against the wall while Y/n got down the counter to remove the sheer tights.

Lisa’s mind still trying to comprehend the fact that she had just fucked the girl everyone wanted to be or be with. She even ruined her dress. Lisa felt stupidly proud as she grinned.

Y/n discarded them in the trash and slipped her heels back on.

“You ruined my dress, time to cut the charity short so I can go home.” 

“What’re you doing?” She questioned the girl who walked over to the door and opened it. The big corridor was empty, but the loud chatter from the ballroom was still filling it as she followed right after Y/n who was looking through her clutch purse. Lisa’s eyes were glued to Y/n who was walking fine, more than fine as she looked like she was on a catwalk while Lisa’s legs felt numb. It made her lean against the door frame with a frown, unable to bring herself to walk much more just yet. Her hands quickly worked to button up her slacks before anyone would see her this messy.

Y/n turned to her with that devilish smile on her face as she stood by the wall opposite of Lisa.

Where Y/n went chaos followed. 

“It’s for a good cause, Lisa–here’s my card in case you ever need a job, I guess you could walk my dog or something.” Lisa’s eyes winded, a private business card being flicked at her chest before it fluttered onto the floor and she watched Y/n reach for the fire alarm. The blaring alarm went off, the chatter getting drowned out before it was followed by panicked voices, and fire sprinklers going off. Her eyes were on Y/n who was already walking away while Lisa subconsciously crouched down and reached for the card. People slowly starting to pile the corridor.

Lisa did text.

She just never got an answer.

[nockfellblues]

For the second ask- can I have a story of Junpei Yoshino being saved by the reader? Context: Reader is also a sorcerer and was with Itadori at the time of the encounter with Mahito.

Ngl it took me a bit to work out a good concept for this one- idk if its just cuz i never really toyed with making a jjk oc or if i was just having a brain fart lmao and then I started writing and it just kept going??? Either way, here it is! GN reader and can be read as platonic or as a crush if you squint. Again, thanks so much for requesting! I hope you like it! 💕

Warnings: Usual canon compliant violence, mentions of blood.

“Should we really be doing this?”

Yuji just shrugged with a smile, looking blissfully unaware as you both lounged about in none other than Junpei Yoshino’s house, waiting to start a film while the aforementioned boy grabbed some snacks from his kitchen. Behind you both his mother was blissfully unawares as she slept soundly at the kitchen table with a smile on her face. This was supposed to be an investigation into the troubled boy and the strange circumstances he’d found himself in the middle of, but had quickly turned into the three of you becoming fast friends. Before either you or Yuji knew it, you were sat at the dinner table in the Yoshino residence like you always belonged there.

You couldn’t deny how much you genuinely liked Junpei- he was quiet and reserved with a stalwart sense of justice, but listening to him talk about his favorite films seemed to bring out the absolute best in him and make his smile look so much more alive. It was like a little part of his soul bloomed into a bright glow of happiness and contentment. Something about someone talking about their passions always made them shine in a way that was so beautiful, and you couldn’t deny that his bloom was so very enticing. Of course it helped that you shared taste in movies and in music and that he was seemingly such a sweet boy…

Truly, becoming friends with him like this had been such a breath of fresh air in all of the insanity lately. You were so thankful to have met him, even if the circumstances were.. crazy.

When Nanami had brought you onto this particular investigation you were terrified. Being just a student, and just a first-year at that, you had zero concept of how your curse techniques would be even remotely useful. Especially when Nanami and Shoko showed you the horrific amalgamates this new curse was able to produce. After all, all you could do was alter the physical form of objects, not people; Changing a rock into a knife and imbuing it with cursed energy was a vast difference to changing the shape of a body part, or a whole person, much less their soul. But Gojo had put the idea into Shoko’s head that it was worth a shot to see if you could reach something tangible in the form of a human soul, and so you tried.

Touching the soul was… exhilarating. Being able to see the physical manifestation of a soul was so, so beautiful. But it was also terrifying- being the only hope for these.. people that the patchwork curse left behind. It was like falling into a litany of swirling emotions, memories, passions, and colours, everything that made a person who they are, and trying desperately to wrangle them into a shape that they remembered and holding them there until they understood that this was their true shape and began to.. ‘heal.’ So far the best result was separating their physical forms and returning them to ‘normal’- but, so far, not a single person had survived. They returned to ‘normal’ only to be completely comatose for varying periods of time before slowly fading and, eventually, passing.

“Think any harder and your brain will melt,” Yuji laughed, nudging you with an elbow. You returned his easy smile as Junpei came back with an overflowing bowl of popcorn and some drinks.

“Yum! Alright, let’s get this movie party started!”

—————

You could barely breathe, running as fast as your legs could take you towards the ominous shadowed dome of the veil that had opened over Satozakura High School- Junpei’s school. You had happened to be in the area doing some light shopping when it started- the wrong place at the right time, you supposed. Reaching your senses out you desperately searched for any anomalous energies, until Yuji’s burst of cursed energy lit up like a homing beacon.

“Please don’t let Junpei be here- Please.”

—————

“People don’t have hearts.” You could hear the tears in Junpei’s voice and you raced around the corner of the corridor. You found him kneeling amongst broken glass in the darkened hallway, Yuji standing before him looking angry and distraught.

“You’re still just trying-“

“Junpei, please-“

“They don’t!” Junpei’s voice was absolutely wrecked with what could only be grief as he cut you both off.

“Other wise…” Tears streamed down his face, his entire body shaking as you reached to place a gentle hand on his shoulder. “Otherwise- Then that could only mean that people cursed me and my mom with those hearts! That would just be.. Too much,” he sobbed and shook you hand off to stand.

You backed away as cursed energy gathered within him and made the outline of his soul shimmer a brilliant melancholy blue- when in the world had he come into being able to produce cursed energy?

“I wouldn’t even know what is right and what’s wrong any more!” In a flurry of iridescent blue, a billowing jellyfish shikigami appeared behind him, quickly taking aim and stabbing Yuji with its sharpened tentacles.

“Y-Yuji!” You covered your mouth in shock as he took slow steps towards Junpei leaving a dripping trail of blood behind.

“Why-why didn’t you dodge it?”

“I’m sorry. I said a lot of arrogant stuff without really understanding anything. So, tell me what happened to you.. and I swear to you, if you do, then I wont curse you anymore. Please.” Yuji kneeled before Junpei, his voice soft, and you approached again to return a hand to Junpei’s shoulder.

“We’re your friends, Junpei. So, please, let us help?” You gave his houlder a gentle squeeze as he met your gaze with wide tearful eyes- and the dam broke.

Junpei crumbled before you both, body wracked with heaving sobs as he told you about his mother- the horrifying discovery of her mutilated body and another of those damn fingers of Sukuna’s just left there out in the open. Yuji took his hands in his own and you wrapped your arms over Junpei’s shoulders, letting him cry as you both fought back our own emotions at the news.

“I’m so sorry Junpei..” You gently rubbed his back as Yuji took a moment to process what you’d learned.

“Junpei… join Jujutsu high- You’d like it! There are lots of crazy strong teachers and good, reliable friends there. If we all work together, I guarantee you, we can find whoever it was that cursed your mom… then you can make them pay for what they did!” Yuji’s determination had Junpei’s tears start anew, and you nodded along with him.

“It’s true, Junpei. You’d never be alone, and we’d all do our very best to help you!” Yuji nodded in turn and you moved to hold his shoulders to properly look into his eyes. “Trust us again, Junpei. I swear, we’ll do whatever we can to make this right.”

“That’s a big promise coming from such a weak sorcerer.” At the top of the stair stood a man with silver hair and…a patchwork face. His body seemed to radiate the same shimmer you now equated with the visual manifestation of a soul, but so, so much brighter than you’d ever seen one. It seemed to ripple and move, like it was made of water, as though it didnt know enough to stay in one shape. What is he?

“Who are you?”

“It’s nice to meet you, vessel of Sukuna.”

The three of you stood and you deepened your stance to something more solid and defensive as it all clicked, “Yuji that’s him-!”

“Mahito, don’t do it!”

The Patchwork curse’s arm and shoulder alike began to curn like bubbling water, rapidly morphing as it shot out to slam Yuji into the adjacent wall- a second appendage morphed out of the side and swing too fast, swiping you away and tossing you down the hall like you weighed nothing. You flew until you hit the wall at the the end with a sickening crack. Groaning as you slid to the floor you were distantly aware of Yuji yelling, or saying something, but everything was violently tilting and fading into grey, your ears ringing like crazy and you could feel warm blood drip down your forehead and over your brow. Get up, they need you now!

There was a pulse of that same too-bright glimmer as the patchwork curse did something you couldn’t see and Yuji was yelling again, the tone now distinctly distraught as he yelled for you, then for Junpei. Blinking slowly, you’re positive you blacked out for a moment. You woke again to Yuji begging Sukuna for help while that awful patchwork curse giggled like a child. Dammit, get up! Get up!

Struggling to your feet the world swayed dangerously for a moment before snapping into focus on distinct blue shimmer of Junpei’s soul- now distorted and morphed into.. some.. thing that was collapsed at Yuji’s feet. The curse continued to laugh wildly and Yuji’s soul bloomed into a wild cacophony of bright white noise that was nearly blinding- and then he swung.

Fist meeting the patchwork thing’s face, you could see their souls touch in a way you’d never seen before- and the patchwork curse’s soul seemed to… crack? It was so small and barely there, but it had cracked! Had Yuji really hurt it?

You stumbled towards the thing that was somehow still Junpei, his soul twisted and tangled into some little blue monster that was nearly unrecognizable. The curse was goading Yuji into more of a fight and you could feel their souls and cursed energy bloom yet again as they moved their fight up the flight of stair behind them. Good, that gave you time.

“J-Junpei!” You dropped to his side, the wavering glimmer of his soul now so dim it was almost faded to grey in places. If you were going to help him, it needed to be now. But… You’d never touched a soul so newly wrecked- would it make a difference? Would it hurt him to try when he was so weak? There was no do-over with this, and if you fucked up he would die.

“I… I can do this. Please Junpei, please don’t die on me!” Placing your hands over the center of his mass, where is soul seemed strongest, you pulled at your own cursed energy. Reaching into him you were submerged in a vast, cold ocean of darkness. All you could feel was desolation- the frigid grasp of grief and sorrow as you tried to pull as much of his soul together that you could reach. It was like trying to grab bubbles of shimmering water, Junpei’s soul trying its best to separate and float away.

“Not today- You’re coming back with me, dammit! I’m not giving up on you, so don’t you give up on me, Junpei!”

Pushing the last drifting bubble of his soul in with the rest you could feel your own soul stretch thin trying to compress the pieces into the familiar form of your friend and holding it there-

This has to work. Please! The dark around you seemed to grow brighter and brighter until it was a blindingly bright sky blue as the pressure on your soul seemed to pulse- then something within your souls seemed to snap and everything went black.

—————

“Stop fidgeting, you look great!”

“S-sorry!” Junpei’s face was flushed in embarrassment at your praise as he tugged at the collar to his freshly finished Jujutsu High uniform.

Today was the day you finally got to introduce him to the other first year students and he was a bit of a nervous wreck. You gently swatted his hands away and adjusted the buttons on his collar one final time, returning his nervous look with a reassuring smile.

“You’re sure everyone will be.. cool with this?”

“Absolutely, silly. The others are super cool, and they’re all total weirdos, just like us! That’s why we all fit in so well!”

In hindsight that might have been a little rude to say about your friends but it made Junpei laugh, the first real laugh you’d gotten out of him since everything went to hell.

So it was totally worth it.

Ahhh okay this was so much longer than I intended it idk i kinda Ike it! Junpei deserved better 😤

[gldrushh]

SUGAR AND SIN | JK FANFICTION

→ TEASER

synopsis: Aurora Beckett is as sweet as the cupcakes she makes and as bright as the morning sun that fills her bakery, the first thing in the morning. With a knack of making friends every chance she gets and putting them before her, she finds herself in trouble more than a friendly neighborhood baker should. Yet this time, the trouble came barging itself. Jeon Jungkook- the shadow syndic, a name whispered through the darkest corners of South Korea, feared like the devil himself. Certain circumstances lead him to her, and the next thing he knows, 5'4 "inches of pure headache is his self-proclaimed partner in crime. But when annoyance starts to twist into a need for the girl, who's everything he's not, he realizes that she is the one who's trouble.

🧁✧ ˚. TITLE: Sugar and Sin.

🧁✧ ˚. PAIRING: Mafia boss! Jungkook × female oc

🧁✧ ˚. GENRE: Mafia au, grumpy × sunshine, forced proximity, slow burn, dark romance, crime/ thriller.

🧁✧ ˚. WARNINGS: violent acts - including murder, physical confrontations, and threats of harm. Dark Themes – Themes of crime such as kindapping and human trafficking, power dynamics, moral ambiguity, mature language, characters experiencing physical and emotional abuse. Please continue with caution.

🧁✧ ˚. TAGS: Mafia boss Jungkook, peirced and tattooed jungkook, he is also a meanie, sociopath Jungkook, jungkook with a gun, RICH man, he kills people for a living or maybe for vengeance, oc and Jk both struggle from a traumatic past, oc is a cat person, oc is an extorvert, people pleaser oc, she is sick and tired of bills, oc is a daddys girl, oc may or may not have a tiny crush on the mafia boss, she is also a little reckless, sloooooooow burn, yearning and pining, a great amount of both from Jungkook's side until he eventually admits it and becomes a simp (he will be downnn horrendously bad), he fucks up at some point, angst angst and angst, but also angst with happy ending? eventual fluff after a longgg wait but it's tooth rotting so maybe it's worth it, eventual smut (maybe Idk man), protective Jungkook, he will die and kill for his people, possessive Jungkook, obsessive too, he is also kind of pathetic but his aura goes insane, oh and he also wears gloves 24/7

A/N: woah maybe this sounds kind of cliché but writing this brings me great joy and I hope you feel just the same if you choose to read it. This is my first time posting a silly work of mine to a public platform and I'm not really hoping for something big but genuine readers and friends I plan to make along the way. Thank you if you're reading this. I hope my words can be worth your time.

Also If you wanna get ahead, I have already posted 9 parts of this on my wattpad.

Thank you again. I will be starting to post here soon.

He was here.

In her goddamn living room, sitting on her couch like he owned the place.

The realization hit her slowly, like the creeping cold of winter sneaking under the door. She hadn’t heard him come in. She hadn’t seen him approach. But there he was, every inch of him radiating danger.

He was here to fulfill the promise of something dangerous.

He was here for her.

She didn't need to look through her memories of last night to recognize him. The inky voids that were placed where eyes normally are were proof enough, and so was the horrifying calmness he carried with himself surrounding the small space of her apartment.

Her lips parted, her breath shortened and her unblinking eyes went all over him, his gloved hands that were skilled for taking lives-she was sure of it- resting flatly on his broad, muscled thigh clothed with the black of his pants, his shirt of a softer fabric soft yet unyielding, strained against the hard planes of his chest. The tailored suit jacket stretched over biceps that seemed too solid, too real, for this moment to be anything but a nightmare and there was the face she hadn't properly grasped in the chaos of last night, now all sharp lines, cool beauty, and unsettling stillness.

Maybe the devil wasn't a short red man with thorns and tail at all. Maybe he wore tailored suits and silver piercings.

"Breathe. And sit down."

[bedoballoons]

HIII haven’t seen me in awhile, I had to get surgery doneeeeee. But I just saw the new mitsuri heandcannons and 👌🤩 beautiful.

well 8 have a new request, can you do when mitsuri shows off her INHUMAN strength? Also just to clarify, mitsuri does not gain much s weight at all because it mostly gets turned into protein cells….?… idk I forgot but she is just insecure because of what others might think of her.

SPOILERS: so mitsuri has the strength/ if not more than I a demon from that Uni. So her strength is about more than human. For me I think still lower of an adeptis but still INCREDIBLY strong for a human. Cuz during the final battle she rips off the arm of Muzan, the demon king which I think is almost/same strength of an adeptis???… idk

Hello!!! Welcome back! I hope you're doing well after your surgery and making sure to rest! Im sorry it's taken me awhile to get to your request but I will do my best to make it worth the wait!

P.s You didn't mention which characters you wanted to I just went with the characters that were in the past one! Hope that's alright <3

─⊰⁠⊹ฺ🍂𝔾𝕖𝕟𝕤𝕙𝕚𝕟 ℍ𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕔𝕒𝕟𝕠𝕟𝕤⊰⁠⊹ฺ🍂

{༻~Mitsuri strengths~༺}

CW: Fluffy! Slight fighting mentioned! Reader is described as very strong! Established relationships with the characters!

Also in case you'd like to read my other demon slayer works they are all tagged in the linked post:

Here for more!

(Includes: Diluc, Lyney, Albedo, and Wanderer!)

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

𑁍༄Diluc:

"Watch out they are-" Dilucs words of warning would ring in your ear for only a second before the lawlchurl dashed at you, anyone else would have screamed in terror, maybe ran, but you stood still, taking the beast by the horns the second it got close enough. The giant thing was no match for you and within seconds you'd taken it down, standing ontop of it victoriously while your boyfriend stared at you in disbelief.

"Diluc-"

"You're beyond even my wildest dreams...I love you."

𑁍༄Lyney:

"Oh my..."

Lyney was in a trance...with his heart beating heavily in his chest and his head spinning with a type of yearning only you gave him. How had he never seen you in combat...

"Lyney are you alright? Did you get hurt?"

"No...I am just going to stand here for a moment longer and try to calm myself after that...truly enticing battle."

"Enticing?"

"My love, you have got me wrapped around your finger more than you realize..."

𑁍༄Albedo:

"Incredible."

You turned to face Albedo, wondering if he'd been hit over the head when you weren't looking, but to your surprise...he had a soft blush on his cheeks and a almost dazed with love expression, "Uh...you okay?"

"Yes, my apologies I just...you're so strong. I just witnessed you taking out a rather large group of monsters with no trouble at all and I must say, it's left me feeling a bit flustered...I'm in awe of you."

𑁍༄Wanderer:

"Just let me handle it!" Wanderer jumped in front of you, prepared to take out anyone who attempted to hurt you...ready to protect you till the end.

"You don't need to."

"What the hell are you talki-"

You maneuvered around him, using your strength to best your opponents one by one, leaving none able to do anything but run away begging for mercy. It was easy for you, unnatural for a normal woman...but Wanderer seemed more pleased than unhappy with it...even a little blushed.

"You...when did you get so strong hmph...next time I'm gonna stand behind you instead."

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

ଘ(੭*ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ♡‧₊˚~Have a nice day~*⁠.⁠✧

[dalilacherie]

hiiiiii idk if ur still taking requests but if u are could u pls write a dally x male reader where the readers a curtis and dally and reader have been together for like a while but then somehow darry catches them together and so now they are dealing with the fallout of all that (i am so so sorry if that made no sense 😭)

𝐈𝐭'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭 𝐋𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐭

[𝐃𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐬 𝐖𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐧 𝐱 𝐌𝐚𝐥𝐞!𝐂𝐮𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐬!𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫]

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞: So uh... I'm alive!! 🥳 I have nothing to say for myself except that I'm lazy💀 anyways enjoy this story.

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: idk- more than 1,000

I’m sittin’ on the old couch in the Curtis livin’ room, feet up on the coffee table, cigarette danglin’ between my lips. It’s quiet. The kind of quiet you don’t get too often around here. The boys are all out. Two-Bit, Johnny, and Pony are at the movies, and Darry, Steve, and Soda are at work. That just leaves me and Y/N.

"Don’t ya get bored when it’s this quiet?" Y/N asked, lookin' at me with those eyes of his that I never could resist. He always had a way of seein' right through me, even when I was tryin' to act tough.

I shrugged. "Nah, quiet’s good sometimes. Can think better without all that noise. Don’t you like it?"

He smiled, that small, easy smile he had that could make me feel like maybe not everything in this world was as screwed up as it seemed. "Yeah, I like it. It’s nice just bein' with you."

I didn’t say nothin' to that. I wasn’t good at the mushy stuff, never was. I’d rather just show him what I felt, not say it. So I reached over and ruffled his hair, messin' it up like I knew he hated, just to see him annoyed. He swatted my hand away, but he was grinnin'.

"Quit it, Dal. I just fixed it."

"Too bad," I said, leanin' back into the couch, stretchin' my legs out. "You look better with it all messed up, anyway.”

I glance over at him, sittin’ close by, almost leanin’ into me. He’s been my guy for a while now, not that we make a big show of it or nothin’. He’s just always been there, and I guess I’ve always been here too, though I ain’t one to stick around for much.

“Whatcha thinkin’ ‘bout?” I ask, flickin’ some ash into the ashtray. It’s one of those moments where I ain’t thinkin’ too much about what’s out there—what kinda trouble I could be gettin’ into. ‘Cause right now, I got what I need right here.

He shrugs a bit, like he does when he ain’t sure what to say. “Nothin’ much. Just… you.”

I smirk at that, pullin’ the cigarette from my mouth and blowin’ the smoke up toward the ceilin’. “Yeah? What ‘bout me?”

He turns his head, lookin’ me dead in the eyes. He’s always had this way of lookin’ at me, like he’s seein’ somethin’ more than just a no-good hood. Maybe he is, I dunno.

“I dunno,” he says, leanin’ back a little. “Just… how you’re always here, even when you say you’re not gonna be.”

“Guess I ain’t as bad as I like to think I am,” I mutter, leanin’ back against the cushions. I’m still gettin’ used to this whole thing, bein’ with someone who actually gives a damn. Most folks don’t. And hell, I’m used to it. Grew up that way, always lookin’ out for myself, ‘cause who else was gonna do it? But Y/N, he’s different. He makes me feel like maybe there’s somethin’ more out there than just fights and booze and dodgin’ the fuzz.

He shifts a bit closer, till his shoulder’s brushin’ against mine. He’s warm, real warm, and it’s kinda nice just sittin’ here with him, not havin’ to say nothin’ or do nothin’ to prove myself.

“Ya know,” I say, my voice a little quieter, “I ain’t used to this. Just sittin’ around, not doin’ nothin’. It’s kinda nice, though.”

He smiles, that soft, easy smile he’s always got, and it makes me feel somethin’ weird, like maybe I’m worth somethin’ more than just a cheap thrill or a quick fight. “Yeah, it is,” he agrees, settlin’ in closer, his head restin’ on my shoulder. “We don’t get much time like this.”

“Nah, we don’t,” I say, takin’ another drag off my cigarette before snuffin’ it out in the ashtray. I’m quiet for a minute, just listenin’ to him breathin’, the way his chest rises and falls against mine.

“I like bein’ with you, Y/N,” I say, the words comin’ out rougher than I meant ‘em to. I ain’t good at sayin’ stuff like this, but he deserves to hear it.

He looks up at me, those eyes of his all soft and understandin’. “I like bein’ with you too, Dal,” he says, reachin’ up to brush a hand through my hair, somethin’ he does when he thinks I’m not payin’ attention. But I always notice, even if I don’t say nothin’. “Payback” as he calls it.

“Yeah?” I say, leanin’ into his touch, feelin’ more relaxed than I have in a long time. “Glad to hear it, ‘cause I don’t plan on goin’ nowhere.”

He chuckles a bit, the sound low and warm, and it makes me feel somethin’ in my chest, somethin’ I don’t feel too often. “I didn’t think you would,” he says, settlin’ against me.

We sit there like that for a while, just enjoyin’ the quiet, enjoyin’ each other. And for once, I ain’t thinkin’ about what’s comin’ next, or what kinda trouble’s waitin’ for me out there. All I care about is right here, right now, with Y/N.

After a while, I reach over and grab the remote, flickin’ on the TV. There ain’t nothin’ good on, but I don’t care. It’s just background noise, somethin’ to fill the space while we sit here together. He shifts a bit, gettin’ more comfortable, and I pull him in closer, holdin’ him tight against me.

“Dal?” he mumbles after a while, his voice real soft, almost like he’s afraid to say what’s on his mind.

“Hm?” I reply, lookin’ down at him.

“I’m glad you’re here,” he says, his eyes meetin’ mine. “I know you got other places you could be, but… I’m glad you’re here with me.”

"You think they’ll be back soon?" Y/N asked.

I shrugged again, not really carin'. "Probably not for a while. They’re prob'ly goofin' off somewhere."

He nodded, lookin' thoughtful. Then he looked to me, somethin' serious in his eyes. "You know, Dal, you don’t always have to act so tough."

I stiffened. "What’re you talkin' about? I ain’t actin'. I am tough."

He gave me that look again, the one that said he wasn’t buyin' my bull. "I know you are. But you don’t have to be all the time, not with me."

I didn’t know what to say to that. He was right, and I hated that he was right, but I didn’t know how to be any other way. The streets didn’t teach you how to be soft, didn’t teach you how to let your guard down. But here I was, doin' just that with him, and it might've scared me more than any fight ever did.

Instead of sayin' anything, I just pulled him closer, wrappin' my arm around his shoulders. He rested his head on my chest, and I could feel his breath against my neck. It was real nice, feelin' like we didn’t have to say nothin' to understand each other. We just fit, like two pieces of a puzzle that made sense when they were together.

"Dally?" he murmured after a while.

"Yeah?" I asked, my voice a little rougher than I meant it to be.

"You ever think about what it’d be like if we didn’t have to hide this? If everyone knew and didn’t care?"

I tensed up at that, the thought of it makin' me uneasy. "Don’t see much point in thinkin' 'bout it. Ain’t never gonna happen, Y/N. People don’t get us, don’t get me. They wouldn’t understand."

He was quiet for a bit, then he sighed. "I know. I just wish…"

I tightened my grip on him, hating how small his voice sounded. "Don’t worry 'bout it, alright? We’re good, just like this. Don’t need anyone else to get it long as we do."

He nodded against my chest, and I could feel him relaxin' again. We stayed like that for a long time, neither of us sayin' much, just enjoyin' bein' together without havin' to worry 'bout what anyone else thought.

I was startin’ to think we might actually get a whole night to ourselves. That was somethin’ that didn’t happen often, so I was gonna soak it up while I could. Y/N was leanin’ against me, his head on my chest, his breathin’ nice and steady. I had my arm wrapped around him, holdin’ him close, and I felt like maybe, just maybe, things were alright.

Then, the door creaked open.

I heard it before I saw him. The heavy footsteps, the way the air seemed to shift when he was around. I didn’t even have to look up to know who it was.

Darry Curtis.

He walked in like he owned the place, which I guess he did in a way, since it was his house and all. But right now, I wasn’t in the mood for him.

I glanced up, seein’ that look on his face. That one that said he wasn’t too pleased with what he was seein’. His brows were drawn together, his mouth set in a hard line, and his eyes? They were locked right on me.

“What the hell’s goin’ on here?” Darry asked, his voice low and controlled, but I could hear the edge to it. The kind that meant he was tryin’ real hard not to blow up.

“Nothin’,” I said, keepin’ my voice as casual as I could. I wasn’t gonna let him know he was gettin’ to me. “Just hangin’ out.”

“Doesn’t look like nothin’ to me,” he said, his eyes shiftin’ to Y/N, who was still leanin’ against me. I could feel Y/N tense up, probably knowin’ this was about to get ugly.

Darry crossed his arms over his chest, starin’ us down. “Y/N, mind explainin’ why you’re all over him like that?”

Y/N sat up a little, his face goin’ red. “We were just—”

“I know what you were doin’,” Darry cut him off, his voice sharper now. “And I don’t like it.”

I could feel my temper startin’ to rise. I wasn’t about to let Darry talk to him like that, not when he wasn’t doin’ nothin’ wrong. “Back off, Darry,” I said, my voice low. “Ain’t your business.”

Darry’s eyes snapped to mine, and for a second, I thought he might actually take a swing at me. He looked like he wanted to, at least. “It is my business,” he shot back, takin’ a step closer. “Y/N’s my kid brother. I ain’t lettin’ you screw him up like you screw up everything else.”

That stung more than I wanted to admit. I knew what folks thought of me. Hell, I didn’t care most of the time. But hearin’ it from Darry, with Y/N right there? That was a different story.

Y/N jumped to my defense before I could even say anythin’. “Darry, stop! You don’t know what you’re talkin’ about.”

“The hell I don’t!” Darry snapped, his eyes still locked on me. “I know exactly what I’m talkin’ about. Dallas Winston ain’t no good, Y/N. He’s a player, and he don’t give a damn ‘bout nothin’ but himself.”

“That ain’t true,” Y/N said, his voice firm, standin’ his ground. “Dally cares about me.”

Darry looked at him like he couldn’t believe what he was hearin’. “He might say he does now, but what happens when he gets bored? When he moves on to the next thing that catches his eye? You’re gonna be the one left pickin’ up the pieces.”

That was it. I couldn’t just sit there and let Darry tear me down like that, not in front of Y/N. “I ain’t goin’ nowhere,” I said, my voice steady, but there was a hard edge to it now. “I’m with him ‘cause I wanna be. Ain’t nobody gonna change that.”

Darry didn’t look convinced. “Yeah? We’ll see how long that lasts.”

Before I could say anythin’ else, Darry walked right over and plopped himself down between us on the couch, forcin’ me to scoot over. I could feel the heat risin’ in my face, my hands clenchin’ into fists. He knew what he was doin’. He was tryin’ to push me out, make it clear that Y/N was off-limits.

Y/N looked like he didn’t know what to do, caught in the middle of all this. He glanced over at me, his eyes filled with worry, but I gave him a small nod, tryin’ to let him know it was alright. But it wasn’t alright. Not by a long shot.

I didn’t like not bein’ able to touch him, not after we’d just been sittin’ so close, all comfortable and quiet. And now Darry was actin’ like he had to play the damn protector, like Y/N was some kid who couldn’t make his own choices.

“So, what’re we watchin’?” Darry asked, like nothin’ had just gone down. He reached for the remote, flickin’ through the channels.

Y/N was quiet, too quiet, and I could see how much this was botherin’ him. But what was I supposed to do? Darry wasn’t gonna listen to me, no matter what I said. And I didn’t wanna make things worse for Y/N, not when he was already caught in the middle of this mess.

But I wasn’t about to back down, either. I wasn’t gonna let Darry think he could just walk all over me, or over what Y/N and I had. So, I leaned back, crossin’ my arms over my chest, and glared at the TV. I wasn’t gonna give Darry the satisfaction of seein’ me lose my cool. But I wasn’t happy, and I knew Y/N could feel it too.

For a while, we just sat there in awkward silence, the TV flashin’ random shows that none of us were really watchin’. Every now and then, Darry would glance over at me, like he was checkin’ to see if I was gonna do somethin’. But I just sat there, my jaw clenched, tryin’ to keep it together.

Finally, I couldn’t take it anymore. I stood up, shovin’ my hands in my pockets, and looked down at Darry. “I’m gonna head out,” I said, my voice tight. “Don’t worry, I’ll be back.”

Darry just looked at me, not sayin’ anythin’. But there was a challenge in his eyes, like he was waitin’ to see what I’d do next. But I wasn’t gonna give him the satisfaction of seein’ me snap. I wasn’t gonna let him win.

I glanced over at Y/N, who looked up at me with those eyes that always seemed to know what I was thinkin’. I gave him a small nod, lettin’ him know it was alright, even if it didn’t feel that way.

[ifitmeanslosingyouthenno]

when everything was lost

day 3 whumptober prompt: "set up for failure"

neil and andrew have known each other for longer before neil is taken by nathan

they might have met younger, like maybe seattle and mary happened earlier, and neil ended up around san francisco at the time andrew still lived with the spears, maybe they met before andrew went to juvie, maybe they met at juvie

or maybe neil is able to stay at palmetto for a few more years, maybe he’s not a fox at all, maybe he’s just a casual resident at palmetto that andrew meets outside of exy and they end up becoming friends, and then something more, and then something more

(actually the second alternative seems nicer lol lets go with that)

shit with the foxes is simultaneously worse and better, worse exy wise, bc if there’s no neil, they never unify as a team, and they still fight and they’re still a mess, and they don’t get quite as close to finals

but better bc with no neil, riko’s schemes are not as lethal, not as violent, not as traumatic 

but the foxes are not the point oops sorry

the point is that neil is just a random resident of palmetto who pretends to be a student to reap from the benefits of a college campus, and who happens to have something with andrew minyard, and who’s still on the run from nathan

and like, meeting andrew was not something he ever expected, meeting someone with whom he instantly connected, even if it wasn’t positive at first, was not something he ever expected

bc neil doesn’t have the money to pay college tuition and he doesn’t get a scholarship in this universe, so he just lives around palmetto but since he looks like he’s college aged, he’s realized ways of sneaking into the library, and the gym, and even the cafeteria if he’s lucky

it’s by chance or maybe fate that they keep running into each other: at the gym early in the morning before anyone else has arrived, at the library during the afternoons so that he can at least read up some books and use the computers sometimes, at the nearby cafe late at night

and the thing is that andrew clocked him the moment he noticed him stalling outside the gym one morning, waiting for someone else to use their student id to open the door and ask them to hold it for him, and the moment he caught him doing it twice

their first interaction is andrew calling neil out on his bullshit

bc andrew finds him so endlessly interesting while high out of his mind and well he’s kinda hot so 

and well, when they keep running into each other and andrew always reminds him of the fact that he knows the truth, neil can’t help but to tease him and fuck with him a bit, bc he literally only has sarcasm as his weapon at the time

and like, neil doesn’t notice it and andrew doesn’t admit it until after he comes off the drugs, that the more they run into each other, the more used they grow to each other’s bullshit and they actually look forward to running into each other

one night at the cafe andrew sits on the booth in front of him and just goes for it, just asks neil the truth, asks him why he keeps on pretending he’s a student, asks if he’s homeless

and neil throws all of mary’s teachings out the window bc let’s be real if andrew wanted to hurt neil he would have done it a long time ago, admits that yeah, he’s homeless at the moment, and that he’s going to make use of PSU’s utilities until someone who can actually report him figures him out 

andrew asks him why, and neil, tired and honestly done with the circus show that is his life, tells him, while looking him straight in the eye, that his father is a psychopath who murdered his mother after years of abusing them both and he’s on the run from him, figuring that andrew wasn’t a threat to him

and boy andrew is a sucker for honesty

andrew offers him safety, and neil warns him against it, “im more trouble than im worth”

andrew kindly disagrees

idk the logistics but he starts sneaking neil into the foxhole court at night so he has a place to sleep, to shower, to rest

(wymack knows btw lol he just gives andrew a knowing look after there are missing sports drinks from abby’s fridge, and looks the other way, bc he knows andrew wouldn’t be housing someone who could be dangerous for them just for the fun of it. and if he starts leaving food and snacks in his office well that’s no one’s business)

slowly, through months of meeting up for coffee or a drink or at the library or at a diner, or whatever, they grow closer, they start trusting each other with truths here and there, and neither has ever had this before, never had anyone they could trust and rely on and know that wouldn’t judge them for what they’ve done and wouldn’t pity them for what they have been through

it’s until one night, halfway through andrew’s fourth year, that neil kisses him, bc the’ve both been pining for each other for way too long and neil is fucking tired of waiting for andrew to take the first step

things are good for him, he has a boyfriend, and he meets some of the foxes, and if he starts staying the night at the dorms the only person who starts complaining is aaron (who gets over it when andrew drops their deal) and well

he’s happy, he’s not in the spotlight, he hasn’t seen any of his fathers people for years

he’s safe

he should have known better

the countdown comes at the end of andrew’s last year and he knows, even if he has no proof, that this is it

he runs the moment it hits him, how he could have had this, how he’s been troublefree for years, and now that he has something, someone, who makes him look forward to waking up everyday, it all comes crashing down on him

he can’t stop himself from going back tho, bc if he’s going to lose it all, he might as well enjoy his last days

ultimately, he knew he never should have hoped for a happy ending, he knew he was set for failure the moment he was born, the moment he grew up and didn’t have his father’s murderous desire, the moment his mother took him and ran, the moment she died, the moment he decided to settle here

he knew he was never meant to succeed, he was never meant to survive this war

his end was bound to happen, one way or another, eventually

they come for him when the foxes (when andrew) is away for a game, when it’s only him at the dorms, when a message with a dooming 0 arrived just before andrew left and neil kissed him with enough force to bruise 

he doesn’t make a fuss when they come, just makes sure his phone and bag are in the couch, with letters explaining the full truth inside the duffel, with letters apologizing and guiding andrew to the very last of his money, with clear instructions of how to call the police and his uncle stuart and what to tell them

when lola comes knocking, he crosses over the door with teary eyes but nothing but defiance 

he may be going down tonight, he may be losing this fight, and he may be losing the most important person he never dreamed to have

but if he’s going to lose it all, if he’s going to lose this, if he’s going to lose andrew, then they’re going to lose too

it doesn’t make the hours of torture any easier, it doesn’t make death easier, it doesn’t take away the knowledge that he came close to having a happy ending and failed in the end

(what hurts the most is the knowledge that he’s left andrew behind, with nothing but a burden of the truth)

sorry i kinda lost track of what the prompt was lmao

not my favorite thing i've written but it is what it is

[chillingwithtavesss]

Idk why some of you let that little model girl get to you. She seems a bit out of touch and clearly has put on a persona to impress AB. Relationships like that do not end well. Not to bash the guy but he seems to have issues with being alone. A lot of people of his generation and hers seem to struggle with that. They end up in these relationships just to say they have someone. They end up with not so good people or relationships that don’t fulfill them because they aren’t compatible with their partner. They lose themselves in it and I kind of feel that’s what Kaia has done to some extent up here trying to impress him with a character she just doesn’t have. That’s why they look so miserable. No it’s not privacy or anything of that nature…they just don’t fit. Both of them I believe are to proud to let go. He doesn’t want to because he will look like an ass which will tarnish his pretty boy image and she doesn’t wanna let go because who else is going to be on his level ? Not as a man but look at that status he has given her. I really think you & others who aren’t fans of this circus should really focus on his work and they will end eventually.

I agree with your take for the most part , except focusing on his work. We have tried , it’s hard. That’s why some of us stay off places like twitter where this is a lot of shippers at and be here on tumblr venting. It’s more than just the relationship itself . It’s the shippers who won’t let people have their opinions and be creating trouble. They have ran so many people out the fandom simply because those people wanted to focus on his work and didn’t care for the relationship. A fan base is supposed to be fun. Shipping your fav is something that’s supposed to bring joy. Something you do in your downtime for enjoyment not something that you may low key dread because soon as you see a picture of another shitty pap walk you just know it’s going to be some bs that day in the fandom. Being a fan of someone is not something that should stress you or anything . Like I told another anon , we do not know this man. Being a fan of his and arguing constantly with people is not worth it. Like yes Austin is a magnificent man, and seems like a genuine guy but being a fan of his has not always been fun because unfortunately his relationship with Kaia has taken over his hard work.