#these are all sounding like rlly good fic ideas

[yutarot]

1999. l.mk

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ husband!mark, assassin au, romance, enemies to lovers

wc. 10k

warnings. violence, suggestive, lots of fighting, they literally spend half the fic tryna kill eachother idk, mention of alcohol, guns, angst, heavily inspired by +82 pressin and mr and mrs smith (2005)

synopsis. after accidentally nearly killing another assassin, you both get assigned the task of taking eachother out. but what happens when the assassin you’re after turns out to be a lot closer to you than you had ever expected? do you ignore your feelings? or do you listen to your heart, risking both of your lives in the process.

notes — hiii!! i rlly enjoyed writing this it was sooo much fun. i sorta got this idea after seeing the mv for +82 pressin and ive been wanting to write something based on mr and mrs smith for a whileee so it sorta worked perfectly in my head. i hope u enjoy!!! (p.s. thank u @sungbites for being my writing motivation hehe love u)

it’s a night like all the rest, darkness falling through the window like a shadow with nowhere to go: lost, helpless. you’ve always liked night-time, enjoyed the tranquility of the silent hours as thoughts pass through your mind with no clear destination. you lie there, a moment of peace stilling within you as you slowly begin to fall into slumber. 

your peace is cut short, all tranquility lost when a voice from beside you arises. ‘babe, can you turn off the light please?’

you roll your eyes in a secretive protest before turning to face your husband, a smile now plastered on your face. 

‘of course, honey.’

you hate mark. every single moment of every day, you spend each waking hour questioning yourself of why you ever married him. whether in detestation or disgust, you hate him. but your marriage isn't based on love or hate, so you do what you must: you hide it, conceal your hate behind joyful smiles and the blissful art of routine. after all, you’re good at keeping secrets.

abruptly, he rolls back over to face away from you and you do the same.

‘goodnight, babe.’ he murmurs.

‘goodnight.’

you don’t acknowledge each other again, drifting to sleep in nothing but your own mind.

a night like all the rest. 

each morning is always the same: wake up at 7, cook breakfast at 7:30, wave off your husband as he leaves for work at 8, always accompanied by a quick kiss as he walks through the door, and each morning you suppress your hatred just as much as the last. this morning was no different.

as you sit at the dining table, your breakfast laid out before you, you both eat in silence. this is how it’s always been, this marriage, days of simple routine and empty discussion. you don’t know anything about him, not really. yes, you know where he grew up, what movies he likes, what his favourite kind of bread is, but you don’t know what goes on in his mind. evidently, you're okay with that, because it means that he doesn’t need to know what goes on in yours. it’s a marriage of mutuality, an understanding that your life is your life, and weirdly neither of you question it. neither of you question if the love is fake, or if it just isn’t there at all.

however, there’s one, tiny detail which you know you’ll never share with him, a side of your life untouched, undisturbed. on the outside, you’re the symbol of a perfect housewife, compliant, clean and kept, staying home during the day whilst he’s out at work, tidying the furniture and cooking up dinner by the time he gets home. that’s all he sees, thats all he knows. but what he doesn’t know, is that you’re none of that, not a single bit. 

after finishing your breakfast and placing down your cutlery, you look up at your husband. 

‘delicious, sweetheart, just like always.’ he says, reaching for a napkin to wipe the corner of his mouth. he always did sound patronising when he compliments your cooking, but you give him the benefit of the doubt; its the only thing, besides your looks, that he can compliment you for. it's the only talent you show him.

you feign a smile in response, ‘i know just how you like it.’

‘you do.’ he grins back.

you’re not sure how much longer you can keep up this act, pretending like you’re in a happy marriage, and you wonder how much longer he can do the same. but you have to, you’ve done it for the past four years, you can suffer the restriction of a few more. 

all for the sake of concealment.

mark gets up from his seat at the table, ‘i had better go, baby, i can't be late; we had this huge data crash at work last night, and there’s lots to fix.’

‘of course, honey. i'll make your favourite for you tonight.’ you lean in to give him a kiss on the cheek as you hand him his jacket, waving him out the door. 

its tiring, the act of deception. you watch as his car reverses off of the drive of your house before driving around the corner. you wait a few moments, making sure he really is and truly gone out of your sight. or more importantly, you're out of his.

and once you are, your real day begins. 

untying the apron around your waist, you walk steadily and with purpose, climbing the stairs and walking into the room which you call your closet. only it's not only a closet, not really.

pulling back a few items of clothing, you expose the keypay at the back of the room, pressing in the passcode. 

0417. the date you got married. 

the lock springs open, giving you access to your secret, and highly personal safe.

as always, laid inside are two items of significant importance.

your work phone, and a gun. 

you pocket the gun before picking up the phone and selecting the first number in your phone book. 

‘agency.’

you hold the phone to your ear, it doesn’t even ring once before the other end picks up; they expect your call, just as they do each morning. 

‘i am now alone, will be there in 15.’ you speak, before hanging up and placing the phone in your other back pocket. 

the agency is a grand, foreboding building, dark shadows cascading between its outer walls and falling over its glass panels like a shroud. you walk inside, scanning your keycard through the main entrance before making your way to the front desk.

‘yn lee.’ you recite your name. ‘im clocking in.’

the receptionist nods. ‘mrs K wants to see you in her office.’

‘what for?’ you ask. 

the receptionist shrugs, implying that whatever your boss wants you for is confidential, and therefore, important.

after a quick journey to the 10th floor via the elevator, you make your way through the white lined corridor, the shiny black marble at your feet causing each step to echo, bouncing off every wall as you step further and further towards the door looming ahead of you. 

you knock the door twice before she calls for you to come inside, which you do so quickly, closing it behind you. 

she motions for you to sit down, her short, black and perfectly cut hair framing her face and emphasising the gap between her neck and the shoulders of her pristine, grey suit. 

you sit, looking at the woman in the desk in front of you as she speaks. 

‘it’s an interesting life you lead, agent lee.’ she says, head tilting to the side. 

presuming she’s talking about the faux relationship with your husband, you respond quickly. ‘i’d get lonely in that house by myself.’

‘that’s not what i'm implying.’

oh?

she speaks again, standing from her desk as she does so.

‘this job; you’ve been a level 2 agent with us for four years, and despite countless attempts at recruiting you for level 1, you’ve always declined. why is that?’

you take a moment to ponder her question, to truly decipher what she's asking of you. 

‘i'm comfortable.’ you reply. 

‘nothing about this job is comfortable.’

she’s right. your job is to kill. being a level 1 just means you have to do it alone, estranged from working in groups, harder jobs and more secretive clients. you stay silent as she continues. 

‘the reason i wanted you here, mrs lee, is because our agency has discovered an almost identical rival agency in the market. same jobs, same asking price and same level agents. what i mean, in short, is that we now have competition, and that doesn’t happen by coincidence.’

‘you think someone’s leaking intel to a rival agency?’

‘not think, know.’ the red of her lips twist into a scorn of seriousness, as if shes trying to intimidate you. 

‘and you think i have something to do with it?’ you ask, disbelief briefly cascading over your thoughts. 

she sits back down behind her desk, reaching for a drawer and shuffling through files and files of paper. 

‘quite the contrary.’ she replies, and you look at her in confusion before she continues. ‘actually, you're one of the few that i know don't have something to do with it.’

finishing her sentence, she slides an envelope across the desk, nodding for you to take it. 

she gets back up from her desk, looking you directly in your eyes, a shift of tone in the air around you.

‘once i've left the room, you’re going to open the envelope, mrs lee. i have two armed gunmen outside the door, under my command, waiting for you to leave. think of it as a little test of what that envelope contains. and, agent lee?’

you don't say a word, looking back at her to continue.

‘this time, i'm not asking.’

her smile is sickening. but you have no time to reproach her before she's out of the room, leaving you with nothing but the cold envelope in your hands and the ever-impending threat of death which falls over you. 

after your limited amount of time, frozen in your seat, alone in your bosses office, your mind finally goes back to the envelope in your hand. you open it, pulling out the contents inside. your mind is a state of anger; in your hand lies two pieces of paper, one, a picture of a man in his late 50’s, a cool, silver moustache lining his lip, and one, a letter, addressed directly to you. 

agent 1270.

with this letter, i have enclosed a portrait of your first job as a level 1 agent. configurations confirmed him a regular gambler at the artemis casino on 34th street. don’t fuck this up. if you do, i won't hesitate to get rid of you; we have a lot on the line. 

K. 

p.s. my gunmen are inpatient. 

moments after you even get a chance to finish the last word of the letter, two men in black suits burst through the door of the office. you roll under the desk, pocketing both items as gunshots ring out around you. 

‘shit.’ you hiss, reaching for the gun in your back pocket. with no time to waste, you emerge from the side of the desk, aiming your gun at the head of the man furthest to you, using your momentum to swing your heel swiftly into the closest man's chest as your first bullet flies through the air. with one man down and the other one winded on the floor, you take your opportunity, walking up to him as he struggles to breathe. 

you kick the gun out of his hand. 

‘why is she doing this? why make me a level 1 agent?’ you ask, the gun pointed towards the man below you. 

he gasps for air, shaking his head. with nothing but raw frustration and pent up hatred at the woman forcing you to do this, you pull the trigger. 

anger boils within you, years of working for the agency and never have you stooped so low as to have been forced to kill one of your own. she’s testing you, seeing what you can do, and you’re going to find out why.

you find your way to elevator, pressing the button for the 5th floor. checking your freshly ironed suit for any specks of blood or evidence of your previous fight, you step out of the elevator. you’re instantly met with the level 1 offices, people in suits everywhere, some sat at desks and some engaging with conversation. everyone notices you, but noone says a word. its a very private industry, the industry of assassination, no questions are asked and none are answered. 

you walk over to what looks like the main desk of the floor and the woman checks you in, showing you swiftly to your new office. the walls are a pristine white, with a glass desk and an illumination of light that's almost blinding. you set down the documents from K’s letter, examining the mans face. you don't know who he is, you never do, and it’s in your best interest not to care. all that matters is getting the job done, and under current circumstances, it matters more than ever. since, unlike before, it's not only the hidden identity from your husband that's on the line, but as is your life. 

you’re not sat at your desk for long, K’s threat looming over you. 

you check your watch. 3.14pm, exactly 14 minutes since the artemis casino opened its doors for the evening. tonight, you’ll make sure that someone will never leave them. 

after being assigned your own personal assistant, who you've learned to know as agent 4916, you request only three items for your plan to work smoothly and quickly. a dark red satin dress, a vial of poison and it’s respective antidote - not that you expect it to go wrong, but you can never assume the best in a job like yours. even so, you've never once failed a mission, and you were not about to take the risk of failing on the only mission where you don’t give yourself a backup plan; that’s what the knife strapped to your thigh is for.

you thank your assistant with a nod as you step into the taxi you ordered, covering your shoulders with a thick fur coat you acquired secretly from the evidence room. 

‘where are y’ headed?’ the taxi man asks, puffing an exhale of cigarette smoke out of the window. 

‘artemis casino, please.’

the man grins, ‘you a golddigger, huh?’

you roll your eyes, ‘im married.’ men like this disgust you, always assuming the worst of women. if only he knew. 

‘what does he do?’ he asks. it’s at this where your confidence is knocked; you can't exactly say ‘i dont know.’..

so instead you pause, waiting until the car comes to a halt outside the front of the casino before stepping out, replying back with a sly yet dismissive response as you pass him his money through the front window. 

‘none of your business.’

the casino is a lot busier than you had hoped, groups of old men and rich couples sauntering amongst the tables. there’s an indistinct mumble of voices, layering perfectly over the chime of jazz music, not enough to drown it out, but just enough to make you listen out for the instruments. 

you keep your mind fixated on the picture of the man you're looking for, but as you wander around, a sharp eye scanning all the faces, you spot him, sitting and smiling cruelly in a circle around a poker table. you label this as a perfect opportunity; there’s nothing like the emotion of overconfidence to blind a man's senses. 

walking over, you lean a hand on the back of his chair. 

‘that’s interesting.’ you say as you peak over his shoulder at his cards. 

you catch his attention as he looks up at you. 

you continue, ‘i won’t expose you,’ you giggle, feigning emotion comes natural to you now, ‘don’t worry.’ continuing your act, you walk off and head straight over to the bar. 

just as you planned, he walks after you. 

‘what are you playing at?’ he asks. you ignore him. 

the bartender looks at you expectantly, waiting for your order. 

‘vodka. neat.’ the bartender nods but the man beside you turns to you in disgust. 

you laugh at his reaction before catching the bartender's attention, ‘make that two.’ you say.

the man speaks up. ‘wai-’

‘unless.. this man can't handle his drink?’

he stops talking. 

after a moment of silence the bartender brings you your drinks.��

you stand up, your drink in hand. you’ve done this many times before and each is as flawless as the last. 

you walk around him, slowly, and as if unplanned, you trip, your drink flying straight across his blazer, soaking its expensive lining with the sweet stickiness of the clear liquid.

he stands up, a suppressed rage emerging from within him. 

‘oops,’ you say innocently, ‘here, have mine.’

he nods in reply. ‘leave it on the side.’ he says, before storming off to the bathroom to clean himself up. 

perfect.

it's then that you set the final action of your plan into place, it's then that you slip the poison into his drink. 

not wanting to be with him when the poison takes action, you hurry yourself out of view, climbing to the second balcony floor and placing yourself with perfect vision of the bar you were just at, the drink sitting there, a note you placed reading ‘bottoms up, pussy. i'll be watching’, tucked under the glass in attempts to urge him on. 

you watch for a minute, then two, and when it gets to the third, you begin to grow anxious. 

but it’s not the extent of time that makes your worry flutter; it's the sudden man sitting at the bar, at the exact seat where the glass is placed. 

the wrong man.

you can’t see the stranger's face, only the sharp outline of his back as he slumps over the drink, reading the note you placed under it.

you watch intently as he looks around, his face still under too much shadow to properly decipher his features. the shine of his all black suit glimmers from the point of his shoulders as he reaches for the drink. your stomach drops.

shit.

you stand up in vigour as his lips touch the glass. 

you were about to kill the wrong man. 

you were about to kill yourself. 

clenching your jaw with an abandonment of your mission, you stealthily follow the man from the bar as he clutches his stomach, breathing heavily as he swings himself into a bathroom cubicle. you stand outside the door, listening to his laboured breaths and the sudden bang as his body slumps over the toilet bowl. you can’t see him, but you decide suddenly that you can’t let him die, you can’t fuck up this job and kill the wrong guy, you’d look like a fool.

you slide the antidote under the door of the cubicle with your foot, hearing a breathless, pained whisper of ‘the fuck?’ from the other side, but you don't stick around to exchange pleasantries, not when you nearly killed the man. 

you turn to leave, but just as you take a step towards the main door of the bathroom, something on the floor catches your eye, something that the man had dropped in his haste to reach the cubicle. 

a business card.

you pick it up, slowly peeling it from the floor.

your face grows stern.

dread envelopes you. your legs grow weak, feeling as it tries to weigh you down.

on one side is a logo you know all too well, the rival agency your boss had warned you about. 

on the other side, one word and one number. 

agent 1999. 

the man you had nearly killed was another assassin.

an assassin from a rival agency.

and he had just fucked up your job. 

you’ve been sat at your dinner table in silence for the last ten minutes and mark hasn’t come home yet. part of you is relieved, not having to uphold your character as his wife under all the stress that you're under after failing your mission. however, there’s a part of you that’s waiting for him, the abruption in your daily routine throwing you off, despite how much you hate him. 

that’s when you hear the front door click shut, mark coming through to the dining room.

‘honey? what are you doing awake?’ he asks, setting down his briefcase, the tie to match his brown, tartan suit loose around his neck, top button undone. he looks dishevelled, whatever had made him late had ruined him.

you stand up, rubbing your eyes out of exhaustion. ‘you can’t just come home late like this.’

‘im sorry, baby. a lot happened at work, okay?’ he says, walking up to you. he leans forward to catch your eye contact. ‘some idiot sent me the wrong file and the whole network crashed.’

you nod, pushing in the dining table chair as you prepare to leave the room and go to bed. 

‘goodnight, yn.’

‘goodnight.’

you can’t help but feel that something is off. 

like usual, you wake up at 7, cook breakfast at 7:30 and wave your husband off as he leaves for work. each morning is the same, a list of routined actions you perform, a pretend life you wish you could lead. only this morning, you fear it could be your last. 

as you tread down the white hall of the 10th floor of the agency, eventually standing at your bosses door in anticipation, you knock. 

she calls you in and you shut the door behind you. there she sits, black bob swaying above her shoulders and thin, red lips pressed into a straight line of discontent. the bullet holes on the desk from yesterday still remain, a reminder of what your boss had promised would happen to you if you had failed to complete the job.

not only had you done that very thing but to make matters even worse, you had also accidentally held an attempt of assassination on a man from the rival agency.

‘good morning, agent lee.’ her voice is stern, deep.

you nod, taking a seat. 

‘you know why you're here? yes?’

you nod, not daring to say a word.

‘then i believe you understand the vitality of the situation we are now in because of your mistake.’

again, you nod. 

‘words, mrs lee.’ her voice raises, causing you to sit up in your seat.

‘yes.’

she nods, crossing one leg over the other. ‘good. then you shall be pleased to know that i'm giving you a chance to redeem yourself.’ 

your mind is going a million miles an hour, thoughts racing each other in a swirl of confusion. the perplexion must have been evident on your face as K begins to explain. ‘the agent that intercepted your mission is agent 1999 of the sparta agency. we have reason to believe that he is the source feeding our information to his agency, that’s how he knew you were going to be there.’

it all makes so much sense yet none at all. why would a random stranger pick up an unattended drink at a casino and drink it? unless..

a thought sparks in your mind. ‘you think he drank the vial on purpose?’

a small grin peaks at the corner of K’s upper lip before she continues. ‘he gambled that whoever was on the mission would have had an antidote on them. sparta agency aren’t to be messed with, agent lee, they will use any means to intercept our missions, and with this intel they are our biggest liability.’ she rises from her seat, walking to move over to her wall-panel window, scouring the view that lays beyond it. ‘after this, whoever agent 1999 is will most likely be given the task to kill you; they can’t risk the fact that you might know what he looks like.’

her back is still facing you as you reply. ‘but i don't know what he looks like, i didn’t see his face.’ 

she turns in your direction, a smirk which you haven’t seen before now plastering her features. ‘and he didn't see yours either. that’s why i'm giving you the task of taking him out, it’s a race of who can find and kill who first, if he’s smart, he’ll always be where you are, it only makes your job easier.’ 

to take out a criminal is one thing, but to take out a highly skilled assassin is another. you stay silent, conflict in your mind overwhelming you. you love your agency, and you love your job, but you fear that this task is nothing but fated suicide.

K steps back to behind her desk, sitting again to face you as she speaks. ‘if you do this, mrs lee, you would have regained my approval.’ she shuffles through the files on her desk, looking up at you through her brow at her next words. ‘not just anyone can take out two of my men with just a pistol and two bullets. i'm trusting you with this. you have 24 hours to complete the job.’

you check your watch, it’s 10:45 am.

12 hours.

12 hours to take out a high class, heavily skilled assassin. 

she really was testing you.

you waste absolutely no time deciding what you’re going to do, rushing to your office and calling for your assistant. 

‘give me whereabouts on agent 1999 of the sparta agency, i want all the information you can find.’ you say, and she nods before scurrying out the room. 

you’ve never questioned a kill before, knowing nothing but their faces, merciless in all aspects. but there’s something incredibly ironic about this one, something that you’ve never had to deal with before.

he’s just like you. 

your assistant returns and you sort through the printed files until you find his personal profile. like the rest of your jobs, you expect to see his face, printed in the top corner, usually a CCTV picture or a mugshot if you're lucky. but much to your surprise, you’re faced with nothing but a grey square, a question mark placed in the middle, almost mocking your lack of knowledge.

you look up at your assistant, a brow raised.

‘there’s no record of what he looks like. not a trace.’ she says.

you nod, a forced sense of acceptance. this man knows what he’s doing. 

continuing to search the files, one catches your attention: his previous kills. 

671. 

‘he uses a revolver..’ you murmur to yourself. 

this fact, this small, minor detail, changes everything; revolvers are exceptionally loud guns. meaning almost each and every one of his kills would have been done in private, in basements, elevators.

if you want to lure him in, get him somewhere he will follow, you need to find somewhere private, somewhere you can confront him one on one. 

that’s when the perfect idea hits you.

you grab your car keys from your desk drawer, pocketing them in the inner pocket of your blazer. a motel, somewhere far enough from the city but somewhere close enough that he will follow you there. 

you’re just hoping that, right now, he’s sat outside your agency waiting for you to leave, waiting to follow you home. 

but you’re not going home. not today. 

your suspicions are correct when you reach the border of the city, a blacked out mercedes maintaining its speed a few cars behind you. you know it’s him, agent 1999, you don’t need to see his face to be sure.

you pull up to the first motel you see, the lack of cars in the parking lot signalling a perfect place for the job you're about to undertake.

before he can swing into the motel behind you, you step out the car, sprinting to the reception. 

you push open the door in eagerness, rushing to the front desk. the receptionist looks up upon hearing the bell on the door ring at your arrival.

‘one night. please.’ you say before sliding a $100 bill across the desk. ‘keep the change.’

the receptionist looks at you in disbelief as she hands you a key with the number 8 engraved on it. 

you waste no time, rushing round the corner to the stairwell. it’s just as you make it past the line of sight that you hear the reception bell ring, that agent 1999 has come through the front door. 

your curiosity is screaming at you to peek around the corner, to find out who this man is that you’ve been given the task of killing before he kills you. but you refrain, your urge to survive overwhelming you as you begin to climb the stairs, past room 6, past room 7 and past room 8. instead, you go to room 9, placing a gamble that it’s that room that the receptionist will assign him. 

you don’t move, don’t waver from your stance outside his door. 

not even as you hear the door to the stairwell open, not even as you hear the slow, antagonising echo of his footsteps.

not even as he comes around the corner.

fear. 

not the kind that paralyses you, but the kind that makes you regret. that’s what you feel when you see him, that’s what you feel when you look down the barrel of his gun: fear. 

but it’s not the gun that scares you.

it’s who's holding it. 

the assassin you’ve been hired to kill, the man who's been hunting you down, is none other than the man you had least expected it to be.

your husband..

you lock eyes with him, but you see none of his usual warmth, his usual empathy. all you see is the eyes of the man trying to kill you. 

‘mark.’ you breath, raising your gun at him, a mirror of his pose.

slightly, ever so slightly, you see him flinch as you say his name. he’s holding back. 

‘babe.’ he says, sarcasm lining his tone. ‘why aren’t you at home?’

a smile of annoyance lines your lips, eyes rolling. ‘could ask the same of you.’

you’re ever so aware of the guns you have pointed at each other. his eyes never leaving yours, he speaks again. ‘i have important business to attend to.’

of course you do, you think to yourself. 

its a pity you never liked him, never got to know him. atleast now, you understand why.

‘as do i.’ 

suddenly, gunshots blast through the air. 

amidst the confusion and fear of who shot who, you run to the door labelled ‘8’, turning the key and quickly running inside. but your attempts to shut mark out are quickly abandoned when he swiftly places his foot between the closing door and it’s frame.

you jump back, reaching in your back pocket for the small knife you stashed earlier, hiding around the corner of the room. he kicks the door open, standing in the doorway, gun still in hand. he walks in slowly, treading lightly as he scans the room with his aim. 

but just as he gets into the room, you stop him, grabbing his arms from behind him and twisting the gun out of his hand. 

he attempts to kick you off his back, mind increasingly aware of the knife you have placed to his throat.

hesitantly, he turns, putting his hands up. 

once you’re face to face, you take no time in tackling him. he grunts, the wind knocking right out of him as he hits the floor. 

straddling his waist, both of your faces are emotionless, void of any of the pretend love you were used to maintaining.

‘did you know?’ he grunts, breathless, eyes glancing slightly at the blade you have pressed to his throat. ‘did you know it was me?’

you push the knife closer to his skin and he winces. 

‘answer me, yn.’ his voice is hoarse, struggling to speak. 

you take a deep breath, deciding to tell him the truth. 

‘no.’ you say, but curiosity peaks in you again, and this time, you’re taking no chances at missing out. ‘did you?’

his jaw clenches.

with a sudden sense of energy, he kicks you, causing you to fall on top of him, your knife going slack in your hand as he knocks it to the side. he flips you both over in the process so that he’s now above you, taking a hold of both of your wrists. 

‘no,’ he says, anger lining his words. ‘well,’ he chuckles, ‘i knew one thing.’

you furrow your brows. 

he continues, ‘you’ve always hated me. i’ve always been able to see it in your eyes. you detest the thought of ever marrying me.’

you go to speak, but before you can reply, he cuts you off. 

‘i wouldn’t worry, it’s a mutual feeling.’

with that, you reciprocate his anger. all those years of marriage, of putting up with a man you hate in order to give yourself a sense of security, all of it, has come down to this. pushing him off of you, you crawl to his revolver, laid out across the other side of the room. 

your hands gain purchase to it, lifting it up to point at him. 

your finger rests on the trigger. he’s in perfect shot. there’s no one around, you would complete your mission and regain your boss's trust back. but somehow, something stops you. 

as you look into his eyes, the deep brown hue of his pupils looking at you in disgust and anger, you snap. 

you just can’t do it. 

because whilst his eyes may be looking at you in a new light, it’s those same eyes you have grown accustomed to seeing everyday. nearly every other set of eyes you see, looking back at you, you only get to see once before they’re closed forever, no one being granted the experience of ever viewing them again. but his, you’ve always known that, no matter what, you’d see them at the end of the day, that you’d wake up to them after every nightmare. 

you just don’t think that you could let them go. 

that you could let him go.  

he notices your hesitation, a hint of a smile now making it’s way to his features.

‘you can’t do it, can you?’

you stay silent, finger still hovering over the trigger. 

‘over five-hundred kills and now you’re hesitating.’ he taunts. 

you stay still, shaking with anger. ‘you’ve done your research.’

‘had to make sure i knew what i was dealing with. although, nothing could have prepared me for this.’ he laughs, as if this whole situation is funny to him. 

‘okay then,’ you say, lowering the gun. turning it in your palm, extending the handle out towards him. ‘kill me.’

he looks at you, a stern expression on his face, as he takes the gun from your hand. 

but what he’s not expecting is for you to put your palm to his shoulder, making him sit himself down on the bed as you climb to straddle his lap. 

he looks up at you, a mix of hatred and annoyance lining his features. slowly, you take his left wrist, guiding his hand to hold the small of your back. his eyes travel to the curve of your waist before looking back up. even slower, you take his right wrist, the one holding the gun, moving it so that the barrel presses firmly against your temple.

you let go of his wrists, the index finger of his left hand drawing circles on your skin, something he used to do years ago, in the age where you used to cuddle up to each other to watch movies. then, you accepted it because you had to make eachother think you loved the other. now, he’s doing it because he knows you don’t.

his face is close enough to yours now that you see the golden specks of his eyes as he looks at you, they swim in the pool of colour, drowning in the light that reflects off of them. 

gun still pressed to your temple, mark lets out a deep breath. ‘you really want this?’ he whispers. 

barely there, you nod, eyes falling to his lips. 

he chuckles, hand at your waist now tracing its way up to the back of your neck. 

his eyes flutter as he leans in. it's smooth, gentle but so incredibly angry as he kisses you. in all the years of your marriage, you’ve never kissed mark like this, never shown him enough emotion to be able to connect this deeply with him. your mind soars into a place of nothingness, beyond your world of killing and death, but it’s quickly brought back when you hear a sudden click from the pressure at your temple. 

the gun.

you pull away, marks face a look of irritation as his eyes travel between the empty gun and you.

he had tried to distract you. 

he had tried to kill you.

you slap the gun out of his hand before climbing off of him, dashing for the half open door. 

you hear his footsteps clamber after you, chasing you down the motel hall. sprinting down the stairs, knowing he’s behind you, you keep running and running and running. 

but it's not the fear of death that's urging you on, it’s the fear of knowing you didn’t have it in you to kill him.

and he did.

you didn’t go home to cook dinner that night, the image of his eyes on you scarring your memory, the feeling of his lips invading your mind. 

instead, you go home with nothing but one intention. 

this time you’re not going to let him distract you. this time you’re not going to let him leave. 

his eyes were not going to stop you. 

driving down your street, an invigorating anger consumes you. a resurgence of betrayal floods your actions as you press down on the gas pedal as though your life depends on it. all because now it’s evident that if you don't kill him, he will kill you. 

pulling your car sharply around the corner and onto your driveway, you step out the car, pistol in either hand. you scan the building with your eyes, the warm exterior of your house now a cold shell, a place for death.

someone, tonight, is going to die here, and you will not let it be you. 

as you creep around the house towards the back door, silence swarming you, you see a sudden flicker of light from the kitchen. 

there he is, usual home comfort clothing, usual messy hair. to him, you’re not a threat; he’s seen it first hand, witnessed your hesitation. 

but not anymore, not after he had tried to kill you. you won’t let him take your life away from you anymore than he already has. 

you slowly walk towards the back door, twisting the handle to pop it open, but just as you do, the kitchen light switches off. the entire house turns to black. 

he knows you’re here. 

you walk inside, past your immaculate kitchen, past the stairwell. but it’s when you get to the living room that you hear a shuffle amongst the furniture. 

and you’re right next to the light switch. 

you reach your hand towards the switch, inches away from turning the light on before a hand clasps around your wrists. you twist, shooting blindly at the figure behind you, an attempt to defend yourself. 

‘nice try, honey.’ you hear his voice whisper from beside you. 

you turn again, trying to gain an idea of where he is, but before your eyes can focus, a rally of gunshots explode at the wall beside you. unfortunately for mark, he misses, similarly blinded by the darkness surrounding you, but fortunately for you, the fire of his revolver illuminates from the barrel, signaling exactly where he’s positioned from across the room.

moving before you can even think, you run towards him, launching yourself in his direction. you meet the hardness of his shoulder as you knock you both onto the floor, rolling away from each other. you attempt to regain your balance on your feet, but a sound from across the room stops you in your tracks: the chilling swipe of a knife being drawn from the kitchen drawer.

mark has never deviated from his selected weapon before. 

he is desperate.

still unable to see each other, you speak out as you eventually stand up. 

‘have you ever considered couple’s therapy, sweetie?’ you taunt, hoping a joke would distract him as you crawl across the room to find one of your pistols. 

he laughs in reply, ‘with you, or the fake wife i’ve been married to for four years?’

‘i have no idea what you're talking about.’ your voice is sweet, an innocent persona you’ve been willing to upkeep. 

his voice sounds closer, raspier. ‘you know, i always wondered why you hated me.’ he says, the sound of his words circling you as you freeze. ‘i thought, maybe you knew what i did for a living, that you despised me for it.’ he stops walking. ‘but now i know that you really do just hate me.’

with that, he lunges in your direction, circulating his arms around you from behind, knife held firmly against the front of your neck. you feel his breath on your cheek, hear his heartbeat. 

and it’s racing.

‘you won’t do it.’ you say, fear consuming you. 

you feel his lips twitch into a smile from beside you. 

‘you’re naive, baby.’

‘then do it.’

there’s a moment of stillness, mark’s breath halting, his heart still pounding. 

the pressure at your throat lingers, but it doesn’t increase. 

instead, it’s the silence that speaks volumes.

the knife drops to the floor, clattering at your feet, his arms still enveloping you. 

he turns your body by your shoulders, and the stillness of the room allows your eyes to focus.

there he is, hair dishevelled as he looks down on you. it’s almost impossible to tell, but amongst the flood of darkness you think you see a hint of a smile in his eyes. 

he looks down at the floor, his arms falling to his sides. 

‘im sorry, yn.’ he says. 

you furrow your brows in confusion. 

‘wh-’ 

but before you could ask what he means, you feel the warm embrace of his arms around you, head falling into his chest as he pulls you towards him, a hand running through your hair. 

you stay like that for a moment, basking in each other's comfort, memories of the start of your marriage flooding back to you. 

it’s now that you realise the extent of your fear, it's now that you realise what you really feel. 

it’s not mark’s eyes that reel you in, not the warm brown or the golden specks that you urge to drift away with, no, it’s just him. 

the man you have despised for all these years, for this entire marriage, is the man you don’t.

before you could have it in your heart to figure out why, a high pitched screech blurs around you, a whistle you both know all too well. 

‘yn!’ mark pleads, pulling your wrist towards him as he ducks behind the wine cabinet, its bronze structure serving as the perfect shield as he holds your body towards him. 

you don’t know why, but you trust his embrace.

as if perfectly timed, the hot surge of the explosion traces your skin as the kitchen falls to ruin, the cabinet protecting you both from the heat of the blast. it’s only a small explosion, erupting only a meter within itself, but your heart pounds at the nature of it.

you look up at mark as you pull away from each other. 

‘that wasn’t me-’ you begin, but a shock in mark’s eyes stop you from talking.

you turn, facing the direction of the explosion. 

emerging within the rubble of your kitchen wall, is a figure. 

the smoke conceals them, hiding the details of their features from you. 

but as the second figure emerges from the dust, you recognise their silhouette almost immediately. 

agent K. your boss.

‘fuck.’ mark mumbles to himself as he holds an eye contact with the first person so extreme that it has you questioning. meanwhile, you do all you can to avoid K’s glare, feeling her eyes burn into your skull.

both yours and marks. 

K and the man you don’t recognise both stand in what’s left of your kitchen, eyes trained on the proximity of you and the man beside you.

you don’t dare to speak first. 

‘agent 1270. agent 1999.’ K begins, breaking the silence. 

you check your watch, fear and terror consuming you as you read the steady pace of the clock hands.

10:44 pm. 

it’s been exactly 11 hours and 59 minutes. 

you’re completely and utterly fucked.

K continues, ‘there's a little someone i would like you to meet.’

after her cue, two men in black walk towards you, dragging a half limp man between them,  black cloth over his head as they place him on his knees ahead of you. 

after receiving a nod from K, one of the two men reach for his hood, lifting it off his head and revealing the terrifyingly familiar face of the man it belongs to. 

he smiles, his silver moustache smiling with him. 

it’s him, the man you were supposed to poison when you had accidently poisoned mark instead. 

mark clenches his jaw beside you, hands digging in his pockets as he glares at the man in front of him. 

and suddenly it all pieces together. 

your mind draws back to your conversation with your boss.

‘it’s a race of who can find and kill who first.’ 

that is what she told you when she gave you the task of killing mark, that is why she gave you the job. 

because he was set to kill you too. 

you were set to take out eachother.

‘this was your plan all along.’ you say, eyes flickering between K and the stranger beside her, completely ignoring the man as he gets dragged away again out of sight. ‘this is what you’d hoped for. you knew, this whole time, what you wanted.’

mark looks at you, and you can see the pieces falling together in his head. 

K looks angry, livid even, but it only adds fuel to your flame, so you continue.

‘there was never a rivalry between our agencies, was there?’ you ask, not waiting for the answer; you already know what it will be. ‘there was never any competition.’

K’s anger slowly morphs into a smug look of distaste as she begins to speak, slowly walking towards you. 

‘mrs lee, do you really think i would have assigned you such a task? you, an inexperienced solo assassin set to murder a gambler at a casino?’ her eyes search yours. ‘it was all under the plan i had constructed. i instructed you to slip poison into the gentlemans drink, under oath that if you fucked up i would get rid of you, and agent H here,’ she points at marks boss beside her, ‘was to instruct agent 1999 to take a sip of the drink, reasoning it as an interception of rival plans and promising him an antidote he wasn’t going to receive. killing both of you in the process.’ you feel the anger in mark shift beside you. ‘what we didn’t expect, however, was for you to give it to him yourself. so, by all due means, we had to improvise. if we couldn’t take you out, then you would have to take out each other.’

by this point, K is directly in front of you, the scent of her navy suit filling the air around you with an aroma of sweet spice. 

but as you look into her eyes, you decide that, really, you’re not scared of her. 

you peek at mark beside you, his attention elsewhere, trained on his boss as he remains across the other side of the room, a smug look on his face.

mark speaks up. ‘why? why go through all that trouble to kill us?’ he says, directly aimed at his boss.

agent H comes forward, until eventually, he is side by side with agent K. 

your boss smiles, ‘because marriage is a dangerous sport, agent 1999.’

your heart thumps in your chest, your skin crawls.

she knew. 

she knew everything. 

‘a distraction.’ she sneers, ‘a liability.’

you don’t say anything, you can’t.

‘and though you liked to pretend you hated it, mrs lee, i knew, truly, deep down, there was a vow more important to you than any job you could have been given.’

the silence is deafening, scorching the air around you. 

but its not K that finishes the sentence, it's the voice of the man beside you, the voice of the reason behind all of this. 

he’s breathless, but the words are laced with nothing but raw honesty as he whispers them, a realisation sparking from within him.

and now he’s finally aware.

‘till death do us part.’

it’s only after those words are uttered that the whole world breaks loose. 

shots erupt from wall to wall, glass smashing around you as you follow mark, his hand wrapped firmly around your wrist. 

you both burst out the door, his hand letting loose of yours so that you can sprint your way over to mark’s car. 

‘get in!’ he yells at you from the driver's seat, but your mind betrays you, a plan of strategy forming in your wits.

‘hang on.’ you yell back at him and with little time to spare, mark rolls his eyes.

he rolls down the window. ‘we don’t really have time for this, yn.’ mark grunts through his teeth, anger enticing him to just drive off without you, to let you die. but he can’t, not like this.

you ignore him, legs close to giving in as you run to the keypad on the gate to your driveway. urging mark to drive through, you press in the numbers, closing the gate before climbing over, jumping into his car on the other side.

‘go, go, go.’ you yell, gunfire belting off the metal of the cars exterior and you shut the door.

skidding the car round the exit of the street, the rubber of the tyres producing a thick layer of smoke behind you, mark calls over to you, ‘what did you d-’

but before he could finish his sentence, your entire house explodes in a massacre of flames. 

you grin at him in succession, ‘self destruction code.’

he laughs back at you, ‘you’re crazy.’

‘i know.’

as you begin to gain speed on the highway, mark sliding the car skillfully between the cars around you, you start to notice three other cars doing the same behind you, gaining speed, and the familiar black tint of each window signalling who they belong to.

‘shit, they’re after us.’ you wince, mark looking in the rearview mirror and cursing at the sight. but before he can suggest anything, he peeks over at you, watching as you reach under the seat and find yourself a set of machine guns.

noticing his questioning look, you turn to him, ‘what? that’s where they are in my car, so i could only guess.’ you shrug.

he laughs, in awe at this new version of his wife, ‘i think i can get used to this side of you.’

‘you’d better.’ you reply, before reaching up at the sunroof and pulling it across, making a gap for you to emerge out of. manoeuvring yourself so that you're kneeling on the centre console of the car, you push your upper body out the top of the car, aiming the gun at the cars chasing after you. 

beginning to fire your guns, aiming for the cars’ tyres and successfully stalling one of the drivers, you seem to start to lose your balance.

‘mark!’ you call. 

‘you okay, baby?’ he yells back, noticing your struggle.

you roll your eyes. ‘you’re driving like a coward’

‘you’re kidding, right?’

you look down at him, peeking your head back through the sunroof. ‘let me drive.’

he sighs in acceptance before you reach your legs over to his side of the car, swapping places with him. 

but mark has better ideas. 

‘open the trunk.’ he demands, picking up both machine guns from the passenger seat and climbing to the back. 

you press the button, the trunk opening up and giving mark a full view of the cars behind him. 

you speed up the car, weaving through the traffic in an attempt to divert their bullets. 

‘it’s too busy, babe, i can’t aim like this.’ he yells back to you. 

‘hang on.’ you call as you speed past cars until you find a junction in the road. you turn the car, slipping across it and nearly flipping the car in the process. 

‘holy shit.’ mark yells, clinging onto the handle on the car roof.

you laugh, ‘sorry.’ 

now with a clear aim of the cars behind you, mark crawls on the backseat, shooting desperately after them.

you begin to grow eager, listening as mark wastes all the bullets you have at your disposal. that’s when an idea begins to form in your head, an impossible yet incredibly daring plan. 

amidst all the chaos, you call for him again. ‘mark!’

‘yeah?’ he says, ducking behind the seats to avoid the other cars’ oncoming gunfire, panting in exhaustion. 

‘you got any explosives?’

mark’s head tilts, ‘under your seat. why?’ 

you reach under your seat, grabbing the grenade and passing it back to mark. 

‘i need you to open the left door at the back.’ you yell, and he does so, other hand holding on by the seat belt to keep himself upright. 

you continue, ‘when i tell you to, throw it out that door.’

‘shit, okay.’ he replies, leaning back against the seat, wincing in pain at the strength to keep himself going. 

noticing a straight length of road up ahead, you ready your hand on the car’s parking brake. when you gain enough speed, you quickly turn the steering wheel to the left, forcing the car to a stop in the process. in a whirl of gravity, the car spins on its side as the cars behind you are forced to stop. it's then that you call for mark to throw the explosive. 

a bright white light erupts from beside you, a hot breeze brushing past your skin.

the cars go up in flames, both of your bosses inside them. 

it's over.

everything is over.

after a few moments of tranquility, mark is already outside the car, pulling you from the driver's seat and bringing you to your feet. 

‘you okay?’ he turns to you, eyes searching yours in a second of sincerity that you’ve never seen from him before. 

it’s cruel, the way he looks at you, as though nothing has changed, as though you're still that same innocent wife you once were. the thick atmosphere of reality struggles to set in between you as you look back at the damage you’ve made.

both physical and not.

‘they’re gone’ you whisper, ‘it’s all gone.’

he feels everything you feel, he always has, every thought, every emotion, all of it. so he does what he knows he also needs the most, as he pulls you into his chest, resting his chin on the top of your head and wrapping his arms around you in warmth. he knows you're hurting, and for once in his life, he has the power to stop it. 

side by side, you walk. not a word is uttered, not a thought exchanged. you don’t need to, you both understand. it’s bittersweet, but yet terribly foreboding, so you don’t say a word. 

you had managed to find yourselves in a nearby town, not a care where you had ended up, home no longer a fortified place, destroyed and abandoned. you stand, complete yet broken, at the front of the town's local church, looking up at the grand design of its wooden doors. 

it’s as if you both had gravitated here by some external form of fate, woven into your lives, repeated like a mantra, forcing back to you everything you had seemed to have forgotten. that’s how you find yourselves where you are now, feet facing each other as you stand at the altar at the front of the church hall, the echo of the stone walls reflecting your silence. 

for once in your life, you look into his eyes knowing that they’re his.

‘till death do us part.’ you whisper, and you know K was right; you do mean it.

he smiles back at you, dimples showing.

‘till death do us part.’

mark looks at you, really looks at you, a softness in his features and a new found sincerity in his heart. 

it was at that exact moment that you realised why you had hated marrying mark lee.

it was attachment: something so incredibly forbidden yet increasingly enticing. all you wanted, all you really wanted, was to love in honesty, but it wasn’t mark that you wanted to love.

it was agent 1999. 

two weeks later 

the room is plastered in an ugly hue of grey, carpet stained and window forcing a breeze to flow through the curtains. mark sits beside you, listening to the question of the woman before you. 

‘so, what made you both want to come here for couples therapy?’

mark turns to you, a smirk lining his lips. you smile, trying to conceal your laugh.

‘i guess you could say we kept a few secrets. isn’t that right, mark?’

he looks at you, eyes wide and heart full. 

‘something like that.’

[rafecameronssl4t]

i miss thornton!reader so bad!!! can we get one, maybe reader got hurt by barry and topper fights rafe about it! love uuuuu

Protective || Rafe Cameron x Thornton!reader

A/n: I've missed writing Thornton!reader :(

Warnings: suggestive, slight angst if you even call it that lol, other than that nothing rlly

Word count: 3,417 (longest fic i've written so far lol)

MASTERLIST (rafe x Thornton!reader au masterlist)

divider by @h-aewo

The music thrummed through the house, filling every corner with a heavy bass as Kelce glanced around the crowded room, his brows furrowed. He leaned closer to Topper, who was lounging on the couch with a half-empty beer in hand. “Yo, where’s Rafe? Haven’t seen him all night,” Kelce shouted over the noise.

Topper, barely looking up from his drink, shrugged lazily. “Probably off somewhere with my sister,” he muttered, taking a slow sip. Just as he said it, the sight of you and Rafe caught Kelce's attention, and Topper turned his head. Rafe appeared at the top of the staircase, hand firmly gripping yours as the two of you descended.

His expression was smug, almost victorious, while you walked carefully beside him, your legs unsteady, a faint flush still lingering on your cheeks. The subtle tension between you didn’t go unnoticed. Topper narrowed his eyes, rolling them dramatically. “Where were you guys?” he started, though a moment later he held up a hand, groaning.

“Actually, don’t answer that. I don’t even wanna know,” Topper groaned, his eyes narrowing as he sank deeper into the couch, clearly regretting the question. Rafe’s smirk only widened in response, that signature arrogance playing on his lips as he pulled you closer, his hand sliding possessively to the small of your back.

“What’s wrong? Not havin’ fun?” Rafe’s tone was taunting as he sat down, effortlessly pulling you into his lap. You settled against him, your body fitting into his like second nature, the faint scent of his cologne mingling with the alcohol in the air. Topper’s response was a dry scoff, his eyes cutting away, tired of the banter.

“Yeah, sure, whatever.” He took another sip of his drink, clearly unimpressed with the scene unfolding in front of him. You glanced at your brother, trying to lighten the tension. “Where’s that girl you were seeing? Natalie or something—” you began, but Topper’s cold voice sliced through your words, shutting them down.

“Broke it off with her. She was a bitch anyway,” he said, his tone harsh, dismissive, like the whole thing had been a waste of his time. There was a chill to his words that left an awkward silence between you, broken only by the sound of the party continuing in the background. You exchanged a quick glance with Rafe, who simply shrugged, his expression unbothered, like the drama swirling around him barely registered.

Rafe’s fingers, however, were far more interested in the hem of your dress, teasing the fabric between his fingers as he leaned in closer. “I’m having a smoke. You comin’?” His voice dropped lower, intimate, a subtle invitation. You glanced towards the patio door, the thought of stepping into the cold night air making you hesitate. “But it’s so cold out there,” you pouted, your lips curving into a playful smile.

Rafe chuckled, his eyes dropping to your legs as he gave your thigh a teasing pat. “I told you it wasn’t a good idea wearin’ this dress,” he murmured, his voice filled with amusement as he traced lazy circles on your skin with his thumb. “Oh, it was a bad idea, huh?” you quipped back, tilting your head slightly, a smirk playing on your lips as you met his gaze.

You could feel the electricity between you, the unspoken tension that always lingered just beneath the surface. Before Rafe could respond, Topper groaned again, loudly this time, clearly done with the back-and-forth. “Get outta here, seriously. The two of you are disgusting,” he muttered, rolling his eyes so hard you were sure he was going to walk out. You held up your hands in mock surrender, laughing softly.

“Alright, alright, we’re going,” you teased, sliding off Rafe’s lap. Rafe stood, wrapping an arm around your waist, tugging you closer as the two of you made your way outside. The night air hit you immediately, crisp and cold, but Rafe didn’t seem to mind, pulling you against him as if he could keep you warm just by being close.

~

Rafe leaned back against the side of the house, the dim glow of the porch light casting shadows across his sharp features. A cigarette hung loosely from his lips, the faint trail of smoke curling lazily into the cool night air as he gazed down at you. He wasn’t really paying attention to the words spilling from your mouth, your voice a pleasant hum in the background, but his eyes were locked on you—specifically, the way your glossy lips moved as you talked.

You were leaning casually against the wall, your phone in hand, gesturing slightly as you yapped about the latest gossip swirling around Figure 8. Your voice was animated, every detail about who hooked up with whom and who got into another petty fight filling the air with energy.

Rafe, however, was only half-listening, his attention drawn more to the subtle curve of your lips, how they glistened under the soft light each time you spoke. The way your mouth moved was more captivating than any story you could tell. He took a slow drag of his cigarette, the embers lighting up briefly as his gaze drifted lower, trailing from your lips down to your neckline, his mind wandering.

You didn’t seem to notice his distracted state, too engrossed in the details of your latest story. But to Rafe, it didn’t matter what you were saying. He was content just watching you, the way you moved, the way your presence filled the space between you both.

You continued talking, the glow of your phone illuminating your face as you swiped through the latest drama on social media. “So apparently, Anna broke up with Drew,” you said, your voice filled with excitement as if it was the most riveting thing that had happened all week. “And get this—she’s already seeing Chase. Like, they were spotted together at The Wreck, can you believe it?”

Rafe exhaled a slow puff of smoke, his eyes lazily following the movement of your lips, still half lost in his own thoughts. “Mm-hmm,” he mumbled in response, barely processing the names you were tossing out. His mind kept drifting—your lips, the way your hair fell over your shoulders, the subtle scent of your perfume mixing with the cool night air.

You didn’t seem to notice his lack of enthusiasm as you scrolled through your phone, continuing. “And then there’s Claire—God, she’s still with that guy from The Cut. You know everyone’s talking about it, right? Like, what is she even thinking? She could do so much better, but nope, she’s still with him.”

Rafe took another drag of his cigarette, flicking the ash off to the side before responding, his tone casual and almost uninterested. “Yeah, she’s an idiot,” he muttered, his gaze still fixated on your lips, completely disconnected from the gossip itself. You sighed, exasperated by how uninterested he seemed. “Are you even listening, Rafe?” you asked, shooting him a playful glare, though you knew this was how he always acted when you talked about Figure 8 drama.

He smirked, letting the cigarette dangle from his lips as he finally met your eyes. “I’m listenin’,” he drawled, his voice low and teasing. “I just don’t care about half the people you’re talkin’ about.” You rolled your eyes, leaning in just a little closer. “You should care. It’s your crowd, Rafe. You act like you’re too cool for it, but you know you love it when someone else’s life is falling apart.”

Rafe chuckled, his hand firmly tugging you closer by the waist. “Nah, I just like watchin’ you get all worked up about it,” he murmured, his eyes lingering on your lips as he tossed his cigarette aside, his focus now entirely on you. You sighed, tucking your phone into your back pocket, arms crossing over your chest as a shiver ran down your spine.

“Can you hurry up? I’m freezing my tits off out here,” you groaned, leaning into Rafe for warmth. The night air was biting, and the flimsy dress you’d chosen was doing nothing to help. Rafe smirked, wrapping an arm casually around your neck and pulling you against him.

“Quit whining. I already warmed you up earlier,” he teased, his eyes twinkling as they glanced down at you. His hand rested possessively on your hip, the cockiness in his tone making you roll your eyes. You were about to fire back a snarky remark when a voice cut through the darkness. "Rafe!" someone called out, the tone sharp and angry.

Before you could turn to see who it was, you suddenly felt a rough pair of hands grab your shoulders and shove you aside with force. The world seemed to tilt for a moment as you let out a startled shriek, your body stumbling as you lost your balance, crashing into a bush. The cold leaves scratched against your skin, the shock of the shove still fresh as you blinked, trying to regain your composure.

“What the fuck, Barry?!” Rafe’s voice exploded with fury as he shoved the man back, his stance immediately tense, ready to throw a punch. But before he could escalate, he turned back to you, eyes wide with concern. He was by your side in an instant, one hand gripping your arm, steadying you as you struggled to get up.

“You okay?” Rafe asked, his voice softening, all the teasing from before gone, replaced by genuine worry. His hands moved to gently brush the dirt and leaves off you, his eyes searching your face for any sign of injury. You took a deep breath, still a little shaken, but nodded slowly. “Yeah, I’m fine,” you muttered, your voice quieter now.

But your eyes were narrowed, darting to Barry, who stood a few feet away, his face twisted in a malicious grin, his energy dark and threatening. “Oh, my bad, Princess,” Barry sneered, his voice dripping with sarcasm as he glared at you. “Just here to let your boy know he’s gotta pay up. Real fuckin’ soon.”

The tension in the air was palpable as Rafe instinctively moved you behind him, his body blocking yours in a protective stance. His jaw clenched, and his eyes narrowed in confusion and anger. “Pay up? What the fuck are you talking about?” Rafe snapped, his voice rising with frustration. “I already gave you the money—what more do you want?”

Barry chuckled darkly, taking a step closer, his eyes flickering with something dangerous. “Yeah, you gave me some of it,” he growled, his tone low and threatening. “But we both know that wasn’t the full amount, Cameron. I don’t like bein’ shortchanged.” Rafe’s posture stiffened, his fists clenching at his sides as he squared up to Barry, tension rippling through his body. “You got what I owed you,” Rafe hissed, his voice laced with fury.

“I’m not giving you a goddamn cent more.” Barry took another step forward, his gaze shifting from Rafe to you, a wicked smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth. “Better be careful, Rafe,” he taunted, his eyes gleaming with malicious intent. “You wouldn’t want Princess here to get caught in the middle of your little debt, would you?”

Rafe’s entire body went rigid, the implication in Barry’s words sending a jolt of rage through him. He stepped closer to Barry, his voice low and dangerous. “You keep her out of this,” Rafe growled, the muscles in his neck tightening. “Or I’ll make sure you regret it.” You stood behind Rafe, your heart pounding in your chest, the weight of the situation finally sinking in.

You could see the barely contained fury in Rafe’s stance, the way he was holding himself back from lunging at Barry right then and there. Barry gave a mocking shrug, stepping back with a grin still plastered on his face. “We’ll see about that,” he said casually, turning on his heel as if the conversation was over. “But I’ll be back, Rafe. You know where to find me. Don’t make me wait.”

He shot one last look over his shoulder before disappearing into the night, leaving you and Rafe standing there in the cold, the air heavy with unsaid threats. Rafe exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair before turning to you, his expression softening only slightly. “Are you alright?” he asked quietly, his voice still tight with lingering anger.

You nodded, but the unease in your chest didn’t go away. “What the hell was that about, Rafe?” you asked, your voice a mix of concern and frustration. He sighed, pulling you into his arms and pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “It’s nothin’ you need to worry about,” he muttered, though the look in his eyes told you it was anything but nothing.

"Why the fuck was a drug dealer walking through my house?" Topper’s angry voice sliced through the tension, making both you and Rafe turn toward him. His face was red, brows knitted together in fury as he stormed up to the two of you. The pulse of the party inside was distant, but the rage in Topper’s voice filled the silence outside.

His eyes landed on you, taking in your disheveled appearance, the dirt on your dress, and the lingering shock in your expression. “The fuck happened to you?” he demanded, his gaze sharp and piercing, searching your face for answers. You swallowed hard, trying to shake off the remnants of the altercation with Barry.

“Nothing,” you mumbled, brushing a hand over your arm as if to wipe away the discomfort. “Bullshit,” Topper snapped, cutting you off before you could even try to explain. His anger shifted, his eyes narrowing as they darted to Rafe, who was still standing protectively in front of you. “I told you to take care of my sister,” Topper growled, his voice low but filled with fury.

“I don’t want her around a fucking drug dealer, Rafe!” Rafe straightened up, his expression hardening. “Topper, calm the fuck down,” he shot back, his voice steady but laced with annoyance. “It wasn’t like that.” “Oh really?” Topper scoffed, taking a step closer. “’Cause from where I’m standing, it sure as hell looks like it was like that. What the fuck is Barry doing here, and why is my sister gettin’ shoved into a goddamn bush?!”

Rafe ran a hand through his hair, visibly frustrated. “Barry’s deal is with me. I’m handling it,” he muttered, but the tightness in his voice betrayed the weight of the situation. “I didn’t know he’d pull shit like that.” “That’s not good enough, Rafe,” Topper spat, his voice rising. “She’s not some collateral damage in whatever fucked-up deal you have goin’ on.” You stood between them, feeling the heat of the argument escalating, the tension rolling off both of them in waves.

“Topper, seriously, I’m fine,” you tried to interject, though your voice was drowned out by the two of them squaring up. Rafe shot a glare at Topper, his patience thinning. “I told you, I’ve got it under control.” Topper barked out a laugh, disbelief in his voice. “Under control? My little sister gets shoved around, and that’s you havin’ things under control?”

Rafe’s jaw clenched as he took a step forward, his temper flaring. “Watch it, Top,” he warned, his voice dark. “Barry’s my problem, and I’ll deal with him. You don’t need to worry about her.” But Topper wasn’t backing down, his protective instincts kicking in as his eyes darted between you and Rafe. “You better,” Topper seethed, his voice dangerously low.

“’Cause if this happens again, I won’t just be worried—I’ll make sure this thing between you and her is done. I don’t care what you two have going on, Rafe. If she gets hurt because of your shit, I’ll end it myself. She deserves better than to be dragged into whatever mess you’re caught up in.” Your jaw dropped, disbelief flooding your face. “You don’t mean that—” you began, your voice trembling as you searched Topper’s eyes for any sign that he might back down.

But the fierce determination in his gaze made it clear he was dead serious. “Oh yes, I fucking do,” he snapped, his voice sharp as a blade, unwavering in its conviction. “And I’ll tell Mom and Dad.” The threat hung in the air like a storm cloud, heavy and suffocating, charged with unspoken tension.

A chill raced down your spine, and your heart pounded violently in your chest at the thought of your parents getting involved. They had always been skeptical about your relationship with Rafe, questioning his intentions and whether he was truly good for you. You could almost hear their voices in your head, echoing their concerns “He’s trouble,” and “You deserve someone better.” The idea of them finding out about the chaos swirling around you made your stomach churn.

“Topper, wait—” you tried to interject, stepping forward to bridge the widening gap between them. “You can’t just threaten Rafe like that. It’s not fair—” “Fair?” Topper shot back, cutting you off with a glare. “What’s not fair is that my sister is getting mixed up with someone who can’t keep her safe. This isn’t just about you two playing house; this is serious!”

Rafe stepped in, his voice steady but edged with irritation. “I get it, Topper. You’re trying to protect her, but you’re not seeing the whole picture. I care about her. You think I want any of this to happen?” “Then act like it!” Topper snapped, his frustration boiling over. “You’re letting this shit happen right under your nose. If you truly cared, you’d make damn sure it never came to this.”

The intensity of the moment hung between the three of you, a taut string ready to snap. You glanced at Rafe, searching for reassurance, but his jaw was clenched tight, frustration and anger warring in his expression. “Topper, please,” you pleaded, your voice softer now, desperate to diffuse the situation. “You know how much Rafe means to me. He’s not like that—”

“Not like what?” Topper interrupted, his voice rising again. “Not like a drug dealer? Not like someone who can’t keep his life together? You’re smarter than this, and I refuse to watch you throw yourself into the fire just because you think you can handle it.” Your heart sank as you realized that his anger was coming from a place of love, a protective instinct that had always been there.

But it still hurt to see him turning on Rafe, the person you cared about deeply. Rafe’s expression softened slightly as he looked at you, and for a moment, it felt like the two of you were the only ones in the world. “Topper, if you really want to protect her, then trust me to do the same,” he said, his voice calmer, but the fire still simmered beneath the surface. “I won’t let anything happen to her. I promise.”

“Promises don’t mean shit when you’re dealing with guys like Barry,” Topper shot back, his voice taut. “You need to figure this out, Rafe. Because if you can’t, I’ll step in, and I won’t hesitate to make it clear to everyone—including Mom and Dad—that you’re not the right guy for her.” Rafe's lips part slightly as he glances at you, his brow furrowed with concern as he notices the tears welling up in your eyes.

“And you both know that the only reason this even works is because I’m allowing it. Mom and Dad are already skeptical enough about this whole thing. If anything goes wrong, you know it’ll be on me to explain why I let it happen” Topper says, his voice laced with frustration as he narrows his eyes at both of you.

He glances at you one last time, his expression a mix of anger and disappointment, before he turns and walks away, leaving the tension hanging in the air. As soon as he’s out of sight, the tears spill down your cheeks, warm and stinging. “Rafe…” you whisper, your voice trembling with emotion, but Rafe doesn’t respond with words.

Instead, he pulls you closer, wrapping his arms around you tightly, enveloping you in his warmth as you quietly sob against his chest. “Shh, it’ll all be fine, don’t worry about it, okay?” he murmurs softly, his voice a gentle balm against your hurt. His hand caresses your hair, fingers weaving through the strands in a soothing rhythm as you cling to him, seeking comfort in his presence.

[joonberriess]

⋆ TAGS — really soft and domestic, TW: this deals with postpartum depression, baby daddy!jk, soft lil kisses, insecure!oc, angsty as hell, this is more of a comfort fic, mentioned baby, oc rlly struggles but jk is super supportive, mentioned past pregnancy, this made me cry, soft hours, jk pampers his lovely gf, CANON AUUUU JK’S JUST JK HERE LMAO

⋆ WORD COUNT — 2.4 k

“vámonos a comer un heladito, tu princesita, cómprame cositas. en mis tacones casi todo el día, dame un foot-rub and ice out mi tobillo,”

Your eyes fluttered under the feeling of lips sliding across your forehead, eyelid, and nose. You hear Jungkook laughing quietly as he envelops you in his strong arms and tugs you close. His murmurs and pestering have you pulling a face in your sleep, nose scrunched cutely given the way he coos teasingly.

“What time is it?” You mumble softly and blankly stare back at him, eyes heavy from sleep.

“Noon.” This has you going stiff, “Relax baby, he’s okay your mom came early to pick him up.” He comfortingly strokes over your side and backside.

You sink back into the sheets and nod, “Why didn’t you wake me?” You mumble under your breath as your eyes flutter shut.

Jungkook pressed more gentle kisses to your forehead with a low rumble, “You need a break, figured maybe we could go out–do some shopping, go to that sushi place you’ve been dying to try.. That sounds good, yeah?” He murmurs.

You hum, “It does, feels like I haven’t been out in forever.”

He waits with a bated breath and smiles softly when you open your eyes and stare back with more clarity, all traces of sleep etched away. “You’re so pretty, y’know that?” He brushes a strand of hair out of your face.

A subtle heat rises in your cheeks as you smile back, “Even with baby barf and spit all over my shirt?”

“The prettiest.” He leans over to kiss your nose, looking into your eyes with a twinkle in his own. He looks at you like you’ve just hung the stars for him.

Shyly, you press a soft smooch to his lips before flopping flat on your back with a sigh, “The fridge’s nearly empty isn’t it?” You mumble, “I’m sorry, I meant to go the other day but I ended up—”

“You’re fine, it’s okay. You know I’m here too right?” Jungkook reaches over to hold your hand, “Don’t worry about it baby, you’ve got your hands full right now and I get it. ‘s okay to ask for help too.”

You look at him with a soft smile, “I love you.” You lay a quick kiss on his cheek and roll out of bed to head to the bathroom.

Jungkook huffs, “Only one? On the cheek too..” He grumbles like a petulant child, sitting up in the messy sheets tangled around his hips and his bare chest out for your viewing.

“Get ready, it was YOUR idea to go out too so don’t make us late.” You fondly roll your eyes, you can hear him whine about something else behind you as the door shuts.

“…..” You pass in front of the body length mirror, pausing for a moment to observe your appearance. Your hands come up to rest over your tummy as you stare long and hard. “…”

You better get ready.

.

“y/n.”

“y/n?”

You snap out of your daydream and look over at Jungkook curiously, “Yeah?”

“I asked if you wanted to check out the fruits, it’s strawberry season and I’m sure they brought out all the fresh stuff.” Jungkook doesn’t seem at all bothered by the fact that you’ve spaced out for a second time since entering the store.

You shake your head, “I don’t like strawberries.” You say disinterestedly.

‘But you ate them your whole pregnancy, what’s wrong now?’ Your brain is screaming at you to just say yes and deal with it but you can’t.

He gives a soft hum, “That’s fine. Is there anything you wanted to get?” He steers the shopping cart away from the fruits, leading you down an aisle filled with spices and other cooking ingredients.

“Um, what was that thing you bought last time? When you made that white stew.” You scrunch your nose, “Ugh I forgot.”

“Ohh, you mean the cream stew mix? Uhh I think it’s down this aisle lemme check.” Jungkook leaves the cart with you as he trails down the aisle looking up, down, and around.

You pick out a few things to try out later on and happily make your way over. “Did you find it?” You curiously peek over his shoulder, damn near yelling because he shoots back up with a ‘ah-ha!’.

“What?” He innocently says after noticing the scowl on your face.

“You scared me.” You huff and punch his arm gently, “C’mon, I wanna get some chips and the aisle is back that way.” Jungkook happily trails after you, telling you all about his upcoming Calvin Klein campaign.

.

“Look,” Jungkook snorts as he holds up a pair of lace g-strings, “you mean to tell me this tiny triangle covers your entire pus–”

“Jungkook!” You hiss quietly after noticing a few older women turn their heads, “Put those down.” You snatch the panties away and toss them back into their respective drawers.

He cheekily grins and picks up another pair of underwear, “What? I didn’t do anything, I was just asking.” He chuckles.

“You are so dumb.” You giggle quietly, “Stop!! You’re going to get us kicked out, I thought I had one baby not two.”

“But babyy this is so boring, jus’ a bunch of girlie stuff and these women keep lookin’ at me like I’m a creep but I swear I’m just trying to help you.” He pouts.

You shake your head fondly, “Here, go find something to buy or do while I finish up here.” His eyes light up and he presses a messy smooch to your cheek before practically sprinting out.

Your eyes slowly turn over to the mannequin sitting tall on the platform donned in a new lingerie set. You stare at it for what seems like eternity while the world goes on about their day around you. Eventually a staff comes to break you out of your bubble.

“Is everything okay miss? Were you interested in our new spring collection?”

“Oh, um yeah, well I’m trying to surprise my boyfriend you know? I don’t know if he’ll like it ‘n stuff.” You murmur softly, eyes lowered and averted from the mannequin.

“Mmm.. what do you like?”

“Silk, maybe a babydoll or teddy..? I think.” You can’t stomach the idea of wearing a two piece, because then that means your….

“We have just the set then, we got a ton of new items for this spring. ” She grins while leading you away.

When you come out of the store, Jungkook’s barely walking back. He has this goofy little smile on his face as he stops in front of you, barely containing his excitement. “Guess what.”

“What did you do?” You giggle softly and eye the bag in his hand.

“I got this for you.” He brings out a large shirt and holds it up proudly, “It says: Best Milf Ever.”

You stare at the words with disbelief and then you’re breaking out into uncontrollable laughter. People around you look in curiosity but you can’t stop, you feel like you’re about to pee from how hard you’re laughing.

And Jungkook?

He stands there with a fond smile, gazing at you lovingly as he puts the shirt back, “You like it?”

You haven’t laughed nor felt this much joy in a while. “I love it.”

.

After having dinner Jungkook takes you out for ice cream. You were a bit burnt out from being out all day so you waited in the car while he went inside to buy the ice cream.

You think back to everything that happened today, it feels nice. You make a mental note to ask Jungkook to take you to a cat cafe sometime later on in the week. “Oh my god.” You mutter in embarrassment.

Jungkook’s walking back with a monstrosity of a ice cream sundae and then your perfectly NORMAL scoop of sherbet with gummies on top. “Jungkook what is all that mess?” You whine.

“What? I wanted triple chocolate with sprinkles and fudge.” He slips into the car and hands the small bowls over, “C’mon you gotta try it.”

“Hell no! This looks like it can either send me to do number three or I’m gonna puke my guts out.” You hiss.

“Number three doesn’t exist, nice try.” Jungkook scoffs softly while pulling out of the parking lot.

“It does now.” You mumble, ignoring his loud laughter.

You can’t hide the face you make while Jungkook eats that horrendous dessert. He doesn’t even care that you’re judging him as he happily watches his little Netflix show he’s been yapping about as of lately.

“I knew it, it was her all along..” He mutters to himself as he eats a large spoonful of ice cream.

“I’m going to the kitchen, you want anything?” You can’t take it anymore as you stand abruptly and pass by.

“No.”

You put your ice cream away and drink a glass of water in the kitchen. You enjoy the peace and quiet, it’s been a cool minute since you’ve had some time to yourself. Between caring for a newborn and balancing your everyday life, shit’s been hard.

Not that Jungkook doesn’t help, but sometimes you feel like you put too much on him. He says he doesn’t care but.. you do.

With a heavy sigh you leave the cup in the sink and trail over to your bedroom. The dainty lingerie bag sits on the corner of the bed, you have yet to try it on but you don’t know..

“Fuck it.” You mutter while stripping down and slipping on the pretty babydoll top and matching thong to go with it.

The soft pink and silky smooth feeling of it has you smiling to yourself over how pretty it is on you. The set even came with a robe so you slipped that on too and tied it securely around your waist before heading back out to show your lover.

“Jungkook.” You call out, “What do you think?”

He pauses his show and looks over, his eyes visibly glaze over as he takes you in from head to toe. “Pretty, I like it—pink suits you.” He beckons you over.

Right, he thinks it’s just a robe.

You walk over with a soft hum and stand between his legs, “I got something else, it’s under.”

His eyes darken and he licks his lips, “Can I?” His hands hover over the sash. You can’t help but shiver with the way he looks at you like he wants to eat you alive. Makes you feel hot.

“Yeah..” Your voice comes out breathier than usual, a hint of excitement underlying your tone.

Jungkook unties the knot and slowly pulls your robe off. “Fuck.” He whispers when he sees the pretty babydoll underneath, he gets a peek at your thong too and he’s nearly drooling.

“Shit baby you look so fuckin’ pretty, look at you,” he gently twirls you around with a low whistle.

His hand hovers over your ass, not quite touching but there. You gently pull his hands closer with a soft, “You can touch.” You murmur.

Jungkook audibly gulps and grabs a fistful of your babydoll, he lifts it up enough to slip his hands around both cheeks. He gives both doughy cheeks a tight squeeze before he’s jiggling it in the palms of his hands.

“Can I baby?” He asks softly, “I wanna take you to bed.” To that you nod.

Before you can get another word out, he abruptly stands and hauls you up into his strong arms. You squeal in shock and hit his shoulders, “Jungkook..! Put me down!” You whine.

“No.” Jungkook smirks as he lands a sharp smack to your ass, “Let me take care of you yeah? Just sit ‘n look pretty for me.” He carries you down the hall and kicks the door open, gently tossing you onto the center of the bed.

You bounce back on the mattress with a soft ‘oof’, he doesn’t let up because he’s already crawling over you and landing a sweet yet heated kiss on your lips. You wrap your arms around him and hug him close, enjoying the soft touches.

Jungkook takes his sweet time kissing you, the kiss is slow and his touches are light and feathery. He holds you like you’re made of glass or something, gently cupping your hips and massaging them. It tugs on your poor heart strings and you find yourself tearing up for no reason..?

He pulls away with a soft pant, pressing his forehead to your own as he stares into your eyes with devotion. “Why are you crying baby? Hm? Why’s my pretty girl sad?” He wipes your tears with his thumbs.

“B-Because, you’re so good to me.” You softly hiccup, “Feel safe with you.”

He brushes your hair out of your face and smooches your nose, “Yeah, what else baby. Talk to me.” He murmurs patiently while cupping the side of your cheek.

“You don’t make me feel alone.” You whisper, and his heart breaks seeing you this vulnerable, “I-I know I haven’t been there for you b-but with the baby and–”

“And who said you needed to take care of me? You already have enough with the baby, you spent nine months carrying our baby and you worked hard to bring him into the world my love. Makes me proud of you baby, strongest girl I know.” He softly smiles.

Your heart races and you feel a knot in your throat as you continue listening to him, “You’re going to be okay—we’re okay. You know I’m always going to be right here for whatever you need, you’re doing so good my love.”

You let out a soft sob and bury your face in his shoulder. These past two months of silently struggling with coming to terms of your newfound motherhood and changes with your relationship finally come to a stop. You feel good knowing that Jungkook is so understanding and supportive.

For a while you thought you were going insane, that it was your fault and you were a horrible mother for feeling so…bad.

Even when you were bedridden for days, void of any life and emotion, Jungkook is still here.

“I love you.” Jungkook whispers.

“I love you too.” You sniffle.

Jungkook helps you slip into one of his shirts as the two of you cuddle for the rest of the night watching silly rom-coms. You know the future will be okay.

Everything is okay.

TAGLIST: @fragmentof-indifference @jungkooksseuphoria @kooliv @angelarin @jjeonjjk7 @lilliankoo @pb-n-juju @ellesalazar @saweetspoiled @laylasbunbunny @prettyprincejk @cherrysainttt @hyunjinswifeee @joongraduatewithonor @hellbornsworld @leire-mia @m1sss1mp @lissful @winkii @lifeless-firefly @exactlygreatcoffee @taestoess @ayalies @floweryjeons @softtcurse @lilspinachwrld @tearyjjeon @littleobsessedkitty @lovelovelovebts @angeljmnie @rerefundslocals @bangtans-mama @thvhoe @maddkitt @tvse @ohjeon @teteswtnr @jkslovey12 @kelsyx33 @milfpo1ice @sluttydidi @ztyur @beomgyuult @shescharlie @sweet-sourhotcoco @lalita-7 @hazzzelsdimension @p34rluv @kook-net @bonita0-0 @vmapy @dahliadaenerys @frieschan @lilyflowerguk @sayokodiary @babycandy111 @looneybleus @ash07128 @gyukookswhore @rrosiitas

[cowboybeepboop]

Please please please write something angsty with Hangman that ends with smut, it doesn't have to be too angsty but I really like how soft you write him

Pairing: Jake “Hangan” Seresin x fem! Reader 

Genre: Smut

Word count: 6.6k 

Summary: You’re a psychologist who is currently working with Maverick which means that Jake Seresin is back in your life. The two of you used to be friends but things changed between you during senior year. Seeing him again brings back memories, and feelings you thought you’d suppressed.

Warnings: not even slightly accurate to irl navy experience (I feel like that would be an assumption but nevertheless), mentions of bullying, Jake being a horrible person in the past, hand stuff, oral fem receiving. 

a/n: lowkey this was rlly fun to write, I'm not so great at angst so I hope this is good. Again, as always, I hope you enjoy and please send any requests you might have <3 I love to write requests so feel free to send anything! Also also, send me a message if you want to be tagged in future Glen Powell/Hangman fics.

You and Jake went to the same highschool and were great friends yet both late bloomers. You grew into yourself during your sophomore year of college whereas Jake did in Senior year of high school, when he got his big growth spurt and lost his braces. Something about him entirely humiliating you by standing you up on Prom night, something you were looking forward to, simply because of how much you liked him has you holding a grudge. 

So when you ran into him during your new position as a clinical psychologist for the Navy, your heart quite literally stopped. You thought that pretending you didn't see him would suffice, but, unfortunately the universe has a completely different plan. 

Your boss had introduced you to Maverick, they planned to have you check out his new team in order to make sure they are competent for the missions the government plans for them to complete. That's how you ended up in the gruff man's office every morning, despite his obvious disdain for your presence in their team. 

The evening sunlight beats down on you as you stand next to Maverick, watching the team go through their training drills. You notice him glance over at you, before focusing back on the team in front of you.

"How's that observing going for you?" He asks with a hint of sarcasm in his voice, never taking his eyes off the team performing push-ups.

“Honestly Sir,” you glance over to him, “You’re really good at training, but I think you should be flying missions. You’re too good of a pilot to be stuck on teaching duties.” 

Maverick pauses for a moment, caught off guard by your unexpected compliment. It's clear he wasn't expecting you to say that. He huffs, shaking his head as if trying to dismiss what you said.

"Well, aren't you just full of surprises, sweetheart." He smirks and turns to look you in the eye. "I take it you read up on my file, huh? Got all the dirty little details on Mr. Top Gun himself."

“Of course, but my father trained here a couple years after you.” your gaze returns to the aviators, “He’s always looked up to you, says you're one of the greatest.” 

Maverick's smirk falters for a second, his expression unreadable. He shifts his weight and adjusts the collar of his shirt, suddenly looking a bit uncomfortable.

"Your old man, huh?” He clears his throat. “I had no idea." There's a brief pause before he speaks again, his voice taking on a slightly softer tone. "What's he doing nowadays?"

You reply with a shrug, “Not sure. He wasn’t so keen on having a *shrink* hanging around. Said it cramps his style.” Maverick snorts, that sarcastic smirk returning to his face. 

"Yeah, that sounds like a pilot, alright." He says with a chuckle. His gaze flicks over to the team, currently going through flight drills. He lets out a deep breath before speaking again, a hint of contemplation in his voice. "Did you ever think about becoming a pilot?”

“I did, but I don't think I meet the height requirement.” you smile up at him. Maverick chuckles at your joke, a rare glimpse of genuine humor in his expression.

"Ah yes, the height requirement. The bane of many short people's existence." He teases, his smirk widening. Before you can respond, both of you turn your attention to the sound of the aviators approaching. They look exhausted but pleased, clearly proud of a job well done.

Jake walks towards you, sweat dripping down his forehead from the strenuous training. He stands a little too close, his eyes fixed on you and his breathing heavy. "Hey, Y/N." Jake says, his voice strained from the workout. "You got a minute?” you shift your gaze to the older man at your right, clearing your throat before speaking. 

“No, I’m quite busy.” your usual playful tone is replaced with a distant and cold one.

Maverick picks up on your plea immediately, his expression hardening at the sight of Jake's attempt to speak with you. He steps forward slightly, creating a small barrier between you and Jake.

Jake looks taken back by your cold response, his cocky demeanor slipping slightly. He glances between you and Maverick, clearly confused. "Ah, come on. Just a quick minute." He presses.

“There’s time to talk later.” Maverick interrupts, making you sigh in relief. Jake's cocky smile falters at your cold rejection and Maverick's intervention. He glances at the older man, clearly annoyed by his interruption. 

"It's alright, Maverick," he says, trying to shrug off Maverick's protective stance. "I just wanted to talk to Y/N for a second. It won't take long."  you cower behind Mav, unwilling to face Jake alone again.

Rooster interrupts the tense situation, “Mav, should we hit the showers? Or is there more training to be done?” Jake’s face darkens at Rooster’s question, clearly frustrated that his attempt to speak with you is being constantly interrupted. He clenches his jaw, his irritation palpable.

Maverick, however, remains calm. He gives you a reassuring look before turning to face his team. "Yeah, you guys go ahead and hit the showers." Maverick says, his hand still on your shoulder. "I’ll take care of the situation here." The team nods, sensing the tension in the air, and starts making their way towards the showers.

You avoid Jake's gaze, biting down on your lower lip as you sigh with the tension between the three of you. As the team heads off to the showers, the tension in the air still hangs heavily. Jake stands there, hands on his hips, as he stares at you with a mix of disappointment and anger.

Meanwhile, Maverick's hand goes to your shoulder, a silent show of support. "You really going to keep avoiding me like this?" Jake finally blurts out, breaking the silence.

“If I can.” you say, voice barely above a whisper. “You’re like a damn hawk.” Mav gives you a quizzical gaze before you sigh. “It’s okay Sir, I’ll talk to him” he gives you a soft nod, heading off toward the buildings. 

Once Maverick leaves, Jake's attention refocuses on you, his gaze narrowing as he steps closer. "You’ve been avoiding me all week. We need to talk." His voice is firm, his frustration evident.

“It’s only been a couple days,” you protest, Jake's annoyance only grows at your words, his jaw tightening as he steps even closer, closing the space between you. 

"A couple of days?! It's felt like an eternity. And yeah, I remember our last conversation. It didn't exactly go well." He crosses his arms over his chest, his eyes narrowing as he looks down at you. "You can't keep brushing me aside like this." 

You take a few steps back, sighing with defeat. “Jake, why do you care so much now?” Jake's eyes flick down to the space between you, watching you take a few steps back. His expression softens slightly as he hears the resignation in your voice.

He runs a hand through his hair, frustration etched across his features. "Why do I care?” he repeats, as if the answer should be obvious. “Because I..." He trails off, his own emotions catching him off guard. He pauses, grappling with the words he wants to say, before finding them again. 

You gulp, brushing past him heading toward the buildings. Jake turns, his eyes following you as you try to brush past him. He reaches out, his hand encircling your wrist, stopping you in your tracks.

"Hey, wait." His voice is softer now, more pleading. "Please, just stop and listen to me for a second."

“Okay, fine.” you pull your wrist from his grasp. Jake's hand hangs in the air for a moment after you pull away, your sharp movement surprising him slightly. But he quickly regains his composure and drops it back to his side.

He takes a deep breath and steps closer to you. He wants to reach out and touch you again, but he restrains himself. "I just... I can't stand this. This constant avoidance." 

“Worked well for you when it was you avoiding me.” you bite back. 

Jake's face flushes slightly, guilt flashing across his features. Your words hit him like a punch to the gut, reminding him of his own past behavior. He lets out a frustrated breath, his gaze dropping to the ground. "That was different..." 

“It’s not and you know it.” your head lowers as your mind goes back to your previous conversation, where you confessed your feelings for him and he shut them down quickly. Jake looks at you as your head lowers, regret in his eyes. He instinctively reaches out, gently placing a hand on your shoulder.

"Baby, please." His voice is soft, almost pleading. "Just let me talk for a minute." His touch is tentative, as if he's afraid you'll brush him away again. He wants you to hear him out, but he doesn't want to push you further away in the process. 

You’re taken aback by the pet name, allowing him time to speak. Jake notices the effect his words have on you, a flicker of hope sparking in his eyes. He realizes that he might have a chance to explain himself now.

He takes a deep breath and begins, his voice steady but sincere. "When you told me about your feelings, it took me completely by surprise. I didn't expect it at all. And, honestly, I didn't know how to handle it." His gaze drops to the ground for a moment, his hand lightly squeezing your shoulder. 

You take a deep breath, “Jake,” you move his hand from you. “The only reason you care now is because, because I’m finally *decent* enough for your attention.” 

Jake's expression darkens at your words, a mixture of anger and regret in his eyes. He knows your words carry truth, and it hurts. "That's not true." he protests, his voice tight. "If I'm here now, it's not because I suddenly think you're *decent enough*. It's because..." 

“Because what?” your eyes scan his face. 

Jake runs a hand through his hair, struggling to find the words to explain himself. His eyes lock onto yours, as he tries to convey the depth of his emotions.

"Because I realize now what an idiot I've been," he bursts out, his frustration and remorse clear in his tone. "But... something changed and I..." 

“What changed?” you sigh, Jake's eyes drop to the ground as he grapples with how to answer. He runs a hand through his hair before looking back up at you.

"I don't know," he admits, his voice quieter now, "maybe it was time, or realizing I'm not a kid anymore, but..." He takes a deep breath, steadying himself. "You're different now. You've grown, you've become this..." He gestures towards you, struggling to find the right words. 

“Jake stop..” you look up at him with wary eyes, “That's not fair,”

Jake stops, his eyes widening at your words. "What do you mean it's not fair?" He steps forward, confusion and frustration etched in his expression.

"I'm trying to explain myself, to make you understand why I care now," he says, his voice straining to remain calm. "How is that not fair?"

“Why? Why now?” your voice becomes louder with your growing frustration. Jake's own frustration flares up in response to your growing anger. His hands clench into fists at his sides as he tries to control his emotions.

"I can't explain why now!" he snaps, his voice rising to match yours. "I don't know why I didn't say anything before. I was a dumbass, and I'm sorry!" He runs a hand through his hair, his eyes never leaving your face. "I... I just wish I could go back and fix everything.” 

You open your mouth to speak, yet nothing leaves your lips. Jake notices your hesitation and his expression softens slightly, hope flickering in his eyes. He takes a step closer, his voice quieter now.

"Please. Just... say something. Anything." his hand snakes around your waist, pulling you closer, his hand pressing into the small of your back. You stay silent, unable to process his words and find a response. 

Jake's touch on your waist is firm but not overpowering. He pulls you closer, his eyes searching your face for some kind of response. He notices your silence, the way you seem to be frozen in place. His brow furrows with concern. "Please, talk to me," he pleads. "Don't just stand there." 

You cover his mouth with your hand, needing a second to think. Jake freezes as you place your hand over his mouth, preventing him from speaking any further for the moment. He instinctively responds to your touch, however, pressing a soft kiss against your palm.

His eyes fix on yours, full of hope and anticipation, waiting for you to speak. You feel your guard dropping with his affection, leaning into his body. 

Jake pulls you closer as you lean into him, his arms wrapping fully around you. The tension in the air eases slightly as he holds you tight against his body, his heart racing against your chest. He takes a deep breath, his chin resting on the top of your head. "Please, just talk to me," he whispers into your hair, his voice gentle and desperate. 

“Jake…” you press your forehead against his shoulder, “I..” Jake feels your forehead press against his shoulder, and he holds you a little tighter, his arms encircling you like a protective veil.

"Please," he repeats, his voice barely a whisper, "tell me what you're thinking." He gently tucks a finger under your chin, gently tilting your head up to meet his gaze. His eyes search yours, desperate for some kind of response. 

Your eyes glance to his lips, hands grasping his sides. “I, uh. I don’t know what to say,” your tongue flicks out to wet your lip. Jake's body tenses as he leans in towards you, his breath warm against your lips. He holds you tightly, his grip firm but gentle.

"You don't have to say anything," he murmurs, the corners of his lips barely brushing against yours, "Just... just let me show you." His eyes search yours, filled with a deep mixture of desire and vulnerability. Waiting for your response, for any sign that it's okay to proceed. 

“Jake..” you murmur, his breath hitches at the tone of your voice, the sound of his name on your lips sending a shiver down his spine. He leans in even closer, his lips mere millimeters from yours, his eyes locked on yours.

"Say it again," he whispers, his voice low and rough. "Say my name again." you shake your head in response,  pressing your lips to his. Jake's heart stutters at the touch of your lips against his. He responds immediately, the tension between you snapping as he kisses you back.

He molds his body against yours, one hand gripping your hip to pull you tighter against his chest. The other hand moves to the back of your neck, his fingers tangling in your hair. He kisses you deeply, a thousand unsaid words translated through the contact. 

Your desire momentarily outweighs your grudge against him. Your resistance fades further as Jake's hand slides down your back, his touch igniting a fire within you. He caresses your body with a combination of firm desire and tender finesse, as if he's both demanding and reverent.

His hand cups your ass, his touch a combination of possessive and loving. He pulls you even closer, pressing your body fully against his, his tongue delving deeper into your mouth. He kisses you hungrily, his body craving more, but his hands remain gentle and careful. 

Jake pulls back from the kiss, his forehead resting against yours. Both of you gasp for air, chests heaving as you take a moment to catch your breath.

His eyes remain locked onto yours, a mix of desire, hope, and something else - something deeper - swirling within them. His hands remain on your body, his touch possessive but tender. He runs his thumb over your cheek, a soft gesture of affection. "Say something," he murmurs again, his voice gruff with need. 

“I think,” you take a deep breath, “I think I should leave Jake.” your hands fall from his sides. 

As you speak, as those words leave your lips, something flickers in Jake's eyes. Fear, regret, desperation, all battling for dominance within him. He feels your hands fall away from his sides and his own hands tighten slightly on your hips, as if reflexively trying to pull you back.

"Please, don't go." His voice is thick with emotion, his grip on you bordering on pleading. "Please." your hands cup his cheeks, pulling him in for another deep kiss. Your brain constantly fighting the way your body clings to him. 

As your lips meet in another deep kiss, Jake melts into your touch like a man starved. His hands move to your waist, pulling you flush against his body, his touch firm and possessive.

He kisses you hungrily, his tongue delving into your mouth, seeking connection and reassurance. His heartbeat thuds against your chest, his body reacting to your touch with a mix of need and desperation. 

He doesn't want to let you go. Not now. Jake's body presses even closer against yours, his leg slipping in between yours, creating a tantalizing friction as he wedges himself between your thighs.

His hands roam your body, his touch both rough and tender, a manifestation of the emotions he can't quite find words for. His mouth moves down your neck, his kisses becoming more insistent, more possessive, like a man marking his claim.

He needs you, and he's making it painfully clear. You moan softly, your head leaning to the side to give him better access. Jake's hands grip your hips as he kisses your neck, his lips tracing a path of fire along your skin. The sound of your soft moans only emboldens him, his own body responding to your noises in kind.

You feel him harden against you, a physical reminder of his desire for you. His kisses grow more intense, his teeth gently nipping at your skin as he tries to reign in his self-control. 

He wants more. He needs more. He growls against your skin, his hands moving under your shirt, his fingers tracing up your sides. He nips lightly at your collarbone, his own need growing with each sound that leaves your lips.

“Mm Jake,” you push against his chest, “Wait.” Jake's body stills as you push against his chest, his mind still clouded with desire. He pulls back just enough to look at you, his eyes hazy and dark.

He tries to process what you're saying, his breath coming in short, ragged bursts. He swallows hard, trying to control his racing heart. "Wait... what?" His voice is low and hoarse, his body still pressed against yours, his hands gripping your hip. 

“Take me home,” you murmur, intoxicated by his body on yours. Your lips press to his with hunger, arms wrapping around his neck. Jake's brain struggles to process your words, his body still caught in the haze of desire that surrounds you both. But as your lips brush against his again, the sound of your voice, filled with need, cuts through the fog.

He responds to your hunger with his own, pulling you even closer, his arms wrapping around your waist. He deepens the kiss, his tongue sliding against yours, his body pressed completely against yours.

When the kiss finally breaks, he rests his forehead against yours, his voice a ragged whisper. "Yes. Anything you want." you nod against his head, pulling him closer as you’re unwilling to let him go. 

Jake holds you tight as you nod, his arms encircling you possessively, not wanting to let you go either.

He takes a moment to compose himself, taking a deep breath and trying to gather his thoughts. But the feeling of you in his arms, the sound of your voice, the scent of your skin, they all cloud his mind and make it difficult to do anything but touch you.

He nuzzles his face into your neck, his voice low and rough. "We need to go." 

“Mhm,” your hands wander down his chest, to his lower abdomen, moving to his belt. “We really need to,” Your touch on his body sets his nerves on fire, his muscles tensing under your hands as you move them lower. The feel of your fingers on his belt sends a shiver down his spine, his breath hitching at the contact.

He swallows hard, trying to maintain his composure, but your proximity and your touch make it difficult. He grips your hips tighter, his fingers digging into your skin as he tries to control himself. His voice, when he speaks, is a rough murmur. "Not here.”

You reluctantly pull away from him, handing him the keys from your pocket. Jake takes them from you, his fingers brushing against yours, the contact electric. He watches you pull away, his eyes following your movements closely.

He clenches the keys in his fist, the cold metal a stark contrast to the heat in his veins. His body thrums with need, the need to touch you, to hold you, to *claim* you.

He takes a deep breath, trying to compose himself. "Lead the way." you slide into the passenger seat of your car, putting your address into the gps, restlessly waiting for him inside. Jake slides into the driver's seat beside you, his movements quick and urgent. The sight of you in the seat next to him, the knowledge that he's about to take you home, only serves to heighten his desire.

He starts the car, his hand gripping the gear shift tightly, his knuckles turning white. He glances over at you, taking in your restless demeanor, and a smirk crosses his lips. He knows exactly how affected you are, and it only makes his own need surge. Your hand falls to his lap as you squeeze your legs together in anticipation of what's to come. 

Jake's breath hitches as your hand lands on his lap, the touch sending a jolt through his body. He can tell how tightly you're holding yourself, how the anticipation is affecting you, and it only adds to his own desire.

His eyes flicker down to your hand on his lap, and he has to fight the urge to pull the car over and take you right then and there.

He keeps his eyes on the road, his grip on the steering wheel white-knuckled. "We're almost there." His voice is hoarse, filled with tension. 

“Almost,” you whisper in response, moving your fingertips over his bulge, teasing his body. 

Your fingers brush over his erection, and he lets out a strangled gasp. His hand flies to yours, pressing your hand against him, as if trying to both stop you and encourage you at the same time.

He clenches his jaw, his body tensing at your touch. "Tease," he mutters through clenched teeth, his eyes darting from the road to you and back again. He groans, his body aching for release. You move closer, using your free hand to unbuckle his belt. 

You successfully remove his belt, fingers fumbling with the button and zipper. Jake's breath catches in his throat as you move closer, your hands working on removing his pants. His body tenses, both in anticipation and because he's trying to focus on driving.

He bites back another curse as you unbutton and unzip his pants, his eyes flickering between the road and your hands. He grips the steering wheel tighter, his knuckles white with tension. "We're almost there," he repeats, his voice strained. "Just... just hold on a little longer." 

“Fifteen more minutes,” you groan, hand sliding into his pants. Jake's body jerks at your touch, his hips lifting involuntarily, seeking more of your touch. He lets out a low, ragged groan, struggling to keep his focus on the road.

He looks at you, his eyes dark and intense. "Fifteen minutes," he repeats in agreement, his voice gravelly and rough, "that's it. I can last fifteen minutes." He reaches down, his hand covering yours, but not pushing you away, his touch firm and possessive. 

“Mm, but I can’t.” you murmur as you free him from his boxers, his erection standing straight up. Your words and your touch send a shiver down Jake's spine, his body responding to your every move. 

He closes his eyes for a moment, your touch like fire to his skin, the air in the car suddenly thick. "Jesus," he breathes, his head falling back, "you're going to make me crash."

As you stroke him gently, Jake's eyes fly open, his grip on the steering wheel tightening. "If you keep doing that, I'm not going to be able to drive," he warns, his voice strained with desire.

Ignoring Jake's warning, you lean in and press a soft kiss to his jaw, sending shivers down his spine. His body jolts with surprise and pleasure. Your hand continues to stroke him as your mouth moves closer to his erection, and with a strangled groan, he abruptly pulls the car over to the side of the road, the tires screeching against the pavement. 

His eyes lock onto yours, a mix of desire and alarm, but he says nothing as you wrap your lips around the tip of his cock, the heat of your mouth enveloping him. His hands fly to the back of your head, his fingers tangling in your hair as you begin to suck, the rhythm slow and tantalizing.

His hands grasp your shoulders, gently but firmly, and he pulls you away from his lap. "Wait, wee can't do this here," he says, his voice strained with need and concern. His eyes are dark with desire, but he's visibly fighting to regain control. "Not here, this wouldn’t be right." His words hang in the air, and for a moment, the only sound is the heavy panting of your breath and the pulsing of his erection against your hand. 

You reluctantly pull back, your own desire warring with the understanding in his gaze. "Let's go to your place," he suggests, his voice still thick with lust. "We can... talk things out properly there." He releases you, his hands dropping to the steering wheel as he takes several deep breaths, trying to calm his racing heart.

He speeds to your place, rushing to get you inside. The tension in the car is palpable as Jake shifts it into park, his eyes never leaving yours. You both exit the vehicle, and he takes your hand in his, his touch surprisingly gentle given the fiery passion that had flared between you moments ago. As you enter your townhouse, the urgency from the car seems to dissipate slightly, allowing for a brief moment of awkwardness to settle in. 

You unlock the door and lead him inside, the cool air conditioning a stark contrast to the heat that still simmers between you. Once the door is closed, Jake turns to you, his gaze searching your face for any hint of regret or hesitation. Seeing none, he leans in, capturing your mouth in a kiss that's both desperate and tender. 

Your arms wrap around his neck, pulling him closer, as if trying to erase the years of hurt and distance. His hands roam over your body, reacquainting themselves with your curves, and for a moment, it feels like no time has passed at all.

The kiss deepens, and Jake's hands move to the button of your pants, his fingers deftly undoing it and sliding the zipper down. You gasp into his mouth as he breaks the kiss, his eyes never leaving yours as he kneels before you. He hooks his thumbs into the waistband of your pants, pulling them down along with your underwear, exposing your bare skin to the cool air. 

His gaze travels downward, taking in your wetness with a mix of hunger and awe. "Fuck," he murmurs, his voice thick with desire, before pressing his mouth to your inner thigh, kissing and nipping the sensitive flesh as he moves closer to your center. His tongue traces the line of your pussy, eliciting a moan from deep within you. His hands grip your hips, keeping you in place as he kisses and licks you with purposeful strokes, the heat of his breath sending waves of pleasure through your body. 

You lean back, falling into the couch, your legs spreading wider, giving him full access to explore and taste you. The tension of the day dissipates as he worships your body, his mouth working magic on your clit, his hands exploring and caressing you as if trying to make up for lost time. The air is thick with the scent of arousal, the only sounds in the room your muffled moans and the wet sounds of his tongue against your skin. 

Jake's eyes meet yours again, and you can see the need in them, the raw desire that matches your own. You reach down, threading your fingers through his hair, urging him closer, whispering his name as you feel yourself getting closer to the edge.

As Jake continues to kiss and suck on your clit, you can't help but squirm against his mouth, the sensations building to an unbearable peak. You grab onto his shoulders for support, your moans growing louder with each passing moment. 

Suddenly, the dam breaks and you cum hard, your body shaking with the intensity of your orgasm. He doesn't pull away, instead, he laps up every drop of your release, groaning with his own pleasure at the taste of you. 

As the waves of pleasure subside, you collapse onto the couch, panting and trembling, your eyes fluttering open to meet his intense gaze. He stands, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, a smug look on his face. "See, we can still get along," he murmurs, his voice thick with lust. 

The sight of him standing there, looking so confident and desperate for more, makes your heart race. You can't deny the pull between you, the undeniable chemistry that's always been there. But as you look into his eyes, you know that this isn't just about sex. 

Jake's kisses slowly travel up your legs, turning from hungry to gentle pecks that make your skin tingle with sensitivity. His eyes never leave yours as he shifts his body, moving from his knees to the couch beside you. He wraps his arm around your waist, pulling you closer to him, and you can feel his heart racing in sync with your own. 

His other hand continues to trace patterns on your bare thigh, the softness of his touch a stark contrast to the fervor of moments ago. His eyes are filled with a tenderness that you never knew existed within him, and it's this that has your chest tightening with a mix of emotions. 

With trembling hands, Jake fumbles with his zipper, the metal teeth parting with a low hiss. His eyes never leave your face, the intensity of his gaze setting your skin alight. He swiftly pushes his pants down to his thighs, freeing his erection. It stands tall and proud, a testament to his desire. The room feels like it's closing in, the air thick with anticipation.

You pull him to you by his collar, kissing his lips hungrily. The fabric of his shirt is rough against your skin, but the heat of his body underneath is anything but. His tongue meets yours with an urgency that mirrors your own, your kisses deepening as his hand slides up your shirt, palming your breast. You arch into his touch, a soft moan escaping your lips as his thumb grazes your nipple.

He pulls you onto his lap, your legs straddling his thighs. He kisses you again, his tongue invading your mouth with a passion that leaves you breathless. You can feel him, hot and hard, pressing against your wetness, and it's all you can do to not grind down onto him immediately.

Jake's hands are everywhere, exploring the curves of your body as if he's worshiping a sacred relic. You can feel the heat of his breath against your skin as he kisses down your neck, leaving a trail of soft, sucking marks that make you shiver with pleasure. His teeth graze your skin, not hard enough to break it, but enough to leave a sting that makes your pulse race.

As your moans fill the quiet room, you can't help but move your hand to wrap around his erection. Your grip is firm, your strokes measured as you watch his face contort with pleasure. His eyes are closed, his head thrown back, and the noises he makes are pure, unadulterated ecstasy. You stroke him faster, your hand moving in a rhythm that matches the beat of your racing heart.

His hips buck upward, meeting your hand with each stroke, his breath coming in short, ragged pants. You can feel the tension in his body, the coiled spring of his muscles ready to snap. And when he's right there, on the precipice of climax, his head falls forward into the crook of your neck, his mouth finding your skin.

The feel of his needy moans against your flesh sends a shiver down your spine, your own body responding to the raw, primal sounds. You tighten your grip, your strokes becoming quicker, more erratic, your own breathing syncing with his. Each moan that escapes his lips is like a command, urging you to bring him over the edge.

His body tenses beneath you, his muscles tightening like a bowstring about to snap. And then it happens. With a guttural moan, he cums undone in your hand, his release hot and sticky as it coats your palm and fingers. His hips jerk upward, his cock pulsing in your grip as he rides out the waves of pleasure. His eyes squeeze shut, and his breath comes out in sharp gasps.

For a moment, there's silence, save for the sound of your own racing heart and his labored breathing. You sit there, still straddling him, watching him come down from the high of his orgasm. His chest is heaving, his eyes still closed as he savors the feeling.

You slide from his lap, relaxing into your couch as the weight of your actions crashes over you. You turn your back to him, biting your lip as you think about what to do next.

Jake watches you, his eyes tracing the curves of your body, still trying to regain his breath. He reaches out, his hand brushing against your arm, his touch gentle but insistent. "Look at me," he murmurs, his voice raspy and rough.

You turn to him with a breathy sigh, avoiding his gaze. Jake notices your averted eyes, his fingers moving to your chin, gently lifting it until you're forced to meet his gaze. 

"Don't look away," he whispers, his eyes searching yours. "I want to see you."

"Jake," you whisper his name, eyes softening at his expression. You knew it wasn’t a mistake, it couldn't be, not on your part. You've been in love with him your whole life, but what if it was all lust for him. 

Jake cups your face in his hands, his thumbs tracing the lines of your cheekbones. He can see the mixture of emotions in your eyes - love, lust, fear, and regret. He gently shakes his head, his gaze intense.

“Jake, is this really what you wanted?” you take a deep breath, “Not just some game to you?” 

Jake watches you intently as you withdraw, his hands falling to your waist, his touch firm yet gentle. "This isn't a game to me," he says, his voice serious. "It never was." 

He pulls you closer, his eyes locked onto yours. "I've always wanted you, more than anything else," he continues, his fingers tracing patterns on your skin. "But I thought I lost my chance with you a long time ago." he presses a soft kiss to your chest. 

The tension in your body vanishes the second he speaks, you relax into his touch, audibly sighing. “Always?”

Jake smiles, his hands roaming your body as if trying to memorize every contour. "Always," he confirms, his voice a whisper. "Since we were kids." He pulls you onto his lap, cradling you against his chest. He can feel your tension melting away, replaced by an air of comfortable intimacy.

“You’re confusing,” you sigh, feeling his hands pulling you closer to him, his chin resting on top of your breasts. 

Jake chuckles, his breath warm against your skin. "I know," he replies, his arms encircling you possessively. "I've always had a habit of making you scratch your head, haven't I?"

He nuzzles his face against your chest, his tongue tracing a gentle line between your cleavage. "But that's nothing new," he whispers, his voice husky with desire. "I've always gotten a kick out of confusing you."

You gasp in response to his tongue, hands squeezing his shoulders. “Mm, fuck.” Jake feels your hands clenching his shoulders, and he grins against your skin, his tongue continuing to explore the valley between your breasts. 

"Language, princess," he teases, his voice laced with amusement. "You know how I feel about filthy mouths."His lips move up to your neck, gently nipping at the sensitive skin. "Makes me want to shut you up."

“Are you going to be able to be professional at work?” your murmur, hands tangling in his hair as you force him to look at you.

Jake chuckles, his eyes meeting yours. "Are you kidding me?" he counters, his grin widening. "When have I ever been professional when it comes to you?"

He shakes his head, pulling you closer until your bodies are flush against each other. "I've been trying to hide how I feel about you for years. Do you really think now that I've finally got you in my arms, I'm going to play it cool at work?"

“Jake,” you purse your lips at him, pressing a quick peck to his. “You know that I already have a problem with your coworkers…I don't want to make it worse.”

Jake lets out a groan of frustration, his hands moving to the small of your back, pulling you even closer. "I know, I know," he mutters, his lips returning to your neck. "But can you blame me for acting like a possessive jerk? You've got all those guys drooling over you, and it drives me insane."

“They only drool over me because of how form fitting my uniform is,” you reply sweetly, “Now imagine if they saw me in a bikini.” you whisper against his ear teasingly. 

Jake's grip on you tightens, his breath hitching at your words. "A bikini," he repeats, his voice dropping an octave. "Now that's a mental image I'll have trouble getting out of my head."

He pulls back slightly to look at you, his gaze dark with desire. "You like teasing me, don't you?" he accuses, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips. "You know what that does to me."

“I think we need to take a beach trip one of these days,” you smile innocently.

Jake's hands continue to roam your body, his touch growing more possessive. "A beach trip?" he echoes, his mind already filling with images of you in a bikini. "That's a dangerous idea, princess."

He leans in, his lips moving to your ear. "But I like how you think," he murmurs, his voice low and seductive.

[heartilywrites]

i rlly like your gyomei fic! :3

can i request some tragic yet wholesome stuff w him?

the reader is a fragile health person, however she's very stubborn and often overwork to the point of fainting. that’s because they’re gyomei’s childhood friend (and fiancé maybe) and often times she feel guilty for not being strong enough to be a demon slayer. they probably work w lady amane.

،، 𝓒ommunication ; G. Himejima

request guide | masterlist

resume: where a visit to the butterfly estate made Gyomei realize something.

content warning: hurt to comfort ; Gyomei Himejima x fem!reader ; established relationship; r is not a slayer ; it totally comes with angst ; i feel like its a bit ooc for amane's dialogues,,, ill let you decide on that ; no use of y/n

wc: 1.7k

a/n: HI thank you i'm glad you liked the fic <33 i loved doing this one, i'm weak to write angst i love it. THANK YOU FOR REQUESTING, LOVE, ENJOY:D banner does not represent r in any way, it's just a painting i liked <3

“ All your thoughts running through your head, the things you think better left unsaid.

Shinobu took a step out of the room when the sound of a crow squawking and heavy footsteps were suddenly heard, a stone hashira with concern painted all over his face was what her eyes met in a fraction of second.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Where is she? Is she okay? What happened?” the older one asked, desperate.

Kocho smiled softly and nodded. “She is okay, Himejima, she's sleeping right now, but you can stay and let her tell you what happened.”

Gyomei nodded back and took his step in the room where you were laying down, peacefully sleeping after such scary event. You, his beautiful fiancée, the love of his life, the person who had seen all his phases, looking so fragile before him. After sitting to your left, his big hands took your closest one with such caution and love, the warm feeling of your skin made him sigh in relief. Gyomei could hear your very slow and almost imperceptible breaths, he tried to replicate them to calm his nerves.

You knew you shouldn't be working more than you could handle, you knew how your health could change drastically in a blink of an eye, then why were you doing it anyway? Gyomei couldn’t get through his head how foolish you could be. He loved you, oh, you had no idea the amount of love the stone hashira felt for you ever since meeting you when you two were children and seeing you not taking care of yourself like you were supposed to be doing made him feel angry. Angry at Amane for not stopping you after you usually insisted that you could handle another heavy task, angry at you for not recognizing your own limits and more important: angry at himself for not being able to take care of you like he wanted to.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Gyomei?” the calling of his name in such a hoarsely manner made his face lit up a bit, your free hand made contact with his face to clean the tears streaming down his cheeks. “I'm sorry.”

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “I thought we had an agreement.” he whispered, his voice didn’t sound mad, but you either way made a small grimace. “You are supposed to take care of yourself instead of being out there working.”

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Gyomei, stop...” you shook your head, taking away the hand he was holding. “You don't understand–”

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Oh, no, I do understand.” he cut you off. “I understand that you don't care about your own well-being, you're the one who doesn't understand how if this does not stop soon, it will only get worse with time. Don't I provide enough for you to not worry? Why do you keep doing this?”

Your eyes blinked astonished to his words, that had to be the first time he talked to you like that. “This is not about you, Gyomei, it's about how this” your hands signaled the room and yourself. “Makes me weak, I'm not strong enough to be a demon slayer, I'm not good enough to help out there in such dangerous times we live, when help is much needed out there and you better than anyone else know this.”

Now the man was the one who was in a loss of words. He didn’t know you felt like that, he definitely was feeling bad to jump so quick to attack you like that.

Your relationship had been build up by communication and trust, and Gyomei felt like he maybe hadn't been asking the correct questions or worse, you just didn’t trust him with your feelings about your condition like he thought you did.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “I want to be left alone, please.” you said when he tried to talk again, wanting to apologize. “We can talk later.”

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “I... I have a mission.” he answered with a sigh leaving his mouth. “I'll be quick and we can talk about this when I get back.”

A small humming noise vibrated on your throat, agreeing. “Take care, honey, I love you.”

Gyomei adored the way you always said the sweetest of things when he needed to leave you for a couple of hours or days even if you two were having an argument just before leaving. His job had always put his life on the line and even if you were mad at him, you knew it was a thing of the moment, something temporary that you wouldn't risk for it to be permanent in his mind, if anything happened you wanted him to remember you loved him, you always had and always will.

The stone hashira left a small kiss on your forehead after a whispered 'I love you too' had sounded and a ephemeral smile was shown your way before leaving, you watched him leave while playing with your engagement ring. You weren't double thinking about marrying him at all, you were totally sure you wanted to be his wife, you had been dreaming for quite some time now about being his wife, but the previous talk made you nervous about what he would say when he came back.

Both of you had this heartache the days Gyomei was out on the mission. That time was well used by the hashira, his mind thought about your words, he acknowledged your feelings towards your situation and he realized just then why you were so eager to be always helping Amane, it was your way to feel useful under the corporation. His heart felt both warm and shattered to such realization.

His walk back took him longer than defeating the demon he was assigned to take out, the stone hashira was practicing what he could say to you, the things he wanted you to know. Before arriving to his estate, Gyomei had bought a bouquet of your favorite flowers; when he entered by the front door and at the moment he wasn't greeted by a crushing hug from you, his feet turned back around and started to walk to the Master's estate knowing fully well you'll be there.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Himejima!” Amane greeted happily when he was announced, the named one bowed to her. “I'm glad you came back safe. Your fiancée is just bringing some important documents we needed, she'll be back soon.”

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Thank you for taking care of her.” he said smiling softly to the pale woman, she shook her head a bit.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “No need, I try to give her the easiest tasks to prevent any issues, but she's quite the stubborn girl, huh?” the hashira smiled bright at your description.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “I know, I will talk to her about it, we don't want anything bad happening to her.” he finished just when the sound of your steps began to be louder.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Gyomei, you're back!” you exclaimed in such a sweet way he felt finally complete. “Here you go, Amane, may I leave now?”

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Sure, no problem!” the white haired woman smiled big to the two of you. “Enjoy your time, I'll see you tomorrow.”

You took your fiancé's arm to walk back to your shared estate.

Halfway through he remembered the bouquet and extended it to you, when you gasped happy he smiled, brighter at the thank you your mouth said. Once back to the estate, you were quick to put the flowers in a vase and sit beside your fiancé, Gyomei looked for your hand and left caresses on the back of it when he found it.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “I want to begin,” he said before you. “I would like to apologize to you, my love, I wasn't aware of how you felt and now that I know I get why you like to push yourself, but I really want you to take care of yourself.” your eyes were scanning your partner's face while he talked. “You are the most precious thing I have in my life, my rock where I can find rest, the first one to lend a helping hand when I need it.”

Your free hand went to place to the big one taking your other, the feeling of your touch made Gyomei feel an electric current travel his back.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Please, know that I just want to protect you from everything I can, if I need to fight Muzan with my bare hands just to assure you will be okay trust me that I will do it.” your face started to feel warmer to such comment. “I'm sorry that you feel like you're of no help, but you couldn’t be more wrong, you're such an important piece in this corporation just as any of us are. Not fighting demons doesn't make you any less important.”

His eyes started to tear, your own were glossy with tears as well at such beautiful words he was saying to you.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “I will take better care of myself, love.” you answered after a couple of seconds of silence. “I promise, I won't overwork myself.”

Gyomei smiled a little bit. “You know? I always knew you would be such a strong and hardworking woman when we played together and you were the one putting all of us in order.”

You giggled, cleaning the couple of tears that had escape your eyes. “Well, it was always a mess to play something as a group, someone needed to guide that mess.”

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “What if our kids happen to be a mess themselves? Like our old friends.” the question made your face grew hotter.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Gyomei Himejima, we haven't gotten married yet and you are already planning kids.” now it was your fiancé's turn to giggle.

The rest of the afternoon felt lighter, with everything sorted out you two could finally breath again. Not even after decades of knowing each other a fight took a bad turn, ever since you two were friends at childhood when one got angry to the other it was just a matter of talking it. Obviously it took a bit of try and error for your relationship to get to this exact point, but the path was definitely worth it to such beautiful relationship you two had built together.

[binniesbooks]

ahh hi my fayebae(idk is this cute?if its not I can think of another one)

anyways i thought real hard and long for this(while eating ice cream since its so hot here rn) but here's my idea!! gyu and reader are school rivals of a certain sport(u can choose the sport), let's just say boys and girls are both on the team!

they are pretty popular/well known (cos it looks like one wrong move and they would rip each other throat's out) but also cos they are both captains of their own school team!

but what others don't know, is that the whole tension and rivalry that they put on, is just an act. behind close doors well, one can say they are more than friends 🤭 seeing that after every game. they are both nowhere in sight.

(honestly dont mind switch between gyu and reader?? but u can choose who would take the lead n such idm!!) like it'll be hawt ughhh please ofc include smut!!(gyu eating out reader if possible I'm on my knees😳n anything else that is pleasurable for both of them heheh) everything else is up to u!!🤍

idk if this is any good cos this is like my 2nd ask of a fic to anyone T-T I rlly hope this inspires u <3

• LOCKED AND LOADED

BG 001 .F23 2024

wc 3.8k

pairing rival(?)!beomgyu x fem!reader

warning cursing, unprotected sex, oral sex, cum playing, dangerous activity(gun holding) (tell me if I missed anything)

faye's note dedicated to my one and only dearest Beomgyu's kitten, @babymochibeargyu here you goooo! I'm sorry for the delay, I feel bad omg. But here's a little TMI, I rewatched one of TODO episodes for this kkkkk! Plus I did my own research tooooo! But, okay, I know there's no Olympics likes this but just imagine. Omg. Kkkkk bye!

Btw, I feel like I'm being surrounded with bamtoris 😋 ❤️

2024 Campus Olympics

"And...they're out!" The crowd roared from cheers and disappointment coming from the bleachers as the big screen showed the "GAME OVER" sign.

"We have our semi-finalist! Ladies and gentlemen! ELITE EAGLES!" The crowd roared once again at the announcer's statement. You heard the deafening sound as you and your teammates stepped out from the range. The air was thick with competition and excitement.

This sport has been ongoing for years now. The sport that requires skill, accuracy, precision, and speed, is a shooting game. However, the guns used in this competition are nerfed, to lessen the power and accidents that may happen. You and Beomgyu's school had been the biggest rivals in this sport. Making it the spotlight and main event of the Camp Olympics.

"Now! Who will be our champion of the year?! Will it be the ELITE EAGLES?" the crowd cheered again, "Or our defending champions, the ALPHAS!" The crowd grew louder, you glanced at the other side of the entrance of the range. And there he was, standing all proud with a smirk plastered on his face, it was no other than your only rival, Beomgyu.

You clutched at the nerfed gun you were holding as your teammate were fixing their protective vests and head gears.

"This will be the game of the century for both of these teams! For the past 2 years, they have scored 1-1 so far, who will conquer this time?" The commentator announced. You could practically feel the stretch of the veins in their neck with the way they shouted.

It's been two years since you joined this sport, you were still a sophomore at that time. And this time, it was your last and final year to play, craving for the victor's crown. Beomgyu had been your rival from the start, making it his last and final year to play too.

Beomgyu turned his gaze towards yours, grinning at how you were practically boring holes in his head. As you line up in front facing each other's team, the fiery stare and sharp remarks on the field had all the students buzzing, and it seemed like a single misstep would ignite a full-blown feud.

"Go Eagles, we soar, we flight! United and bold, in the heart of fight!"

"Who's got the power, the strength, the drive? We are the Alphas, we thrive, we thrive!"

The cheer squad from both teams were doing their best to boost their player's determination. Showing off their respected school representative animals from banners to mascots, cheers to flaglets. The rivalry, driven by pride and competition, garners attention from everyone as both teams relish in the spotlight. The tension is palpable, with the upcoming round heightened by mutual taunts and challenging glances, fueling their status as competitors.

"Players! Lock and Load!" the rumbling sound of cheers and shouts envelops the field.

2022 Campus Olympics

"Y/n, you should definitely join, I swear it will be worth it." Yeonjun, your president of the photography club recommended joining the Lock and Load sports club. He used to be the team captain but since he and the members were about to graduate, he needed to keep the club alive. Persuading you to join and be the captain of the team.

"Jjun," his face crumpled at the name, "I really can't do that, prez. Look, I'm already in this photography club, I can't manage my time. " You sighed.

"Says the one who can stay up all night to watch her favorite movies but can't even accept her president's slash friend's request." He yapped and yawned.

"Fine!" You stomped your feet, "If you were not just my president and one of my dearest friends, I wouldn't have considered your request at all!" You crossed your arms, pouting as you hear his light laughs envelope the room

"We have a new champion! Ladies and gentlemen! Elite Eagles!" Your crowd cheered on you. This annual event is a big event for your schools. And you felt the proud look from the participants of your school. Being the champion in this sport was a normal occurrence especially when Yeonjun was still the captain. So as you turned to him, his smile was the brightest you had ever seen.

As you turn to the other side, you see your opponent's team. You can't see any disappointment in their eyes, but their aura practically screams revenge. Their team captain caught your eye. He's tall and looked like he had a pleasing personality the way he was talking to his teammates. Well, that's what you can see.

As your two teams gathered up in front for a handshake to show sportsmanship, you hesitated at the way he was smiling at you. You raised your hand to shake his, but you feel strange.

"Congratulations." The word rolled out of his mouth so smooth and sweet yet full of threat. Your skin crawled at how cold his palm was. You immediately pulled back your hand as you felt an electric sensation radiating off of him through you. A palpable tension between you ignited when both of your eyes met, frowning faces as if about to kill each other. -- That's when everybody knew, you would be the biggest rivals of this sport.

"I told you, you can do it!" Yeonjun said as he ruffled your hair while walking with your team. "All of you, you did well too, I knew you could do it." Greeting the group made them cheer and thank Yeonjun, for the support he gave and the persuasion he did.

"Are you coming?" One of your teammates shouted outside asking you if you would go with them to celebrate, but you're still not finished taking a bath to remove the sweaty scent that makes you feel icky. "I will! But go ahead, I'll catch up later." You confirmed. You heard the door closed. It was really good to have such a facility that caters for your annual school events. The big field could accommodate all of the participating schools for the event, and the participants' team themselves had their own rooms to stay in. You were more than happy, you got to experience using these athlete's rooms plus you even won the championship of Lock and Load.

You were about to leave when you stopped in your tracks as you saw someone standing leaning on the wall in the hallway. He's wearing your opponent's uniform.

"Hey there. Come with me for a while."

2023 Campus Olympics

"They're three points left behind with 2 minutes remaining! Will Alphas catch up or will they be the ones to win the championship?" The roaring crowd ignites the desperation of both teams to win.

With a ten-point difference, Alphas won the game. The victory wasn't supposed to be theirs but their captain changed plans last minute. The prideful face of Beomgyu shined bright as he walked out of the range. His grin grew wider when you were in his sight. You couldn't help but roll your eyes and turn your back to him. This rivalry between the two schools will get bigger, given the fact that you two will be playing your last games next year. The score tied at 1-1, the next annual event will be the tiebreaker.

"It's fine really. We do lose too, even before." Despite being a graduate student, Yeonjun still gives his full support to the Elite Eagles' Lock and Load team, patronizing them, especially at this event, he is also the acting coach of the team as of now. Besides, he was the reason why your school has its own team for the Lock and Load sport. He tried to cheer you up, tapping every slumped shoulder of every player.

You forced a smile at him, trying your best not to look too bad. "I have an idea. I'll buy tonight's dinner for you guys. I can't look at your droopy faces." He volunteered, gathering some "Coach, you don't have to" and "Hyung, you don't have to" as answers. "No, I insist."

When your fellow players got up to head to the accommodation room, you stayed behind at one of the benches for players near the range. Yeonjun sat beside you. "Don't be so disheartened. You know, there's still one more year for you. I know you'll make it." He ruffled your hair, giving you a bottle of energy drink.

"Replenish your energy. Then come over to the team dinner." Maybe Yeonjun felt that your silence had screamed that you wanted to be alone for a while. He put his hand in his pocket as he walked away.

"Come out. I know you're there." The same person from the opponent's team, leaning on the post not too far from where you are sitting, is hidden away from eyes that can see both of you.

Present

Your team ran through the course, earning points at each shot. For the past years, you have Beomgyu as an opponent, you could say that you can read his plans and movements. Allowing you to move and think faster than him. His teammates were quick, but you and your teammates trained yourself to be wary and not let your guard down.

"This is an interesting and intense game of the century!" You almost scoffed at the figures of speech the announcers had been using in their comments.

"Shit, that was a close call!" You muttered as you hid yourself on a stack of sacks, you were almost hit by his teammate. "Attention eagles! I can see their position from here. E7, proceed under the truck, someone's behind the wall. E5, someone just ran near your position. E6, remain seated, they might see you. Others, stick to the plan, be careful!" You quietly talked to your teammates as you distributed their tasks.

All 8 members of each team can earn points as much as they can, each shot is equivalent to a certain point depending on what part of the body the bullet hits. The suit and protective vests that the player wore had built-in sensors, that whenever an opponent’s bullets hits it, it would automatically count as a point.

It's almost the end of the round, and with 9 minutes remaining, the score was 88-67 with your team at the lower end. You're frustrated-- Beomgyu irks you so much. With 8 minutes remaining, you kept on shooting at any opponent that came your way. You did not camp anymore. Moving from one place to another. 7 minutes remaining, the crowd became louder. Your mind is blurry to think of a strategy. 6 minutes remaining, your teammates are trying to reach you but to no avail. 5 minutes remaining, you don't have much time left, you can't just remain still. 4 minutes remained, and you dashed to the opponent's base aiming for their captain, receiving a few glancing blows in the process. 3 minutes remaining, you covered yourself near the metal wall. 2 minutes remaining, the score ascended to 112-103, but still, your team was at the lower end.

The firing from others has ceased, probably killing the 2 minutes remaining to save energy and steady the scores. You roamed your eyes through the opponent's base. No captain in sight. "Shit, am I too late?" You muttered, slowly walking to search for him. You were about to step out of their base when you heard someone.

"Hands behind your head." The voice commanded. Fucking hell, you're doomed.

....

Both teams step out of the range with loud cheers from the crowd.

"We almost did it. We were so close."

"Man, that was close."

"This is my last year already."

Clear disappointment, was what you heard.

"Ladies and gentlemen! The game of the century has now officially ended! Our champion! No other than..." Your ears practically ring with the announcer's shouting voice.

"ELITE EAGLES!" Your team cheered as much as the crowd did, jumping and shouting their lungs out.

You turn to Beomgyu, one of his hands in his pocket, and the other still holding the gun. He smiled at you, mouthing a 'congratulations'. You nodded before you were called to line up and shake each other's hands.

"The annual Campus Olympics has officially ended. This is your official commentator of the year's event, Kim Jun-soo, signing off."

"Woah! How did you do it, captain? I thought we were going to lose!" Your teammates were overjoyed, but still not over the fact that you won.

"See? I told you, you can do it. And look you actually did!" Yeonjun placed his cap on your head. "Nice job, team captain."

"I..thank you." You were out of words -- no, you were out of this world actually.

"Hey, dinner is on--"

"Coach, the organizers gave me a stub. Dinners are on them for both teams." Yeonjun was cut off by one of your teammates.

Hearing the free dinner, Yeonjun cheered with your teammates. Free dinner = not a single cent to be spent.

"See you later then, rest for now, we still have plenty of time," Yeonjun announced.

...

"Hey move over, the seat is empty." Bickering can be heard from the next table in the restaurant reserved for the players. Yeonjun sighs, for three consecutive years, you haven't attended the team dinner. You are, again, not in sight.

"By any chance, have you seen Captain?"

"Oh yeah, Beomgyu is not here again. I wonder why the seat's empty."

"How many years has it been? 2?"

"Three years. He did not attend any single team dinner at all."

"Forget it, eat to your heart's content. He might not just wanna attend."

Yeonjun's head snapped at what he had just heard. Alphas and Elite Eagles have been rivals for so long. You and the other team's captain have been rivals for three years. And neither of you has attended team dinners for three consecutive years too. Was something going on? Or was he just overthinking it?

"Gyu... Beomgyu..." You whined.

"Shhh, stay still." He whispered.

"Ahh... Beomgyu..." his name rolling off your tongue so sweet it makes him feel tingly.

Your grip on his hair tightens a little bit, "More... I want more..." Your words are shaky and needy.

Beomgyu held your thighs to keep them steady, lapping at your sweet wetness. "Why are you so needy right now?" He asked sucking at your clit. Your back arched at his action. "I...I want more, please... I want you." He pulled back a little bit, just a few inches away from your dripping cunt. His hot puffs of breath make you shiver and whine for me. "N-no teasing..." Your legs felt weak. Shaking. Trembling. "But I love you being so needy, captain. I like seeing you squirm under me." Your hand clasped your mouth, refraining from moaning, the term captain gives butterflies to your stomach.

"Captain, just so you know, I love how you moan my name, I love how you make that face when you cum. I love it when you whine and whimper." His eyes are fixed on you while he's kissing your inner thighs. He watches the rising and falling motion of your exposed chest.

"Now, say my name again, will you?" He uttered, getting ready to dive in you again.

His hot and slippery tongue licked a stripe on your cunt, making your back arch once again as you gripped tightly on his sheets. "Beomgyu... Cap..captain Gyu.." you yelped, "I'm gonna cum.. please.." he likes this so much. He likes it when you beg for him to take care of you.

"Let it out, captain." He smirked as he continued tongue fucking you. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head, you quivered as you reached your high. Beomgyu's bed was a total mess, from your thrashing, from your sweat, from your squirming.

"This never changed, you always taste good, captain. Ever since we were young." He grasped your waist to pull you closer, sucking your remaining cum from the intense orgasm he gave you. He sat down on the edge of the bed, just to rest for a while, but he did not expect what you were about to do.

You crawled down on him, between his legs. You look up at him as you lay your cheek on one of his thighs. He smirked at your quirks. He grabbed a gun from his table drawer. Pointing it on your temple. Your eyes flutter at him as he smiles sweetly at you. "Do it for me, yeah,?" He motions at his belt. Beomgyu owns a licensed gun, it was your gift when you two just turned 18. Probably the reason why he joined lock and load.

You carefully unbuckled his belt and unzipped his pants agonizingly slow. The cold muzzle kissing your sweaty temple. You were still staring at him, he was biting his lips, abs clenching at the sight. You pumped him a few times causing him to groan at your work.

"Careful, Captain. Fuck." One hand still holding the gun pointed at you, another gripping at the sheets.

You spit on his cock, a makeshift lube, as you bobbed your head carefully. His breath was shaky and hot. Lips were now red at how he occasionally bit them from the sensation.

Your tongue prodded at his tip, trying to lick his slit.

"Ahh, fucking shit, y/n.." His hips were thrusting up to your mouth.

"Do it again. Fuck, do that again." He commanded when you stop licking his slit. One more move and he will fall from the bed.

You took him whole --that's when he lost it, he holds your head with both of his hands, still clutching onto the gun.

He was fucking your throat, your gag reflex kicking in, "Shit, god damn it y/n, I'm sorry!" Despite the apology, his movement did not stop one bit, if anything, he even moved a bit rougher.

"C-can I cum in your m-mouth?" His words fumbling, the muscles of his legs tensing. "P-please tell me if I can. I-i'm... Shit. Ahh! I'm close.." he stammered.

You hummed, causing him to lose himself at the resonance. His cock throbbed inside your mouth as white spurts of cum painted your mouth.

He quickly tossed the gun on his bed as he pulled you up to straddle him. One hand resting on your hand, the other on your chin. "Open your mouth." You opened your mouth, very carefully, not wanting to spill his milk. He pressed his thumb on your tongue, playing with his cum, as he let it spill out, trailing down to his hand.

"You always make me horny." He licked his thumb before pulling you to a fervent kiss. You started grinding on him as he kissed you with so much longing. He easily slipped inside of you with your slick still dripping on your thighs, causing you to gasp allowing him to fuck your throat with his tongue. You started to roll your hips in a circular motion causing him to curse. "Are we doing it raw again, captain?" You asked, but he dodged your answer with another question.

"Captain, I-I just came. How could you?" He wrapped his arms around your waist. You stilled before pulling away, "The stunt you pulled is dangerous," you pouted, "What if you suddenly killed me? I bought that for you as a souvenir when I went to the States. I did not expect it to be used against me." You crossed your arms. He planted a sweet kiss on your lips, "Rule number 2, firearms should be unloaded when not actually in use," he shrugged, "The magazine ain't intact." He added.

Your mouth gaped, you were dumbfounded, all this time your heart had been racing thinking about the danger that might actually happen. But in fact, it was actually unloaded.

"Damn you! I was scared to death! I thought --"

"You thought? You thought what?" He cuts you off when he starts thrusting, stretching you out. You hid your face in the crook of his neck.

"Wow, that's cheating, making an excuse to moan on my ears." His moves were unchanging, deeply thrusting in your sloppy cunt.

You can't help yourself but moan, not when he's gripping your waist to push his girthy cock deeper on you.

"Captain... Captain, you're hitting the right s-spots..." You moaned as you stayed glued to his sweaty body.

"I-i'll pull out. I'll pull out c-captain." His words stuttered as his moves also stuttered.

"Don't, please Gyu. I want you to cum inside, I'm on the pill." You buried your face more in his neck, embarrassed hearing yourself begging him to cum in you.

"How can I say no when you're c-clenching on my c-cock. Shit, I'm close." He huffed. You clenched more, you want him so much. You're desperate to feel his warm cum filling you up.

"C-captain, c-can I rub my..." You're too shy to finish your sentence, but he pulled the words out of your mouth when he started moving his fingers on your clit in a circular motion."Captain! Captain, fuck! Oh god!" You were both ecstatic rushing to chase your highs.

He restrained your hands behind your back as he started moving harder, abusing your stretched cunt. You moved closer to him, to his ears, moaning at it purposely, pushing him to the edge as he spilled inside you.

He continued fucking you and rubbing your clit despite the fact he had reached his own orgasm, overstimulating himself. "Fuck it fucking h-hurts! Fucking hell!" You can't hear any words from him other than his resounding curses until you are squirting on him. He was chasing his breath as he laid his forehead on your shoulder.

"I love this so much... I love you... You're so hot squirting on my cock.. sexy." He muttered. You pulled him into a hug, slight movements causing the both of you to wince. I love you too, Captain.." You whispered.

All you can hear in the room is the ticking of the clock, the thumping of your chest, and the heavy pants and breaths coming from both of you.

"Why did you do it, Gyu?" You look at him, eyes searching for answers. He just smiled.

"Hands behind your head." It was Beomgyu. You're doomed.

"Hello there, Miss Captain." He clicks his tongue as he stares at you. "You really wanted to win, yeah?" He added.

"Ah-ah! Do not move! Give me your gun." He commanded making you flinch, you glanced at the timer on his suit, less than one minute remaining. You handed him your gun and placed your hands behind your head again.

"Do me a favor." You looked at him confused, "What favor?" 30 seconds remaining.

"Call me captain." Short, yet precise words.

"What?" Your eyebrows furrowed.

"I said, call me captain." 20 seconds.

"Look, I don't know what-"

"Call. Me. Captain. Right now." His voice was full of authority. 10 seconds remaining.

9

8

7

6

5

4

3... "Captain!"

2

1... "Bang!" You flinched at what you've heard, he pulled the trigger! Beomgyu fucking pulled the trigger.

But it wasn't his gun, it was yours, and the muzzle was pressed on his headgear.

10 points were added to your score, a headshot is equivalent to 10 points. The score ascends to 102-113.

@binniesbooks 2024

[mysticficti0n]

hiyaaa I love the Colby fic and I was wondering if you could do a short one of like y/n gong through a break up but she doesn't tell him or sam (and could Kat be in it- they're all roomates sorta thing) and she doesn't rlly come out her room and they get worried until Colby goes up and she breaks and he comforts her- like fluffy stuff plz

omg yes this sounds so cutie so ofcc!!! I don't know if its great as I'm very tired but I hope you guys enjoy, It feels good to be writing for someone new but I do still love Tokio Hotel !! I did a very quick proof read but if I missed anything sorry !!

Broken Heart

･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

warnings- ColbyBrockxFem/Reader, swearing, fluff, comfort, best friends, care, reader is cheated on

words- 1.7k

Y/n's POV

"I don't understand why you're so angry Y/n?" Justin looked to me, my eyes narrowed "she was just a fri-"

"Shut the fuck up! you keep saying she was a friend but friends don't fuck each other" I screamed- it was killing me, my boyfriend of 6 years cheating on me with his 'friend', his friend who is his phone had hearts next to her name, every message had a 'xxx' at the end, winky faces and peaches shared until one day...today, I go to his apartment 5 minuets from mine to see him in bed, his hands laying on the red-heads hips

"I-it's just a miss understanding Y/n please!" he begged but I couldn't forgive him- not for this "look let me apologise and we can re-start"

"yeah after 6 whole years? good idea Justin let me just forget everything huh?" I yelled, his eyes dropped he knew I wasn't going to take it "just leave"

"no- Y/n I can make it up to you" he pleaded again and again, hands reaching for mine but I pulled away, backing from him

"get the fuck out of my house Justin" my voice was low "go through the fucking door and don't come back- get out" I watched him give me one more look and he left, leaving me with the haunting memories of him with someone else, those 6 years down the drain. The pain settled in quicker then expected, my chest heaved up and down as I sobbed into my pillow as I stared into the images of me and him dotted around my room, the light from the day slowly faded leaving me in darkness, only figures in my room kept me company, my face ached, my whole body did, especially my head so I decided to sleep, sleep would keep me safe, sleep was quiet, sleep was calm.

Kat's POV

Me, Sam and Colby walked into the house, it was silent, no music or tv playing which was unusual if Y/n and Justin were in "think they went out or something I mean its 9- might be like their date night?" Sam spoke putting his keys onto the kitchen island

"Maybe... I'll check up stairs" I smiled quickly leaving the two to find Y/n, I got to her door and pushed it open to see her room pitch black, not any of her candles lit, or lamp on "Y/n?" I whispered and a body shifted under the covers "Y/n, you okay?" I spoke coming in a little more to her room

"fine, just tired" she hummed turning over facing away from me in the doorway

"oh okay- where's Justin?" I asked, most days he's in the house, I mean he was meant to move in with us in a few weeks

"I dunno" she answered in a yawn, I oh'ed, the mood didn't feel right but I decided to leave her in peace, I closed the door and made my way into mine and Sam's room, he was sat on the bed flicking through his phone until he saw me walk in

"she okay?" he asked

"think so- said she is and she's tired" he nodded looking back to his phone "Justin isn't here though" his gaze flicked back up to which I just nodded

"he basically lives here, why wouldn't he be here? and its a Saturday night and ever since they got together he was here every weekend" I shrugged climbing in bed next to the blonde, resting my head on him

"who knows"

The night went by, and the three of us were up in the kitchen, the clock read '12:48pm' and Y/n was still In her room, still in silence, I told Colby what I had told Sam and he seemed just as confused, we decided to order some dinner, just something small and ordered Y/n some too, I was sure something had happened but... maybe I was thinking to much into it

"foods here" Sam spoke bring it in, Colby was half way up the stairs as he said he was going to go get his hoodie from his room "Colby grab Y/n" the other called getting a thumbs up by him

Colby's POV

I jumped up the rest of the stairs going to Y/n's room first, it was weird for her not to be up, she's always awake before me at least but the house was just missing her, I knocked twice before hearing a voice murmur a small 'come in' I pushed it open and saw her body curled in her coves, curtains pulled shut, and tissues thrown onto the floor "hey- you okay?" I asked coming over to the side of the bed where it was empty. Her eyes flickered open and looked up to me

"yeah- think I'm getting Ill" she hummed, sitting herself up, I looked to her face and saw her nose was red and eyes glossy "just a cold"

"hm yeah- we've got dinner down stairs, got you a burger and fries" I spoke as I watched her, she nodded pulling her sheets away and crawling out the side she walked past me and straight to the stairs, I followed forgetting my hoodie and just went to her side, I could see her clearly now, mascara around her eyes along with dark circles, her hair wet on one side, the usual dark lipstick she wore, smudged against her cheek

"hey Y/n" Kat smiled passing her a bag of food "feeling better?"

"no don't feel it- thanks for the food but I think I'll eat up stairs- don't wanna make you guys sick" she spoke, her voice sounding gravelly and tired

"Y/n we don't care, come sit on the couch with us- we can watch a film or something- we have yours and Justins favourite, Tita-" Sam went to continue until the girl beside me face dropped

"I don't wanna sit down here" was the last thing she snapped before hurrying away and her door slammed, I looked to the others who just stood stunned...

the week carried on, time passing by as it does and still no sight of Y/n, I was getting worried she's never like this, I sat alone down stairs as Kat and Sam had gone out somewhere and the only thing that went through my mind was her, I couldn't help the fact I was thinking of her, Y/n's never in her room if someones in the house or if she is in her room- someones with her

but why is she acting off- everything was so different, I couldn't help but be nosey, it was all in good intention of course, thats what I kept telling myself as I stood ear to the door of her room just listening; her voice mumbled incoherent words, small little cries leaving her every so often, my body relaxed a little to much and I ended up falling against the door "Colby?" her voice called 'fuck' I cursed to myself before pushing her door open again "were you fucking listening through my door?" her tone was angry, a cry halting in her throat

"Look I'm sorry but I'm worried about you" I said, I didn't want to keep it from her, I was worried, scared even "you didn't even eat your food" I spoke looking to the bag still sat scrunched on her desk "what happened?"

"I'm fine Colby okay? For days people keep fucking asking me if I'm okay and I fucking am" she ragged the sheet over her "just get the fuck out"

"Y/n you're not fucking fine- I've known you long enough to know this isn't how you act all the time" I didn't mean for my voice to raise at her but I was annoyed but not with her, she was going through something and didn't want to admit it "what happened" I said, my voice stern. The covers flipped from her body, her eyes welled with tears, face wet

"He fucking cheated on me- There better? you know now, my boyfriend of 6 years cheated on me because I'm not good enough for him and I can't think straight, I feel sick all the goddamn time and all I have every hour is 'you okay Y/n?' No I'm fucking not" her voice broke, the sobs that once heaved in her chest being released

"I'm sorry" I spoke, coming next to her bed, she looked up to me and her face snapped, pearls of tears slipping down her cheeks

"Why wasn't I good enough, Colbs?" she whispered, her voice choked with sorrow, her head buried in her hands. I couldn't bear to see her in such pain. Without thinking, my arms enveloped her fragile frame, pulling her close to my chest as I settled on the edge of her mattress.

"You're more than good enough, Y/n – I promise you that," I reassured her, my voice a soothing balm against the storm of emotions raging within her. Y/n's face found refuge in the curve of my neck, and I could feel the warmth of her tears seeping into my skin. It broke my heart to witness her suffering. "Did he do anything to hurt you?" I asked gently, my concern deepening as I held her tighter. She shook her head, her breath hitching between sobs.

"He... he just said she was a friend, but then I walked in on them having sex at his apartment," she confessed, the pain evident in every word. My fingers traced gentle patterns along her back, offering what little comfort I could. "I just don't understand why," she continued, her eyes red and swollen from the tears. I nodded, listening intently as she poured her heart out.

"He's just stupid, Y/n. You're nothing but perfect," I whispered, my hand tenderly cupping her jaw, guiding her to look into my eyes. "He's the one who's made the biggest mistake of his life by letting someone as amazing as you slip away."

She nodded, her tear-stained eyes reflecting a mix of vulnerability and gratitude. In that moment, as I held her close, I vowed to be her pillar of support – a reminder that despite the pain, she was deserving of love and happiness. Together, we would navigate through the shadows, and I would do everything in my power to mend the shattered pieces of her heart.

"thanks Colby" Y/n smiled, hugging herself back into my chest

[noirsdoll]

-> blurred lines

pairing: james sunderland / bimbo!reader

words: 2.1k

tags: rape, roofieing, thigh fucking, minor panty kink, james is rlly desperate, this is also straight porn like my last james fic, minor suicidal ideation, crazy unexpected surprise at the end!!

notes: i wrote this from 4-5am on a random saturday LMAO this is so self indulgent just some sloppy sex cuz james is horny and out of practice and i want him

read it on ao3

James wants to drown.

As he watches that white tablet sink, down and down through the layers of juice and booze and liqueur, he thinks about how peaceful it must be.

Adrift, lungs filled with water, so close with the ocean that it’s reached inside of him. There is tranquility with death, but James finds himself undeserving of it. He longs for the silence of it all more than the finality.

And then the sounds around him flood back in. The violent boom of the bass, the buzzing light of the lasers. The dimness of the club cannot hide how fucking overstimulating everything is. How is this the place where everyone decides to go?

You chose it, a pretty young thing that is more of an arm piece than a person, who is so lost in whatever banal thing is coming out of James’s mouth that you don’t notice the pill that is fizzing out at the bottom of your drink. James not-so-discreetly glances down at it, white vapours trailing through the murky liquid of whatever fruity thing you ordered.

His palms are sweaty and sticky, he wiped them down his pant legs. It’s so hot in here, his jacket was the wrong choice for tonight it seems. His heart is hammering like crazy, he feels so suffocated here.

You haven’t noticed— or you’re pretending not to notice, James isn’t good at reading people. If he was, he wouldn’t need to be in a dark club where the only thing he can see is the outline of your legs and the sparkle of your eyes.

Fuck, he is really sweating. Will you notice? Will you scream, shout? Point at him and crucify him? This is a horrible idea, an impulse, based on the fear that you might say no and James really cannot handle anymore of those right now.

Maybe he didn’t need to, of course, he didn’t need to, but it was easy and James loves easy. He talks to you, but not too much, he nods when you speak, repeats what you say right back to you to show that he’s listening and you should trust him and to definitely ignore the fact that he just roofied you.

That’s a strong word, James isn’t big on grand gestures, but it was a dumb idea, he’ll admit that— in his head, not to you, not when you bring the glass to your lips and take a sip. Your face wrinkles and you glance at your drink in confusion. James’s stomach drops to his feet.

“It tastes funny all of a sudden. That’s weird.” You smack your lips a couple times for good measure, really coating your mouth in it. James swallows the comical lump in his throat. He didn't use the normal stuff. He used a sleeping pill he had lying around in his jacket pocket. Definitely not colourless or flavourless like the real thing.

“It might have been sitting a while,” he says, like that’s how alcohol works. Usually it tastes better when it’s been laying around, not vice versa.

But you’re dumb and hot, so you just nod and down the rest of it. James is in awe of how he got so lucky. The undissolved residue of the white pill almost glows in the darkness, like a neon sign pointing to James’s offense.

You don’t notice because your fingers are brushing his on the club table, manicured nails tracing the veins on his hands. You give him ‘fuck me’ eyes that he is so sure you have leveled at so many other men. He is just a face in a crowd, a grain of sand in a desert, he is nothing to you.

That’s what he wants.

James can make this work. When you start to droop and slur is when James decides to lug you out of the club. Your body is up against his as you lean on him for stability, flush skin against his cold body. He always runs cold, especially in the night air.

The back seat of his car is stuffy and stained and smells suspiciously of rot. But you don’t notice because you are too busy being half asleep, murmuring intelligible things under your breath.

James gets to work, wondering if he would’ve preferred you saying no to you saying nothing at all. Your heels land on the floor of the car and your panties are tossed onto the front seat for safe keeping.

His hands dwell on the softness of your thighs and your knees and your calves, every womanly curve and bend and your warmth. James’s dick nudges your thigh and he has the realization that he’s able to do whatever he wishes since you are too out of it to frown and complain about ‘being too tired’.

You’re pretty like a sex doll, thighs wider than your waist as he slots his dick between the plush pillows of flesh. He’s dripping pre in syrupy strings, running along the underside of his cock and drooling just like him.

Your thighs are so smooth, but James doubts they’ll compare to your pussy. He holds them tightly together as he fucks them, thighs squeezing the head of his cock as it peeks out through the expanse of fat.

He moans softly into the quiet, humping you more than he’s fucking you, lips sloped over the curve of your ankles. There is so much of you to sink his teeth into, he can’t take it. It’s like he’s fucking a dead body rather than an actual person.

He hikes up the glittery fabric of your dress till it rests right under your tits, baring your stomach. He glances down and stares at the dripping seam of your shaved pussy. Fuck, you are so pretty. James can really see all of you now that you’re in proper lighting.

It feels so good, James whimpers and whines and moans, able to let out any sound he desires while you lay conked out on the car seat. He finally gets to fuck something other than his fist. Not many people are eager to get in bed with him, a big wet dog of a man.

James is gonna cum, he can feel it, and even through his haze he knows this would be a waste if he didn’t at least fuck you once properly. He’ll be careful enough not to blow his load inside though. He’s not good with responsibility.

With reluctance he slips his dick away, your inner thighs are all shiny with him. Keeping your thighs together, the pretty squish of fat, his mouth slinks down, his nose pressed against your clit as he sinks his tongue into you. Your thighs press against his face and almost suffocate him as he eats you out, James has to fight the urge to jerk his cock as he does this. It’s so good.

You start to rouse, your hips squirming, grinding messily against his face. It gets hard to breathe, James doesn’t mind. This is practice for when he eventually drives his car into the ocean, a couple hours after this, he bets.

One big hand holds your stomach down against the car seat, giving him a better position to tongue fuck you. He laps up your slick like a good dog, he loves the taste. He’s missed having a cunt to eat every night.

“James?” You mutter sleepily. It isn’t hard to connect those dots, so he doesn’t congratulate you. When you were looking at him like you wanted to fuck him, he was doing the same back. His mouth is too occupied to want to speak anyways.

Your nails scrape against the seat, he feels your pussy squeeze around his tongue. Drooling all over yourself, only adding to the stains. “James,” you whine, pressing your cunt eagerly against his face. “Did I… fall asleep?”

“Yeah,” he says, pulling his mouth away, licking slick off his lips. “I took care of you though.”

You blink up at him, still clearly out of it. “Oh… okay.” Your hips shift toward him, a silent plea to keep going. You don’t seem to even care that he’s undressed you and put his mouth on you when you’re half asleep. He’s lucky that you’re so dumb. You probably wouldn’t even care if he slipped his dick in.

James gets between your legs again, kissing your clit with two fingers inside you. He lets your thighs part to rest on either of his shoulders, able to see your face drunk on ecstasy. You look down at him and he feels important, like he has something to offer.

You moan his name real pretty too, back curling like a cat as he lets you wind fingers in his hair, nails dragging along his scalp and making him moan.

And then you cum and getting his dick inside you becomes a life or death situation. He runs his cock along your wet slit and you whine, loud. James uses his thumb to guide the head in, he salivates as it dips through that first ring of muscle, disappearing into the fat folds of your pussy. And then you take more and more, every inch of a cock that is much bigger than James deserved.

You’ve already been fucked open countless times, James knows that, he was betting on that, but seeing it in action still sours his mood a little. This is for the best though, no whiny virgin begging him to take it slow. You’ll take your pounding like a good girl.

He fucks you hard and well, your moans shake as his skin smacks against your thighs. You’re so warm and wet, better than a fist or a pillow or a lump of silicone. Nothing beats the real thing, there is so much of you to grab a hold of.

James tugs the spaghetti straps of your dress down to bare your tits, they droop a little once freed from your bra, barely getting the chance before James’s hand swallows them up, fat spilling past his fingers. He doesn’t twist your nipples and hurt you, he just wants to feel you, feel the warmth of a body before the cold release of death.

He lets out an embarrassed whine when you squeeze around him just right, pulling him so close to that edge he has been fighting. So James decides to give up, pulling out, his shaft all shiny with pussy slick, returning to where he really wants his dick.

He slides it back between your thighs, right at the spot that he’s already gotten wet. The extra slide from your pussy makes him moan more. You lay there and watch him, confused and still turned on.

Then your thumb starts to rub his head as it pushes through your thighs and James really can’t take it anymore. He blows his load all over your stomach, spurting thick ropes all over your skin.

And you watch eagerly, dragging your finger through the mess and licking it clean. What a slut.

James does the good samaritan thing and drives you home, helping you back into your heels and vehemently denying you ever wearing panties. And you believe him, walking on shaky legs to your apartment complex.

He watches you leave, grabbing the underwear he hid and draping the gusset over his hard cock. It kicked right back to life almost the second after you both finished, and he needs to take care of it.

James sits there in the driver’s seat, head thrown against the headrest as he fucks his fist up into your panties. The perversion and the memory of you and those pretty lips he could’ve stretched open on cock, the perfect tang of your pussy slick and the wet heat of your cunt have him soaking your underwear in another load.

He already felt bad about drugging you, and now the post nut clarity hits even harder as he peels the soiled fabric off his dick and chucks it in his glove compartment. His car smells like your perfume, it’s a nice touch, James decides to finally do what he’s been wanting to.

It’s an hour later when his car careens off a cliff, sinking down into the murky depths of the water, the moon his only witness.

[unknownati]

Hello friend!

I LOVE everything you write for Ekko. Like it's always within character but you add a lot of fun layers to him that are just soooo fun to read lol.

I hope this doesn't come off as "hurry up" in any way because I know you're a human behind the screen. You're talents is ABSOLUTELY worth waiting for....

...but lemme just say when requests are open ill be dropping some DIABOLICAL smut requests because I KNOW you're gonna do them justice. Literally can't imagine another writer writing them. So I'll wait for however long you need! There's no one else I want to bring my degeneracy to life LOL! Hope you're up for it!

Until then, be kind to yourself! Can't wait to see what you write in the meantime!

🥹

thank u sm, you're so sweet (like literally keep rereading this cuz whaaaat i can't imagine this is actually towards me lol)

and good cuz this is a safe space. no shame on my blog at all

both my reqs are basically almost done, so i think this'll be me opening them back up :)

if you have a req and are wondering the status or are just curious, here are my current wips:

p.s., i'm rlly sorry if you submitted a request and you don't see it here :( sometimes i'm just not quite sure how to make something into an actual fleshed out fic, but if i find one similar to what you're looking for i'll absolutely respond w/ a link for you 🫶🏾

i fr have something written down!!!:

never lose me (req), smut: he treats you sooo special - super close to finished, just wrapping it up and proofreading

happy birthday (req), fluff + smut: how the two of you make each other's bdays special - also almost finished!

sound on, smut: ekko sends you a video...you know the rest 🤭 - i got an intro and some inspo

tap tap tap, smut: ekko keeps tapping his pencil and it's driving you insane - literally fully complete, just doing some proofreading

shopping, fluff + smut: you and ekko are thrifting gods and he really likes the pants you're trying on - half done

girls, smut: fem!stud!ekko x fem!black!reader (y'all knew this was coming since 'dreamin') - half done, i keep forgetting abt it 🙁

busy, smut: ekko spends too much time working and you need some of his attention - half done

just an idea rn:

current timeline (req) fluff: if ekko came to our timeline (sammycutiepie made a similar one!!)

double trouble, minor angst + smut: au!ekko and ekko tag team you 🙃 (maybe, maybe not? this might be weird idk i'll think abt it)

aphrodisiac, smut: you both take those little chocolates and see how long the two of you can resist each other

🪱 , fluff: you wake up ekko to ask if he'd still love you if you were a worm

[bloodfiendarling]

𝓶𝔂𝓬𝓮𝓵𝓲𝓾𝓶 𝓽𝓮𝓶𝓹𝓽𝓪𝓽𝓲𝓸𝓷

a .. anon chan ...? oh my god .. are you a mind reader ? a saint , perhaps ..? ive had a similar idea for months , i just never got to writing it (shy ,,)

thank u so so much for the idv req >_< i didnt think id get any so early .. this fic took heavy inspo from saya no uta , too .. i rlly did give him the fuminori treatment ..

another case of — written by my dick — this is so horrible .. im so sorry frederick sama ..

DEAD DOVE : DO NOT EAT .

pairing — pioneer research!frederick x hallucinated!reader

wc — ~1.1k

contains — coa vii setting, fem reader (the form reader takes , i guess . theyre kind of not real ..), reader referred to with it/its prns, mindfuck, dubcon .? (is it dubcon if hes on shrooms and doing it to himself . i gen dont know, emeto, body horror, hallucinations, reader is a hallucination, self harm (scratching), established past relationship w reader

playing .. mushrooms • mili

even in such a desolate land, frederick still has the desire to create his work — his music. the composer’s desire for creation still persists, and with the chaos, he found inspiration.

…and unluckily for him, he had a slump.

nothing in the current area could inspire him for music. it frustrated him. even as he played away on the abandoned piano he found — nothing quite stuck to him right. it all felt too empty.

so tonight, frederick decided on leaving. just for one night, though. he’ll return by the next morning, of course — it’d be too dangerous to stay any longer. and where’s the harm in it, anyway? him and his team have been hopping from abandoned building to another.. be it to study more about the fungi or just to rest up.

he took a pen and paper, writing a note to leave behind — a short one, but at the very least it told them he’ll be fine… he’s sure qi will be scolding him afterwards, but.. it’d be well worth it.

as he signed it, he left it on the dirty table they’ve been using. taking his gas-mask to leave. the world is barren. everything was abandoned, there were those mushrooms everywhere. everything within frederick’s field of vision was nothing but a wasteland.

after a good, long walk he stumbled upon an abandoned music venue. it was big — it was grand. he’s sure he could find some inspiration and maybe even a new instrument.

little did the composer know, the venue was a big source of mycelium fungi.

he opened the heavy doors, looking around. a big stage in the middle, and seats all around for the audience to sit. it brought him back to his past for a bit — when he was shown on a stage — being praised for his music. ‘it was like a ray of divine light,’ they’d say.

that stage still had a piano on it. he walked between the empty seats, making his way onto the stage. the piano… it somehow still looked brand new, weirdly enough. it even sounded just like so, properly tuned and cared for.

it didn’t feel real. he thought he was dreaming. frederick sat himself down, performing as if there was an audience. he hasn’t gotten the chance to use such high-quality equipment ever since the infection spread.. he’ll definitely stay for a little longer.

even if it wasn’t real.

the composer peeked around backstage, and somehow, it looked clean. nothing like what he’d usually see. an infected corpse, bloodied walls, some mycelium growing.. none of that. it looked polished in here.. he’ll tell his group he found a new place for them when he gets back.

even if it was filthy in a sane man’s eyes.

it was getting late — he could tell that much. he’s sure his group wouldn’t mind if he came back a little later. he has in the past, anyway.. it didn’t make much problems. he sat down, back against a wall, just looking at all the equipment backstage before drifting to a dreamless sleep.

only to be woken up by a horrible sight. everything looked different from last night. no longer was it that clean place he saw the night before. it was horrid. worse than anything he’s ever seen — flesh and mushrooms coating the walls. the floor felt moist, almost as if it were actual meat. and the smell — god, the smell. poor frederick threw his head to the side and threw up. his throat burns. what even happened here..? was last night all fake?

it got worse when he saw those flesh-like veins start to crawl all over body. with wide eyes, he scratched and hit himself. it didn’t hurt, oddly enough. his body felt weirdly numb — though, frederick was a little too disoriented to notice.

“are you okay, frederick?”

he heard a voice. a woman’s voice — you..? how..?

it can’t be real — but it looked and sounded just like reality. just like you. could it be a hallucination..? no, no.. he’s seen how his groupmates reacted to the mycelium’s hallucinogenic spores — none of them ever mentioned anything like this.. he would know. it’s happened to him a few times before, too.

he placed his hand over his gas-mask, only for it to have a fleshy feel. he could see teeth and blood on his palm — panicking, the composer grabbed onto the mask of his, not realizing it was, in fact — his gas-mask. in his mind, it looked like a piece of gore had latched onto his face. he pulled onto it hopelessly. he wanted it off.

“ah, you’ll hurt yourself..” you cup his face, slowly taking the mask off. in frederick eyes, it really was a young woman helping him discard the living flesh off his face — letting him take a breath. though, it was nothing like that in reality.

he had just taken off his mask in a high risk area.

it felt like fresh air — though he was overwhelmed by the smell of rot after a few seconds, gagging. he can’t help but still see ‘you’ as a fake. but he can’t help but still give in.

“what are you doing here by yourself, anyway..?” it asks.

his jaw locked up, he can’t say anything. frederick looks down, he looks ashamed, almost. why? he didn’t know, either. he just knew whatever it was, it was you — and he’ll believe entirely.

“does it hurt, frederick?” it asks, caressing frederick’s cheek. ‘you’ could see a few red scratch marks on them.. ah.. the way it said those words — alongside those gentle actions. it really was you here in his mind. he can’t help but nod, pressing his knees against his chest and rambling nonsense.

“everything — all of it hurts.” he mumbled. ‘you’ wanted to comfort the composer. and he wanted that comfort, too — he longed for you after you disappeared. who knew he’d find you here of all places.

“do you want me to make you feel good, frederick?”

of course he did. he wanted you again. he missed you. he craved for you. your warmth. you. the composer didn’t care if this ‘you’ wasn’t real.

he watched you climb on top of him, pressing featherlight kisses onto him. as if fungi wasn’t already seeping into his tongue. frederick wrapped his arms around ‘you’ — when in reality they were enveloping himself — scratching red, bloody lines into his skin.

more openings for the spores to use him as a host. for ‘you’ to use him as a dear host.

frederick’s nose started bleeding, some of it had gotten into his ear — though, he paid no mind to it.. it felt like little kisses and bites on his earlobe — just like how you did it back then.

he felt your hands around his neck, how your lips felt against them, too. ah, he was in pure bliss. even if the room looked and smelled like rot — at least ‘you’ — no, it — was here to make him forget about everything.

maybe the rest of his group wouldn’t mind if he just left..

maybe he should stay just a little longer

idv masterlist ♥︎

[barcalover86]

Hey idk if you want to, feel free to ignore this request- but can you maybe do a part 2 to the showering after surgery? I rlly loved the fic🫶🏻🫶🏻

Showering after surgery p.2

First part

You tried to forget about your conversation with Gavi from yesterday night.

It's true that you were nervous to see Gavi naked for the first time, but he was Pablo Gavi. Everyone knows that he is beautiful.

He's been an athlete for so long, of course that his body was breath-taking.

But when he suggested that you two shower together, you weren't even nervous anymore. You were just scared.

A lot of what ifs were coming into your mind.

The truth is that you won't be the first girl he saw naked, and the other girls all had model type of body. What if he considers you ugly?

What if he finds you that ugly that he breaks up with you?

You imagined a lot of similar scenes until Gavi finally woke up.

You couldn't sleep all night, and he could see that something had bothered you.

"You okay?"

He seemed truly concerned about your health.

That's it. An idea came into your mind.

"Just a bit sick. I kinda have a headache." you lied.

"I'm sure a bath will help you. Let me get it ready for you-"

Oh shit.

"No, no, it's okay-"

"We had to shower together this morning anyway."

He got up from the bed and walked himself to the bathroom to prepare you the bath.

You've got all anxious by now and tried to find any reason for you not to shower.

"You just showered yesterday night and it wasn't easy for your knee. You'll be in pain, Gavi"

"Anything for my girl."

"Gavi, be for real now."

"What?"

He then suddenly realised. Or he thought that was the reason.

His face immediately got sad, and he stopped.

Now you didn't understand what was going on anymore.

He walked himself back to his room and opened the TV.

"So we won't shower anymore?" you asked surprised and also really confused by his actions.

"Well, you don't seem to want me. That's for sure."

"What!? No, Gavi-"

"No, please. I don't want to argue with you, ok?" he said in a sweet tone.

"Me neither, but it's not what you think."

For some seconds neither of you said anything.

"Ok, get up. We're going to have a bath together." you said while trying to help Pablo getting out of the bed.

"I'm too tired now."

"Gavi!" you shouted. "Please.."

When you were both in the bathroom, you were the first one to get your chlotes off.

You wanted to fasten things up so that he won't get to see you naked that long. You were really embarrassed and shy.

He stopped his movements and then looked at you.

"Y/n, y/n." he then holds you. "Tell me what's bothering you."

He looks into your eyes with so much love and adoration that eventually made you blush.

He smiled seeing your red cheeks and then kissed your lips shortly.

"You know I love you, so tell me."

You try to find the courage to look into his eyes, but you fail, so he helped you while moving your chin up.

"It's just.. you are Pablo Gavi and-"

"Well that's good to know." he starts laughing.

"Please, don't laugh. " he immediately stopped, knowing that this was something serious .

"You are Pablo Gavi and I'm just a normal girl-"

"Which I love with all my heart.." he continued.

"That's so sweet of you, but please don't stop me, otherwise I won't tell you."

He nodded, clearly understanding.

"You are Pablo Gavi, and I'm just a normal girl, and you've been with so many other beautiful women and I'm really really shy and scared that you won't like my body that much and that you will judge me."

He wanted so bad to interrupt you, but he knew that you had to take it all out of your heart.

So you continued.

"And I don't wanna sound dramatic or something, but even yesterday when I saw you all in front of me, I just couldn't realise that you chose me out of all those gorgeous girls. Because you are so, so beautiful. "

He started to tear up and hugged you tight.

"Bebé.."

"Do you think I'm beautiful?" you asked him.

He then took off all your chlotes and smiled.

"You are more than beautiful."

From your face, he knew that you didn't believe him so when he undressed himself too, you got into the hot water together.

He was holding you in front of him.

"I've been with many girls, that's true. But no one felt like you. You aren't just beautiful, you are sweet and kind and a really nice company. I chose you because I love you. Your body fits perfectly with mine." he kissed your left cheek. "You are the one that is now with me at my worst. Not them. You are the one who takes care of me. Not them."

You kissed his lips lovely, before helping him shower again, because the boy was in a lot of pain because of his knee.

After you were done with him, he helped you wash your hair, massaging it.

Everything felt so good.

"Do you still have that headache?"

He laughed, knowing that you lied.

You showed him your tongue and smiled at him.

"I love you" you said, hugging him tight from behind. "And I'll make your recovery easier. I promise."

"I know you will."

[junhanism]

YOUR TOUCH

Pairing. Lee Heeseung X reader

Genre. Fluff - situationship - best friends to lovers

Warnings. Mention of alcohol but no one’s rlly drinking

WC. 1.6k (1661)

Note : HEAVILY inspired by this fic (go read it i swear you won’t regret it). Also i haven’t posted since december omg 😭😭 this has been rotting in my notes for sooo long and i finally decided to finish it. Enjoy x

With his face buried in the crook of your neck and your hands tangled in his hair, you couldn’t help but let your mind travel back to the previous events that took place a few hours ago.

It wasn’t unusual for Heeseung to hold you close to him in the late hours of the day nor was it odd for him to bury his face in your neck the way he currently was but what was odd was him holding you like this in front of other people.

After your six long years of friendship, Heeseung and you both came to an agreement that would benefit the both of you.

You clearly were touch starved and so was he.

So naturally Heeseung, being the good friend he was, came up with the idea of you holding one another.

It did sound kind of weird at first but after giving it a second thought you found it to be a good idea.

I mean, two friends hugging each other, where’s the hurt in that ?

You decided to keep this side of your friendship behind closed doors in order to not raise any suspicions or judgment from your other friends.

Heeseung would cling onto you while you were cooking or lay on your lap when having a movie night together.

You would run your fingers through his hair as his would run along your arms when you both cuddled. It felt nice to have someone to hold close to you despite not being in a relationship.

Nothing has changed between you two, your dynamic was still the same it has been for the past 6 years of knowing each other. The only change being ; you would cuddle daily.

You would sleep together, tightly holding one another, without overstepping any boundaries.

You made it clear that this agreement was only up until one of you found a partner that would feed your needs but this has been going on for the past 9 months now. Not that you complained at all, but during those nine months you might or might not have developed some stronger feelings for the man...

“Stronger” as in not just friendly, platonic love.

You tried to burry those feelings as you knew well that he could never return them and that it would be foolish of you to think he ever would.

It didn’t seem like he put much thought about this situation-ship you two were in.

But it felt as if the more you tried to push these feelings away, the stronger they got.

You decided to just enjoy it while it lasted because you knew this would one day come to an end as you were sure he didn’t see you as more than a best friend.

Or you were almost sure.

Because when you pushed open the door of the fancy house in which was thrown a party you were not invited to, your eyes instinctively scanned through the sea of people, looking for the one and only Lee Heeseung.

It wasn’t too hard to find him given the fact that he was taller than most people here.

You locked eyes with him and his face lit up upon seeing that you actually came to the party you said you wouldn’t attend (you gave in to his endless whining about how “it would be so boring without you there”).

You made your way through the crowd as best as you could, trying to reach your small group of friends.

Heeseung extended a hand in your direction which you strongly grasped, helping you out of the crowd and smoothly pulling you to his side.

“You came” he smiled as he wrapped an arm around your shoulders swiftly.

You didn’t think much about the action, the way his arm nonchalantly hung around you just made it seem like two close friends standing next to each other. And everybody here knew the two of you have been best friends for a while now.

The evening went on smoothly, as smooth as Heeseung’s unoccupied hand was when it made it’s way to your waist, lightly caressing your exposed skin.

As smooth as his arm, that was originally slung over your shoulders, caged your front and brought your body closer to his.

You shot him a confused glare only to find him already looking down at you with a small smile on his lips. He simply shrugged at your confused face and tugged you in closer to his chest, resting his head on top of yours and leaving you even more baffled at his rather out-of-character behaviour.

A few of your friends sent you questioning looks to which you replied back with obvious confusion written in your eyes, signalling them that you also had no idea of what was currently going on.

And you weren’t lying— you really didn’t know why he was acting this way in front of so many people. This was something he would do when he came over and you were both in the comfort of your small apartment with no one watching.

When did he get this bold ?

Why was he getting so close to you when everyone could see ?

Both of his arms were now wrapped around your shoulders as he correctly rearranged his head over yours, fully back hugging you.

He started to rock your bodies from left to right slowly in a comforting way.

You looked like a literal couple and it obviously didn’t go unnoticed by your friends.

“Hold on are you guys a thing ?” One of your friends, Jake, cautiously asked, eyebrow raised in curiosity.

Your eyes widened for a millisecond and you gulped in slight panic.

Trying your best to seem unfazed by the sudden but not unexpected question, you were about to answer when you felt Heeseung stop his motion and beat you to it.

“No we’re not”

Oh wow, why did this kinda hurt ?

A part of you somehow hoped he would have had a different answer, that he would’ve pretended you guys were a thing.

But what’s worse between denying and pretending ?

Jake was quick to catch on to the disappointment that flashed through your eyes and chuckled to himself before looking back to Heeseung.

“Then you wouldn’t mind of if i asked her out, right ?”

Your eyes almost popped out of their sockets as you looked at Jake in shock but the boy shot you a reassuring glance telling you to not worry. He was actually helping you out.

This man is truly an angel, isn’t he ?

Heeseung’s hold grew tighter around your shoulders, holding you as if you could run away at any moment.

“In your dreams Sim Jaeyun”

And when you thought your heart couldn’t beat any faster…

The obvious possessiveness lacing his voice caused your friends to shout all kind of things, all along the lines of “you two being in a secret relationship and hiding it from them this whole time” and “Heeseung being jealous”

And this only fed your delusions and your growing feelings for the boy currently holding you.

Was he really jealous ? It could be the alcohol though…

Your eyes traveled to the red cup discarded on the counter and you could clearly see that the liquid inside it didn’t down one bit ever since you arrived.

So this couldn’t be it..

Was he putting on a show for the others ?

I mean, why would he do this ?

So many questions ran through your mind and in a blink of an eye Heeseung and you found yourselves on your way (to your) home and on your sofa with his head ,as said before, buried in the crook of your neck and your hands tangled in his hair.

The questions did not stop though. Your mind kept replaying the way his arms tightened around you when Jake asked if he could take you out.

He could easily lie about not liking you but you were smart enough to not miss his body language. But then again you maybe overthought this whole thing and he could just be messing with you.

You decided that the only way to find answers to your questions was to ask him directly.

So without thinking twice you blurted out his name, breaking the comforting silence that surrounded you.

The boy simply hummed in your neck, indicating that he was listening to whatever you had to say.

“Do you like me ?”

Heeseung lifted his head from the comfortable spot between your neck and your shoulder, looking up at you with a somewhat deadpan expression on his face.

“What do you think ?”

Huh.

You furrowed your eyebrows at his answer. That was definitely not what you expected.

Heeseung lightly chuckled at your confused expression before answering. “You’re either really stupid or you’re doing it on purpose”

You stayed silent at that -rather, you’ve been silenced- which earned another laugh from the boy.

“Why do you think i proposed this whole arrangement nine months ago, hm ?”

When you didn’t answer he leaned his face closer and closer to yours until your lips were only a few inches apart, brushing against each other.

“Maybe i should show you then” he whispered before connecting your lips together in a tender kiss that you, obviously, returned.

The kiss didn’t last long but enough to speak both of your feelings without a word.

“Does it answer your question ?” He asked, bumping his nose into yours cutely.

You too decided to answer by connecting your lips once again in a longer and more passionate kiss this time, spilling the unspoken longing and hidden feelings into it.

You both pulled apart after some time due to the lack of oxygen.

Heeseung pecked your lips one last time, then your chin before locking eyes with you, smiling tenderly.

“I was not just touch starved, i was starved of your touch”

[l0sercat]

Shredder x reader

So I was watching TMNT(1987) and Shredder is such a pathetic mess. I fucking love him so much. So I noticed the way Baxter keeps calling Shredder master and when April is tied to the chair by Shredder and it gave me the idea for this fic! I'm not rlly proud of this work, it's not my best, but I hope you all enjoy it!

CW: MDNI NSFW, you call Shredder Master, you are consensually strapped to a chair and used for his pleasure, pronouns are gender neutral but reader has a vag, blowjobs, piv, Shredder flusters easily(canon), hair pulling/grabbing, porn with feelings?

Honestly you don't even remember how you were in this position. You would have never seen it coming before this. Master Shredder asking you to help him with his personal 'problem'. Well honestly it wasnt even asking more like trying to demand you to do it. But you just giggled in his face and said "Whatever you want master~" But you didn't expect him to tie you down to a chair.

You didn't expect him to be so kinky, not like you minded. You tested the ropes by tugging on them, yeah you weren't going anywhere. He left the room briefly and you hear the door open, you turn your head to see him. He walks over to you and you eye him up and down, gods how he always looks so damn hot in his uniform. You bite your lip as he towers over your tied up form. He puts his hands on his hips and stares down at you, "Are you going to use me or what?,Master~" You gaze up at him and take in how he stills for a second. Trying to process your words and tone "Silence stop talking like that!" you smirk knowing damn well that you've got him flustered.

He pulls downs his pants and boxers letting his cock spring free, it's half hard and he wraps his hand around the base. He gives it a few lazy strokes making it stiff, its nice and thick with a decent length. You cant help but stare, how its flushed pink at the tip and it twitches in Shredders hand. "Stop staring at it! Look at me instead!" "Yes master~" Shredder lets out a choked sound and curses in Japanese, without warning his hand grips your mouth. His thumb pushes past your lips and forces your mouth open. He then presses the tip of his cock on your lips and quickly forces himself all the way in. The tip of his cock hits the back of your throat and you gag slightly at the intrusion.

Your eyes gaze into his and his eyes waver, he shuts them briefly and lets out a wanton moan. It's been so long since he has been with anyone he forgot how good it felt. He moves his hand that gripped your jaw and placed it on the back of your head. He starts a slow pace, moving your head up and down on his length.

Your tongue occasionally caressing the underside of cock, rubbing a prominent vein. Shredder lets out a whiny airy moan, he's almost embarrassed with how close he is to cumming. Almost. He knows you won't say anything, you'd never complain about anything he gives you. He knows you respect and care about him, you'll take anything he gives you.

You look up into his eyes, you'll never look away from those gorgeous soft brown eyes. Master Shredder looks down into your eyes, god he feels himself getting closer to his release. He's memorized by how pretty you look with your lips wrapped around his cock. How good you take him without a complaint, doing anything he asks of you. He groans out your name and pushes your head all the way down on him. His cock twitches inside your mouth, he's soon cumming down your throat. His hot seed coating the back of your throat, you wish you could savor the taste.

You whimper around his cock making one last spurt of cum shoot out. He slowly and reluctantly pulls out of your mouth, you pant lightly. His cock glistens with your saliva and his cum. You throw your head back and rest it on the chair, you smirk "C'mon Master, is that all you can do?" His fists clench and soon he is grabbing your thigh and ripping your pants off.

You gasp not expecting him to be this rough, but you can't say this doesn't get you soaked. He takes his cock in his hand and lines himself up with your entrance. You whine out for him "Your so needy" "Only for you Master~" He chokes on his spit and grits his teeth, and he quickly rams himself inside you to shut you up.

His hand grips your hip while the other grips your thigh. He moves to rest his head on your shoulder, but he realizes he still has his very sharp mask/hat on. He grunts in frustration and curses words you don't understand. He thrusts his cock deeper into you, his tip kissing your cervix. You gasp and moan out to him, your arms twitching in the restraints. "Please please more~" you whimper out.

He lets out a small whine and he screws his eyes close. "Yes take me, all of me, nghくそ~" he thrusts in and out of you at a fast and needy pace. He can barely think or focus, just needing you taking him and moaning out for him.

You watch him come undone, he is reduce to a whining hot mess. Begging to cum, chasing his high with your body. You clench around his cock, what you would do to take off his mask and see his face. All red and kiss him, swallowing his whimpers and moans. You bet he is handsome as hell, your legs start to shake. "Master please take off your mask, let me see your face" He doesn't even hesitate to rip it off letting it hit the floor.

You admire how stunning he looks, his face red and mouth slightly open letting all his desperate sounds free. He stares at you with brown glossy eyes, they're practically begging you kiss him. You crash your lips onto his and he doesn't protest. He continues his pace, his cock hitting that sweet spot inside you. You tongue tangles with his, and he whines into your mouth. Your eyes gazing into each other's, tears spill from his eyes and soon he is whimpering.

"Cum inside me master" "くそ くそくそくそ" his nails dig into your skin and his head is buried in your shoulder. He whimpers and with one last thrust, cums inside you. His hot sticky seed fills your womb and he is whining out your name. You toss your head back and moan legs wrap around his waist, making sure he can't pull out. You tighten around him as you cum, fists clenching.

He tries to catch his breath and you let out a small laugh. "You think you have enough energy for round two Master?" He grumbles into your skin but you feel him twitch and stiffen inside you. You bite your lip, you can't wait to make a mess outta him.

[moonstruckme]

Oh last one I swear. But nobody seems to write any Peter fics where the reader is an artist/art student and I just always saw the concept as rlly cute. Like science student and art student do you see where I’m going with this 😋 anyways. Just brainrot. Idk if this counts as a request lmao

-🍁/🍂 (iforgot what emoji I use)

Hi again, haha! I didn't set out to answer both your asks in one day, but I already had this one ready to go, so. I know you didn't necessarily request it, but I decided to write a little blurb anyway, hope you like it! (And it's the first emoji, but I'll know it's you either way :))

Peter Parker x artist!reader ♡ 598 words

Peter used to get an odd sort of pride from thinking he was always the last one on campus, messing around in the lab until the early hours of the morning. But then he’d met you, and you’d totally dethroned him. 

There’s bright light coming from inside one of the art studios when Peter passes by, and he detours, heading for it. He’s a mutant that can run on an average four hours of sleep and his eyes are aching, so he can’t imagine how exhausted you must be. But if he didn’t interfere, he wonders if you’d go home at all. 

When he enters the studio, he has to close his eyes against the sparks jumping off your project. 

“Sweetheart?”

The light behind his eyelids fades, and he opens them to see you lifting your welder’s helmet, setting your torch down on the table beside you. 

“Peter, hey.” You blink as though coming out of a fog. “Are you already done for the night?”

He smiles at you, moving closer to admire your sculpture. It doesn’t look quite halfway done, but to Peter’s crude eye, it seems like it’s coming along beautifully. You’d shown him your sketch before you’d started, it’s going to be massive and elaborate by the time you’re done. But you won’t be finishing tonight. 

“It’s nearly four, baby. Time to pack up.” 

Your eyes widen. “Wait, seriously?” He nods, and you purse your lips, displeased with the passage of time. “Okay, you go ahead. I’m going to get to a good stopping point, and I’ll meet you at home.” 

It sounds reasonable, but Peter knows you better. 

“You can get back to it tomorrow,” he says, slipping your helmet off for you and placing it carefully beside your torch. “Don’t you think it’ll come out even better if you’re well-rested while you work? I don’t want my girl getting in a blowtorch accident.”

“I’m not that tired,” you argue, but your blinks are slow, almost dazed, and Peter suspects that if he put a pillow under your head right now, you’d pass out in a hot second. “And I’m too good to burn myself.” 

Peter grins. “That’s true,” he agrees, moving behind you to untie your apron. You let him slip it over your head. “It’s looking really great, by the way.” He undoes in the tight bun in the back of your head, knowing your scalp has to be sore. “Did you make any changes from your original idea?”

“A couple.” You lean into Peter’s fingers as he massages the back of your head lightly, shaking your hair out at the roots. “Sometimes it just goes where it wants to go, you know?”

“I don’t,” he says, taking your hand to lead you out of the room, “but I believe you.” 

You chuckle. It turns into a yawn halfway through. “Right, sorry. What’d you do today, bug boy?”

Peter hangs your apron on the hook by the door, closing it behind you. You’re all but leaning into him, further proof that you’re more drowsy than you’re letting on. “You know, bug things.” 

“Come on.” You bump your hip into his lightly, and your voice is by no means loud, but it creates a soft echo in the dark, empty building. “You got to see my project, tell me about yours.” 

Peter shrugs. “I was just messing around with environmental nanotoxicology.” 

Your laugh rings out, surprised and joyous, in the silent hallway. “I have no idea what that means,” you say, pulling him closer to you by his hand. “Tell me about it?”

[d4rkdi0rrr]

First off I just want to say I LOVED you’re other Leo x reader writing 😭

Could you write a sort of enemies (they just argue a lot lol) to friends to lovers with Leo on the Argo. Like maybe he’s blasting country music like 24/7 while he works and the reader hates it (sorry to any country music lovers lmao). Or like the reader is one room down from him and she just hears the power tools going all night. And maybe the reader ticks him off too because she like keeps breaking her weapons, or starts playing loud music to retaliate idk. But then one day they are paired together for night patrol or cleaning duty. Leo’s like “dude why do you hate me so much??” and the readers like “who said I hate you??

(Sorry if this is long I’m horrible at explaining things lol 😭)

he hates me, he hates me not

(im glad you liked the leo x reader fic and thank u sm for this request! it was a little rushed so i apologise in advance but it was rlly fun to write <3)

leo valdez x fem!reader

cw: arguing, enemies to lovers, swearing, reader cabin not specified, not proof read

_______

Leo Valdez was infuriating to say the least.

You had agreed to join the quest, thinking that you and Leo could become good friends. What was there to dislike? He could be funny (at times), cared about his friends and had a nice face (something you would never admit out loud). But boy were you wrong. He held some sort of personal vendetta against you, ticking you off on purpose, making your life a literal living hell. You had no idea why he hated you so much.

"Maybe he likes you," Piper giggled, fanning her freshly painted nails. You two, along with Hazel and Annabeth were in Piper's room, having a girl's night.

"Me and Percy were like that before we got together too, y'know," Annabeth agreed, grabbing a cookie from the box that was sat beside your position on the bed.

"Oh please," you scoffed. "You guys know how much he pisses me off. It's too bad he has such a pretty face - oh shit." Realising what you'd said out loud, you immediately covered your face with your hands. "Please forget what I just said."

"Aww, someone's got a crush!" Squealed Hazel, throwing a pillow at you, "we are never letting you live this down."

You rolled your eyes at her. Just as you were about to grab the last cookie, the door flew open, along with the sweaty grime-covered bane of your existence.

"Pipes, have you seen Buford? He ran off with my tool belt. Are those cookies?" He reached an arm out towards the cookie box faster than the speed lightning, and before you could stop him, he'd taken the last cookie. Darn it. He looked around the room before his gaze fell upon you, to which he wrinkled up his face. "I wasn't aware that we let aliens in on this ship."

"Fuck off, Valdez," you grumbled. You weren't in the mood to argue with him right now. He'd taken the last damn cookie and now your evening was ruined. "Says the abominable fuck face. Buford isn't here. Go away before I punch your face in."

"Alright, alright, good night to y'all." Leo winked before saying, "except for you, Y/N, of course." You threw a pillow at the closing door.

_______

It was currently 1 am on the Argo, and Leo had been tinkering away in his room beside you. To be honest, the occasional sounds of the metal clinking and clattering was quite relaxing. It was the loud country music blasting, making you want to crawl under your bed and stuff cotton in your ears that was truly insufferable.

You weren't about to let go of the absolutely appetizing thought of sleep escape you, so naturally, you got up and knocked loudly on Leo's door.

"Come in!" you heard over the loud music. You entered his room and looked around, disgusted. The ground was absolutely trashed and looked like the equivalent of a war zone. "Oh, it's you."

"Can you please turn this horrible music down?" you tried to yell over the obnoxious music. "I'm trying to sleep."

"No can do!" he yelled back. "It helps me concentrate. Get out of my room!"

You huffed (which Leo thought was absolutely adorable) and slammed the door closed.

Back in your own cabin, you accepted the fact that you were going to wake up looking like a sleep deprived rat. However, maybe you were hallucinating or delusional but you swear you heard the volume lower before drifting off to sleep.

_______

"Not you again," you groaned as you saw the first locks of Leo's curly hair from the top of the ladder. "I thought I was on duty with Frank."

"We're stuck with each other I guess," Leo shrugged cheerfully, plopping down next to you. The night breeze was cooling on your face and you felt like the main character in a movie as the wind gently kissed your hair. For once, you actually didn't mind his presence. Then: "Dude, why do you hate me so much?"

"Hmm?" you hummed, unsure of where he was going with this. "What do you mean? I don't hate you."

"We can't stand each other!" Leo protested. "I'm always insulting you, and you're always insulting me back. This is probably the most civil conversation we've ever had!"

You were starting to feel defensive. Wasn't he the one that'd always started tormenting you? You'd only wanted to get back at him for everything he'd done to you. "You start all of it though! I wanted to be friends with you but you just wouldn't let me! I tried, Leo, I did but you were just so infuriating with your jabs and pretty face and pretty everything and- "

"Wait, you think I'm pretty?" Leo looked starstruck by your words. He was gazing at you with the softest look on his face. "Can I tell you something?" You nodded. "I acted like I hated you because you were too beautiful, definitely way out of my league. I'm so sorry."

You grew flustered at the sudden proximity between the two of you.

"Can I kiss you?" He breathed softly.

"Okay."

He leaned forwards and placed a hand around the back of your head, the other finding yours and intertwining your fingers together. His lips were slightly chapped against yours but you felt like you were in heaven.

Breaking apart with a small giggle, you mustered up your courage and asked, "Can we do that again?"

[morgan-va]

Not to sound rude or antyhing...but that storry u wrote, w Cyn, really sounds like ai. Like Chat Gpt wrote it. I may be wrong, but my dad works in this field and when i showed it to him he said it looks similar.

Again, i MAY BE WRONG and if i am, i apologise, but if u really wrote it, than well done, its rlly good 👍

I’m not sure how to respond because in my mind if it sounds like AI then it’s not really good? In that case it’s something I need to fix.

I’m still not familiar with writing fiction as all my previous work was research papers, so I’m always worried about coming across too formal, but I’m not really sure how to fix that? I just write the way I know. I can work being less verbose, if that’s what you mean?

I did in fact write it entirely on my own, so I’m sorry it comes across that way, I’ll attempt to improve how natural I sound in the future. Maybe I should reduce my lexicon? I genuinely have no idea. I’ll reread the fic later and see if I can improve it.