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thesharktanksdriver · 3 days ago

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Devils may love?: leaving home, loving life and loosing you

This is part 1 going over dmc3, I’m gonna maybe write parts for the other games if people are interested. Also maybe will eventually write some stuff for the pov of other characters in love with the blind dumbass that is reader.

Links: masterlist, part 2

You never thought that in your life you’d end up working at a place called “devil may cry”

When you initially found a job listing for the job it wasn’t even named that yet, and you never knew how much it would end up affecting your life

You used to fear not being able to pay rent on a daily basis

Feared getting mugged on your way home from a late shift or if your coupons expired before you bought groceries

But now you feared having demons knocking down your door and breathing down your neck on a daily basis

Let alone the fact that you had to deal with that alongside whatever other world ending event you somehow got caught up in

And dealing with taxes

And ensuring that Dante payed for the power and hydro in time

And….

Well there were a lot of and’s with the job that would go on to change your life

Whether that change was fully good or fully bad was up to debate

God knows how long you’ve weighed both sides in your mind

But it for sure made your life a hell of a lot more lively

Quite literally in the hell metaphor

And it all started when you found an add in the paper right after leaving a previous job and needing cash quick

You had a shitty apartment but rent was due in a short amount of time

Couldn’t rely on your parents either, not when they put you in this situation in the first place and you’d took the opportunity to get as far away from their shit as possible

Which meant you had fairly limited options

Especially with the fact you’d also had to drop out at the finish line of high school to make ends meet

That had ended up biting you in the ass more than anything

But the paper in your hands said little qualifications were needed

So it was your last chance

You never knew what it entail when you entered through the double doors of the newly bought building

The street lights above you illuminating your hope filled face holding your short resume

Admittedly sitting down for the job interview with Dante was a rather…daunting task

Less because he was intimidating

And moreso for the fact that the man (you say that hesitantly because he was literally the same age as you) who introduced himself as Dante sat with his feet kicked up on his desk and barely even glanced at your resume

The paper simply ended up in his hands for his eyes to skim before letting it be placed atop a stack of papers that looked like overdue bills nearby

Nor had he asked any work related question like “how do you work well in a team environment” or “do you have any prior experience to jobs like this”

Instead your potential future employer snacked on a slice of pizza and asked you questions like “know any places that deliver mid-apocalypse?” And “want a slice? Can’t guarantee you’ll get more than a piece or two with how fast I eat”

You can’t say you’d had any job interviews end up like this

They mostly ended up with fake smiles and promises to contact you if you got the position and never hearing a peep from them again

But Dante seems all too lax to be considered serious at all

Well besides his serious addiction to take out evident by the few leftover stacked pizza boxes and cartons of Chinese swept off to the side

Whenever you bring up your resume he waves it off or switches topics

He definitely didn’t even read through your previous job experiences

He just read your name and your phone number

What’s worse is that this wouldn’t even be the worst boss you’d had

Just potentially the weirdest

And that’s saying something

But At least he’s not some old creep the age of your dad leering at you

He’s just a horned up teen boy

He’s 18, just like you and just as in need of needing to get by on his own as you are

Though you think for different circumstances

By how he keeps a small photo of a blond woman on his desk, the only thing comparably well kept on the scratched up mahogany slab implies something

Something your not privy to (yet) but something none the less

A thing that leaves him both careless and untethered all the same

Perhaps for both good and bad

Whilst your seemingly the opposite, you can’t help but think of your parents with a bitterness that crawls up and wraps round every memory good (not many I the first place) or bad

Along with the fact that you can’t and don’t want to go back to them and would rather try to scrape by on your own

Even if it meant dropping out before graduation to do so

Just so you could get a job to afford rent since minimum wage wouldn’t get you by

Well…it certainly has a lot of weight to it both

Maybe something he recognizes when despite your made up professional appearance there are some cracks in it

How you nervously play with your hands

The fact that your his age and asking for a job that’d be enough to afford groceries and a roof over your head

No matter how leaky or loud the neighbours were

So when the interview is over you begin to count your losses

Grabbing your bag and trying not to hang your head on the way out

He must’ve just been messing with you

Or at least that’s what you think until he stops you asking where you going

And you can only tilt your head in confusion saying that you were heading back to your apartment

“But your already on the job”

“Huh? But I thought you were pulling my leg”

“What do you mean? I hired you already”

“What?! When???”

“When I opened the door and found an absolute babe in front of me asking for a job”

You think your already starting to regret this choice

But cash is king and you need some of that dollar to get by this month

You’ll just resign when you get on your feet and find something better

(News flash that doesn’t happen. Oh poor young naive past you)

Working at this still yet to be named paranormal/mercenary agency is a relatively easy task

Answer the phone, organize Dante’s increasingly messy desk, file some paperwork and make sure the bills are payed on time

Maybe throw out some old takeout and fight off the colony of raccoons in the back who started making a palace from pizza boxes

Somehow that ends up being the most odd but simultaneously normal thing you’d experienced yet

The place itself is actually quite cosy when you get used to it

Warm lighting accented by a the soft hum of the jukebox playing some 80’s power ballad

It makes for a nice mood when your sweeping up or filling things out

A comfy leather chair and a simple but effective desk for you to work at if it wasn’t already occupied

The smell of gunsmoke and cologne wafting in the air…alongside leftover pizza remains that you try to mask with fabreeze

On that half the job is simple

Effective as you mainly just ensured the place didn’t burn down

Or have the power taken again

Something you’d expect from being a secretary and or cleaner

(You will not say your a maid, Dante kept insisting that maybe he’d get you a proper costume to go with it that you quickly shut down)

And mainly answer the phone when Dante wasn’t there to butt in and take the receiver from you

But on the other hand working at this still unnamed place also means you were working with Dante

And that was a mixed bag in of itself

For as much as he initially intimated you with his display of guns right behind his desk or the sword casually strapped to his back

Or the ungodly amount of times you dealt with him covered head to toe covered in gore and blood

Or the fact he was your boss and could fire you at any moment

Dante’s intimidation factor quickly faded away into mild annoyance from his Dante..ness

Look you aren’t paid enough to deal with this crap-

To others Dante was the demon hunter

A mercenary of well known regard

A hero who saved the day and stopped the forces of hell

A badass with a penchant for overly complicated and dramatic theatrics

And dear god was he known for how he did this all effortlessly while seemingly being the coolest man ever known

But to you he was your annoying boss

This was both affectionately and as an insult due to the amount of times he’d gone out of his way to dump the bills on your desk and high tailed it out of the store using a mission as an eccuse

Dante as your employer is weird plain and simple

He has moments where he toys with you slightly

Pushing your buttons but never pushing too far

Small jokes sent your way but nothing extreme

Knowing when you began to look genuinely upset and stopping before he accidentally crossed the line in the sand

He drapes himself over your shoulders while your trying to fill out his papers

Keyword his

Or he calls you by those god awful nicknames

He calls you a plethora of stuff: babe, baby, hot stuff, sugar

But most embarrassingly and most frequently

“honeypie~”

You’d swear with the amount of times he called you that you could permanently pay for the electricity bill and maybe even the water

A shit eating grin on his face as he drags out the pet name whenever he could in a sing-song manner

(Including in front of clientele and eventually the other members of dmc when they join…and it unfortunately sticks since everyone but Nero partakes in torturing you this way-)

You’ve chased him with his plethora of weapons many times trying to wipe that grin off his face

Yelling his name at the top of your lungs as he hopped over his desk and toppled the stack of still unsigned paperwork

The phone ringing conveniently has saved him too many times when you were just about to get revenge

The most effective threatening tool of them all was the well loved broom you’d swear you’d mastered at this point

But on the other hand Dante is equally kind as he is annoying

When not playfully teasing and joking Dante just talks to you

Sometimes it’s mundane things like asking for recommendations for new schlocky horror flicks to watch

Other times it’s complaining whatever demonic creature he was sent to exterminate

Something he had initially tried to hide from you before you very easily pointed out the literal demon heads he’d impaled on the walls weeks earlier

For all his bravado and being a bit of an ass he’s caring at his core

You see that through his actions that are both loud and clear and quiet and invisible

There are times he makes his care obvious

He watches intently and knows when your tired and pushing yourself to get things done even if your trying to hide it

The subtle lull of your head as exhaustion seeps into your bones

He gets up from whatever he was distracting himself with (typically a magazine of some sort)

Telling you to “take a break there babe. Don’t want you to keel over too soon” though the slight edge to it indicates his worry as he takes the paperwork off your desk and stashes it some place absurdly high

His go too method to get you to stop overworking

other times when you fall asleep at the front desk you wake up to find his coat draped over your shoulders and yourself relocated on a nearby couch

A small sticky note clinging to your face saying “don’t overwork yourself honepie, who else is gonna keep me in check. By the way there’s some leftover pizza for you in the fridge if I’m not back by when you wake up - your favorite devil hunter Dante :)”

How he offers to walk you home or let you stay the night if it was getting particularly late

Though whenever he makes that offer he ruins it with the wiggling of his eyebrows immediately after

And the cheeky grin that by that point your too tired to try and erase off his face

But even then, when he makes that offer you see in crystalline blue eyes the sincerity in them

A smidge of worry and maybe even a crumb of fear

His more subtle care comes in the form of how you find your area more safer than usual

Less muggings let alone demons slinking through the night

Apparently he made it known that these were his stomping grounds and with his reputation most demons knew to stay clear

Same for muggers as well with his name in the underworld

His other silent care comes in the form of finding your favourite snacks eventually stocked at in the small kitchen

It comes from a few stray questions here and there

Or noticing what you packed yourself for lunch/snacks

He never acknowledges it

But you do find he has a small smile when seeing you enjoy what he bought

Content without a thank you because seeing your smile was enough

how the jukebox now seems to contain songs you’d mentioned enjoying out of nowhere

Or songs you’d already liked in the machine playing more often

Because that’s the sort of person Dante was

The man who when you call in sick ends up at your place with wanton soup and medicine

Never asking for anything In return except for you to recover properly

Or The fact he always he always buys you a strawberry sundae alongside his own or makes sure to buy a split pizza incase you didn’t like his toppings

It’s perhaps because of this you keep telling yourself you’ll put off finding another job

That the job market was bad right now even if you’d seen another promising job

Just because seeing his stupid grin when he sees you enter was payment enough even without the cash

“Dante I swear to god! Get back here!”

“Sorry honepie! Got a job to do!!”

“You’re not leaving until you pay the god damn bills you asshole!!! If you can deal with demons then you can deal with me you bastard!!!” Raising the broom you whack his head, making the devil hunter groan and he returns to running for his life out the double doors “also pick a god damn name for this place already! A business needs a name!”

You end up seeing Dante in various particular intimate moments in his life (Even before all the craziness that would come later on down the line)

It first begins when you see the days he’s drained from wear and tear

From the jobs that went bad even if he made it back alive

his shoulders sag even when he tries to act like his cocky self

His grin more strained as blue eyes hold back tears from failure to save someone

You don’t ask

Never have the heart to

But you do find yourself pulling him close even with the height difference

The first time it happens he goes stiff

Still as a statue in such an uncharacteristic manner

Thinking he’s uncomfortable you tried to pull away, an apology at the tip of your tongue when shaky arms pulled you back

Clinging to you as knees buckle and he ends up in the crook of your neck

You don’t mention how his sobs are heartwrenching

Nor that they haunt you with how vulnerable it sounds

Instead you thread fingers through his snowy hair, weaving through the soft locks

You never ask what happened

Instead you say that you’d order pizza tonight, on the house

With a few sobs he tries to argue but you don’t relent

And somehow the stubborn man you called your boss relents

Perhaps for the first time you’d ever seen

It’s later on when these moments happen though few and far between that he opens up bit by bit

It takes about a year but Like small fractures in a dam it eventually breaks and lets out the waterworks

He tells you he had a dad, a stern but caring man who disappeared one day and probably died

He tells you that he had a brother, his twin who was his opposite in almost every way possible down to contrasting favourite colours

The most caring mom in the world who died as flames consumed their home

He could only stay hidden in the closet

Scared and alone

Powerless to it all

How for years he was alone with only a trail of regrets and people he cared for ending up in the crossfire

How he’s only part human (though to be honest you already kinda put that together after he walked off being impaled one day)

All because of him

That despite it all he only ended up failing time and time again

And most surprisingly that he was scared

Scared for you

Because everyone he cared for ended up dead

And that he’s sorry for being selfish and keeping you around despite the risk

That you have to hate him for how annoying he was

For the danger he brought even being in the same room as you

It’s admittedly a lot

But you hold him, letting him get it all out

Hands that had seen so much loss and blood clutching you like you were the last valuable thing in the world and simultaneously made of glass

It just solidifies your words when you tell him that honestly he was a giant pain in the ass

A admittedly terrible boss

A smartass and flirty bastard

But he was a good person

Someone who did his best despite the circumstances

Because no matter how much he was kicked down and spat on he took it with a cocky smile

Never letting the salt in the wound sting in front of others

And that most importantly you can’t guarantee that you won’t get hurt

But you’d stick with him

For some reason despite all the risks he lists off you wanna stay

Your not really sure as to why

But you stay and that’s what matters

The risk he practically begs you to consider

Yet you stay

So in the vulnerable moments you wait for him by the doors

Waiting and ready for him to collapse into your arms

Ignoring the blood and gore that you’d inevitably have to wash out your clothes yet again

But it’s a price to pay when the man you call your friend

Your technical boss who was more like your own employee than anything with how you heckled him to get work done

Your best friend and worst migraine holds you with such fragility

You never confirm with him but you think the last time someone hugged him like this was his mom

All those years ago as the blazing flames surrounded them

It’s perhaps why he clutches you so close

Hoping to not let go and have the past repeat itself

But unlike back then you remind Dante that he’s not powerless anymore

He’s not the scared boy locked in a closet surrounded by the flames

He’s a man with the power to protect those weaker than him

Because he knows what it’s like to be powerless

To pray for a hand to reach out and to now be that hand for others

Despite what he thought you remind him that the truly powerful protect what they love

(Unbeknownst to you, you are that love)

(The beating heart that makes his humanity all the more apparent and his demonic side all the more powerful with something to protect)

All the while you morn the fact that Dante and you are the same age

Both kids with no one seemingly but each other in this world and left to navigate with one another

Your both just kids

You’d heard too many of Dante’s stories about his childhood not to recognize the sight of his brother inside your apartment

White hair slicked back instead of messy locks framing his face

Their near identical features if not for the ominous threatening look in blue eyes that you knew Dante would never direct towards you even if you took the last slice or banned him from strawberry sundaes yet again

You’d think after all the stuff you’d been through due to Dante like the incident with the raccoons out back becoming infused with demon power

Or the amount of times you’d saved his sorry ass from going fully broke

That this would be the worst thing that could happen

An Incorrect assumption

Looking at his definitely evil twin brother you can’t help but sigh and put your hands up in defeat

He told you awhile back about his run In with his twin

Said twin trying to steal his half of the amulet that the half-demon always wore

Well “always wore” besides the times he’d go to take a shower and ask you to hold onto it for him for a bit

Then returning it once he was done, a certain shine of gratitude in his eyes when he sees you polished it for him

Anyways back to the evil twin thing, apparently Vergil gave back said amulet because “he said he could take it back anytime he wanted”

The death glare and that quote alone alerted you to what type of person you had in your apartment

And that’s not even accounting the fact that he’s also part demon and has a real ass katana with him

“So do you want me to write a note for him before you kidnap me? Or do you want me to call him instead?”

To be completely honest after the raccoon incident you can’t even be remotely surprised anymore

But this does either earn you amusement from said definitely evil brother or at least some brownie points for being compliant

“Your cooperating?”

“Listen sir…uh Vergil? I’m assuming your Vergil? Anyways Vergil I’m not paid enough to deal with this….and your brother said I’d be paid overtime if something like this happened. So if anything this a forced paid vacation”

To be honest that last part was mostly you trying to find some good in this admittedly shitty situation

You always had great copping skills or at least that’s what you told yourself

At least you’d hopefully get something out of this besides trauma

And potential scars physical and psychological

Or Maybe even death if your super unlucky and piss off the blue half demon

But that was an if

A big if due to the fact he hasn’t already cut you down implying he needed you for something

And hopefully that something would give Dante enough time to save you

God forbid he doesn’t or else you’d become a demon and claw your way out of hell to torture him with undone paperwork

And with that you end up as hostage/bait in a literal hell tower that spouted up from the ground

Vergil and some weird guy called Arkham holding you at the top of the tower like some princess

Guess in this case Dante would be your proverbial knight in shinning armour while Vergil was the dragon or something

The analogy wasn’t too far off with that weird ass jester occasionally popping up to piss you off when Vergil left the room

You couldn’t wait for the long nosed bastard to have some lead shoved inbetween his eyes for the fact he kept joking about your dead expression whilst being kidnapped

Unlike him you had some scraps of dignity you wanted to save

Plus what was even the point of kicking and screaming when you were up against a half demon and whatever else they had up their sleeves

Speaking of said other half demon though

Surprisingly you didn’t entirely mind Vergil

Was he an ass? Definitely

But at least you could have a conversation with him

Something that surprises even him when you spotted him pulling out a book of poetry

Specifically William Blake

Yeah, surprise surprise somehow that “useless” class in high school your parents hounded you about wasting your time on actually became relevant

You’d say you’d told them if it weren’t for the fact you never wanted to see either of them again

He reads quietly aloud not expecting you to finish the last part for him

“The sun descending in the west, the evening star does shine; The birds are silent in their nest, and I must seek for mine-”

“The moon, like a flower, in heavens high bower, with silent delight, sits and smiles on, the night”

For the first time you see something crack in his stoic demeanour

a spark of something when he then turns to you

Surprise? Maybe even a hint of some sort of longing

You don’t know what he went through after he was separated from Dante, but you can only guess it was just as hard as his twin up to this point

So maybe finding someone with the same love for flowery words of a dead guy was comforting in some weird way

At least as comforting it could get for someone who hated humanity

He walks over to where you sat on the cold ground with your wrists and ankles bound, asking if you knew more of Blake’s work and when you nod

At that there’s a moment of silence and then he asks for your interpretation of old words on faded yellow pages

This leads you to discuss with Dante’s brother without being called a “useless human” 5 seconds in

Honestly sitting atop the weird demon tower debating with him wasn’t what you pictured

But it is a sure if a lot better than what you originally imagined

Mostly because it’s actually pretty fun

Vergil unlike Dante seems to like debating and discussing

Something that was hard to do with Dante because he either brushed it off or was more prone to changing the subject

You don’t blame him for it, stuff like this wasn’t his forte

But it was nice having someone to talk to about it

The two of you start off at first with Blake

Interpretations of his poems meanings

Particular passages either of you enjoyed

That evolves into discussion of other poets

Poe, Dickinson, Shakespeare, Wilde, frost and Shelley

But it later devolves into world views

Specifically his opinion on humanity

Because despite the fact that Vergil is part human and his fully demon father married a mortal woman and seemingly abandoned that part of himself

Vergil ended up despising his humanity

Thinking of it as inferior to his demonic half

Well, maybe hate was a strong word but he definitely looked down on humans

Yourself included but maybe a bit less considering he was talking with you instead of scowling silently as he did before

He was the opposite of Dante in every way

While Dante embraced his humanity Vergil shunned his own

But Vergil accepted his demonic half whilst Dante still remained hesitant of it

One brother was loud, the other silent

One Red and one blue

One Warm and one cold

Complete and total opposites in every manner of the word

While you don’t agree with Vergils views you do try to understand them

You make the effort of understanding him because you think he deserves as much

Not only because he was important to Dante but because like Dante he also was your age

He was a kid like you are even if he tried to act mature

He thinks his mom abandoned him that day in favour of Dante

Telling him she didn’t wouldn’t change his mind especially from you of all people

A human who’d never met her or was there for that event

Especially if Dante had tried and still couldn’t get through to him

So instead you reason with him in other such ways

Sparda had sealed off the demon from the human world for a reason

Didn’t that indicate something to him?

Plus he was already powerful enough by every other standard possible

He could outmatch any human that came his way

He raised a god damn hell tower to prove it

He was already top of the proverbial food chain with enough power

Dipping his toes into this though could shift those tides

Admittedly you knew jack shit about hell and it’s hierarchy besides the small tidbits Dante explained

And even then those snippets of information were from the small stories his dad told when he was younger so it was dubious at best

You’re not sure if Mr. Sparda had sanitized stories for his sons or if he told them the truth and didn’t cushion the blow

But it safe to say even the most powerful of humans couldn’t compare to the upper crust of hell

Plus the added bonus of It being closed off for who knows how long giving an even bigger question mark as to what’s down there

Because if hell is anything like humanity things change and demons get stronger

For all he knows he could be inviting that Mundus guy his father went against to his doorstep

And seeing how Sparda apparently had a difficult time defeating him at full power the odds weren’t in anyone’s favour

That last part seems to shake him a bit more than you’d initially thought

You see the stone cold demeanour crack slightly

“Are you calling me weak?”

“I’m not, Far from it. But all I’m saying is that opening that portal is opening pandora’s box.” For a moment you pause watching his stewing expression “there’s no undoing it if you do and no telling what your unleashing on not only everyone else but yourself. Your not guaranteed anything from this, let alone the power you seek ”

Distantly if you listen hard enough you swear you hear gunshots ring out on the lower floors of the tower

The familiar rhythm and melody of ebony and ivory’s gunshots

You’d heard them too many times to be able to memorize the sound

But along with that your alerted to the fact that someone else besides Dante is in the tower

Something Vergil seems less than amused with

Not to mention the fact he looks like he’s perpetually 5 seconds away from stabbing that Arkham guy nearly any time the man opens his mouth

Something you can’t exactly complain about since you’d also found him plain weird

And that’s saying something

The only thing out that bald freak’s mouth that you agreed with was that a storm was approaching

Both physical and metaphorical as you sit when the rain begins to fall

Sitting atop this ancient tower of stone you can’t help but find some irony in it all

Sparda had sealed away this unholy tower to stop the passage from one world to the next

But ultimately it’s one of Sparda’s sons who tries to resurrect it and undo his fathers work while the other wants to topple it for humanity’s sake as his father did

It was like a twisted form of jenga with this Tower of Babel

With you unfortunately at the top of the tower waiting for it to topple

The moon hangs high in the sky, Illuminating the droplets that shine

The pale silver light reminding you of both of the twins hair

Dante’s is left down to frame his face, free and messy just like he is

Whilst Vergils is pushed back and sleek, professionalism and an air of confidence in it

Never had you been as relived in your life until that point when you see Dante’s knotted messy mop of hair

Slightly stained with blood and viscera that soon began to wash away under the rain

You can’t help but yell his name in sheer excitement, his eyes light up

Lurching forwards your stopped not only by the fact that your currently tied up with uncomfortable ass rope but also the fact that Vergil unsheathe his sword in front of you

A indignant huff escaping him

(From your yell or his brother your not sure…probably both considering him)

You see your reflection in the blade alongside the hollow presence of the moon

Her silent presence a small comfort in this entire situation despite her impartialness in helping

(You do not see the blue wearing brother glance down at you for the briefest of moments)

You can’t do anything but watch as the two fight

Blow after blow

Slash after slash

Round after round fired from ebony and ivory

All the while you stay huddled to the ground trying to desperately stay out the way

Your works cut out for you though on account the two seem to pivot away if they get too close

No matter if either was about to win Dante would pull back if either him or Vergil got too close to you for comfort

And you think even Vergil seemed to do the same for some reason

Maybe he wanted to kill you later or something

But the turning point comes and red stains the cold ground

Yamato impaling itself through Dante’s chest while you can only watch

You can’t help but scream his name again as he falls and the necklace is torn from his neck

The heirloom he seemed to only trust you with being stolen

Vergil smoothed his hair back under the rain in a comedically villain manner that takes you out of it for a moment

This is your life now

Captive atop a tower while two half demon brothers duked it out

Dante twitches, ready to get up but Vergil takes Dante’s own sword and stabs him with it

Vergil and Arkham talk for a moment but your too distracted to pay their words any attention

Not when your focused on Dante

and then a beam of light shoots out Dante’s sword and the sword changes?

And then Dante’s back up again

This all happens in the span of a couple minutes the while your gaping at the scene

Because a) you knew Dante had some type of magic deus ex machina bullshit but you didn’t know he could get stabbed multiple times and survive. Mind you, you’d seen him stabbed once or twice before and walk it off but several times in a row was something you didn’t expect him t just walk off either

plus b) all this time he could get impaled several times over and yet his ass would run like you were coming at him with a chainsaw when you were trying to whack him on the head with a broom a few days back

You don’t get much time to focus on that anymore

Not when Vergil picks you up and walks to the edge of the tower

All the while Dante stumbles to his feet

A bloodied cough erupting from his chest as he tried to stumble forwards with his arm outstretched to you

“Oh please god no, can’t you just take the stairs-“ before you get to finish your plea Vergil takes a leap off the tower with you firmly on his shoulder grasping him for dear life “DANTE!!”

Never had you thought that your life would end up like this

And it all came from a singular job ad

#devil may cry #dmc #dmc3 #dmc virgil #dmc dante #dante sparda #vergil sparda #Dante #Vergil #dmc x reader #dmc x you #devil may cry x reader #dante x reader #vergil x reader #devil may cry x you #this took way to long #devils may love?

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vee-the-ghostie · 2 days ago

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I realize that this poll has ended by now, but I can't not reblog this with my thoughts. I had a brother who was killed in a car wreck more than 10 years ago and I would give anything to see him again. At the same time though, I don't know if I could handle it if he was brought back to life. In the interest of getting closure, I'd like the opportunity to talk to him again for as long as I could. There's so much that I want to share with him. I want to introduce him to who I am now as a trans woman. I want to play his favorite games with him again and show him what the latest releases of those games are. I want to listen to music with him again, share his favorite artists with him and show him some of their new music. I want to show him some of my favorite YouTubers and have him make fun of me for liking them. I don't think I could do this either tho, because I know that if I spoke to him again I'd just want to change my mind and bring him back for good. But that would be selfish of me to do to him. I just want him to be happy, and I know that wouldn't be possible if he was alive again. I just miss him so damn much. So much of who I am is because of who he was and I'd give anything to be able to say thank you to him and tell him I love him one last time.

(also feel free in the tags to clarify Why you made the choice you made!! :0c)

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marvelslut16 · 2 days ago

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My Utah

Pairing: Dr. Frank Langdon x Dr!reader

Synopsis: Reader hears Javadi failing at asking out Mateo, and it takes her back to when she tried asking out Frank when she was a first year resident.

Word count: 1.4k+

Warnings: Mentions of the mass causality event/shooting. Mentions of blood. Mentions death once or twice, nothing too graphic, no one major.

A/N: Couldn't remember what hour the Utah comment happened in, so timeline probably doesn't fit the show exactly. AU where he isn't married, nor does he have the drug issues. Again, not really sure how I feel about this one, I'm still pretty rusty when it comes to writing. But 2 fics in 2 days?!?! Who am I?

“I don’t date people in the workplace,” you hear Mateo responding to Javadi’s stuttering. Poor girl, and when you hear her stutter some more, you take it upon yourself to step in and help Victoria.

“Do you mind if I steal Dr. Javadi from you? I have a patient I want her to help with,” you smile at Mateo, acting like you didn’t hear anything they had been saying.

“Yeah, of course,” his eyes flick to Victoria, before nodding to you.

“You seemed like you could use some saving in there,” you laugh lightly once you’re sure Mateo won’t be able to overhear you.

“My parents once took me skiing for Christmas in Utah and from the moment I got off the plane, I just, I could not catch my breath, no matter how hard I tried. The altitude just made me awkward and uncoordinated. I couldn’t concentrate, I couldn’t get my bearings. And I’m a very good skier, but I just spent the whole vacation, just like, on my butt, dizzy, panting. And Mateo’s like a human Utah.”

“Oh, I have my own Utah,” you laugh in understanding. “It could always be worse, he could be engaged. He’s not!” you add the last part quickly when you see her eyes widen in panic.

“Oh, good,” she lets out a sigh of relief.

“But mine was, or at least practically engaged. I found out he had already bought his girlfriend a ring after I made a fool of myself.”

“How did it end up working out?” Victoria asks, finally getting her own emotions in check.

“We’re great coworkers now, but it was one of the most embarrassing days of my life,” you admit, walking up to the nurse’s station.

“Is he here today?” Victoria asks, looking around the ED trying to figure out who’s married.

“He is,” you sigh, avoiding looking in Langdon’s direction. “He’s in South twelve right now.”

Javadi whips around to see who could be the person to knock you off your bearings. “Langdon?” she asks in complete shock, she imagined it would be someone more like you- someone nicer.

“It was like in one of those cheesy romance novels, it was like the whole world disappeared and there was only him. He was a second year resident at the time.”

Just talking about it transports you back to two years ago, getting lost in his baby blue eyes. He seemed to take a special liking to you, he was always having you work alongside him, pulling you away from other residents when he had a more interesting case he wanted you to experience.

Within the first month of you being in the Pitt it was like you and Langdon were attached at the hip. When he could see you slowing down during one of your many twelve hour shifts, he would slip you little snacks like granola bars or cheese crackers. If you had down time you were grabbing coffees or water for the two of you from the break room. The way you were with him caused Perlah and Princess to gossip about the two of you. And it didn’t stop with them, when no one else was around even Dana and Robby would talk about the way the two of you act around each other.

With each passing day your feelings for Frank grew stronger and deeper. You spent pretty much every waking minute thinking about him, anytime you could let your mind drift it would slip back to thoughts of him. It didn't help that you would grab late night dinners to decompress after pretty much every shift, and spending your days texting one another about anything and everything.

Even with all of that time spent together, you had no idea he had a girlfriend- and a serious one at that. If you had known you never would have dreamed of asking him out, of thinking you had even a sliver of a chance with him. One fateful day two months into your rounds, you asked him to go to the Carnegie Science Center with you on your day off. His face immediately changed from the carefree smile that Princess swears he reserves just for you, to a cold hard stare. You can still feel the white hot embarrassment washing over you to this day. You were so embarrassed, and to make matters worse you had just spit the question out at the nurses station right in front of Dana, wanting to- needing to- ask Frank before you lost your nerve. So you got rejected right there in the middle of the ED in front of your charge nurse, the same nurse who told you two weeks later that he had gotten engaged over the weekend.

“At least I waited two months before asking mine out,” you tease Javadi.

“Dr. (Y/L/N),” you and the first year resident beside you freeze at the unmistakable voice. “Can I get your opinion on a patient in North four?”

“Yes,” your voice squeaks a little, once again feeling the embarrassment you felt around him two years ago. “But, I’m bringing Dr. Javadi, she could use the experience.”

“Okay…”he furrows his brows at you, confused by your reaction to him.

Javadi watches Langdon and you, how the two of you move in sync, no trace of the awkwardness she’ll no doubt have with Mateo going forward. She doesn’t know how she didn’t see it before, the little looks you two give each other as you work, wordlessly communicating your thoughts to each other. He may have rejected you years ago, but he still clearly cares about you and values your opinion.

The remaining hours of your shifts slip by; Javadi, Langdon, and you being separated and thrown together multiple times throughout. She watches you two, observes the way you take care of each other.

“Cute, aren’t they?” Dana asks Javadi once she returns from her CT scan. “Been wondering when they’ll get together. The whole department’s got a bet going if you want to get in on it.”

“Isn’t he married?” Javadi asks, confused. Afterall, you said he had an engagement ring for his girlfriend.

“No, he couldn’t go through with the wedding,” Dana gestures toward where you and Frank are leaning against the other side of the nurse’s station, giggling over the cups of freshly brewed coffee you just made.

Your moment is cut short by the announcement of the shooting at Pitt Fest, everyone is scrambling trying to set up the ED before the first ambulance arrives. You work through the carnage, compartmentalizing everything you see, so you don’t break down in the middle of the chaos. There’s blood everywhere and you’ve changed your gown at least two times. You’ve lost Frank in the frey, which is to be expected, but hard nonetheless when he’s your lifeline. Slowly but surely everyone works as a well oiled machine and save everyone that you can.

Once it’s all over and your body no longer has to run on autopilot, you're faced with the reality of what just happened. The blood smeared across the floor reminding you of the teenager, with her whole life in front of her, that you couldn’t save. Tears start to collect on your lashline standing in the middle of the emergency department, watching all of the fluids get mopped up so the ED can be opened back up to the public like nothing just happened.

“It’s okay, you’re okay,” Frank appears out of nowhere, pulling you tightly into his chest. “We just need to hand off our patients to the night crew and then we can go home.”

“I don’t want to be alone tonight,” you grip onto his scrubs.

“I know,” he whispers, kissing the crown of your head without a thought. “You can come over to my place, I’ll make us some dinner, and we can watch a movie. I’ll even let you put on one of those trashy rom coms you love so much.”

“Thank you Frank,” you bury your head into his neck, taking a deep breath and putting your game face back on.

“I love you,” Frank says out of nowhere, still holding onto you.

“I love you,too, my Utah,” you smile at him before heading off to find a resident to hand your cases off to. Frank and you will have to address your confessions when your emotions have calmed and the adrenaline has worn off.

“What?” he asks himself as you walk away. “What’s a Utah?”

#dr frank langdon x reader #dr langdon x reader #dr langdon x you #dr frank langdon x you #frank langdon x reader #frank langdon fanfiction #dr frank langdon imagine #the pitt fanfiction

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goorgeousz · 3 days ago

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so i have a request or idea but i'm sorry to say i didn't think about her in the shower, i thought about her while i was crying lmao🫠🥲

a few days ago i read a book where the protagonist's father treated her terribly:( and her partner tells his father'don't talk to my wife like that' and they leave, he comforts her and is the best husband ever written.🥹🥹

so all I thought about was my big, angry man ✨Hotch�� maybe they go to a family dinner for the first time and see how the reader's family treats them, belittling their work and stuff like that, until at one point they say like 'we never know how she got someone so as interesting as you Aaron' and he just explodes because cute man defends his lady and he's just grotesque and all to defend her and she's crying because she loves Hotch too much and that he saw so much in her It means a lot because she has never really felt like this. 😭🤍🤍

i hope this helps you, it felt better in my head than when i wrote it.🥹🥹♥️

i love what you do, sending you love!

xoxoxo

to be loved is to be known | aaron hotchner

pairing: bf!aaron hotchner fem!gf!reader

summary: reader didn’t want aaron to meet her family. after one dinner he understands why.

content/tw: established relationship, crying, reader has siblings, toxic family, angst, fluffy ending, reader’s mother makes comments about her weight

word count: 3k

a/n: I absolutely loved your request, best believe I dropped all of my WIPs to write this one (sorry not sorry). I hope whatever reason you were crying about it’s over, but if it isn’t, then I hope this can warm your heart a little. Thank you so much for your request and your kind words!!! Sending much much much love, hugs and kisses!!

all hotch tag: @winyourheartemma

dividers by @uzmacchiato

masterlist <3

You weren’t hoping for a car accident. You weren’t hoping for your boyfriend’s phone to start ringing with a new and very urgent case.

But as you sat in the passenger seat of your boyfriend’s car on the way to your childhood house, you couldn’t help but wish something – anything – got in the way.

It was only a few days prior when Aaron, your boyfriend of almost 7 months, decided to drop the bomb. The ‘I’ve never met your family’ bomb. And later that day, when your mother called you (like she did every Tuesday night) he was with you. He was comfortably seated on your couch, staring at you with puppy eyes as you had the weekly catch-up with your mom (which resumed in talking your ear off about whatever stupid subject was on her mind). So, you couldn’t help but offer a family dinner to introduce them to your boyfriend, to which she, for the first time in a few months, was actually happy and excited about.

The regret hit it like a truck at the exact moment he walked out your door. But there was no way of coming back now, after it was all set up. Aaron seemed actually excited about meeting your family, and you understood that this was probably a big deal for him. In general, actually. It was a big step in a relationship, you recognize. And it’s not like you weren’t ready for that step, you and him were probably living together by now. It was that you didn’t want to pop the perfectly healthy bubble you both created.

And family dinners were always… stressful.

You could’ve just explained that to him. Aaron, being the perfectly polite and respectable man that he was, would understand immediately. But you didn’t want to be the whiny immature little girl who couldn’t deal with problems. You were an adult, you paid your own bills, you had your own place. And he was the Unit Chief of the BAU, a title that on its own raised expectations. You couldn’t be the FBI bossman’s girlfriend and stress about your mom calling out your weight, or about your father criticizing your job. And if this wasn’t enough, Aaron was amazing. He was the most kind, loving and appreciative man you’ve ever met. You wanted to be good for him. So if you had to endure a few hours with your family, then be it. He was worth it.

And selfishly, you wanted to brag about dating him to your family. Yes, dad, mom. I’ve made it. Suck it.

When the day came, saying you were stressed was an understatement. Aaron sat quietly on your bed watching you change your outfit a handful of times, try at least three hairstyles and do a full face of make-up twice. He didn’t say a word about it. Unless when he complimented you, to which he did evey time.

You didn’t cry, which was always a good sign.

You held the flowers and the wine he brought while he drove. The forty-seven minutes drive rode without music. He found it strange, because you insisted on blasting your playlists even when the drive wasn’t long enough for a single song (when it happened, he always made sure to drive extra slow to make sure you sang every word and drummed every note of it).

If he noticed you shifting your position (every two minutes), or you rechecking your makeup on the rearview mirror (every red light), or you applying your lipgloss (three times and once more when you got there), he didn’t say anything.

Just before you reached the handle to open the door, he turned to you, reaching over the console to grab your hand.

“Is everything ok?” you huffed a laugh at his question, leaning over and giving him a peck on the lips.

“They are gonna fall in love with you, Aaron. Just like I did.” you said, honestly. He scanned your eyes and when he made sure you were being honest (he always knew when you lied, that’s why you came up with a method of being evasive everytime you didn’t want to tell the truth).

Squeezing your hand one last time, he stepped out of the car, quickly making his way towards your door. He took the flowers and the wine off your arms, helping you get off the seat and walking with you up the front stairs.

Before you knocked you turned to face him, a rush of courage running through your veins with being so close to the house.

“Listen, before we get in…”

Whatever you were about to confide in him got interrupted by the front door opened. Your mother stood there, with a tight smile she reserved to you, her beloved daughter.

“I thought it was you, my dear. You must be Supervisory Special Agent Hotchner. It’s a pleasure finally meeting you.” she cheered, standing her hand. He gave her a polite smile.

“Just, Aaron, please. The pleasure is all mine, Ma’am.”

“Come in, please. Honey, will you please finish up the kitchen?” she asks, rushing your boyfriend inside without giving you a second glance.

Aaron chased after your eyes, worriedly, but you just dismissed him, winking and mouthing a ‘Told you.’

You quickly made your way towards the kitchen, your body remembering all too well how to walk those corridors. Just like always, you finished off dinner, making sure the dishes were done and everything was in its place while you heard the laughter of the rest of them in the living room.

“There she is, my beautiful baby girl.” your father cooed, standing up on his seat next to Aaron when you walked in and approaching you to hug you “We were just showing Aaron here your child pictures.” he spoke, laughing.

You felt your cheeks burn in embarrassment, biting hard on your inside cheeks to keep from complaining. No mature woman would throw a tantrum over a child photo album.

“She hated pictures. We tried to collect memories, you know, Aaron?” your mom recited, showing a sequence of pictures “But she just didn’t accept it. Always grumpy, always turning away. You got yourself a hard one.” she laughed, playfully pushing his shoulder.

He stared at the pictures, somehow amazed. Your heart raced at the smile growing on his face (like it always did). He held one photo, your least favorite one. Your face was puffy with crying, your hair wildly flying everywhere. You had your mouth open like you were saying something (probably begging them to stop), and your braces shone against the flash of the camera. Your clothes were clearly not your size, your posture curved like you were trying to turn into a ball.

You hated that picture with all of your being, but your parents kept showing them to everyone who dared to stop by. Aaron held it close to your face, his eyes with nothing but found as he said

“So your eyes have always been this shiny. I’ve always wondered.” you smiled at him, the warmth of his love for you never failing to make you feel at home.

“Well, let’s eat before the food gets cold, right?” your mother announced, rushing everyone into the dining room.

It all went surprisingly well (at least as well a dinner with your parents could go).

“This is delicious, Mrs.” Aaron complimented, after your mother refilled his plate.

“Thank you, dear. Do you cook, Aaron?” she asked, dragging his name as if she was enjoying being that close to an FBI agent.

“I can get by.”

“He’s lying. Aaron is an amazing cook.” you interrupted, nudging him with a proud smile.

“We figured, right, darling?” she asked your father “I noticed the moment she started eating more. Her puffy cheeks can’t deny it! Just like when she was my baby, following me everywhere.” your mother cooed, leaning over to your chair and pinching your cheek.

For the first time that evening Aaron looked absolutely mortified. He opened his mouth like he wanted to say something, anything, but nothing came out. He didn’t know where to begin. It would be funny seeing him all flabbergasted if it weren’t for the ache on your heart from your mother’s words.

Whoever said that time heals everything is full of shit.

Just like that, your father changes the subject for your teenage stories: your least favorite subject in the entire world.

“I’ll tell you what, Aaron. You’re a brave one. We knew it from the one: she’s a hard one.” your father pointed at you with his chin, smiling like he was complimenting you.

“What do you mean?” your boyfriend asked, sounding genuinely confused.

You could see right through his act. The way his knuckles went white at how hard he gripped the silverware, the muscle on his jaw flexing like he was struggling to keep tightly shut. You wanted to kiss his cheeks until his dimples started showing again.

“Oh, you know. Don’t take me the wrong way, we love our grumpy baby girl.” and then, he turned his attention to you “Take it easy on him, sweetheart. He’s a good one, you won’t want him running away. Don’t make it so hard for him.”

Aaron stepped up, interrupting before any other subject got introduced and he lost his chance.

“Loving your daughter is the easiest and most effortless thing I’ve ever done.” he said, with a slight frown.

He wasn’t smiling, wasn’t laughing. He wasn’t trying to make you feel better. He was stating a fact. He was saying it so sure of himself, that made your parents seem crazy not to feel the same way.

You bit back a smile, bumping your knee against him. He did it back. ‘Thank you.’ ‘I got you.’

“Of course you say that.” your father laughed like he told an inside joke “Look at your job. Speaking of which, we want to hear everything about it.”

And then your mother started rambling about a few cases she watched on the news, asking details and making all kinds of questions, to which Aaron made sure to answer evasively enough to not break protocol, but making sure to spill some uneventful details to distract them. Your heart swelled with love every time he directed his attention towards you, asking details he “forgot” but told you in private, just to include you (on dinner with your family in your childhood home).

“I want to take a moment to appreciate you being here, Aaron.” your mother started, beaming at him “I know you are a very busy man, and I hope it didn’t mess your schedule up.”

“No, I really wanted to come. Thank you for having me.”

She just dismissed him with a wave of his hand “I can only imagine how hard it must’ve been to make time to be here with us. It’s very important for our family. I say this because our other children all also have very important jobs, and unfortunately weren’t able to make it in such short notice.” she looked at him apologetically. Aaron only stared back, once again too stunned to speak. Your mother looked back at you, throwing a wink and a lopsided smile “The perks of not having big responsibilities.”

“That’s not…” Aaron’s speech got interrupted right away. You tried not to sigh too loudly.

“There’s something I want to do.” your father announces, clasping his hand together with an excited smile.

Your mother gasped “Do you think it’s time, my dear?”

“Absolutely, darling. Wait here, you two.”

You weren't sure what was about to happen, but you were sure it couldn’t be good.

What an euphemism.

A couple minutes later your father gets back with a champagne, sparkly and expensive. Your face falls at its sight. You bite your cheek not to cry.

Your mother stands up right next to him, and they look at you like they were about to make an oscar-winner level of speech.

“When our children were babies, we bought each of them one of those.” he lifts the bottle “We kept them with all of our love, waiting to pop them open when the moment came. And today, it's time for our final bottle. We had promotions, graduations, admissions. It makes me emotional to think how long we’ve come. When our baby was just seven, she had a dream. She wanted to find a loving and rich husband and live as a princess.” he chuckled, raising his hands in apology “Now, I do not want to jinx it, but I do think…”

“That’s so unbelievably disrespectful.” Aaron spat.

Silence.

More silence.

Your father clears his throat.

“Perdon me?” your mother tries.

“The entire evening I watched both of you mistreat her, sugarcoating it with a half-hearted compliment. It’s very clear to me that none of you value her as the woman she is, and there’s only one reason: you don’t know her. And aren’t even slightly interested in doing it." His tone was harsh and straightforward, glaring daggers at your parents. They seemed small and insignificant in front of the anger boiling over Aaron’s eyes. “It’s impressive to me how you don’t even realize how poorly you’ve been treating her. She’s the smartest, kindest, most selfless and talented woman I know, and you two have the audacity to pop up a champagne as if her biggest accomplishment in life is getting a boyfriend?” he chuckles darkly “I’m incredibly proud and sorry at the same time at how immune she is to your behavior. But I’m not, and let me say this loud and clear: I will not, under no circumstances, tolerate anyone treating my girlfriend like that. Anyone.”

He said, his eyes fulminating them. With a short nod, Aaron stood up and walked himself out the door, not waiting for anyone to lead him out. You followed suit behind him, not even sparing a glance to your parents.

The two of you drove silently all the way back to his place, without not much more than a word. Your mind raced with thoughts, your whole life passing through your mind like a movie, so many things you thought were normal. So many memories, so many feelings. You were nowhere near comprehending everything, but it was a start. You could see it more clearly now.

Aaron locked the door after you got in, and you heard him sigh.

“Listen, honey, I’m so sorry…” he interrupted himself when he heard you sniff. He touched your shoulder, aching to hold you close, but now knowing if that’s what you want “Are you crying? I apologize, it wasn’t my place…”

This time, you were the one interrupting him. You turned around and threw yourself on him, burying your face on his chest and crying your eyes out. His breathing deepened, kissing the top of your head and stroking your hair.

You had no idea how much time you spent like that, but eventually he picked you up with ease and sat down on the couch with you curled up on his lap.

After a while, when your sobbing toned down to silent tears, you glanced up at him.

“Thank you, Aaron. I’ve never felt so seen in my entire life.” he held you closer, like he wanted to keep you close to his heart forever, protecting you from every possible harm.

“At first, I thought you didn’t want me to meet your family because you weren’t there yet. Relationship wise.” he began.

You pulled yourself away from his chest, still seated on his lap but shifting to face him “Not at all. I just didn’t think they deserved you.”

He gave you a pointed look “They don’t deserve you.” He stared deeply into your eyes, as if he wanted to make sure you understood “The very first thing you said to me when you first met was that you were complicated.”

Aaron took a deep breath, watching your eyes like he finally completed the puzzle. “You always seemed ready for me to leave you, always made sure to look understanding. Like you believed I would give up on you, and it would be only the right thing to do. You always mentioned, between a joke and another, that you were a problem, a burden. That you didn’t deserve me, like it isn’t the other way around.” your gaze fell to your hands, the weight of being seeing hard on you.

“Aaron…” you whispered, your voice weak from all the crying. He gently grabbed your chin, forcing you to meet his eyes. To see every emotion he felt towards you. He kissed your chin, each of your cheeks, where you probably had tear strains. He kissed your swollen eyes, your makeup defined smudged. He kissed your forehead, your nose and your lips, taking extra long there. When he made sure you were paying attention, he pulled back and kept speaking.

“I remember thinking what on earth made someone like you believe that. The thought consumed me. I needed to know, needed to understand where all that came from. You know, profiler.” he joked, which made you laugh weakly.

“And somehow you missed the reason why I didn’t take you to meet my parents sooner.” you teased. He rolled his eyes.

“In our line of work, when we end up in a case that is, for some reason, personal to us, the protocol is to step back. Do you know why?” you shook your head “Because love can cloud your judgement. It certainly did mine.”

“Careful, agent Hotchner. You might make me think you’re in love with me or something.” you joked. He smiled, giving you another kiss.

“I am. Desperately so. And apart from what you think, it’s not difficult. I can’t imagine a life where I met you and didn’t fall in love with you. It’s the most natural thing for me.” you press your lips together to keep them from shaking, as your eyes filled with tears “Do you realize you’ve absorbed their disturbing opinions of you? You keep repeating them to yourself like a mantra, like it's a fact. I always wondered why you think so lowly of yourself. It’s now clear.”

“I hate that.”

He kissed the tip of your nose.

“ I’ll tell you what: we’re on this together.”

“On what?” you gave him a puzzling look.

“We’re breaking down those walls, brick by brick. Every single lie they made you believe was true, we’re tearing it all apart.”

“Ugh, this sounds like a hard job.” you muttered.

“It’s not. In the slightest.” he disagreed immediately “Thank you, honey. Thank you for letting me see that part of your life. Thank you for allowing me to love you, and for loving me back. You amaze me more each day, and I’ll make it my personal mission to make you see it too.” His words were low and serious, not made to impress. Made to let you know, to make you believe.

“Even if it takes your whole life?” you asked, trying to make it sound like a joke to mask your insecurity.

It would be a long way to go, but the love flooding over his eyes was a great first step. “Especially if it takes my whole life.”

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mintyys-blog · 18 hours ago

Note

I love your work, can I request invincible variants x reader who

can break the 4th wall?

HEADCANONS | mark variants with s/o who breaks the 4th wall

INVINCIBLE MASTERLIST 2 | WARNINGS:

MAIN MARK

“So this is your character development moment,” you say, gesturing at nothing. “Cue the heartfelt speech, and maybe a swell in the soundtrack?”

Mark just blinks at you. “What are you talking about? Are you okay?”

You squint. “Huh. I figured you’d be genre-aware by now. Rookie mistake.”

“There’s… no soundtrack,” he says slowly. “Is this some kind of joke?”

VILTRUMITE MARK

“You’re acting like this is some kind of… story,” he growls.

“It is. You’re the hardened antihero from a tragic empire. I’m the wild card with unexplained powers. The shippers are gonna love this.”

His brows knit together. “What is a shipper?”

You just grin. “Exactly.”

MOHAWK MARK

“This is your edgy arc,” you say, watching him dramatically leap across a rooftop. “Moody. Shirtless. Probably doomed.”

He squints at you. “How the hell do you know what I’m gonna do before I do it?”

“Because I read ahead.”

“Read what ahead?”

You tap your temple. “The script.”

He flips you off and storms away.

SINISTER MARK

“You talk like someone who’s read my thoughts,” he says.

“No, just your Wiki page,” you say cheerfully. “Very dramatic, by the way. Love the angst.”

He goes still. “Wiki?”

“You really don’t remember the Season 2 finale? Oof. Repression is a hell of a coping mechanism.”

“What are you?”

OMNI MARK

“You always start the scene with a threat. It’s your thing,” you sigh. “Then you’ll say something about how I disappoint you.”

“You do,” he snaps.

“Boom. Called it.” You turn toward the empty air. “He’s so predictable. This is why they keep rebooting him.”

“Who are you talking to?” he demands. “What are you looking at? There’s nothing there!”

PRISONER MARK

“You ever wonder if this is all just some script someone’s watching for fun?” you ask, sprawled out beside him.

He flinches. “No… Why would you say that?”

“Because I see them.” You point past the ‘camera.’ “They’re right there. Watching us.”

He backs away, panicked. “Stop. Don’t say that. Don’t look at things that aren’t real.”

SHIESTY MARK

“You think you’re slick,” you grin. “But your arc’s been obvious since Episode 5.”

He pauses mid-sentence. “…What episode?”

“Never mind. Keep monologuing, it makes the edits easier.”

“Edits of what? What are you even talking about?”

You just wink. “You’ll catch up in the finale. Maybe.”

EMPEROR MARK

“Your empire collapses in like… six more chapters,” you say as you sip something that wasn’t in your hand two seconds ago.

He stiffens. “You’re lying.”

“Am I?” You glance straight past him. “Quick, zoom in on his eyes. He’s doing the denial stare.”

“There’s no one there,” he says tightly.

“That’s what they all say.”

MASKLESS MARK

“You keep talking like this isn’t real,” he says quietly. “Like we’re… fake.”

“I’m just the self-aware love interest,” you shrug. “You’re the guy the audience cries over when you die tragically.”

His face darkens. “That’s not funny.”

“Tell that to the writers.”

FULL MASK MARK

“You don’t talk much, do you?” you muse, circling him. “Just dramatic body language. Classic.”

He tilts his head slightly.

“You’re the mysterious fan favorite. Enigmatic. Broken. Probably a walking metaphor.”

He doesn’t move. But something in his posture stiffens—like he’s starting to notice how weird you are.

“It’s okay,” you whisper, looking directly at the camera. “He doesn’t know we’re in a scene yet.”

TAG LIST: @onlybatsyy

#x reader #x female reader #reader insert #mark grayson x reader #invincible x reader #invincible variants x reader #invincible variants

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aurora--who · 2 days ago

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i dont feel like responding directly to idiots in the notes but i just wanted to remind everyone in there talking shit on actual leftists who spoke out against biden and harris that your beloved liberal establishment is no better than trump. and not only that, but liberalism is a huge part of what's gotten us this far. your wishy-washy, half-assed "anti racism" just means the goalpost gets moved for a bit, not removed. if you think an establishment that lied about babies being beheaded to justify ethnic cleansing, and more notably lied about any intent for a cease fire, would be meaningfully less racist than the trump admin, you have your head further up your own ass than i thought.

because believe it or not, what obama, biden, and likely harris stand for is not anti-racism. it's finding whatever racism is still acceptable. the overton window has been set by the republicans so far into the right that liberals praise dems for being against *some* kinds of racism. or at least posturing as such.

im not even going to get into all the bombings obama committed, bc it's clear liberals are not interested in combating islamophobia. but since we want to point fingers and say leftists are evil and stupid for pointing out the obvious, let me do the same. the same monster that trump has appointed to border czar this time around was obama's pick as well. surprised biden didn't pick him given obama's praise of him.

so forgive me for doubting harris's likelihood of stopping any of this when she herself planned on cracking down on aslyum speakers, same as biden, but dems have no real interest in stopping this. the only reason establishment dems give a shit is bc it hurts the economy to lose immigrants, and it hurts badly. you'll notice that there is no incentive to do the same for palestine, and interestingly, far far fewer dems vocally support the movement.

if you think they'd never stoop as low as the republicans, you're half right. they don't need to. they wait their turn, fundraising and pocketing lobbyist money in the senate, pointing at the right in mock horror, and all the while know that their turn will come again bc people like liberals will vote for them, no matter what. doesn't matter how many thousands of children they send bombs to blow up, look at how bad the orange man is! just ignore how they have condemned gaza, focus on the racism they *do* care about fighting, and be happy you damn commies!

it is sickening how many liberals are willing to throw marginalized groups under the bus, and then sit upon their high horse and cry about how sad they are that another group is being pushed under the bus by the right.

#just as liberals always forget the first few lines of niemöller's poem #they always seem to ignore the first few groups being targeted #so fucking tired bc they will literally sit and watch various groups and leftist movements stand and fight and lose #and be all smug despite the fact that they caused this. liberals stop quoting niemoller you are literally the “i did not speak up” part!!#also i dont' think i need to state this but i am just as upset about my immigrant friends #just tired of liberals using them as a moral high ground while gaza is still there. even if they wont look.#sorry if this is derailing im just so tired of libs sidestepping the real issues to jerk themselves off

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bbokicidal · 1 day ago

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Little Blue Pill | [SKZ]

Synopsis: In which your boyfriend takes a special enhancement pill for sexy time.

Pairing: OT8 x Afab!Reader Genre: Suggestive/Smut Warnings: Humiliation tbh, handjobs, oral/throat fucking, lots of teasing, changbin gets tied up, sub!ji

Chan:

He found the pill in a convenience store when shopping for some random little shit and thought it would be fun and interesting to try it in his own time

Which is why he's now texting you begging you to send a pic

He PRIDES himself on not being one of those types of guys - the type to tell you to run to the bathroom quick and take a pic up your skirt but he's so desperate right now

And he knows you'll do it for him; Especially when he doesn't ask you to but rather turns to demanding you do it for him

If you're not feeling it he'll back off but judging by your blushing emojis and shy/dry responses, you're in the process of doing what he asked and he's so happy you listen so well

You're his good little bitch and he'll remind you of that

And reward you for being so good, of course, by sending you a vid of his cock leaking all over his hand

Minho:

He only takes the pill after you reassure him that it won't cause any horrible side effects and that if it does, you'll stop right away

You two end up talking about it a few times but you're not actually there when he takes it

He decides to surprise you by doing it on his own, knowing you'll love it if he just sort of - shows up with a hard on

So he takes the pill before he leaves his apartment, making his way to yours. He finds you in a small apron making yourself breakfast and you let him in with a pleasant smile, always happy to see your boyfriend in his free time

But you're caught off guard when he presses up against you from behind, his cock straining against his sweats with how hot and heavy it is

He leans into you, arms wrapping around your waist and whispering soft, sweet nothings while he kisses at your shoulder in want. You catch on pretty quickly, sure of yourself that he'd never gotten worked up this fast before.

"Did you take the..?"

"Mhm," He hums, smirking against your neck and sighing out in relief at the way your hips roll back into his own. "Thought I'd surprise you. You'll help me out; Right, baby?"

Changbin:

The pill is your idea but he's on board pretty immediately. You want him to take a pill that keeps him hard for longer than normal? Fuck yeah! And put a ring on him while you're at it.

He LOVES it.

He's in shambles even just feeling the ribbon wrapped around his wrists tight, keeping his arms up above his head. His thighs are spread open with a bar and you're teasing your fingertips over the head of his cock, leaky and drooling with pre at the need to be touched,

Changbin won't admit it until after - partially because he can't think straight right now - but he really, really loves this experience and if you want him to take a pill in the future again too, he absolutely will.

The feeling of you jerking his cock so loosely and teasing the shit out of him for hours on end, and his cock sitting stiff and rock hard against his tummy the entire time?? He's never felt so messy and desperate before but he's all here for it ~

Hyunjin:

The pill is his idea and actually - he takes it without even telling you.

And it's the best sex of your life.

He's never gone that long before and he wanted at least three rounds out of you, wanting to thoroughly ruin you before it was all over and the effects of the capsule wore off. And he loved having the opportunity to fill you with his cum over and over again.

Hyunjin actually tells you the morning afterward, leaning against the dining table and shyly admitting to using a pill the night before. He's afraid for a moment that you'll be upset but when you ask if that's the reason he was able to pound into you for that long, he feels a bit of relief.

Pills become a somewhat normal thing for you two after this! He doesn't want to take them all that often because it makes him feel like he's.. cheating or something when it comes to sex, but if y'all wanna spice things up for a night - the pill comes into play and it keeps him going for at least a few hours. ~

Jisung:

Jisung is a little nervous about the pill when you bring it up to him.

He's seen the scary ads before, but honestly for you he's willing to risk it all. So he pops the pill about an hour before the two of you initiate anything and honestly? He's having the time of his life.

Everything feels normal at first but then he's rock hard in his shorts and he's a little embarrassed about how he seemed to pop a boner just from you kissing him so passionately -

But the second you touch his cock, every thought in his pretty little head flies out the window.

It feels electric. He's on cloud nine, gasping out and whining into your mouth as you jerk his cock under his waistband, not even bothering to strip him before you took full control. He's all but melting into the couch as you lean over him and take care of him,

But you seem to under estimate the pills powers because he comes relatively easy -

That just means you have to make him come over, and over, and over again - Right? Now's your chance to try a bunch of new things on your boyfriend that you'd wanted to experiment with before but didn't have the chance to because of how he couldn't handle more than one round...

(He's in for the night of his life.)

Felix:

It's his idea and he's not shy about it.

He mentions it one night, says he already bought a few in case you were open to the idea, and also gets a few things for you as well so it's not one-sided.

He pops a pill, and while he waits for it to settle into his system, he busies himself with burying his tongue in your pussy to keep you satisfied while you wait. It doesn't take long - but it does give him a chance to taste you and then bring out something he'd bought for you as well.

He leans over you with a grin, biting into his lip as he rubs his fingertips over your clit and keeps you stimulated,

But then everything feels so much more sensitive and Felix leans down to blow cool air over your clit, your body jolting and shuddering only to jerk again when he latches on to suck against the bundle of nerves. His tongue flicks over your clit as he moans out, everything he does making you squirm and whine in awe.

Though he's in the same boat shortly enough, fucking into you harder than ever before because of the pill. It's like his sex drive shot through the roof (as if he wasn't super horny to begin with) and he's never been so loud until now.

You can't complain, though; His moans are like music to your ears.

Seungmin:

It's sort of a mutual idea. He wants to try it out because he's attempting to push himself out of his comfort zone, and you're naturally a bit of a freak -

It pairs well with the idea of popping a pill and going for hours.

Though you didn't expect him to be so greedy with it.

He's groaning the entire time he fucks into you, and at first it's nothing too crazy; His hands on your hips, his pace pretty standard, his posture just fine -

But during the second round is where he starts to lose his composure. He's pushing your hips down, pinning you to the mattress, flipping you onto your side and then your front and trying new angles without asking you to move because he just wants to manhandle you himself. He leans over, slouching and breathing hard with sweat dripping down to his chin and throat as his pace becomes brutal.

He leaves a few bruises on your hips from how hard he holds onto you but - it's all worth it. ~

Jeongin:

He's never felt so out of his body before!

The pill makes him... not anxious but incredibly eager. It makes his cock so leaky and wet and he's smearing pre over his length as he waits for you to come back from the bathroom because he can't keep his hands off his dick - that's how bad it is.

He comes before you even touch him. He leaks all over his hand as soon as you step out in your pretty lingerie and he's choking, blushing so hard his ears burn bright in embarrasment and need.

He's in shambles when you get on your knees to lick him clean. Your tongue against his cock feels like Heaven and he's groaning out about how good you are to him, his head tipping back and his hips bucking up. He barely even notices that he starts to fuck your throat until you're gagging and drooling around him.

He's just so lost in pleasure that he can't keep control of himself.

Especially when he's fucking you and your pussy is squelching around his cock, sucking him in like you're a personal little sleeve made just for him to use. Part of him hates thinking about you that way, objectifying your body and dumbing you down to just a toy for him to use when he wants, but in the moment he can't bring himself to care,

He even voices it to you - Tells you what a pretty little cocksleeve you are for him and when you whine in reply, because you can't speak with the way he's pounding into your cervix and threatening to rearrange your guts, it spurs him on to keep talking to you like that the entire time you have sex.

Which, you can't complain about, of course.

Permanent Taglist :

@dwaekkicidal @possum-playground

@thatonedarkskinnedsiren @oc3anfloor @theyadorevalerie

@jeonginsleftcheek @pixie-felix @hwangjoanna @skzophreniic

@silly250

#skz x reader #skz imagine #stray kids x reader #skz smut #stray kids smut #bangchan x reader #felix x reader #changbin x reader #hyunjin x reader #jeongin x reader #seungmin x reader #skz fic #skz headcanon #skz imagines

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yueichihara · 1 day ago

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A date with Mephisto

Our little pretty crow was feeling down for being left behind on Sylus' birthday! So I thought about taking him out for a date.

cw: major fluff | yearning looks | Sylus x MC |

word count: 1,656 words

“I’m pretty sure there’s no need for this.”

You don’t need to turn around to know Sylus is still lingering behind you, his arms crossed and one brow arched as he shaked his head. “I am sure I need to do this.”

It had been about a week and a half since Sylus’ birthday, and Mephisto had yet to forgive you both for leaving him behind. Again. This wasn’t the first time you two went on a date alone, but it seemed to have been something he had been expecting to be allowed to tag along to. According to Sylus, he’d been pouting since that day, following instructions but refusing to get closer to you like he always did. You’d tried luring him out with snacks and shiny things, but he’d only let out a noise that resembled a snort and turned his head away.

You’d come to the conclusion that there was just one option left: a date with him. Of course, it wouldn’t be something you’d usually do with Sylus, but you needed to get his trust back. Both of you. So you’d go with this: Mephisto and you would go on a date, visit a few places, go for dinner by the beach, and Sylus would stay. Mephisto had cawed with an eager flap of his wings when you’d presented him with the idea, turning to look at Sylus with a smug glint in his eye, earning a glare from his boss.

You were currently in Sylus’ garage, looking for a bike to use as tonight's vehicle. Sylus had not been pleased with the idea, immediately refusing to stay behind and let you two go out alone. He’d only backed down when you’d teased him about Mephisto being more charming than him and taking you away. He’d laughed mockingly and closed the distance, lifting your chin with one finger as he leaned down. His voice was low, almost a whisper “Sweetie, I don’t think anyone else is ever gonna be able to satisfy your desires.” and then he’d kissed your cheek, his lips lingering more than necessary, before pulling away.

Now you turned to him and couldn’t help but snort, all that sass had suddenly turned into some kind of uneasiness, trailing behind you and still trying to dissuade you from going.

Narrowing his eyes, he walks closer “Care to share the reason for your good humour?”

Not letting him have his way, you walk away from him towards the bike that had caught your eye, acting unimpressed at his attempt to corner you. “My humour is good because I get to have a date with the most interesting character in the N109 Zone.” You take your helmet that had been hanging from your elbow and put it on as you settle yourself over the motorbike. You’d agreed to drive to the entrance of the base and get Mephisto from there. The garage’s door opens in the distance. “I am the ruler of this place and you find him more interesting?”

Smiling at him, you put your visor down and start the bike, making the engine roar to life. “It’s because you rule over this place that you’re not, mafia boss.” You don’t let him react to your teasing before driving away.

Mephisto lands on your shoulder as you take off the helmet, leaving the bike parked near the beach. There was a gathering of people in the distance, a band playing indie music was giving a free concert at the fair according to your research. It was a warm summer night, you’d worn a light dress and shorts beneath it for the ride, your make up matching the pink of your dress. It didn’t matter that it was Mephisto, you wanted to give a good impression to your date companion.

You wandered in between stalls, looking and enjoying yourself, talking to Mephisto about trivial stuff, him cawing in response every now and then. He nipped at your neck when you passed in front of one specific stall, filled with handmade jewelry and exquisite sea themed gems.

“Oh those are so pretty, Mephi!” You exclaimed, leaning closer to get a better view. “Tell me which one you want, I’ll get it for you.” Beaming with energy, he nuzzles against the side of your face before jumping on the table. “Careful!” You send an apologetic smile to the vendor.

“Oh don’t worry, I can see your buddy is eager to get something nice. Here,” He says, offering a box that was stashed away “these are the ones I save for people who have a good eye.”

Mephisto peeks into the box and uses his beak to rummage inside, looking for something that might catch his eye. You see movement from the corner of your eye a few stalls away, but when you start to turn towards it Mephisto caws at you, signaling that he’s made his mind and grabs the gem with his beak. You help him choose a matching chain before paying and heading towards the restaurant you’d made the reservation at. Wind was starting to rise this close to the sea, and you make it a point to dress better next time you came regardless of the season. You rub your arms as you curse at yourself for leaving your jacket inside the bike’s compartment.

Mephisto looks at you curiously and you smile at him, changing the topic. Announcing yourself at the door, the staff guides you to one of the outdoor tables where the view of the sea was stunning. The lights from the boats drifting in the distance contrasted with the darkness of the water, the stars shimmering in the midnight sky. Some of the other customers looked at you weirdly but you paid it no mind in favour of enjoying your company.

One of the waitresses brings over the menu, looking at Mephisto with curiosity but saying nothing about it. You’d obviously mentioned your companion for the night when making the reservation, and the staff had been kind and open about it. A sudden cold breeze makes you shiver, wondering if it would be worth it to change this beautiful scenery for a table indoors. But as soon as you see Mephisto watching the waves and the reflection of the stars in the water, as if they were pearls drifting away, you decide not to.

The smile vanishes from your lips the moment you feel a touch on your neck, your body tensing and readying for battle. Mephisto looks over and tilts his head, his eyes gleaming.

“Aaand… you’re dead, sweetie.” With an irritated sigh, your body relaxes as you turn to look at Sylus, his expression relaxed, a smirk playing at the corner of his lips. “You shouldn’t get your guard down just because you’re having fun.” He puts a jacket over your shoulders -your jacket-, before sitting before you on the empty chair.

“What are you doing here?” You ask him, but your words lack curiosity or bite, already knowing he’d been tailing you since a while ago.

He points to Mephisto with the tip of his chin “You should ask him that, he’s the one who called me over, kitten.”

Your eyes narrow on Mephisto and you playfully pinch his beak, your eyes then softening as you proceed to pat his head. “If you wanted us both to come, you should have said so, Meph.”

“Caw” He flaps his wings and motions to Sylus and you with his beak. “Caw”

You laugh looking over at Sylus, his gaze warm as he watches the two of you. Your eyes meet and you stay like that for a while before Mephisto nudges your hand.

“Caw” He says and points to your purse.

“Right! You want to give it to him now?” Reaching inside, you take out the necklace with the gem you’d bought before. “Here.” He grabs it with his beak and jumps over to Sylus. “What is it?” Sylus says, trying to sound annoyed but failing completely. “Oh. Is it for me?”

“Caw” You see as Sylus’ gaze softens surprisingly more as he takes the necklace offered from Mephisto’s beak, with a gentleness that leaves your heart aching.

“You should have seen the glint in his eye while he rummaged through the gems. He found something that goes with your aesthetic.” You lean your elbow over the table, your chin on your hand as you watch Sylus examine the gift. It is a deep red translucent gem, shaped like a natural heart. A delicate golden metal thread framed it, as if it were veins. The golden chain you’d chosen matched it perfectly.

“Thanks.” Sylus says looking at Mephisto, patting his head. “You, too.” He smiles at you and you grin at him. The sea’s icy breeze disappears as your dinner unfolds, lighthearted chat and laughs filling the space around you.

When dinner’s over, the three of you head over to the shore, few people around now that the stalls have started closing down for the night. Sylus holds your sneakers with one hand, the other firmly clasped in yours, fingers intertwined. You feel the sand between your fingers, still warm from the afternoon’s sun. Mephisto suddenly flies overhead, perching on a rock further away, giving you both space. You feel Sylus’ thumb softly stroking the back of your hand before he speaks.

“I initially refused, you know.” You look at him, knowing he’s referring to Mephisto’s invitation. He lifts your hand to his lips and gives it a kiss. As he puts it down again he looks back at you. “But he told me I shouldn’t be missing out on how beautiful your smile looked today.”

Your heart fills with warmth as you look over at Mephisto, his eyes locked on the moon. Looking back at Sylus, you say, a wide smile tugging at your lips “See? He is the most interesting character in the N109 Zone.”

#love and deepspace #lads #lads sylus #sylus #mc x sylus #qin che #sylus | qin che #sylus qin che #lnds sylus #l&ds sylus #love and deepspace sylus #sylus lads #mephisto #lads mephisto #sylus x mc #sylus love and deepspace #sylus qin

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trampleddoves · 20 hours ago

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bad idea right

Holiday break with your new stepfamily gets more interesting when you catch your stepbrother's lingering glances.

Pairing: afab!reader x stepbrother!Spencer Content: angst + slight smut, 2.7k words, DDDNE, no kinks, but Spencer is your stepbrother (set just before-s1), reader is a college graduate and mentioned to wear dresses and makeup, reader gets tipsy, complicated family dynamics and unhealthy coping mechanisms, making out, dry humping. Notes: MDNI. I do not condone the choices of the characters, this request truthfully just brought to me a fully-fledged idea that I could not ignore. Once again, scroll away if this isn’t your cup of tea. Title is indeed from the Olivia Rodrigo song, which I extensively listened to while I wrote. This isn’t even that smutty, but I really enjoyed exploring ideas of resentment simmering beneath the surface. I suppose this affirms a previous anon who accused me of being a freak—evidently. Of the highest order. Welcome. I bear cookies and milk. They’re poisoned.

Winter break. The chill wraps around the air like an overbearing mother—inescapable, looming in corners you wouldn’t suspect—although Spencer Reid wouldn’t know what having an overbearing mother entails. Diana Reid had never been overbearing even in her lucidity but the comparison seems apt. A certain foreboding attitude hangs over the house. Gathering here, with his father’s new family, a measly, pathetic attempt to be closer.

He’s never particularly gone through the usual sulking phase of adolescence. Too busy growing up, being good, working hard to hide how he’s splintering at every corner—a young boy burdened by the weight of his genius and a mother absent from reality. A life without the support of a father.

A father who is now desperately trying to reconnect, accepting him—forcibly, under the guise of love—into the fold of his new family. It’s all so performative, but then again Spencer knows all about performative. Having spent years trying to seem okay, like his mother isn’t rapidly deteriorating, hiding the fact that she’s unfit to be his guardian behind clean, well ironed clothes and his remarkable academic performance. His entire life is a laughable farce, so he sees through everything—the perfect spread of Christmas dinner, being forced to open presents in the morning together—they’re all facades precariously balanced on everyone’s cooperation.

He'd played the part, baring his teeth as a way of smiling—he's never quite properly learned how to smile, having little cause for the action—posing for pictures, thanking his new stepmother for the new copy of Foucault’s Madness and Civilization.

It’s a good gift, even though he’s already read the material. Shows that she made an attempt to know about him. Spencer could admit that the woman is kind, thoughtful, stable, he could see how his father would fall in love with her. But there's the underlying implication—she's nothing like Diana Reid.

He decides he hates her the day after Christmas. He decides William Reid doesn't deserve her either.

It feels like now he’s getting his life’s worth of teenage angst. After Christmas is over, he locks himself away, talking only when talked to. His father and stepmother are gone today, attending a fancy brunch with their shiny new friends, so Spencer ventures out of his room cautiously. His quiet footsteps are simply manifestations of his unease. Trying to create the least amount of noise, take up the smallest space. He does not feel welcome here, and he doesn’t want to.

Winter break. The chill insists upon invading the house, despite the heater.

Yet you’re standing in the kitchen, stirring a bowl of cereal in nothing but a slinky, emerald green slip.

You. The most beautiful woman he’s ever seen.

His stepsister.

He pauses at the doorway, mouth dry, eyes trained on the way the fabric falls over your body, reflective silk casting shadows and highlights and making every single curve seem so supple and soft and oh so tempting.

He clears his throat. “Good morning.”

“Hey,” you look over your shoulder to regard him. He’s found that you’re even more displeased by this arrangement, this quick merging of two families. Traditional holiday festivities ring hollow now, obviously ornamental to make the marriage seem less dismal. Your way of showing your displeasure is the exact opposite of his. Instead of holing up in your room, you’re always outside if you can help it. He’s not sure where, but it’s obvious that neither of you are happy.

He stands awkwardly, unsure of what to say. He’s finally reached a point where college graduates are age appropriate enough to be considered his peers. No longer the youngest person in the room. But at this point, his social grace is completely in reverse to his intellect. That is, nearing zero. He has no idea how to talk to you.

“I’m gonna meet a couple of friends for lunch,” you say, lifting the spoon to your mouth. His gaze follows, before he finds clarity and looks down.

“That’s good,” he mumbles, walking to the fridge and finding the milk carton.

“You wanna come?”

“Not really.”

He sees you shrug from the corner of his eye. Part of him wants to retract his rejection, but you’re already rinsing your bowl. Soon you’ll flounce off, and he’ll be alone. Good, he decides. It’s better off like this, holding you at a distance. He doesn’t need more fuel to add to his inappropriate attraction to you.

Leave it to him to mess this up. He doesn’t even want this new family—he’d much rather spend Christmas in Nevada. A small room he rents near Diana’s sanitarium, so he could spend time with her whenever he can. Still, he can’t believe he’s committing to this cliche. Nerdy step brother ogling his beautiful step sister. It’s as if he carries some permanent malady, inflicting it upon everything he touches.

“I’ll see you later then, Spencer.” your touch on his arm makes him flinch.

He ducks and nods, hiding away from the odd look he’s sure you’re giving him. A look everyone gives him, even his mentor, the only man who could ever keep up with him. Weakly, he answers, “Yeah. Later.”

Later turns out to be way past dinner; Spencer is alone for far longer than he anticipated. His father and stepmother return around dinnertime, the woman drunk and stumbling about. William Reid pats his son on the shoulder, before quickly retiring to the master’s bedroom, “We’re both exhausted, Spencer. Make sure your sister gets home at a reasonable hour.”

What constitutes reasonable? He’d never gone out and partied when he was studying—or after, if he’s being completely honest. Still, he nods at his father, deciding there’s really no harm waiting up for you.

It is quiet when you stumble into the house, but there’s a light in the kitchen that makes your heart rate spike. Your mother? William? Are you in trouble for staying out? Can you even get in trouble when you’re an adult? What are the rules for adults still living with their parents? You’re unsure. There’s no curfew, but the presence of the light reminds you all too well of past conversations when your mother had caught you sneaking back in.

It’s easy to regress back into the habits from your earlier years when you’re around her. Locked in this perpetual dynamic of mother and child—mother and daughter, which is arguably even worse—where you’re meant to forever stay young, her baby as she likes to say, with a beaming smile as if that would soothe the sting of having to move back home after college.

Tail tucked between your legs, accepting defeat. You had plans of making it in a big city—didn’t everyone? But money and luck and a whole other host of factors are not on your side, so you’d begrudgingly accepted her offer. Come live with me until you get your feet solidly planted on the ground, she had said. Conveniently leaving out the part where she remarried. But you didn’t want to be homeless, so you had smiled through gritted teeth and moved back in, accepting William Reid as your new stepfather, as if your old, real father wasn't buried six feet down the ground only eight months ago.

It’s his son now that’s waiting in the kitchen. Spencer. Scrawny, bug eyed. Your mother had gushed about him in the past few weeks—apparently, he’s finished three PhDs., and is being considered for the FBI even though he’s technically too young to even apply. He’d never be like you, struggling to get past the first interview. No, he’s too brilliant for that.

He looks up from his book as you pad through the halls. Dim light softens the gaunt angles of his face, making him almost handsome. He smiles, and the illusion is gone, replaced by the reality of what he is: a boy still fumbling about how to be a man.

“You’re back,” his voice is soft as he closes the book—some Italian writer you remember reading for a literature class.

You walk past him, grabbing a glass. “Yeah. Why are you still up?”

“Couldn’t sleep,” he says, training his eyes on the floor, but not before you catch his gaze lingering at your bare legs. “It’s so quiet around here.”

Right. He still lives in the city where, even in the dead of night, there’s an undercurrent of sound. Still accustomed to the slight hum, the pulse that lets you know there are other people awake around you, doing night shifts, or partying, or making love. Here in the quiet suburbs, with the strict homeowner’s association, a car revving down the street would be the cause for a noise complaint.

“Hm,” you gulp your water, “Should’ve come with me.”

“I didn’t want to intrude on you and your friends.” he replies, eyes flickering back to you. Clear amber, even in the dim light, “I hope you had fun, though.”

Try as you might, you can’t hate the guy. He’s much too earnest, too bumbling to ever be of any real danger. Besides, he’s stuck here just as much as you are, into this stupid tableau of family values your parents have forced upon you. Your resentment would only be wasted on him, especially since his resentment is just as obvious.

So you flash him a smile, lips reflective and mimicking wetness thanks to the lipgloss, “I did, thanks. How’s your book?”

He doesn’t answer right away, eyes trained on your mouth.

“Spencer?”

“Oh, it’s good,” he turns his gaze back to his copy, old and worn, with papers sticking out of them, “I’ve read it before, I’m just reading through my annotations.”

“Ah,” you nod. Of course he’s the type to annotate. And reread said annotations. You walk closer, leaning against the table beside him. The way his eyes dart down your bare legs, not in full display, within touching distance, fills your mind with dangerous thoughts. So you steer the conversation that way, pressing his buttons ever so slightly, “Sorry you’re stuck here by the way. Could’ve been out getting laid at D.C.”

He shakes his head, a self deprecating smirk tilting at his lips. “I’m not—that’s not really my thing.”

“No?”

“Girls don’t really find me appealing.” he mumbles, risking another glance at your legs. You wait for the usual self pitying speech, the one with underlying anger and misogyny, but it doesn’t come. He simply looks wistful.

You find yourself filled with genuine intrigue, “No?”

It’s interesting how the same word could carry such a different meaning with the slightest shift in inflection. Spencer seems to pick up on the softness of your voice.

“No, I don’t really—I spend most of my time reading.” he tells you.

“Well, maybe if you didn’t spend your time holed up in isolation,” your finger touches his chin, tilting it up to meet you. A strange sense of power fills your stomach as you watch his pupils dilate. “You’d find someone.”

You have a plethora of fucked up things upon which you can place the blame for why you do the next thing—your life not going the way you want it, the growing resentment for this entire holiday, your alcohol addled state of mind. That’s a problem you’ll figure out in the morning. Right now, you’re leaning in to kiss him. Your lips are sticky against his dry ones, palms cupping his jaw as you move your lips gently.

For a moment, you’re afraid you’ve misread the signals—he’s rigid, as though frozen by the permeating frigidity of the house. You consider pulling away, but then he is kissing you back. Slowly, at first, matching your pace, but then your tongue darts out to drag across the seam of his lips, mouth parting, and suddenly he’s moving with desperation. Kissing you as if he intends to meld your mouths together, making the prettiest little noises from the back of his throat.

There’s little time to think, not when there’s so much resentment and frustrations pouring out of both of you and into the kiss. He’s trying to keep up with your anger, but inexperience makes him uncoordinated. It’s sloppy and just on the edge of painful, clashing teeth and tongues poking harshly into crevices, not with the intention to explore but to take.

When you tug at his pants, he pulls back, holding onto your hips like you’re some sort of lifeline. “W-we shouldn’t,” he pants.

“No?” you press your palm on his crotch, raising a brow at the obvious erection hiding beneath the fabric.

He moans, eyes squeezing shut. “This is wrong, you’re drunk and—and my step sister.”

“I’m not drunk,” you mumble, moving to straddle his lap, dress hiking up to your hips and giving him a full view of your legs. Your cunt goes directly over his crotch. Only a few scraps of fabric separate you, and the thought makes you moan, makes you nip at his lower lip. He stiffens in response, face bright red.

“At least deny the step sister part,” he complains, resting his forehead against yours.

You don’t have anything to counter it, at least not with words, so instead you move your hips over the spot where you’ve settled. A moan trembles from his lips as you grind on his crotch, seeking friction from the growing bulge. You swallow the sound with another kiss, and this time he doesn’t fight it.

“It doesn’t count,” you say in between kisses, hands tangling in his hair, “If we don’t actually fuck.”

He laughs, breathless and disbelieving, his breath warm on the skin of your jaw where he’s begun trailing kisses. “That makes absolutely no sense.”

“Yes, it does.” you insist, grinding your hips on his crotch, moaning as the thin lace of your panties grow soaked with your arousal, making the friction feel that much sweeter. “Makes perfect sense. Perfectly logical. It’s just masturbating then.”

Spencer is whimpering into your neck, large hands holding your waist to keep you balanced on his lap. “That’s still wrong.”

“Oh please, don’t act like you haven’t been jerking off to the thought of me.” That’s a risky sentence; you’re not actually sure. But with the way his hips jerk up into you, you realize he has done it. Lowering your voice, you lean in and bite his ear, rocking your hips into a rhythm that mimics the movements of sex. “You have, haven’t you? That’s why you spend all that time alone in your room?”

“I—fuck,” he groans, nails digging into your hips as he ruts his hips up to match you, “Yes. Yes, yes, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize, Spencer.” you moan, arms wrapping around his neck. “God, this feels so good.” Pleasure courses through your veins, heightened by the alcohol and the fact that neither of you shouldn’t be doing this. Beneath you, the chair he’s sitting on scrapes on the kitchen floor, creaking slightly from your rocking bodies.

“Yeah,” he groans, teeth clamping around the sensitive part of your throat. You hiss at the sting, grinding down on his erection harder, an action that sends his body into a fit of tremors, stiffening and then shuddering as he muffles his moans against your skin.

He’s coming, you realize, and the fact makes you go harder, eager to chase your own orgasm. His length is still rock hard, easy to rub your sensitive clit on it to find stimulation, and soon, you’re quivering on top of him as the pleasure finally snaps and overtakes your body.

He holds you tightly to him, arms around your waist as you try to regain your breaths. “W-we can’t do this again.” he whispers, voice hoarse, arms trembling despite their tight grip on you.

“Right,” you murmur, gingerly climbing off his lap, “Just this once, never again.”

His arms linger, wanting to keep you against him longer despite every brain cell yelling at him about goodness and morality and legal complexities. Reluctantly, he lets go.

You regard him, strangely sober after such a high. Cheeks flushed, a stain at his crotch, the very picture of ruin. With a smile, you bend down and kiss the corner of his mouth. “Keep this between us?”

“Of course.”

You make two promises that night. Only one of them is kept.

#spencer reid fan fiction #spencer reid x you #spencer reid smut #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid angst #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid x y/n #dead dove do not eat #dddne #dead dove fic #spencer reid fan fic #spencer reid x you smut #spencer reid x reader smut #spencer reid smangst #✒️ penned by dove #stepbrother!spencer reid

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lieslab · 2 days ago

Text

Bad idea, right?

꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎ ꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎

Pairing: Og8 X gn reader

Summary: Your walk home from work is interrupted by a single stranger's harassment.

Genre: Stranger AU

Word Count: 2k

Trigger warning: Harassment/assault from a creepy stranger

A/N: Every time I write a request, an angel gains their wings. This one is no different. They are all here, requestee. Dramatic, sarcastic, and as chaotic as they always are.

_ _ _

Walking home after dark wasn’t your ideal situation, but what more could you do? You didn’t want to cover the extra shifts for your coworker, but lately, you were saving up for your next big purchase. Picking up a few spare hours, it’d be extra money in your savings account.

So after hesitating and contemplating, you finally agreed. That occurred at the beginning of the week and here you were on a Friday night. Beneath the neon lights, you thought you were safe. Cars plowed down the main city strip.

Neon headlights and signs scattered throughout the area. This late, most businesses were closed. A lot of the ones remaining open and lit up, they were businesses you weren’t interested in stepping in. You worked over fifty hours this week and it caught up quickly.

The more you walked, the more you wanted to shut your eyes and plop down on the ground, but you couldn’t. Not yet. You still had to go down this street and turn left. Take another right half-way down and then you’d be at your apartment complex. That didn’t count all the stairs you’d have to travel. Last you knew, the elevator wasn’t working.

Neon lights reflected in water puddles. The ozone tickled your nose and clung to the atmosphere. Rain stopped trickling from the sky almost two hours ago, but it didn’t dry up right away. It’d take hours before the puddles would disappear.

Along your shoulder, you kept your bag with you. You should have taken your car and you would have, if you hadn’t decided to ditch looking at the weather report this morning. You thought the fresh spring air would rejuvenate your exhausted body. It’d help you push through a final work day and it did, but now, you craved the simplicity of a car. You would have already been home.

Instead, you wandered the outskirts of Seoul. Most people’s night activities occurred further in the city. More businesses closed early here. You kept walking and walking, trying to ignore the shiver that ran through your body when a puddle of cold water splashed a sliver of your bare ankle.

“Excuse me?”

You kept walking, not paying much attention. The moment your head hit the cold pillow, you knew you’d be out like a light. Your legs were exhausted and every joint ached.

“Hey, excuse me! Excuse me!” The voice grew louder and footsteps rushed behind you.

You spun around, unsure of the person in front of you. “Excuse me,” he tried again. He reached out with a hand and cupped your shoulder. “Hello, there.”

You stepped back, pulling away. “I’m sorry. Can I help you?” Your eyes met his, trying to identify the features. Half-moon eyes, a sharpened nose, and soft jawline.

Tendrils of dark hair sat beneath a black beanie. Your lack of contact against his hand caused him to frown, but it didn’t stop him from trying again. When it happened, you squeaked, but didn’t pull away.

“I’ve been looking for someone like you. Sorry to interrupt your evening stroll, but you-” His eyes started to creep down your body. “You look just like my type, if you know what I mean.” He chuckled, squeezing your shoulder a little tighter.

“I’m sorry, but I’m not interested in a relationship right now.” You tried to tug away, but his fingers didn’t release the cotton fabric between his fingers.

“Where do you think you’re going? Come on. Why not give me a chance, hmm?” He leaned forward. The scent of tobacco hit your face and you tried to pull away again.

He scowled and jerked you closer. “Why can’t you just-”

“Hey, there you are! We’ve been trying to find you for the past twenty minutes! This isn’t the street we told you to meet us on.”

Multiple footsteps sent your heart plummeting down into your stomach. You didn’t know this voice. You didn’t like the footsteps. Silhouettes expanded around each side of your body like a pack of wolves.

A hand reached over your shoulder and you stiffened. A man you couldn’t identify stood by your side. A large muscular form slung around your shoulders. “And who are you?” He kept his fingers gently wrapped around the side of your arm, trying not to touch your chest.

“If you were taken, why didn’t you just say that?” The man glared and stepped back. “If I would have known you were a slut, I wouldn’t have wasted my time.”

“Excuse me?” Another voice uttered.

“Get the fuck out of here, mate.”

Grumbles fell from beneath the guy’s breath. He stormed off, disappearing into the neon lights. Curses and huffs followed him down the street. He retreated around a distant corner with his tail between his legs.

The moment he disappeared from your view, bodies moved. The warmth around your shoulder disappeared and multiple bodies clustered around you. Soft brown eyes found your eyes first. “Are you okay? I’m sorry I touched you. That guy is a total creep and being your boyfriend was the first thing I thought of.”

“He didn’t mean to hurt you, really. Binnie couldn’t hurt a fly. He might have all these muscles, but he’s harmless.” Felix reached up, instinctively cupping and gently kneading the burly muscles peeking out of Changbin’s compression shirt.

“He could hurt the contents of your fridge,” Seungmin mumbled behind them.

Minho leaned over and sacked him across the back of his head.

“Hey! What the hell was that for?”

“Did he touch you?” Another guy asked. “Should we call the cops and report him? Just say the words and we’ll get them over here.”

You finally found your words after a few moments. “Thank you. You frightened me when you first appeared. I didn’t know if you were here to help me, or harm me.” Your lips quipped up in an appreciative smile and you ducked your head in a slight bow. “Seriously, thank you.”

“That man is such a dickhead. He had no right to grab you like that. We saw the whole thing from our cars over there.” Han gestured over to two cars parked along the side of a street. “You’re totally out of his league.”

Your cheeks went red, but it hid behind the night’s darkness. The only thing that saved you happened to be the brief patch of darkness you found yourself in. Before you could respond, another voice caught up with you.

“What are you doing out here this late alone, anyway? Most people out at this hour are with groups, or a friend.” Minho stepped forward, scanning you for injuries. “Is your shoulder alright? He grabbed it pretty hard.”

“It’ll probably be bruised, but I’ll manage.”

“Do you want to come with us? We’re going to a cafe just down a few buildings. They recently extended their hours until midnight. We’ve been dying for an iced drink all day.”

“Ugh, yes!” Hyunjin threw his head back and tossed his hands up into the air. “I’ve been so ready for this! If you want to come with us, I’ll pay for your drink. It won’t be tampered with. I’ll let the barista hand it to you.”

“You don’t even know me.”

“You’re right, but we don’t want you to suffer either. You kinda seem like an idiot, no offense. Seriously, who goes out this late at night?”

Jeongin jammed an elbow into Seungmin’s ribs. “Shut up!”

“I was staying at work late and I’m on my way back to my apartment complex.”

“Oh, wow. You really are stupid. I was just joking, but why would you tell someone where you were coming from and going? Haven’t you heard of stranger danger?”

“I-”

“Seungmin, stop it!” Jeongin elbowed him again. “Why can’t you behave for five minutes?”

“Suck my di-”

“Enough!” Chan snapped at them. He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Sorry about them. We’re all wound up from our dance practice. They’ve been a mess all day.”

“That’s right, big guy. Only because you denied our ice drink run this morning. You and your stick up your ass. ‘Oh no, we can all wait until tonight.’” Seungmin mocked him and stuck out his tongue in Chan’s direction. “We all might be dead by tonight.”

“That’s a little dramatic, the cafe is right there.” Han pointed to a lit up building in the distance.

“You wanna be the first to die?”

“Channie, hyung! Tell him to stop it!”

“The old man can’t save you with those freshly sprained joints of his.”

Chan ran his hands over his face. “God, I wish I had a cane, so I could beat them with it sometimes.”

“That’s child abuse, grandpa.”

“And when I choke you with that cane, it’ll be called fucking around and finding out! Stand there and shut up!” Minho took over. “So back to the point, would you like to come with us?”

“We don’t bite,” Felix sent you a smile. “We might sound overwhelming, but we’re innocent. You might have heard of us. We’re the k-pop group, Stray Kids. You’re safe with us. Kidnapping you would create a Dispatch article and we can’t afford to lose our reputation like that.”

“Oh, says you. Donatella told me that if anyone was rude to me, I should tell them to fuck off and go straight to-”

“Manners!” Chan snapped. “At this point, I’m going to need vodka in my iced coffee.”

“Might as well. You already know they put those monster energy drinks in the espressos.”

Chan’s head slumped defeatedly. Minho leaned over and patted his back. “There, there, it’s okay. Seriously, come with us, so we know that creep leaves you alone. We’ll walk you to your complex building, or wait until you can have a friend pick you up.”

“Yeah, please?” Felix pulled away from Changbin’s arm. “It’ll be really fun and we love getting to know new people.”

“Actually, I can buy your drink to make up for touching you. It’s been a bit and I still feel awful. Next time this happens, I’ll just punch the person straight in the jaw.”

“Hell yeah, Binnie!” Felix spun around and missed a high-five between them. Before Changbin could attempt again, he spun back to you. “Please? We’ll be on our best behavior from now on, right, Seungmin?”

“You’re asking a lot, but I suppose I’ll try.”

“Um, yeah. Sure, I guess.” You shifted, trying to get comfortable. “Stray Kids, huh? I’m pretty sure I’ve heard of you, but I don’t know much about you.”

“We get to create a new fan!” Han rushed forward, almost trampling Felix. “Okay, so back in 2017, we were all trainees at JYP and-”

You hesitated, but slowly followed him. Along the sidewalk, the rest of the guys trickled around you. They each poked in at different times, explaining their debut and all the memorable moments.

When Hyunjin opened the door for you, you stepped into the cafe. Dim lights, the scent of pastries, and ground coffee beans. Espressos poured. Coffee pots brewed. Only two people sat at the distant wooden tables.

You took your drink when the barista handed it to you. As you sipped, the rest of the guys continued the story. Leading you to a table, you forgot about why you were there to begin with.

The beginning of Stray Kids and the start of their friendship with you.

| ♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡ | ♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡ | ♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡ |

Taglist: @lia-linny @seungnishi @stellasays45 @emilyywhyy @rockstarkkami @flightlessackerman @inlovewithstraykids @velvetmoonlght @chrizrizz @ari-hwanggg @m-325

Masterlist

Taglist and inbox rules

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rhiannonsknife · 1 day ago

Note

French-Canadian Shauna Shipman who has a particularly hard game, if seeing her become sloppy due to her anger on the field wasn’t enough, you can hear it in the way she mutters to herself in French, the way she huffs and puffs, finding herself at your side and complaining about how that team “100% cheated”.

And if that still was not enough, you could feel it. The little signs she always gave of what would occur that night. Her hands somehow on you: gripping onto your shoulder as she kisses her teeth and walks off the field, getting you to sit in the front after a tense goodbye with Jackie who stays oblivious to what you and her best friend are about to do.

Shauna’s hand finds your knee once you park at somewhere notably not your house and her eyes lock on yours. Shes at least cooled a little now, but there’s definitely a different kind of heat behind her gaze, one that takes you both tumbling out of her car, and through the front door.

It was routine, now. Win or lose, you’d find yourself next to Shauna the next morning, if it was for nefarious reasons or genuinely just to feel her company next to you.

That’s where you find yourself now, tangled up with Shauna Shipman in her way too creaky bed and with your shirt being pulled up, off of you and Shauna scrounging for the strap, more French falling from her lips as she finally finds it and pulls herself up with box in hand, momentarily happy with herself.

- Season 3 thoughts annon. (Note: not proof read and Im not a writer, I tried to make it clear but as long as it helps thats great. I don’t mind if you don’t reply or dont take this direction if you don’t think it fits, there’s no pressure! Have a great day)

shoutout to my best friend for helping me with the french…explaining the situation to her was interesting…nsfw content, obviously, so mdni.

shauna’s pissed.

you could tell before she walked off the field: her passes got sloppier the longer the game dragged on, and she mouthed off at the ref without even trying to hide it. her fists clenched, and her muttering slipped from english to french the angrier she got.

even through the noise, you could hear her from the stands: “c’est quoi cette merde…” she muttered for the third time, jogging past.

when the game ends, shauna storms off the field, her mouth already forming a new complaint as her fingers catch your shoulder in passing.

you barely catch a glimpse of jackie still making her way toward the bench, holding her captain’s posture, or the rest of the team because shauna is already dragging you off with a muttered, “viens-t’en.”

she doesn’t say anything else, not until you pull up to her house and her hand lands on your knee, the heat of her palm burning through the denim.

her cheeks are flushed, her lip caught between her teeth, jaw ticking. shauna’s thumb rubs a slow circle over your thigh.

she still won’t say a word, not in english, not in french.

the next thing you know, you’re stumbling out of the car like you’ve been lit on fire, her hoodie sleeve caught in your hand, your mouths fused together in the moment it takes to get through the front door.

you somehow end up tangled in the too-narrow sheets of her too-creaky bed, half-dressed and breathless, with shauna still smelling of sweat from the previous game.

she’s all over you before you even realize she’s taken her cleats off.

your shirt is tugged up over your head, tossed across the room whilst her fingers knead your breasts through your bra, her mouth catching yours in another kiss.

she’s cursing again, muttering angry french phrases into your mouth. “putain, où est-ce que je l’ai mis…” shauna mutters, pulling away just long enough to dig under the bed.

you watch her, chest rising and falling as shauna holds you in place. she lets out a victorious little “ha!” when she finds it: the strap, stored underneath the bed frame. once she’s got the harness and the dildo in her grip, she climbs back over you.

the rest of it comes together in pieces; french slurred into your skin. her mouth on your shoulder. her fingers adjusting the harness, hips fitting into the space between yours until you feel the head on her cock against yourself.

“regarde-moi”

you never learned french properly. with shauna, you’ve picked up just enough to understand what she wants from you and look up at her.

shauna’s hands push your legs apart harshly, no room left for the “softness” that she tried so hard to maintain on the field. you reach for her waist to ground her, yet her hand catches your thigh, thumbs digging in a little as she huffs through her nose, nostrils flaring.

“tu m’as manqué,” she mutters, her mouth grazing the edge of your jaw. “t’as pas idée…toute la journée.” on the last word, shauna’s hips piston forward and she pushes the strap into you to the hilt, drawing a ragged moan from the back of your throat at the sudden stretch.

shauna knows your body too well for it to ever be uncomfortable. she knows this particular strap, too. how it fills you just enough, how your body takes to it without needing much preparation. more than anything, she knows you enjoy it this way, when she’s wound tight from the day, needing somewhere to pour all that pent up energy. you always take it.

she groans like she just shoved her real cock into your cunt and feels your tight walls clenching around her length now that she’s all the way inside. her hips roll, shallow and testing as she drops her forehead to yours, panting.

you clutch at shauna’s waist, the only thing you can still hold onto through the relentless pace she immediately sets. all you can really do is take it, lay back and take it, as shauna fucks you into the mattress. she is heaving against your skin, her grip on your thighs keeping you wide open.

she is no longer bothering with translations either, just grunting barely coherent french against your skin as she expertly grinds, her length hitting your g-spot every time she bottoms out.

“tu m’as regardée depuis les gradins comme si t’en savais rien- comme si t’étais pas là hier soir, dans mon lit, en train de-” the sentence morphs into a groan, which hardly matters, considering you don’t understand most of what she’s saying anyway.

shauna thrusts again. you gasp, your head falling back against the pillows.

“tourne-toi,” she urges suddenly. her hand finds your shoulder, gives it a firm tug. “allez, tourne-toi.”

too fucked out to think straight, you hesitate and shauna groans impatiently. “turn around, baby,” she snaps, switching to english. “hands and knees”

immediately, you scramble to obey, trying to catch your breath as the mattress shifts under your shared weight. from behind, shauna makes a sound bordering on a whimper, followed by the rustling of fabric as she gets into position. “comme ça,” she praises, her eyes ranking over your arched back. “just like that,”

her fingers snake around your hip, the others spread across your lower back, holding you there when she fills you again in one fluid motion. you’re so wet that she slides right in.

the full length of the toy is sinking into you now and your jaw goes slack at the sheer force behind her thrusts, the depths she’s reaching inside. “tellement bonne pour moi,” shauna grits out through her teeth, the sound of your wetness squelching muffling her words.

your mouth parts to ask what it means, but it turns into another moan as her hips start to roll again and your elbows nearly give out under the intense sensations.

“je peux pas penser, quand t’es là…je peux pas- fuck! je te veux tout le temps, tu comprends?” shauna’s voice cracks.

you can’t answer anyway, not when she’s fucking you like this, deep and angry and so good your eyes roll to the back of your hand whilst she ruts into you. there’s a tension building low in your belly, pulled from the grind of her body against yours.

blindly, you reach behind yourself, fingertips brushing the outside of her thigh. shauna catches your wrist mid-motion and presses your hand back down into the mattress. her rhythm never falters.

“là. reste là.” she instructs. “je veux que tu jouisses pour moi”

you don’t need the translation for that part, familiar enough with the command, and rock back against her, fucking yourself on her strap. your body understands even if your brain struggles to keep up.

shauna’s nails dig into your waist, your ass slapping against her thighs rhythmically. all the anger she couldn’t get out on the field is bleeding into every deep thrust.

eventually, her body folds over yours, the full weight of her pressing you down into the mattress. you’re sandwiched between the push of her chest against your back and the sheets, the leather of her harness creaking with each rut. underneath you, the blankets are twisted, damp with sweat and hot with friction. shauna buries her face against the curve of your neck, mouthing at the skin and muttering something feverish in french you can’t make out.

“bouge les hanches,” she instructs once. “let me feel you.” even when you move, shauna matches your rhythm greedily. the bed creaks like it might give out. your thighs ache. her sweat mixes with yours, slick where her skin drags across your back.

“t’es parfaite,” shauna pants. “so fucking perfect for me”

she moves one hand from your waist to your chest, sliding it up until it rests just below your throat, fingers spread wide. her thumb brushes your pulse, and you can feel how hard hers is hammering in her wrist, still so close behind you, pressed in deep.

her lips graze the shell of your ear. “encore…” she rasps. “just a little more.”

you give it to her.

#shauna shipman Ღ #˙🔞 ̟ !! mdni #shauna shipman x reader #shauna shipman x female reader #shauna shipman x you #yellowjackets #yellowjackets x reader #yellowjackets x female reader #yellowjackets x you

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