#starts punching the ground really hard with my fist

[tikosblogg]

Come Undone

Summary: Best Friend Noah🥰

Warning: Fist fight, cussing, unprotected piv (plz don’t do that), mention of drug use.

A/N: Yall I have had writers block so bad…I’m so sorry if this is garbage. I really tired 😭💜

I stood by the bonfire, my heart pounding in time with the crackling flames. The glow illuminated the faces of my friends—Noah, Nicholas, Folio, and Jolly—each one lost in the bliss of the moment. I couldn’t help but steal glances at Noah.

He was tall, lean, adorned with tattoos that coiled like vines up his neck and across his arms. In the dim light, he seemed to radiate strength. Noah. My best friend, my secret crush, oblivious to the feelings that swirled within me. I ignored them, pushed them down for so long…but it’s useless.

Folio and Jolly were perched on the tailgate of Folio's truck, while Noah and Nicholas loomed nearby, their laughter blending with the music drifting from speakers hidden in the crowd. With every chuckle, my heart fluttered. I wanted to tell Noah how I felt, to lay bare the secrets of my heart. Yet, every time I opened my mouth to speak, the words shriveled into silence. What if I ruined our friendship? What if he didn’t feel the same?

As I shook off my doubts, that’s when she arrived. Jordan. The name sent icy tendrils down my spine, conjuring memories of high school torment. There she was—strutting towards us like she owned the night, her shimmering hair catching the glow of the fire. She was the embodiment of the girl who made my life a living hell, and tonight she had chosen to swoop into my world once more.

"Hey, Noah!" she smiled, leaning against the side of Folio's truck with a flirtatious smile, as she playfully tugged at the hem of his hoodie, that instantly soured my stomach. "What’s a guy like you doing with a bunch of misfits?"

Laughter erupted in the group, but all I could focus on was the heat creeping up my neck. I could pretend I didn’t feel the flames of jealousy licking at my insides; I could act like I wasn’t feeling small and insignificant next to the Amazonian figure of Jordan. My fingers clenched and unclenched at my sides, desperate for release.

Noah chuckled awkwardly, side-eyeing me for a moment. "Just enjoying a bonfire. Nice to see you, Jordan." He nodded, taking a step back from her.

She leaned closer, her voice dripping with malice. "You could have a lot more fun with me" Then she turned her gaze to me, a wicked smile blooming on her lips. "What’s Roxy doing hanging out with all the boys? Shouldn't she be off somewhere shooting up with her mommy?”

Everyone was silent. Eyes widened in shock. The reaction was instantaneous, the alcohol coursing through my veins igniting a fire of courage I didn’t know I had. The scars from high school throbbed, and before I even registered what I was doing, I was stepping forward. “Say it again,” I demanded, my voice steady in its resolve. A quiet “oh shit” coming from somewhere behind me.

Jordan laughed, a sound that was anything but genuine. “What? You didn’t hear me?” She gave a fake pout, which only infuriated me further. "I said, 'Shouldn't you be off shooting up with your mother? Or maybe picking her up from another crackhouse?”

In less than a heartbeat, I charged, adrenaline coiling tightly in my chest. I lunged at her, and the shock in the crowd reverberated around me like an electric shock. I swept her legs from under her, and in a heartbeat, she was on the ground with a hard thud. “Fuck you!” I came down on her, my fists raining with a furious energy I didn’t know I possessed.

Somewhere in the back of my mind, I heard gasps and murmurs ripple through the crowd, but they were drowned out by the pounding of my heart. Each punch was cathartic, breaking through years of pent-up anger, old wounds that had never fully healed.

But just as quickly as it had started, it ended. Noah’s arms were around me, pulling me away with a force that startled me back to reality. “Roxy! Stop!” His grip was firm, and his chest was solid against my back. I felt my fists clench and unclench, ready for more, but I made no more attempts. Breathing heavily, I turned to face him.

His large hands cupped my heated cheeks. “Are you okay?” His voice was low, concerned, but there was something else simmering beneath the surface—as if the situation sparked a fierce intensity within him.

Breathless, I nodded, though I could feel the remnants of adrenaline coursing through my veins. As the crowd began to murmur and disperse, Noah led me away from the fire, his arm around my waist, gently guiding me toward the makeshift parking lot in the gigantic field we were in. His grip was warm, sending sparks of something undeniable running through me.

Once we reached nicholas’s suv, he opened the door and sat me down in the passenger seat, standing between my thighs like an ever-looming wall of safety. “Where the hell did that come from?” he asked, his brows knitted together in concern, mixing with a hint of admiration that almost made my heart skip.

“I don’t know, Noah. I just…I can’t stand her. She used to do that shit to me in high school. She brought up my mom an—”

“Hey,” he interrupted softly, his expression shifting. “You shouldn’t let her get to you, she’s a fucking basic bitch that peaked in high school.”

I looked up at him, feeling the warmth of the evening wrap around us. “But she…I just wanted her to know I’m not the same girl she used to pick on anymore.” My breath hitched, the truth of it spilling out, sparking all sorts of feelings I hadn’t yet embraced.

“That much is clear, and I’m proud of you. I won’t lie, That was pretty bad ass.” he said, a slight smile breaking through. “And if I were her, I’d think twice before messing with you again.”

Noah’s words wrapped around me like an embrace, and for a moment, I felt invincible. “She wants you, and it makes me sick. She can’t take you away from me Noah..” I whispered, looking down as the weight of my emotions pressed on my chest.

He stepped even closer, the warmth of his body surrounded me, while his eyes searched mine. “You won’t lose me. You’re my best friend, Roxy. Always.”

“I’m sorry..” I sighed heavily dropping my head in embarrassment. He shook his head, his hand reaching out to stroke my cheek. "Don't apologize.” His touch sent a shiver down my spine, a sensation I had often felt around him but never wanted to acknowledge. I turned my face towards his hand, pressing a soft kiss on his palm.

"Thank you for always being there for me," I murmured, my eyes finally meeting with his.

In that moment, something shifted between us. The air crackled with unspoken feelings. He leaned in, his lips brushing mine softly, sending a jolt of electricity through your body. The kiss was soft and sweet, ending way too soon for my liking.

"I've wanted to do that for so long" he smiled, his smooth voice making me crazy. "I've always felt this way, but I didn't want to ruin our friendship." He eyed me almost nervously. Like he was waiting for my rejection.

I lifted my hand, lightly running it up his abdomen feeling every muscle beneath his shirt. I reached his neck, finally cupping his soft cheek in my hand. “Ive always wanted you Noah.” I whisper lightly, a small smile tracing my lips.

He smiled, a mix of relief and anticipation lighting up his handsome face. “You have me.” He whispered, running his big hands up my thighs.

Without waiting for a response, he leaned in again, this time not holding back. His lips were firm and demanding, yet tender, exploring every inch of my mouth as if memorizing the taste of me. I moaned softly, opening my mouth wider, inviting him in. His tongue slid against mine, a sensual battle for dominance that left mine breathless.

My hands roamed over his body, desperate to feel every inch of him. I tugged at his shirt, and he quickly obliged, shrugging it off, revealing his tatted up chest and abs. I couldn't resist running my hands over his skin, feeling the heat radiating from his body.

"Wait, not out here" Noah panted, breaking the kiss. "Scoot back"

I needed no further encouragement. I scrambled farther into the back seat, my heart pounding with anticipation. He followed, his eyes dark with lust, slamming the door closed behind him. He wasted no time, capturing my lips again as he pulled me onto his lap, my legs straddling his hips.

My fingers fumbled with his belt, eager to release the growing bulge in his jeans. He groaned as I freed his straining cock, stroking it gently, relishing the feel of his hardness in my hand.

"Fuck, baby," he breathed, his head falling back. "You have no idea how bad I’ve wanted this"

I smiled, trailing light kisses over his jaw. "Show me, then.”

With that, he grabbed the hem of my jeans. He slid them down and off, before finally guiding his cock to my already soaking pussy, slowly lowering me onto him, taking him inch by inch. I gasped as he filled me, stretching me deliciously. His hands gripped my hips, guiding my movements as I began to ride him, my wetness clinging to his shaft.

"You feel so fucking good," he grunted, his eyes rolling back in pleasure. "Your pussy so fucking tight. So perfect." He groaned, pulling my shirt off throwing somewhere in the car.

His words only served to heighten my arousal. I leaned forward, my breasts brushing against his chest as I quickened my pace. His hands roamed over my body, squeezing my breasts. A breathy moan escaped as he pinched my nipple, taking the other into his warm mouth sucking softly sending waves of pleasure through me.

"Fuck I'm so close," I whimpered, my voice breathless. "I'm gonna cum, Noah please."

He bucked his hips, driving himself deeper into me, at a fast pace. His lips released my nipple with a soft pop, as he groaned against my hot skin "Cum for me, baby. Let me feel it."

As if on cue, my orgasm crashed over me, ripples of pleasure radiating from my core. I cried out, my body trembling as he continued fucking me through it. Soon after he followed suit, his cock throbbing inside me as he came, filling me up.

Breathless and satisfied, I collapsed onto his chest, our hearts pounding in unison. He kissed the top of my head, his arms wrapped tightly around me. “Are you okay?” He whispered as his long fingers ran through my hair.

I lifted my head, cupping his cheeks with shaky hands. I kissed his lips softly, a huge smile falling over my lips. “I’m perfect.” He smiled, pecking my lips one last time before reaching for our clothes. We got dressed, and he turned toward me with his perfect smile. “You ready to go back out there?”

I sat quietly for a minute before giving him an answer. “Actually…can we go back home?” He smiled, nodding his head before leaving to round up the rest of the guys. My heart happy that the man I wanted, wanted me back.

[winchester-24]

Imagine someone threatening you in front of Dean

You were on a supply run with Dean. You two aren’t getting anything too crazy, just food, medical supplies, and, of course, the usual alcohol. The store you were in had a little area dedicated to seasonal decorations. You noticed it as you and Dean were passing it to get to the medical supplies that were two aisles over. It was August which meant fall and Halloween items were starting to come out for the season. The boys never decorate or do anything fun during the holiday season, but at least this year, you wanted to try to do something small in the bunker.

“Oh, babe can I look at the fall decorations really quick?” You look at him giving him the best pout face you can manage. He looks at you, rolls his eyes, and then kisses your forehead.

“Okay, fine, but nothing too big, I’ll grab the wraps and bandages we need.” You smile from ear to ear as he goes down the medical aisle and you start to browse the decorations. You look at all the cute ceramic decorations, leave theme, pumpkin theme, and some of the Halloween decorations they already have out.

While looking at a tabletop display, a man stands close to you from behind you. You try to move to the side, but he follows your step. When you were about to turn around to confront him, you felt the tip of a knife poking your back. He starts to speak low.

“You are going to follow me nice and easy out now.” You stay calm and collected.

“My boyfriend is two aisles over. It will turn into a really bad day for you if you don’t leave me alone.”

“Nice try; move your ass unless you want me to cut on that pretty face of yours after I force you out of here.”

“What the hell did you just say to my girlfriend?” You hear Dean say. Both you and the man turn around to look at Dean. He looks dangerous. The hard eyes he gets when hunting are the same eyes he gives this man. The man with a knife to you was not tiny, but he wasn’t a vast guy either- he was just average, but Dean could easily take him, especially with what he does for a living, and must fight almost every day. The guy is speechless, obviously not believing when you said you had a boyfriend here.

“Uh, nothing, we were just talking.” The guy stumbles out.

“What I heard is that you were threatening to cut up my girl’s pretty face. Is that what I heard?” The guy, intimidated by Dean, doesn’t reply to him; he stares wide, not knowing what to do in this situation.

“Sweetheart, come here,” Dean says, eyes not leaving the guy that threatened you. You walk to him, but the guy is not attempting to stop you. Dean holds out the bandages to you.

“Go take these and check out. We will go somewhere else for the food. Here are the keys; wait for me there.” You don’t say anything; just nod your head. You start walking away when you hear Dean's punch. You turn your head back but keep walking.

You see the guy on the ground, nose bleeding. Dean has two fists full of his shirt holding him up, and you see Dean dangerously close to the man, no doubt telling him threats that Dean knows he will act on. You turn back to finish heading to the checkout, letting out a little smile.

You tried to tell him.

[spinningwebsandtales]

Imagine Going On A Date With Hangman

Jake 'Hangman' Seresin X FemReader

Rating: T

Warnings: Teasing, mentions of an abusive relationship in the past, tooth rotting fluff

Word Count: 1.9k

Part 1: here

Taglist: @chaoticcassidy, @the-marshals-wife, @hotch-meeeeeuppppp

(A/N:) I have been lagging behind on my writing here lately as my artwork has been taking the majority of my time. I'm in the process of opening an Etsy store because all my creations are starting to pile up and I live in an area that people aren't interested in fandom things. So I'm taking matters in my own hands. But I am going to keep writing! Being able to write these fun imagines is something I love doing and won't give up for anything! So I'm going to try to write more and to my bestie who wanted a second part of the last Hangman imagine here is that date part you wanted! I have two more requests in store so keep an eye out! Until next time happy reading! ~Countess

The setting sun and crashing waves were your only companions as you sat on a bench outside The Hard Deck. You couldn't remember what really possessed you to agree to Hangman's request, and you were really questioning what had gotten into you as he was naturally late. You tapped your foot, glancing at your phone to see what time it was. You decided to give him a moment longer, before you gave up and went home. You had just placed your phone back in your purse for the tenth time when a pickup pulled into The Hard Deck's small parking lot. You rolled your eyes, knowing it was just another bar hopper when the driver side door swung open. Boots thudded against the ground as you lost yourself in the search for your keys in the bottomless purse you lugged around.

"Hello," the familiar voice cut through your grumbling.

"You're late," you hissed

"Fashionably," Hangman retorted.

Giving him a once over," No just late."

"If I wasn't so confident in myself that would have hurt my feelings."

"Confident and inflated ego are two totally different things," you crossed your arms.

"Sure," Hangman grinned. "Sorry I'm late it won't happen again."

"So confident that there will be a next time?"

"Absolutely."

You hummed, zipping back up your bag. You came all this way and waited this long. No sense in going home now when he just got here.

"Okay flyboy," you held out your hand. "Woo me."

Without hesitation Hangman took your offered hand, kissing your knuckles before leading you towards the passenger side of his truck and opening the door. Once you were seated in the passenger side, Hangman shut the truck door. Naturally he pumped his fist and raced around the front to the driver side. You couldn't help but laugh, though you did roll your eyes. Sliding the keys into the ignition and starting the truck, letting the diesel engine rumble for a few seconds you waited until Hangman started to shift into reverse.

"So what do you have planned for me this evening?"

He shrugged looking out the back window as he steered the big truck out of the parking lot. "I thought we might go bar hopping."

"Seriously?!" Any thought of you enjoying tonight and that Hangman would actually be pleasant for a change went out the window. Maybe you were having a moment of naivety that night you said yes. Now all those what if's and worrisome thoughts started to avalanche in your mind, until Hangman started to laugh.

"I'm joking," he coughed. "Don't worry I have a fun night planned.

"Now I'm worried what your definition of fun is," you retorted cheeks flushing red in anger.

"Lighten up sweetheart I won't do anything you don't want."

Your teeth began to grind and you were really starting to question your sanity. "Has anyone ever told you that they'd like to throat punch you?"

"I'm sure but they never voiced it,"

"Well let me tell you I really want to throat punch you."

"Good to know we're off to a good start tonight! First something to eat."

Despite being a storm of rage in the passenger seat from Hangman's teasing it didn't take long before he was able to ease you into a simmer. You watched the scenery go by while Hangman told funny stories from work. Though you drove these streets for years, you never really got to enjoy the sights as you were always too focused on the road to notice little details. Hangman could tell that you weren't really paying attention but it didn't stop him from talking. You had your arm resting on the center console, finger gently tapping to the music on the radio. He smirked to himself when he got caught at another red light.

"Are you listening," he asked.

You just replied with, "Hmmmm?"

"I'll take that as a no," he scoffed before glancing once more at your digits tapping even harder against the hard plastic. The stop light still glaring red in the night that was settling in, he eased his hand over yours, stopping your fingers movements before he interlaced your fingers with his. You jumped, quickly glancing over. Instead of saying a word at your shocked face he placed gentle kisses to the back of your hand. The light turned green, but he didn't release your hand as he drove on. You paid a little more attention to the conversation though your heart was pounding loudly as you kept glancing from the vehicles passing by to your hand swallowed by Hangman's much larger and calloused hand. You breathed a sigh of relief when the restaurant came into view and Hangman parked the truck.

"Stay," he demanded before hurriedly getting out and racing to your door.

You rolled your eyes but just waited. He opened the door with a flourish before offering you a hand to help you out. With you "safely" on the ground, Hangman slammed the door shut and locked the truck up. For the third time in the evening he took your hand, walking hand in hand to the entrance.

"You know you don't have to go so far for me," you said.

"Of course I do. You agreed to go out with me and I want you to be treated the way you deserve," he retorted still gripping your hand while he opened the restaurant door for you as well.

"Oh please don't make me gag with the goody two shoes act you cocky jerk," you laughed.

The hostess waved a server over as soon as you both walked in, cutting off Hangman's reply by leading you both to a table. You noticed that it wasn't an overly stuffy restaurant. You could tell by the smells coming from the kitchen that they had good food but it was still a comfortable enough atmosphere that you didn't have to worry about snobby rich people sneering at your comfy clothing choice. Once seated and your drink orders placed you raised the menu to start browsing. Usually you could decide what you wanted pretty quickly but tonight you were shaken by the way Hangman was acting so it was going to take you a minute to concentrate. The menu was suddenly slapped down onto the table. Hangman kept his hand pressed against the laminated paper making sure you couldn't hide behind it. You felt a little guilty for what you said before you both were interrupted just a moment ago.

"It's not an act," he glared. "I'm being genuine right now, just for you. I've wanted this for awhile and I don't want to do anything to mess it up. I'm sorry I was late. I was so nervous that I didn't know what I wanted to wear or where I should take you until last minute. I've been flustered since the moment you agreed outside The Hard Deck."

At the beginning you would have chalked it up to Hangman teasing you once again, trying to get under your skin. But the sincerity in his eyes made you realize that this wasn't act. He wasn't just saying these pretty words to get you to let your guard down so he could strike. He was being real and you wanted to melt into the floor as you now felt like an absolute jerk.

"I'm sorry," you mumbled fighting back the sudden tears stinging your eyes. "I shouldn't have been such a jerk to you."

"It's okay I really gave you a reason to be so defensive but I really want to try."

"It's not you," you sighed body shaking. You were about to continue on when the waitress came back and set the drinks down on the table. You hadn't even gotten to glance at the menu but without missing a beat Hangman ordered sending the waitress back off with the orders.

"Trust me I come here a lot," he grinned. "And you don't have to tell me. The Navy guys pretty much know some guy took advantage of you. We don't know any hard details but just know, we have your back no matter what."

Once again the pilot left you speechless, "Thank you."

He nodded leaning back in the chair he was sitting in. Without a second thought Hangman moved the topic to something else and in a matter of seconds he had you laughing and joyously conversing with him until the food made it to the table. And true to his world it was absolutely delicious and now you wanted to come back as soon as possible.

With full stomachs Hangman lead you back to the truck. The night had settled in fully before he once again held open your door. He didn't shut it immediately this time.

"Can I take you to a movie?"

"Absolutely!"

After the delicious dinner and a fun movie you realized that you didn't want this date to end. You couldn't remember the last time that you had enjoyed yourself so much. And if you could tell that Hangman wasn't ready for you to get out and leave in your car just yet.

"Think we can go take a walk on the beach for just a little while," you asked.

He perked up, eyes shining brightly he nodded.

You held your shoes in one hand and Hangman's hand in the other as the cooling sand shifted between your toes. The crashing waves on the beach sent little salty sprays in the air as little crabs scuttled by.

"I can't remember the last time I had so much fun," you breathed in deeply.

"Getting to fly is pretty fun," Hangman drug the toe of his boot in the sand. "But this is a different type of fun. I wouldn't want to share with anyone but you."

You faked a gag, "Ugh so sappy!"

He laughed," You have no one but yourself to blame. You shouldn't be so pretty."

"Oh puh-lease Hangman," you laughed. "You don't have to just say that."

He cupped your cheeks, hushing you immediately. Hangman stared down at you seriousness and a little bit of anger simmering in his gaze. You swallowed loudly, unsure of what to do in such a situation.

"Stop putting yourself down," you all but snarled. "You're amazing and I wish you could see it."

You never had someone say things like that with such conviction and it had you a little emotional. Hangman pressed his forehead against yours. Taking in your presence as your soft cheeks warmed his palms.

"I wish you could see yourself the way I see you," he whispered. Placing a tender kiss on your forehead, you shivered against the contact of his warm lips against your skin. Hangman leaned backwards taking in your face before pulling you in closer. His breath brushing against your lips. He leaned in closer, claiming your mouth with his. The beach a perfect backdrop as the waves made their crashing applause against the sandy beach that suddenly became your favorite spot. Seconds later Hangman parted from you before holding you tightly.

"Thank you," you melted in his hold.

"Can we do this again soon," he whispered afraid of the answer you'd give him.

"The dating or kissing," you teased.

"Both. Lots of both."

"I'm ready whenever you are flyboy."

Hangman squeezed tighter," So tomorrow?"

You nodded, "Definitely tomorrow."

[f1byjessie]

HE LIKES MY AMERICAN SMILE ━━ OP81.

love is a wild ride, and logan sargeant's sister is about to find this out the hard way.

( oscar piastri x sargeant!reader )

━━ part eight.

When you were ten, a boy at recess pulled on your ponytail. He yanked you around, laughed when you’d shouted for him to stop, and then only let you go when you’d begun to sob. Dalton had done your hair that morning and the little clip-in bow he’d added was askew, and no matter how hard you tried you just couldn’t fix it. It was this, more than the actual pain of having your hair pulled, that made you inconsolable.

Logan found you crying beneath the jungle gym, surrounded by a gaggle of other girls all trying to help. He crouched down next to you, all skinny-armed and knobby-kneed, wiped your tears with the sleeve of his shirt, and asked you who’d done it.

Logan punched the boy in the face after you’d told him. He was sent to the principal’s office for his trouble, but that boy never messed with you again and it was the first time you realized that your brother would do anything for you.

He was grounded, too, and had to sit through a huge long spiel from your parents about using words instead of fists, but Dalton had given Logan a pat on the back and assured him that he’d done the right thing.

He hadn’t punched anyone for you since then, but in Switzerland Logan had been your lifeline. Whereas he was quickly befriending the other boys he was racing with, you struggled. There weren’t many girls who understood why you were always busy on the weekends, or why you couldn’t come over for sleepovers, or why you always had to turn down birthday party invitations— and subsequently, they didn’t want you around if all you did was bail anyway.

Dalton was at that point in his life when he thought he was too old to hang around his little sister, so Logan had been your best friend. He’d let you paint his nails in the hotel rooms before races, and then he’d help paint yours so you could match. He only let you practice makeup on him once, because the mascara wand poked his eye and he’d been too scared to try it after, but it was fun while it lasted. He took all your pictures for you, went with you when you wanted to try a new cafe or see a new movie, and even tried to follow along when you gossiped about boys.

You think back to that time and wish he were here with you now. Maybe he would punch Oscar, or maybe he’d just sit with you and let you paint his nails like you used to. What you really just want is your brother.

You want him to use his sleeve to wipe your tears again, and you want him to somehow make it all better like he always seems to know how to do.

You want to go home.

You feel so stupid. How could you believe he was ever interested in you? Of course he was just trying to forget it all happened, and anything else you interpreted as flirting or potential interest was probably just Oscar trying to be polite because that’s the type of person he is. He’d cut off his own hand if it meant not causing a scene. He was probably just trying to find a way to tell you that he doesn’t ever want to see you again and he can’t think of you as a friend anymore because he can somehow tell that the kiss meant more to you than it ever did to him, and he thinks it’s weird that you’re so attached to him, and he can’t stand being around you because just the idea of having to pretend to like you is appalling—

A sob bursts free and you slap a hand over your mouth to muffle the rest that follow.

Years of a friendship thrown away because of a stupid mistake you both made on a single night. You should’ve never listened to Sophia and Lando. You should’ve just pretended it never happened like Oscar was so keen on doing, and when he started distancing himself you should’ve taken it in stride and let it happen even though the idea of it felt like tearing your heart out. Maybe if you’d just let him go he would’ve at least come back eventually, after the awkwardness and discomfort had passed. Now he probably won’t ever want to look at you again, much less joke around and hang out the way you used to.

And God, you’ve probably ruined it for Logan now too! How could Oscar possibly look at Logan the same way either if it means having to awkwardly dance around your very existence? You’ve ruined your brother’s best friendship for him and now when you face him and explain how it’s all your fault, he’ll blame you and never want to speak with you again and then you’ll be well and truly alone.

You’re at the edge of the lawn and crumple to your knees, sinking to the ground and ignoring the fact that the grass is cold and slightly damp. It’s seeping into the fabric of your dress, but you don’t care. Something as superficial as your ruined makeup and stained clothes seems obsolete in comparison to everything else you’re feeling.

Through the blurriness of your tears, you can still see the warm glow of the lights shining outward through the windows, just beyond your reach. But the cold darkness of the Monagasque night swathes you, and your thoughts mirror the dreariness.

Oscar hates you, which mean Oscar hates Logan, which means Logan hates you, and by proxy Alex and Lily hate you, and because everyone else on the grid hates you, that means Lando hates you too. If they hate you, then their fans hate you, which will ruin your career and nobody will ever want to work with you again. You’ll lose everything you worked for and it’s all your fault—

You clamp your eyes shut and bite down on your lip to keep another devastatingly heartwrenching sob at bay.

This life was never meant to be yours— the racing life. You should’ve remained focused on your career instead of worried about some boy. You should’ve been happy with what you had, because now you’ve lost it all and you can’t fathom how you can possible get any of it back.

The door opens and the current bane of your very existence steps out, silhouetted by the lights behind him. His phone is held up to his ear, but between the shadows cast across his face and the tears in your eyes you can’t make out much else, just that one minute he’s stood on the stoep and the next he’s spotted you and is making a mad dash across the lawn.

“Oh my God, Y/N,” he says, falling to his knees beside you and immediately reaching out to place a steadying hand on your shoulder. His hand is warm against the chill of your skin, and you know you need to pull away, you know you need to distance yourself from him so he doesn’t hate you even more, but you can’t bring yourself to do so.

“You’re fucking freezing,” he mutters, low and concerned, before he’s slipping off his jacket and draping it over your shoulders, attempting to rub some warmth back into your arms through the fabric.

It makes you sob even harder.

His hands freeze, hovering over you. “What’s wrong? Are you okay?”

You scrunch up your face and shake your head. “No, Oscar, nothing is okay,” you somehow manage to get out between hiccups and stuttering breaths.

He’s going to hate you, he’s going to hate you, he’s going to hate you—

He pulls you against his chest and then wraps an arm around you, hugging you close. His hand cups the back of your head and presses you into the crook of his neck. You can feel his pulse point where he’s got you held, and his heart is racing. “What is it? What’s happened?”

You should push him away. He’s only doing this to comfort you because you’re a person in need and Oscar is the type of guy who would help anyone even if he can’t stand them. He’s just nice like that. But the feeling of him against you, so comforting and warm, is intoxicating and you’re not as nice as him. You want to be selfish, and you want this all to yourself from now until forever, but you know that the second this moment ends you’ll never have it again so you’re choosing to savor it.

“Y/N,” he says again, running his fingers through your hair. “You have to tell me what’s going on. I can’t help you if I don’t know what’s wrong.”

“I’ve messed it all up,” you say, voice muffled against his neck. “It’s all ruined and it’s all my fault.” You manage to swallow back the sobs, but another wave of tears spills over and dampens his skin.

He makes a noise, and pulls you even closer still. “What could you have ruined?”

“Everything!” You exclaim while reaching up and grabbing at his shirt. You let your fingers twist into the fabric like it’s the only thing keeping you tethered to this moment, and all Oscar does in response is continue to hold you. He scratches at your scalp and runs his fingers through your hair, and shushes you gently when your breath stutters again.

“It’s New Year's Eve,” you start after another moment, “and my twenty-third birthday, and instead of being happy and celebrating it with my brother like I should be doing—” the thought of Logan makes you sob once again, “—I’m in Monaco trying to pretend like I’m not in love with someone who hasn’t spared me a glance the entire time I’ve been here!”

It sounds stupid when you say it like that. It is stupid, you think, but now on top of everything else you’re convinced Oscar probably thinks you’re even stupider now than he already did. At the very least you had plausible deniability before, but now you’ve confessed that you’re in love with him of all things. Love! You hadn’t even known that yourself before you’d blurted it all out in a word vomit of feelings.

He hates you, he hates you, he hates you—

Oscar tenses and his hand stills, but he doesn’t pull away. “Lando’s been sparing you plenty of glances,” he mutters, sounding dejected for reasons you can’t possibly begin to theorize on.

You take a deep breath and swallow what little is left of your pride. You’ve already ruined things beyond repair so nothing else you do can possibly make things worse. You shake your head against him and cling to his shirt even more. “It’s not Lando I’m in love with.”

“What..?”

“Lando and I aren’t together, Oscar,” you whisper against his skin.

“Well, I know that,” he clears his throat. “But I thought… he flirts with you all the time. And you flirt back.”

You groan, thankful that at least your face and the horribly pink flush that’s risen to your cheeks is hidden where you’re tucked away. “He had this whole elaborate plan where he’s been trying to make you jealous so you’ll ‘man up’ and do something about it,” you explain, feeling more and more embarrassed as each word comes out.

Oscar hums. “So, he’s not pursuing you?”

“No!” You’re honestly afraid of what you must look like right now, certain that your makeup has been smeared with your tears across your face, but you pull away from Oscar just far enough to meet his eyes, managing to give him a look that asks if he’s being genuine right now. “I mean, Christ, Oscar, he made us share a bed. He was just trying to help me because I didn’t know how else to get your attention without risking our friendship entirely, and that’s the plan he came up with and I just went along with it because what else was I supposed to do?”

He looks surprised. His eyes are wide and his cheeks are pink from the chill of the night. It reminds you that his jacket is still draped across your shoulders, and you go to shrug it off and give it back to him, but his hands snap to yours and keep them pinned there.

When you meet his gaze again, he looks softer. Gentle. Not at all like someone who’s supposed to hate you. For a moment you think it’s the closest you’ve gotten to before Bahrain ever happened, but then you realize this is the same way he looked in the car outside your hotel, right before he kissed you.

“You could’ve talked to me,” he whispers, lips quirking at the corner as if all of this is just a big joke and he’s getting ready to laugh at the punchline.

“Oh, yeah,” you roll your eyes, “let me bring up the one kiss we shared that you seemed real intent on pretending never happened!”

“I never brought it up because I thought I was taking advantage of you and I was ashamed!”

You stare at him, and then despite looking like a mess and freezing your ass off, you burst into laughter and collapse against his chest. He rolls with it, letting you settle against him easily and then wrapping his arms around you and pulling you even closer.

“We’re really bad at this, aren’t we…” you murmur against him.

“Making fools of ourselves? No. But communicating? Absolutely.”

You sit there on the lawn for a while longer, letting the chill seep into your bones, until the front door opens again and Lando comes stepping out. He looks baffled when he spots the two of you hugging on the grass, but then a shit-eating grin stretches across his face and he strides over looking proud of himself.

“Well, having fun are we?” He asks when he comes to a stop before you both.

You can’t see Oscar’s face from where you’re resting against him, but you can feel him shift and his chest rumbles against you when he answers, “Oh, yeah. It’s a real party out here.”

“Funny you should say that, ‘cause there’s actually a very real and very fun party happening inside right now and people are starting to ask where the two of you are, so—” Lando shrugs, “—rather not have to tell them you two were shagging out on the grass of all places.”

You snort and Oscar sighs. “I’m not sure where you got the idea that we’re shagging from. Obviously we still have our clothes on, Lando,” he retorts.

Lando claps his hands, smiling, “Okay, then, whatever you kids these days are calling it, my front yard is not the place for it, so get on now. Move it! Up you get!” He shoos at you both like you’re a couple of unruly dogs he’s trying to usher elsewhere.

Oscar lets go of you long enough to climb to his feet, and then he’s offering his hand to help you up as well.

You take it, and thank him with a sheepish smile before glancing down the check the damage that’s been dealt to your dress. Thankfully, there’s doesn’t seem to be much of a stain, but there is a wet patch that you know will be noticeable if you don’t change. On top of that, you’re still certain your makeup has probably been ruined, and you’re already embarrassed enough by having Oscar and now Lando see you like this. You’d be absolutely mortified if anyone else in that house managed to catch you looking so messy.

“You good?” Lando asks you specifically when he catches you staring down at the dampness of your dress.

“Yeah,” you answer when you look up and meet his eyes. “Should probably go get changed, though. And fix up my makeup.” You rub at your eyes shyly, trying to do what you can here and now as if that’ll make it any better.

“We’ll make an excuse for you,” Oscar says, reaching a hand out to brush against your shoulder before him and Lando turn and begin making their way back to the house.

You follow shortly after him, lingering in the night for a moment longer. You feel lighter, and the darkness feels more like a comforting blanket of serenity now than an oppressing shroud of loneliness. When you realize his jacket is still draped over your shoulders, you wrap it tighter around your arms to take advantage of the remaining warmth that clings to it, and then you hurry across the lawn into the house.

Stepping into the entryway, you can hear Lando’s voice in the livingroom just beyond. You scurry up the stairs, moving as quickly as you can so you can return to the party.

When you get to your room, you take a moment to think about what in the hell just happened as you change. The week alone has been such a whirlwind of highs and lows. You’d been devastated when Oscar had first arrived, then you’d had one of the best weeks of your life, and then you’d had the closest thing you’ve ever had to a meltdown out on Lando’s front yard because you were convinced you’d just ruined everything you’d ever worked for and thrown it all away because of a dumb choice. A few laughs and cuddling on the grass doesn’t seem like enough to just completely brush away all the miscommunication that happened between you and Oscar, but it seems like a good place to start for tonight and that’s all you can ask for.

There will be other days and other nights where you can sit down and talk about where it all went wrong and how to keep it from going that way again, but for now it’s New Year’s Eve, it’s your 23rd birthday, and there’s a party just downstairs filled with people that know how to celebrate like no other.

INSTAGRAM.

liked by logansargeant, oscarpiastri, and 54,134 others

yourusername my 2024 is going great so far ☕️👀

view all 2,453 comments

user OH MY GOD?? IS THIS A SOFT LAUNCH???

logansargeant at least you’re not hungover

↳ yourusername oh trust i am VERY hungover rn 😔 hence coffee in bed

↳ logansargeant omg twinsies 😀

↳ yourusername yes bc our shared hangovers is the only reason we’re twinsies

user wish i could’ve woken up like this this morning 😭😭

user manifesting this for 2024

landonorris keep it pg13 in there kiddos

↳ user ASKAHAOUFHALD WHAT???

↳ user WE NEED DELULU DETECTIVES IN HERE PRONTO

user oscar’s liked the post but he hasn’t commented, lowkey sus 🤔

↳ user y’all are actually crazy wtf?? can a man not just like a post anymore??

user she’s still in monaco right?? so it’s gotta be one of the mclaren boys

↳ user if she doesn’t reveal who it is by bahrain 24 then i’m gonna lose my mind

↳ user catch me hyperanalyzing every moment of y/n on the paddock to see who she’s with to try and solve the mystery

user seriously how cAN ONE PERSON LOOK SO STUNNING 😫😫😫

alex_albon happy new years y/n! me and lily loved getting to celebrate with you yesterday!

↳ yourusername happy new years to you as well! had the time of my life getting to see you both! we definitely need to do it again sometime 💙

━━ tags: @f1-is-lovely-33 @chasing-liberosis @405rry @aquangxl @bellezaycafe @peqch-pie @formulaal @chonkybonky @mess-is-my-aesthetic @flippingmyshit @peachiicherries @spacegirlstuff @myxticmoon @landosgirlxoxo @k-pevensie28 @moonypixel @lewisvinga @81vas @maih23

━━ a/n: hehehe here we are folks! that conflict resolution is finally here! also, i think this is actually the longest part i've written so far? but i wanted to get everything sorted in a single chapter instead of having another cliffhanger or dragging things on for too long. it's also 3AM as i'm finishing this up and getting it posted, so my apologies if there are any editing mistakes that i missed! i am very sleep deprived! anyways, i hope you all enjoy!

[defectiveporcelaindoll]

Chapter IV: The Prophecy

“Hand on the throttle. Thought I caught lightning in a bottle, oh– But it's gone again.”

series masterlist previous chapter

pairing: post-prison/ cm: evolution Spencer Reid x BAU AFAB!Reader (I like to think this is where Spencer is during the current seasons.) series synopsis: an unsub with a taste for couples and power imbalances leads Doctor Spencer Reid not only back into the classroom but down the hypothetical aisle with the BAU's newest Probie for an undercover assignment that may change his life. cw: age gap (Spencer is 42, reader is 24 in chapter 1), Use of y/n's (I'm sorry, I know I'm sick of it too.), fake marriage, romance romancing, kisses, and touches but no smut (yet…maybe); Reader is feisty and flirty; Spencer is anxious and has an aggressive outburst; female reader she/her pronouns, and mentions of typical CM violence. wc: 2.5k of conversation and world-building

The drive back to the university was nearly silent, with only the hum of the engine and the rhythmic tap of the rain breaking the tension that still hung in the air from Spencer’s outburst. When they finally arrived home, an unmarked car with government plates was waiting for them.

With a sigh, Y/N moved to open her door, only stopping when Spencer reached out, taking her hand in his. “Wait—” His voice was soft and timid, melting a part of her soul. Her gaze shifted from the waiting officer to Spencer. He cleared his throat, his grip on her hand tightening. “I’m really sorry that I snapped at you. We were having a great night, and I hate that I might’ve made you feel unsafe in my company…”

Y/N’s brows knit together as she shook her head, turning to better face Spencer. Her free hand cupped his cheek as she leaned in, her nose brushing gently against his before their lips connected. “Hey…I could never feel unsafe with you, okay? I understand it’s the job, it’s tough, and it can get to you…but we’ll figure it out. We’re in this together…till death do us part or whatever.” She teased, desperately trying to lighten Spencer’s somber mood.

He chuckled, nodding his head gently against hers. “Yeah…okay.” He kissed her quickly before letting her hand fall away, getting out of the car, and rushing to grab her door for her.

The pair looked a sight—clothes still dampened from their frolicking in the rain, wild curls, and kiss-bruised lips. They looked more like a pair of high schoolers than professionals.

“Looks like you two had a good night,” the agent called, slamming his car door. He looked annoyed, or maybe that was just his face, Y/N thought, observing the new file box securely under one of his arms. “The press finally caught wind of this one; it’ll be all over the 11 o’clock news if you two are too busy…socializing.”

The agent smirked, his eyes raking over Y/N’s body, catching the way her dress clung to her curves, leaving little to the imagination.

“I’m going to need you to apologize—” Spencer started, taking a protective step in front of Y/N. She had to admit, the role of husband looked good on him. Her hand gently gripped his bicep, trying desperately to ground him. “Spence—” Her warning tone begged him to stop.

“Come on, bro, be serious. I didn’t say anything that wasn’t true. I mean, good for you, honestly, bagging a newer model?” The agent threw Spencer a wink.

“Newer model—?” Spencer’s brows shot up in disbelief as Y/N snapped, her brows knitting together. Her feet carried her towards the agent, and her fist connected hard with his jaw before she even had time to register what she was doing. She snatched the box and stormed into the house.

“And I look unstable—

Gathered with a coven round a sorceress table.”

“Em, sorry, I punched him. If you get a call saying that one of your agents punched Agent Asshat or whatever his name was, I take full responsibility. Go ahead and write me up.”

Y/N all but yelled into the phone sitting in the middle of the table, a very tired Emily Prentiss on the other end.

There was a muffled yawn from the other end. “Did he deserve it?”

Y/N sighed, “Well—”

“Yes,” Spencer cut her off, returning from the kitchen with a makeshift bag of ice for her hand. “We may have looked less than professional, but that doesn’t excuse his blatant misogyny, nor the way he was practically eye-fucking Y/N on our front lawn.” He huffed, sinking onto the sofa.

“Sounds like he deserved it…” Much to Y/N’s surprise, Emily didn’t sound upset. If anything, their unit chief sounded amused.

“Should’ve seen it, Emily. She would’ve made Morgan proud. I think she might’ve broken his nose,” Spencer chuckled, glancing over at his literal blushing bride with a cheeky grin.

Prentiss laughed. “I don’t condone violence…but good on you, kid. I’ll let you know if I receive that call, but if he’s the jack-off you’ve made him out to be, I doubt he’ll admit to his superiors that a woman broke his nose. Regardless, I won't be writing you up for this.” There was a brief pause, the sound of shuffling papers and drawers closing on Emily’s end. The time difference between Seattle and the District meant it was past midnight.

“You should go home, get some rest, Em. We’ll look over the newest crime scene photos and see if anything stands out. If it does, we’ll let you know. The agent made the comment that the press had the story…so we’ll keep an eye on that as well…”

Emily, ever the workhorse, sighed. “Fine…I’m going to head out of the office now, but as always, call me if you need me or if there are any urgent developments.”

“Have a good night, Em…” Spencer sighed, his head lulling back against the cushion as the line went dead. “How’s your hand?” he muttered quietly as he started unpacking the newest box of evidence onto their coffee table.

“It hurts…” she shrugged, flexing her fingers under the ice pack, “but I hope his face hurts more.”

Spencer couldn’t help but laugh, a genuine smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he gazed at Y/N with pure admiration and pride. “Angel, I genuinely think you might’ve broken that idiot’s nose. I can almost—actually, no, statistically, I can guarantee his face will be hurting for a while, especially right now.”

“Pad around when I get home— I guess a lesser person would’ve lost hope.”

The night slipped by, the story was run, and the case stayed the same— unsolved. Nothing particularly groundbreaking was found at the crime scenes, and the MO and victimology were painfully consistent, which left little for Spencer or Y/N to analyze. It was driving Spencer crazy, how after nearly twenty years with the BAU, he found himself genuinely stumped.

In the coming days, everything suddenly became real. After their date, their kiss—it wasn’t just a cover story anymore. Spencer and Y/N no longer felt like characters in a tragic play. They were a couple, who kissed and held hands, who slept in the same bed and talked about their days.

Days turned to weeks, and before they knew it, August had slipped away like a bottle of wine. As the leaves began to change, the lines between reality and their cover began to blur. 

For the first time in a long time, Spencer was happy, and content in a life he had always imagined for himself—a wife, a home, a steady schedule. None of it was real, but if only for a moment, it was real to him. His classes ran smoothly, with students who weren’t just there because he had a pretty face—they cared, and it was groundbreaking. The university had even given him a TA to hopefully lighten his workload. She was sweet, not much older than Y/N, but working on a doctoral thesis in his field of expertise. All the pieces of this illusion had fallen perfectly into place.

"Still, I dream of her…"

Spencer woke with a start. He hadn’t had that particular nightmare in years, not since his brain had nearly bled out all those years ago, not since he saw Maeve that one last time. He couldn’t seem to catch his breath, his hands blindly searching for Y/N in the bed beside him… and then there she was, groggily furrowing her brows.

She wasn’t lying next to a psychopath in a pool of blood, cold and lifeless at his feet. She was in his bed, in his arms even, tangled in the sheets.

Memories and flashes of that night with Maeve, with Diane—the way she’d touched him, the way Maeve had looked. The cases were different, yes, but something felt very familiar to him. Reluctantly, he pulled himself out of bed, padding into the living room where the coffee table had been overrun by evidence from the newest murder. The body count was up to eight now, four couples, and the press was having a field day with this; they’d named the unsub The Albatross.

“Cautions issued, he stood shooting the messenger. They tried to warn him about her.”

The words danced across his mind, echoing in his ears as Spencer sat on the sofa, his eyes searching the crime scene photos desperately. The MO had shifted with the latest couple; the once precisely slit throats were no more, instead replaced by a single shot through the heart. The couple themselves were the same—an older man and a younger woman. However, with this couple, there had been an incident—a fatal shooting years back involving a stalker. Spencer shuddered at that information, his stomach twisting as he read the original case report.

“Shooting the messenger…” he scoffed, tossing the note back into the pile of evidence. He sat back, his head lolling tiredly against the back of the sofa as his mind worked overtime, assessing the words on the page as well as the previous notes left behind, trying to find any connection, any story or reason to the cryptic poem.

“What’re you doing up…?” Y/N’s sleepy voice caught him off guard. He turned to glance behind him at the half-asleep woman leaning against the hallway wall. “Rolled over and you weren’t there…” Y/N mumbled, trying to rub the sleep from her eyes.

“Couldn’t sleep…” he shrugged, trying to hide the fact that he’d been sleeping just fine—except for the haunting nightmare. He opened his arms for the younger woman, beckoning her to come and sit beside him on the couch. He needed to hold her, to know that she was real, but he wasn’t quite ready to get back in their bed just yet.

After a brief moment of contemplation, Y/N shuffled over, flopping down beside Spencer on the couch, her blurry eyes scanning the photos from the crime scene. She’d seen them earlier before they had inevitably decided to call it a night, but now, something she hadn’t noticed before caught her eye.

Without hesitation, she leaned forward, snatching up the evidence bag that held the latest note, her brow furrowing as she examined the reddish-brown splotches near the edge of the page. 

“Is that blood?” she asked, glancing back at Spencer as she handed it to him.

He stared blankly at the mess for a moment before reaching out for an evidence bag that held yet another cryptic poem—though this one was different—if only because he was fairly certain the unsub’s blood had dripped onto it, considering that when the lab had run it, there was no match to any victim. 

"Poisoned blood from the wound of the pricked hand."

“Oh—” Y/N shook her head, looking over the victim's hands…not a drop of blood.

“If it’s not from the victim, it’s sloppy…why not start over, why leave a trace behind?” she said softly, fighting a yawn as Spencer nodded slowly. 

“It’s almost like she's giving us a clue—”

“She?” Spencer asked, raising a brow. Dr. Spencer Reid was the king of picking out a female unsub, usually long before anyone else on their team. What had she seen that he’d missed? “How do you know it’s a woman? What stands out to you?” Spencer asked, leaning forward on the couch, observing the mess of case photos.

“Well, up until this last set…the husbands' throats are slit, and these notes are placed in their left palms. It’s brutal, but there’s an art to it.” She hummed, sinking back into the plush cushions of the sofa. “The wives, on the other hand, are laid out peacefully in bed with an albatross feather in their hands. It shows remorse—after the fact, the unsub is giving the women the respect that’s deserved…it's a different kind of death for the women."

“Okay, and what do you think the notes signify?” Spencer encouraged, slipping into teacher mode as his own mind raced a million miles a minute, putting together all of the points she’d made against the profile he’d been building in his mind.

“Well, they’ve always been in the left hand…ancient beliefs said the left hand was feminine, while the right was masculine. Other ancient stories point to your left hand being bad luck…which clearly…” she motioned to the gruesome photos before them with a sigh. “In some literary works, the left side symbolizes decay…death.”

Spencer nodded along. He’d already reached his conclusion, put the puzzle together, and built his profile. Now he was left to guide her, wait, and see if the younger agent would find her way to the same conclusion.

“Why slit their throats?” he asked softly, his eyes trained on the younger woman’s features, carefully analyzing every micro-expression he could find.

“Obviously, our unsub believes the husbands took something significant from their wives. The way our unsub is slitting their throats leads me to believe that she thinks it’s their voices or possibly their autonomy…I mean, we’re dealing with older men… I mean, it’s the history of man, right? To use women? Take something so simple but vital,” she said thoughtfully. “But it’s the albatross feather in the woman’s hand…such a heavy symbol, and you said before that the bird is associated with burden and guilt. It feels like the unsub is trying to release the wives from any guilt she believes they’re enduring…she’s just setting them free.”

Spencer nodded. “And this tells you what about our unsub?”

Y/N paused for a moment, thinking over the details before offering Spencer a small shrug and a heavy sigh, “Well, I would say that our unsub is a woman, and these men are surrogates…but she identifies with the wives and feels a need to avenge them.” She glanced up to meet Spencer’s eyes, desperate for the approval of the older agent, which he gave with a small nod, so she continued, “The careful way she arranges their bodies shows she has a sense of empathy… she sees herself in these women.”

“Exactly,” Spencer said with a warm smile. “Why do you think she targets older husbands?”

“She probably has a history with an older man—someone who dominated her or took away her voice. This is her way of reclaiming her power and avenging the other women she sees as victims.” Her voice trailed off, her eyes fluttering between Spencer’s eyes and his lips, as he leaned in to gently press a kiss to her forehead.

“Right…you are one hundred percent correct,” he sighed softly, his eyes raking over her delicate albeit exhausted frame with a frown. “And fortunately for us, this case will still be here when we wake up. Come on, let's get you back to bed…”

With a soft yawn, Y/N nodded, slowly rising to her feet, her hand outstretched for Spencer.

“Come on.”

"But I look to the sky and say

please…"

taglist : @olives-and-sunshine @iniyalovesall @suzysface @guiltyyassin @spencereidbasis @tatilolz @cherrycemeterry @hiireadstuff @r-3dlips @sweetpeterparker @catertotshitposts @purple-flower9 @wonderstruck4llthew4yhome @torturedpoetspsychward @skewedcherries @jackchampiongf13 @bouquetolegoflowers @pleasantwitchgarden @conrad4life13 @jdjwjdjjd @lilyn1909 @liquormoneysex @lynlin379 @imgublergirl

I hope i got everyone! if you’d like to be added to the taglist don’t hesitate to lemme know and as always i’d love to know the thoughts and feelings! So sorry this took so damn long

xo

[pandorxxx]

Tamed

Neteyam (21) x metkayina fem reader (20)

Warnings: SMUT THE HOUSE, cursing, hair pulling, pinning, p in v, oral (for like 2 seconds), intense orgasms, (DOM NETEYAM AND IM NOT KIDDING), edging.

🔞Minors, do not interact🔞

“Bro, where is my fucking girlfriend, I’ve been trying to find her all day!” Lo’ak whined, trailing behind Neteyam as they walked towards the beach.

“Baby bro! Were you not listening when she said her and y/n had training all morning?” Neteyam chuckled, looking back at Lo’ak briefly before turning back around.

“I miss her. I just can’t get enough!” Lo’ak joked, fake crying with a hand over his heart. Neteyam rolled his eyes, laughing loudly.

“You just saw her last night!” Neteyam chuckled, gesturing calmly as he kept a steady pace in-front of his brother.

“Bro, do you not realize we lucked up on the hottest girls here! And they just so happened to be sisters?” Lo’ak sighed with joy, shaking his head with a smile.

“You’re soooo ungrateful.” Lo’ak spoke sarcastically, catching up to Neteyam.

“Oh, trust me! I’m definitely gratef-” Neteyam started, but was quickly cut off by you screaming at Tsireya in the middle of the beach.

“Y/n, You’re such a BITCH!” Tsireya shouted at you, gesturing wildly.

“You stole MY TOP, and I’m the bitch?!” You screamed, pushing her back lightly.

“Should we stop them?” Lo’ak asked, watching intently as the scene unfolded before him. Neteyam was conflicted. This was you and your sister, surely you wouldn’t try to really hurt your sister, right? Besides he really didn’t wanna get involved.

“Just give it a minute.” Neteyam spoke, holding his arm infront of lo’ak as he watched closely, waiting for the moment when he had to split you two up.

“I don’t even see what the big deal is! You weren’t wearing it ANYWAY!” She replied in anger, pushing you back. You stumbled back alittle before balling your fists up, eyes full of rage.

“IT DOESNT MATTER! the point is you went in MY CLOSET AND TOOK IT! GIVE IT BACK NOW!” You roared, shaking in anger as you tried your best not to strangle her in-front of everyone.

“NO!” Tsireya projected, crossing her arms. That was the last straw for you as you watched your hand fly across her face, sending her to the ground. Everyone around gasped, watching the handprint form on Tsireya’s face.

“Bro! get your fucking girlfriend. She just slapped mines silly!” Lo’ak yelled, running over to Tsireya. Neteyam pursed his lips in anger, walking over to you two.

“I- ahg! Fucking told you to give -ngh! me my shit back!” You grunted, choking your sister out as you straddled her.

“I-it’s not that SERIOUS!” Tsireya struggled, trying to flip you off of her, but you were too far gone in your own anger.

“IT IS THAT SERIOUS! DONT TOUCH ME STUFF!” You shouted, shaking her neck with every syllable before sending another hand across her face, even harder than the last time.

“Alright get off now!” Lo’ak shouted from behind you, trying to pull you off by your waist, but you swiftly pushed him back, making him fall to the ground. Instantly you felt two strong hands snake under your armpits, pulling you off of your sister with such ease.

“ENOUGH!” Neteyam growled, holding you back by your waist as you desperately tried to get to your sister.

“I HATE YOU!” Tsireya cried, standing to her feet with the help of lo’ak, still lunging towards you.

“I HATE YOU MORE!” You hissed, punching neteyams arm to get out of his grasp. He grabbed your tail, wrapping it around his forearm before yanking it hard. You yelped in pain, immediately stopping all movement. Lo’ak watched, instantly following neteyams lead as he yanked tsireya’s tail. Lo’ak bent down to Tsireya’s ear whispering to her as Neteyam did the same to you.

“You’re in fucking public! Calm down!” Neteyam muttered through gritted teeth.

“But she stole my toooopppp!” you whined, stomping your foot in anger like a child. He gripped your tail tighter, making you hiss in frustration.

“What did I tell you about hissing at me? HUH?!” He roared in your ear, grabbing your arm tightly.

“Tsireya is the LEAST of your worries now!” He spat, spinning you around to throw you over his shoulder. He glanced back at lo’ak dragging tsireya away by her hair.

“HANDLE THAT!” Neteyam growled, pointing to lo’ak. Lo’ak looked back briefly, still dragging Tsireya away.

“AND TAME THAT WILD ANIMAL OF YOURS!” Lo’ak chuckled, yanking Tsireya harder before turning away.

The walk to your hut was filled with kicking and screaming as you desperately tried to get Neteyam to put you down. You finally made it, as he slammed the door behind him, placing you on the ground.

“What the fuck is your problem? Why are you fighting your sister like that?” He asked surprisingly calm, with his hands on his hips. You paced back and forth, face balled up in anger.

“I TOLD YOU! SHE STOLE MY FUCKING TOP! AND YOU JUST TOOK HER SIDE!” You screamed, still pacing back and forth as your arms crossed around your chest.

“I DID NOT! bottom line is, you cannot CHOKE your sister out!” He shouted, gesturing angrily as he watched you burn a whole in the ground.

“TIS NONE OF YOUR BUSINESS!” You shouted sternly, stopping all movement as you watched him cross his arms.

“Ohhh, but it is my business! YOU ARE MY BUSINESS!” He growled, hitting his chest with force.

“Fuck you, Neteyam. Get out.” You whispered with a clenched jaw, pointing at him before turning around. His eyes grew narrow, tilting his head as he huffed with each breath.

“What did you say to me?” He whispered, walking closer to you at an agonizingly slow pace. You turned around, meeting him halfway.

“I said GET OUT!” you yelled, hitting his chest hard, but of course he didn’t budge, not even an inch.

“No! The first part. Repeat that FIRST PART.” He commanded, turning his head slightly to hear you clearly.

“FUCK…Y-”you were cut off by neteyams strong hand wrapping around your neck with much force, almost knocking the wind out of you.

“Now, I’ve let you scream at me, HISS at me, hit me, but I draw the line at blatant disrespect, princess.” He whispered with low growls rumbling in his chest, as he was only inches away from your lips.

“No one’s bold enough to put you in your place, and it shows. But you’ve finally met your fucking match.” He hissed, poking you in the chest with the ball of his finger. You pouted up at him with your ocean eyes, trying to get out of the trouble you were in.

“That sad face of yours is not going to get you out of this.” He growled, picking you up to throw you on the cot. You instantly shuffled around, trying to crawl away from him, but you were too slow. Neteyam grabbed your arms, pinning them behind your back before shifting your hips up to meet his pelvis.

“Ngh! I just want my top baaaaack!” You whined, throwing your head down into the cot to muffle your whimpering. He ripped your loincloth off before ripping his, throwing both of them to the side.

“Shut up about that FUCKING TOP!” He growled, slamming into you with no remorse. You screamed at the force, trying to wiggle your arms out of his grasp.

“Stay still!” He shouted, thrusting into you hard and deep. Your scrunched your face up as the pleasure washed over you, becoming too much tohandle.

“Neteyammmm pleaseeee!” You whined, as your salty tears found there way to the corners of your mouth. You could feel him piercing through your soul, searching your guts for an apology.

“Say sorry, RIGHT NOW!” He grunted, holding your dainty hands behind your back, while his other hand pulled your hair.

“Mmm-ughh! No!” You spat, trying desperately not to fall into his trap. You weren’t one to be tamed, but Neteyam knew exactly how to get you under control.

“NO? Did you just tell me NO?” He growled, growing angrier as he thrusted into you faster. The pace he was going was unbearable, you felt like you were going to explode at any second.

“Sllll- oooww down!” You moaned as your vision blurred from your constant flow of tears. You could feel your orgasm approaching fast, and you knew it was going to be intense.

“You’ve got something you want to say first?” He shouted, pushing your head back down onto the cot, holding it there. Your ears were ringing from the impact, and your legs were going numb. Your whole body was tingling as you felt the knot in your stomach unraveling slowly.

“I-IM SORRYY NETEYAM!” You cried loudly, before deliriously gnawing at the material of the cot, trying desperately to find some relief elsewhere.

“SAY *thrust* IT *thrust* AGAIN! *thrust*” he shouted, thrusting into you so hard that your numb legs gave out under him.

“I-I CANT MOVE!” You whined, trembling in his grasp. He pulled your hips back towards him harshly, sliding into your sensitive cunt again.

“DONT EVER DISRESPECT ME AGAIN! DO YOU UNDERSTAND!” He roared, smacking your ass multiple times, leaving handprints all across you.

“YESSSS!” You screamed, tears burning your sensitive cheeks. Your legs gave out again, this time with your orgasm following. Your eyes crossed, as you convulsed under him, squirting everywhere. He watched you lose it with his bottom lip in between his teeth.

“Mhmm, just like that. NOW GET UP!” He growled, smacking your ass again. You tried to pull yourself up, but you fell back to the cot everytime, crying with every attempt as you were scared of Neteyam’s reaction.

“I c-can’t feel my legs!” You cried into the cot, lazily crawling away from him with the strength of your dainty arms. He flipped you over, picking you up by your thighs before walking you over to the wall. He glared at you hungrily, eyeing you up and down with lustful eyes.

“please don’t do this to me! I-I can’t take anymore!” You strained, shaking your head from side to side as tears streamed down your face again.

“You’re so pretty when you beg, you know that?” He asked, kissing your neck, leaving hickeys all over. He gently put you on your feet as he held you by your waist, turning you to face the wall. Your knees buckled, and he quickly grabbed you.

“Upside down, NOW!” He growled. Your eyes widened at the memories of that position, and the way you always seemed to black out afterwards.

“Neteyam, I-I can’t p-” you panicked before being cut off. “Your legs are numb, right? I’ll hold them for you. Now BEND…OVER!” He muttered through gritted teeth, backing you up enough for you to bend down. You bent down hesitantly, placing your hands flat on the ground. He instantly lifted your legs, bringing your crotch to his.

“I have a feeling this will never happen again, am I correct?” He asked sarcastically, sliding into you before thrusting slowly.

“YESSS! It won’t happen again! I’m sorry!” You whined, feeling the blood rushing to your head. He speed up his pace, using your ass as leverage to destroy you. He hit your sweet-spot with every thrust, sending a wave of overwhelming pleasure your way.

“N-Neteyam! m’ gonna f-fall!” You stuttered feeling your arms trembling under you. He slapped your ass, rolling his hips into you, making your mouth fly opened.

“You better hold on, because I’m not DONE YET!” He growled. You couldn’t even speak, or rebuttal. You were too busy trying to find the breath that Neteyam took away.

“Nothing to say? That’s a fucking first!” He chuckled, watching your sticky pelvises meet with every thrust. You finally caught your breath with a loud gasp, screaming out as you felt your orgasm coming again.

“mmmm FUCK!” You screamed in between thrusts, feeling slightly woozy from the position. You decided to milk it though, hoping he would ease up on you.

“N-Neteyam, I-I’m gonna pass out like l-last time.” you said breathlessly, trembling under him. He shook his head at your attempts to get out of your current situation.

“Pass out then, I’m not stopping!” He grinned, spitting down onto your cunt. He felt you clenching around him, signaling that you were about to cum, and he wasn’t too far behind you.

“You’re gonna m-make me cum again!” You whined as your eyes rolled back, twitching around his torso. As soon as he felt you clench around him again, he pulled out of you.

“Ohhh Neteyam! Pleaseee!” You begged, as you felt your orgasm slowly disappearing.

“Have you learned your lesson, y/n?” He asked, bending down to French kiss your cunt, sucking on your clit. Your arms were really trembling now, as you moaned loudly, nodding at his question. He pulled away, wiping his mouth before poking at your entrance with his tip to tease you.

“I want you to go and talk to your sister when we’re done. Make it right, ok?” He spoke softly, smacking your ass again.

“YES, YES! I’LL TALK TO HER!” You submitted, nodding your head again. He slid back into you, and you instantly felt your orgasm approaching again. He sped up his pace, chasing his as well. All that could be heard was loud moans, and skin clapping against each other.

“Cummingggg!” You screamed, balling your face up in pleasure as your squirted all over his lower abdomen and chest.

“Mhmmm, good girl! Im almost there!” He grunted, focusing only on the movement of your ass as it slapped against him. Your arms were becoming numb, as they shook violently under you.

“NETEYAMM, IM GONNA FALL!” You whined, as stars flooded your vision. He leaned back alittle, lifting some of the pressure off of your hands as he threw his head back.

“FUUUUCK!” He growled, pulling out of you to spew his thick cum on your ass. His eyes rolled back, jerking his cock to milk himself dry.

“m-my arms are numb! Lift me up pleaseee!” You pleaded. On command, he put your legs on the ground, lifting you up by your hair.

“Are you done being a fucking brat? Never again right?” He whispered in your ear, tugging on your long hair.

“Never again, I swear…”

Wheeewww chileeee! New position unlocked 🔓. Idk I got high and was like “let’s put this bitch UPSIDE DOWN!” lmfaooo. As always, I love y’all to death, and I’ll talk to y’all later!!!

Outtie❤️🖖🏾,

Pandorxx

Taglist: @number1gal @loak-bae @tiredmamaissy @neytirishottie @viajaeger @terrorthewolf @lethargicluv @reyzzsostellar @pullandhug @ameliestsblog @m0nst3rfk3r @agelsully @jakescumdump @wekiamo @st-cass @cleardonutangelwagon @tsireqas @satanlovedays @afro-hispwriter @thecutieyahia @urfavgirlmakenna @theycallmesia @dollswrld1 @iikatsukii

[astroboots]

PUNCH-OUT LOVE 2

Artwork by @guruan

LOST AND FOUND

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x female reader

Word count: 3.2k

Summary: You're sent on a wild goose chase for your missing handbag in the Lost and Found section and find something else instead: Miguel O'Hara.

Series Masterlist | Spiderverse Masterlist | Astroboot’s Masterlist

[Previous Chapter]

The stage is empty. 

The gargantuan defeated Knock Out King, all 340 pounds of him was loaded on a stretcher minutes ago. He was lying face up as if he was taking a restful nap on a hammock while he was carried out into the crowded noise of fascinated and hushed whispers. 

The ring lights are dimmed down now and most of the crowd have gotten to their feet and are pouring out of the stadium.

You're still glued to your seat, the hard plastic of the chair, bruising against your tailbone. But despite the discomfort you make no moves to get up. You're too busy staring up at the evacuated stage, reliving the scene that had unfolded before your very eyes minutes ago.

The swift motion of punches flying through the air, evaded with precise dodges. The refraction of ring light bouncing off brown glistening curls. The sheen of sweat pooling in the hollow of his throat as he closed in and landed the final blow that had his opponent reeling back and crashing to the ground.

"You alright?"

You snap out of your thoughts at the familiar voice, and find yourself blinking up at a pair of inquisitive eyes.

"You look completely zoned out, like you're on a different planet.” 

“Sorry, Jess,” you say, “I’m– I was distracted.” 

Standing on her feet, Jess gestures towards the exit in the back of the arena. "Should we start heading out? Gonna be a real pain in the ass grabbing a taxi in this crowd, we better hurry"

With a brief nod, you rise in your seat, feet wobbly and a bit out of balance as you file out of the arena in the crowd.

Maybe it's the heat in the arena, overcrowded as it had been mere minutes ago, but you feel like you're sleepwalking. Even as you're physically leaving the stadium, your mind is still left behind, sat in the front row seat, staring up at Miguel O'Hara.

The flash of knuckles as O'Hara's fist connected to his opponent's jaw. Watching the other man's bottom lip wobble as spit flew out of his mouth seconds before he landed in defeat.

Your veins still thrum with adrenaline. Your heart thumping in excitement. You can't contain the rush of emotions that swells in your chest.

That was amazing... He was amazing.

Still in a daze, you’re acting on muscle memory as you follow Jess out into the lobby, until you reach the outside and are standing in the back of a long and seemingly unending line for a cab.

"Shit, Uber prices have surged like mad," Jess is muttering next to you, frantically swiping at her phone.

She's cursing away, trying for every alternative taxi app: Lyft, Via, Gett, with little success.

You're only paying her half-attention.

Standing under a canopy of the parking zone, you're staring up at the evening above, but you’re not really seeing the light-polluted starless city sky. All you see is the sharp focus of mahogany eyes as they turned in your direction and settled on you. You can feel it still. The intensity that resided in them, burrowing into your skin and has made a home in you. An itch that you cannot scratch that is consuming you from within.

"Hey!"

The sharp sound breaks your concentration. "Did you hear me at all?" Jess asks.

There's a terse impatience in her voice that means she's probably been calling for your attention a handful of times by now while you were zoned out.

"No. I--sorry," you say sheepishly. "What were you saying?"

"Can you try getting on Uber? I have a shit rating there and no one will accept my requests."

Nodding absentmindedly, you reach for your handbag slung across your shoulder. Your shoulder feels awfully light, and you swipe at empty air before you realize, there's nothing there. You're not wearing your handbag.

Crap.

"Did you leave your handbag inside?" she asks. 

You revisit your steps. You last remember having it on when you sat down and hung it on the back of your seat. You were so out of it when you left the arena, you don't think you ever picked it up.

"I think I left it inside, I'm gonna head back in, I'll be right back."

“Alright, but hurry!” she shouts after you as you run back inside. 

Without the tight squeeze of having to manoeuvre your way through the impatient crowd, your journey back into the stadium is a much quicker one than when you entered before the game. 

Everywhere you go is empty this time around. The glitz and glamor has completely faded.

There is a strange atmosphere in the arena in the aftermath when it's devoid of people. Your footfalls echoes and bounces of the walls, and you become aware of your every movement.

You rush through the rows hurriedly, eyes scanning the plastic seats even before you have reached your own previous seat. 

When you finally do, there's nothing there.

Shit.

On stage, there is a member of the cleaning staff, mopping up the grimy sweat and grubby soap from the squeaky vinyl floor.

"Excuse me," you ask, and the man ducks up to stare at you. "You wouldn't have happened to see a handbag that was hanging here would you?"

"Check lost and found," the man says brusquely as he continues to sweep the stage unbothered by your presence.

That’s seemingly the only thing you are going to get from him. He doesn’t pay you anymore attention, even as you shift your feet to try to catch eye contact and regain his attention to ask where the lost and found section is. It doesn't work.

After two awkward shuffles, you decide to take your luck elsewhere. You make your way back down the row of seats in the hopes you might find an usher who can point you in the right direction. 

But the corridors are even emptier now. The only people wandering down the aisles are not paying you any notice and actively avoiding any eye contact you try to establish in order to initiate a conversation. In other words, they’re behaving like New Yorkers do in New York. 

You sigh, trudging along another dimly lit hall when you spot a tall lanky man munching on a half eaten donut. He’s clad in slippers and a pink bathrobe with the most angelic looking cherub baby, bouncy curls and all, strapped in a BabyBjörn to his chest. 

You’re not entirely sure that he works here, or that he would have any better idea than you at finding the Lost and Found section. 

The only reason you decide to approach him anyway is the bright security badge in big bold capital letters reading “VIP ACCESS” hung around his neck. 

Gently you tap him across the shoulder, and the man turns around.

His eyes go big and rounded, pupils dilated with shock at the sight of you as he stares down at you. “Oh holy shit!” 

The man seems high. 

Shaggy hair and unkempt scruff on his jaw, wearing sweatpants over a stained t-shirt. He certainly looks the part of a stoner, save for the part where he has a literal child strapped to his chest. 

“Sorry," you try politely. "I lost my bag and the custodian said I should go to–”

The man in front of you nods enthusiastically, but you get the sense that he’s not really taking in the words you are saying. 

“Yeah, yeah! Of course,” he interrupts. “Right down the hall. You won’t miss it, it’s the only room there” 

You peek down the hallway he’s pointing you towards. Except you can't see down the passage he’s suggesting you take because there is an obstruction. Two in fact. Two mountainous security guards standing shoulder to shoulder to block anyone from going down that route. 

That doesn’t seem right. 

Why would a Lost and Found section be so heavily guarded? 

“Are you sure that’s correct?” you eye the bodyguards cautiously, trying be polite about the obstacle the two large men blocking the said hallway presents. Especially when they are only three feet away and definitely within hearing range. 

Luckily, stoned as the overly friendly man in front of you may be, he seems to catch the drift without any further hints from you. 

“Oh right!” He grabs the security badge hanging around his neck. “Take this,” he says and drapes it over your head with dramatic flair as if he’s rewarding you with the honorary city keys. 

The two men part as you approach. You feel like you are Moses, the chosen one, and the red sea is parting before you. 

You look back one more time, and in the sliver of space between the two security guards you see your friendly stoner flash you an amicable salute in your direction as the angelic looking baby waves at you with a squeal. 

“Good luck,” he shouts over to you. 

Strange man. 

You continue down the hall, to the flickering of the glaring fluorescent light that is entirely too bright as you reach the only room at the dead end of this hall. 

It’s odd. Why would a communal space such as a lost and found section be so damn hard to find and this heavily guarded. Why on earth would anyone need a security pass just to reach it? Is this some elaborate scam run by the boxing organization? Do they make massive winnings from reselling spectators' left behind belongings on Ebay? Because otherwise this seems like exceptional poor planning on the architect’s part. Either that, or the friendly stoner pointed you in the wrong direction… which seems like the most probable option. 

For a second, you contemplate turning around to find the man again and ask him if this really is the right place. But Jess is waiting. She must be either pissed or incredibly worried at how long you’ve taken already. A twinge of guilt pass over you, you're hoping it's the former rather than the latter.

Shaking your head, you open the door and the first sight that greets you are rows after rows of oldfashioned lockers standing like sentinels. 

There are no boxes here. No junk items of lost wallets, or jackets. Instead all you see is the vision of the man standing several feet away from you. His wide impressive back filling up the space of the empty room as he looms over an open locker. 

“Parker, I told you I’m not in the mood.” 

You freeze, shoes stuck to the floor as if the soles have set in with industrial cement to the tile. 

It doesn’t matter that you can’t see his face, or that you’ve never heard him speak before. You’d recognize that perfect silhouette in a heartbeat after tonight. A man of proportions so exceptional, you’re not entirely sure he’s a real flesh and blood human. 

It's a presence so large that even in this changing room he looms so tall, you swear he must have to duck to not hit his head against the ceiling. 

He seems like he’s sprung out of the imagination of a 13 year old boy’s idea of what a Superhero from the Golden Age of comic books should be.

Miguel O’Hara. 

In front of you, he slowly rises, straightening his posture. Somehow, and you don’t understand how that’s physically even possible, he grows even taller with the movement. 

It’s like the scene out of Jurassic park when the Velociraptor is inches away and approaching. Even as you watch him slowly turn to face you, you’re too frozen to flee out of the room. The only thing you find yourself doing is breathing harder and harsher. Until it’s too late and he’s turned fully around, facing you. 

O’Hara stands unmoving, towering with the presence of a monolith. 

Even though you’re clearly not the person he was expecting. Even though you’re clearly not this Parker person he thought he was speaking to, he’s not saying anything. His face is stoic, not betraying a hint of emotion. The sole clue that he’s even registering your presence is the way his perfect arched brow arches. 

He doesn’t say a word. Just stands there, just as still as you are, eyes locked on you. 

He is assessing you, you realize. Stern, sharp and penetrating eyes, starting from the tip of your toes, up the length of your legs to your shoulders until his assessing stare lands at the crown of your head. 

It’s the same focused and unwavering attention you felt on you from across the stage not even half an hour ago when you were sat in the rickety plastic chair and he was standing in the boxing ring. 

Electricity sparks, bright and sharp, along the surface of your skin until every hair stands at alert at his attention. 

“I’m so sorry. I think there’s been a mistake”, you try to explain. “I lost my bag, and I asked where the Lost and Found section was and for some reason some random pothead told me to come down here.” 

You flash the badge at him. “They gave me this and nobody stopped me, I didn’t mean to interrupt you in your… uhm….” 

Your eyes land on the trickle of water that’s pooled on his neck. The wet sheen of his brown curls fresh out of the shower, then drift lower. 

More bare skin. Your sentence trails off mid-word. Words slurring at the tip of your tongue. It feels heavy in your mouth and syrupy, like you’ve been given the good stuff at the dentist and you lose track of what it was you were trying to say. 

His skin is tanned and marred with black-brown bruises, a testament to what his body has been put through. Somehow every inch still manages to look impossibly soft and you are itching to skim your fingertips all over him. 

Your eyes linger on his bare chest and hard stomach. He’s only clad in a towel. It modestly wraps around his narrow hips, and you catch the sparse trail of hair that graze down below his navel and every single one of your brain cells is erased of any coherent thought. 

Then he finally breaks the silence.

"What did you think of the fight?"

You blink up at him at his question. Did you miss a sentence while you blacked out? You must’ve. How did you go from walking into the wrong room-- interrupting and invading someone’s private space as he’s come right out of a shower-- to him asking you a casual question as if this is nothing out of the ordinary and you’re just sat across him at a cafe to catch up? How is he not calling security to throw you out of here? 

And what does he mean, 'what do you think?'

What are you supposed to think about it? You know nothing about boxing.

Wracking your head, you try to think of something clever to say that doesn't make you sound like a complete novice. You're replaying videotapes of boxing matches from your childhood, grasping at phrases used by announcers during the fight.

Words like footwork, technical knockout and roundhouse punch flit through your mind, but you don't know how to string them together into sentence that sounds remotely half intelligible.

In front of you, O'Hara tilts his head to the side as he observes you. Your fingers tingle from the attention of his focused gaze on you. In all of your life, you can't ever recall being this affected by a man just looking at you.

Shit, he's still waiting for an answer isn't he? He's still looking up at you with those expectant narrowed eyes, waiting for you to answer. You open your mouth, blurting out the first thing that comes to your mind.

"I liked it. It was like a dance."

The moment the words leave your mouth you regret it. Your cheeks burn with heat.

Oh god. You sound like a brainless moron.

What an incredibly ditzy thing to say. Why not just compare him to a fucking mime or a tap-dancer while you're at it?

You're better than this. But you blame your lack of cognitive functions at how the sight of this half-naked man has incinerated every last one of your brain cells.

You brace yourself for him to laugh you out of the locker room. But he doesn't. Instead that stern expression on his face breaks. His full lips curve into a small, disarmingly sweet smile.

The smile softens his features. His brown eyes go warm when he looks up at you, brows rounding and no longer tense. It's nothing at all like the angry sharp lines etched into every line of his face when he was on stage, fists braced for a fight. 

"Yeah?" he asks, so much more soft spoken than you had expected a guy of his size to be.

Still out of sorts, you nod your head dumbly at him. "Yeah."

The smile on his lips grows. You don't know if it's a trick of the light, but as dim as this gray and dingy locker room is, it seems to go a little bit brighter with it. He looks at you with a nostalgic familiarity that is reserved for a longtime friend. 

Oh god help you. He's not just scary, and alarmingly handsome in a way that makes him belong on the glossy covers of GQ. It's so much worse than that... he's cute.

You physically shake your head to snap yourself out of it.

Get a fucking grip. You’re meant to be on a seemingly futile journey to find your handbag, not a prowl to get your rock offs. 

Oh shit. 

… Except that's what this is, isn't it?

That’s why he hasn’t chased you out of his room. 

That’s why he’s trying to make small talk. 

Why he’s asking you what you thought of the match. 

He thinks you're a groupie. Some starstruck boxing fan, that's wormed their way past his manager to get a backstage pass and a chance to ride the boxing champion. You should probably say something to correct his misunderstanding...

You look back up at him. That warm and unassuming smile that's still there on his face.

Yes. You should do that. Speak up and explain the situation. But for some reason you don't. You stand there in place. Mouth parting and closing like a dumb goldfish, unable to find the words to explain the situation.

Until a terrible whisper of a thought enters your brain. What if you don't...

It lasts entirely too long. Two whole seconds before you remind yourself that it would be wrong for one. Because that would be operating under false pretenses.

...

Except would it though?

There is no membership to join the council of groupies that you need to apply for beforehand. There's no harm and no foul here.

After all, whether you're a groupie or not, if you're both willing adults, then what's the problem here?

...

The problem is that it would still be a lie, and you'd know.

Your mind is playing ping pong in the thought process.

It's like there is a tiny angel sitting on your right shoulder and a miniature devil on the left.

You look peer up at him again, biting down on your lip at the sight before you. All dark eyes and tanned skin and pouty lips. Shit.

The devil and angel may be in disagreement about the ethics of this situation, but here's the thing, they are in complete and total agreement over one thing.

Both of them want to fuck him.

To be continued.

A/N: Guys guys so sorry it took forever. Life has been wiiiiild as of late. I have quite a few WIPs going on at the moment and having a bit of a think about which ones to continue/prioritise so if you do want to see more of this one please let me know! Let me know if you enjoyed this, if you want to see more and what you would like to see.

Big thank you to my bestie Guruan who made the beautiful art banner for me. This is my treat to her because I'm unable to send her icecream in person.

And of course as always all my love and gratitude. If I could I would give her my heart on a platter: @thirstworldproblemss I got a bit stuck on how to get these two in the same room together and she helped me plot this chapter. Thank you for always letting me rubberduck things with you.

[urfavlarry]

I really wanna see a Ashlyn x Reader where the Reader gets bullied and Ashlyn hears this and comforts reader while the other group members deal with the bullys?

Ashlyn Banner x bullied!reader

warnings: mentions of bullying, swearing, bad grammar

A/N: really hope I wrote this well, I tried my best and sorry if it seems rushed :,) <3

Ashlyn knew something was wrong the moment you came to class with a bruise under your eye. You weren’t acting that different, you flinched more often but you were still pretty cheerful. She only decided to confront you when you came to her house after school had ended all bruised up with your nose bleeding. You explained to her how things have been getting hard at school, that there were rumours spread about you and people bullied you. She of course was there for you, letting you cry and talk your heart out for hours. You both didn’t go to school for a day so you could relax and have some time for yourself, talking about it and what you want to do about it and here you were, in the present day, about to go to school with the rest of the group.

You sighed and walked aside Ashlyn as the rest of the group chatted about something you didn’t really took interest in. Today you were going to confront your bullies, well at least try to. The ‘plan’ was for you to confront them if they tried anything and Ashlyn would help you out while the rest of the group kept watch in case anything went wrong. You slipped a note into one of your bullies locker and headed to class.

After long and painful 6 hours of school, you walk to the bleachers behind the school where you told them to meet you, and to your surprise they were already there. Ashlyn wasn’t with you since you just wanted this to be over with so you went without waiting for her. “Look who came guys! The weird stalker.” Yeah, the rumours were about you stalking some girl from their group. They thought you were stalking her after “copying her” and just showing up at the same place she was for a week straight. And the copying was literally just wearing something similar or the same colour as her. “For the last time, I’m not a stalker.” You say and clench your fists. They all laugh, making your face heat up slightly. The girl you ‘stalked’ came up to you and smirked. “Well, if you didn’t stalk me, then tell me your sorry of an excuse of what actually happened.” She says and looks at you with a scowl. Your legs start to tremble a bit but you keep up your stern expression. “I did not stalk you, everything was just a coincidence and I also didn’t even wear the same things as you! And just because I wore the same socks or had the same necklace, that let me inform you, half of the school has, doesn’t mean I’m fucking stalking you—!” You get pushed to the ground and the girl gets on top of you, punching you right in the nose. You fight back, holding her fists so she can’t hit you but her little minions help her out, making you defenceless.

Meanwhile Ashlyn was frantically searching for you, trying to hear at least some sound of you anywhere. The group was right behind her when Logan yells for everyone. Everyone rushes to the back of the school and Ashlyn doesn’t waste a second and throws the girl off of you, grabbing you by the hand and drags you away. She whispers something to Tyler and he nods, waving the others over. You don’t know what happened after that since Ash dragged you to sit at a bench in front of the school. She takes out bandages and starts to clean your wound. “Ash it’s just a scraped knee..” You say and she scoffs; “So? It can get infected.” She says and gives you a tissue for your bleeding nose. You shrug and look away, too embarrassed to even speak.

Ashlyn decides to break the silence and says in a stern voice; “Why didn’t you wait for me? I told you we would go together so nothing could go wrong!” She says and raises her voice slightly. You frown and stutter out a response; “I.. I thought I could.. you know, do it by myself? It’s my ‘battle’ not yours.” She grabs you by the shoulders and makes you stand up. She pulls you into a hug and you sigh, wrapping your arms around her.

“Hey, I’m fine..” You say and pat her back. She lets go of you and cups your cheek. “Y/N?” “Hm?” You look her in the eyes, falling in love over again, getting lost in her beautiful emerald green eyes. “Promise me, that if anyone bothers you ever again that you will tell me. Please don’t keep these things to yourself, I, I mean we care about you and don’t want you to be alone during these times.” She says and you nod, smiling at her. “I promise.” She nods and you see the rest of the group approaching you. You wave and notice some of them are bruised up. Your eyes widen and run over; “Hey, what the hell? What happened?” You say frantically and Taylor pats your head. “We took care of them.” She says and Tyler interrupts; “They won’t ever lay another finger on you.” He says and squeezes your shoulder. “Yeah! We got their asses good!” Aiden yells and jumps on your back, making all off you laugh, Ashlyn slightly jealous. You smile at the situation, you had the best group of friends you could ever wish for along with your wonderful girlfriend. Maybe everything went well after all.

[jaycewrites-192000]

In Every Timeline [Chapter One]

Taglist- @ameliabs-world

(If anyone else wants to be tagged, just let me know ^w^)

A young girl at the age of ten, makes her way home from school. She didn’t live too far away from her school, so she didn’t mind the walk to and back. In fact, she found herself enjoying the walks. It gave her some alone time, some time to herself, some time to think.

It was nice.

Unfortunately, it wouldn’t last long. Today, some middle schoolers decided to give her a hard time. She was stopped by two older boys, each of them trying to come off as intimidating.

“You lost little girl?”

“Where’s your little friends? Or, maybe…Don’t tell me you’re one of those friendless geeks!”

“I bet! Just look at her!”

She inwardly sighs at their attempts at scaring her and hurting her feelings. Though, what they said wasn’t entirely wrong. She really didn’t have any friends. It was hard to make friends at her school. Or rather, it was hard for her to make friends. She just gave up after a while.

She wasn’t sad about it or anything. She was doing just fine.

“Can you please get out of my way?” She finally speaks.

“Huh? Trying to order us around pipsqueak!?”

“Annoying little brat! We outta reach you a lesson!”

The two took a step closer to her. This time the sigh left her. She wasn’t a great fighter. She was only ten after all. But she did deal with her fair share of bullies, and she was able to take care of them on her own.

This was no different. Just two dumb bullies in her way.

The first one raised his fist and aimed it towards her face. She quickly dodged before deliver a punch of her own to his stomach. She wasn’t sure if he was actually hurt from it, or if it was just shock that made him stumble back. But she didn’t waste time as she did the same to the other, this time, kicking him in the gut as hard as she could.

“Damn you!”

The girl quickly tried running past them, but was grabbed by the arm and yanked back.

“Hold her still.”

One of the boys cracked his knuckles as he spoke. “We were just gonna let you go with a light slap on the wrist. But now you’re gonna get it! How would you like a few broken bones!?”

Just as he said this, fast approaching footsteps could be heard. And before she knew it, the one threatening to harm her was being kicked in the head. He was sent to the ground roughly, unconscious.

Standing above him, was a boy around her age. With a bored expression, he turned to the one holding her. “How lame. Picking on a little girl.” He muttered before rushing towards him. He jumped up into the air, and delivered the same devastating kick he dealt the first one.

He landed with ease, and turned to face the girl. “You alright?” He asks. The girl blinks before nodding her head. “Ok. See ya.” The boy says before starting to walk off.

“Wait a second!”

The boy stopped when she called for him. “What?” He asks. “How…How did you do that?” She asks him. “Do what?” The boy tilts his head. “The flying kick you just did!” The girl says, pointing back to the still unconscious middle schoolers.

“Oh that.” The boy says, placing his hands in his pockets. “I take martial arts classes with my grandpa.” He explains. “Can I do it too?” Her question confused him.

“Where is your grandpa’s dojo? I wanna take lessons too.”

“What? No way, you totally suck at fighting. It’d be a waste of time.” He says with a frown. The girl furrows her brows. “I do not!” She argues.

“I saw you trying to fight back against those guys. You barely left a mark on them. Then you tried to run away like a coward.”

“But there were two of them!”

“Which is why you shouldn’t have tried fighting them. Especially if you don’t know how to fight in the first place.”

“Then isn’t that even more of a reason to let me practice at the dojo? Then I can do those cool kicks like you do and I won’t have to worry about guys like that again.”

The boy sighs and starts walking away again. “No way. It would take you forever to get on my level.” The girl followed after him. “Like I said! That’s more of a reason why I should take lessons!”

“I already said no. And stop following me!”

“Not until you tell me where the dojo is!”

“No!”

This kind of back and forth between the two would go on for at least a week after that. It was by some stroke of luck that the boy went to the same school as her. So, she’d make sure to follow after him and try her best to convince him to let her take lessons with him.

But every time, he turned her down.

One day, she decided to follow him without him knowing. Sure it was creepy, but she was only doing it to find out where he was taking martial arts classes. After that, and after applying to join, she’d leave him alone. By then, she would have done what she had sought out to accomplish.

Her plan had proved to be successful, as she trailed him to the dojo. She waited for the boy to go inside before waiting outside. She didn’t mind the wait. It would be worth it if she could learn how to fight like him.

“What are you doing out here?”

The girl looks to her left, there stood a young man with jet black hair. A cigarette hung loose from his lips, and even from where she stood, she could smell a hint of motor oil off his clothes.

“I’m waiting.” She answers simply, causing the man to raise an eyebrow. “Waiting for…?”

The girl looks up at the dojo. “I wanna learn how to fight. But that dummy won’t let me!” She pouts. “What dummy?” Asked the man. The girl opened her mouth, only for it to fall close again. What…was that boy’s name?

“Uh. He’s short, and has blonde hair. And he does really cool kicks.”

“Oh, Manjiro?” The man asks. “You friends with him?” The girl shakes her head with a frown. “I don’t like him! He’s a jerk! He said it would be a waste of time for me to learn how to fight. I’m not good at it, sure, but that doesn’t mean I can’t learn!”

The man nods. “I agree.” He says before taking one last puff of his cigarette, then tossing on the ground and stepping on it. “I’m sorry about my little brother. He can be a pain sometimes.” Brother? This guy is that jerk’s brother? But he seems really nice.

“My name is Shinichiro Sano. Who are you?”

“Y/n L/n.”

The two talked for a while before the doors of the dojo opened, letting some kids out. Among them, was Manjiro and some other boy he was talking to. Manjiro seemed to have noticed Y/n, as an annoyed look crossed his face. “You again.”

“Who’s that?” Asked the taller boy with him. “Some brat.” Manjiro answers. “Hey!” Y/n scowls. “Manjiro, why don’t you think Y/n can take lessons here?” Asked Shinichiro. “Cause she sucks.” Manjiro says, as if Shinichiro should already know. “She’ll just get herself hurt.”

“Hm. I think that’s a great reason to let her try.” Said Shinichiro. “What do you think Baji?” The other boy hummed. “I guess? I mean, couldn’t hurt.”

“I’ll talk to Gramps about letting you take lessons.” Shinichiro tells Y/n, making her grin. “Thank you!” She beams.

Manjiro rolled his eyes. “Whatever.” He says as he walks ahead. Baji gives Y/n a small wave before hurrying after him. “Hmph. Jerk.” Y/n mutters, watching Manjiro leave. “Don’t worry.” Shinichiro starts.

“He’ll get use to you soon.”

Luck must have been on Y/n’a side. Shinichiro’s grandfather accepted her into the dojo, and lessons began right away. And just as Shinichiro said, Manjiro, or “Mikey” as he liked to be referred to, slowly got use to her being around.

But he was still a bit of a jerk.

As for Shinichiro, he couldn’t be sweeter. Y/n really grew attached to him, she would go as far to say he was like an older brother to her. That gave her even more of a reason to show up for lessons.

Y/n became friends with Emma as well, she was really nice to her when they met. Y/n was hesitant at first, but slowly opened up to her. Whenever Y/n wasn’t taking lessons, she was hanging out with Emma.

As for Mikey, he too eventually grew more comfortable with Y/n. Turns out she wasn’t completely hopeless after all. At some point, those two set aside their little dislike of each other, and became pretty good friends.

Y/n would get to hang out with him and his friends, in time, becoming friends with them as well. And being the only girl in a group of boys, their behavior and mannerisms rubbed off on Y/n. Among the group she had to admit, Ken, or Draken, was her favorite.

He was surprisingly mature for his age, only being beat by Mitsuya. And that was only by a little. As for the others though, they were just a bunch of boys. But back to Draken-

There was a point where Y/n had grown to see him as an older brother. He was nice but could get stern if he needed to. And he was a great protector. Y/n could understand why Emma liked him so much.

Y/n would have saved that big brother title for Shinichiro, as he was a great brother to the Sano kids. But honestly, she saw him as more than that. She'd go as far to say, he was almost like a father figure to her.

It was just Y/n and her mom back home, as she and her husband divorced a couple years ago.

Shinichiro kind of filled that emptiness that Y/n's dad left her with. He was always so caring, always looked out for her, always wanted to know how she was doing. He’d even let her hang out at the shop while he worked. It was quite the sight. He was so focused, and he did his job well.

He was just the coolest.

Y/n really cared about each and every single one of them. Which is why, it was all the more difficult when she had to say goodbye.

Mikey had noticed Y/n's behavior had changed lately. Y/n was less talkative, less active. She didn’t want to do much of anything with anyone. It was weird. So of course, he decided to confront her about it.

He caught Y/n on the way to Shinichiro’s shop.

“You’re acting weird. More than usual. What’s going on?” He asks. Y/n shrugged. “It’s nothing.” Mikey rolled his eyes. “You expect me to believe that? Tell me.” Y/n suddenly stop walking, Mikey did as well. “Well?” He pries.

Y/n's shoulders began to tremble, soft sniffles came from her as tears filled her eyes. Mikey was slightly surprised by this. She never cried in front of him, or anyone, before. “Y/n?”

“I’m moving away.”

“What?”

Y/n wipe away her tears, sniffling before repeating herself. “I said, I’m moving away. Away from Tokyo, away from Japan all together.”

“Why?” Mikey asks, trying to ignore that funny feeling in his chest. “It’s because of my mom’s work. We’re leaving in a week.” Y/n tells him. Mikey fell silent, the only thing that could be heard was her sniffles and soft cries.

Everyone found out eventually, and they were just as upset as Y/n was. But there wasn’t anything anyone could do. She was leaving, and she didn’t know when, or if, she'd be back.

Ok! First chapter done! Chapter two is already in the works as this is being published, so hopefully you guys will get to read chapter two soon.

I hope you all enjoy this series!

[cosmitton]

benjicot blackwood enemies/rival to lovers (?) with bracken!reader headcanons

A/N: I originally started writing this the day after the episode with “Benji” came out and never finished it until today, lol, so it’s not a very original idea. Sorry lol.

I know that he might not be Benji and that the show called him Davos, but idc idc idc. I think he fits as an aged-up Benji so that’s what he’ll be to me lol. Maybe if they give us actual Benji later in the show, I’ll come back to edit this to Davos. You can think of this as either Benji or Davos, it’s up to you but I’m referring to him as Benji.

Also, I can’t believe that the first thing I’m writing for HOTD is just because of this rabid squirrel that was on screen for maybe 5mins LMAO

Benjicot Blackwood x Bracken!F!Reader

Enemies/Rivals to Lovers(?)

Warnings: nsfw (not full-on smut, just a bit I think), a little violence, Benji being a little shit lol, reader is easily irritated oop-

As with pretty much everyone in House Bracken, you were raised to hate the Blackwoods

Regardless of whether or not anyone even remembered why at this point

As a woman, naturally there were a lot of people that opposed to you learning how to fight or participating in battle

No matter how hard you fought for it, it wasn’t your place

But you weren’t the type to just accept being pushed aside so easily

And, oddly enough, Benji was different from the other men you knew

He didn’t seem to care very much that you were a woman fighting, he just wanted someone to talk shit to

He cared more that you were a Bracken, and, even more than that, you were fun to fight and mess with

At this point, you couldn’t remember when or how this started, but it was a relatively regular occurrence for the two of you to butt heads

Occasionally coming to physical blows

Like right now

Benji really needed to learn how to shut up if he didn’t want to get punched in the face

Though he would probably say the same about you

Despite the fact that you both had swords you could’ve used, you both have a tendency to use fists with each other

“Here you spend all your time trying to prove yourself a fighter and that’s the best you can do? What a shame, Bracken.”

“Fuck yourself, Blackwood. You can prattle all you want but you have yet to draw blood when I have.”

Benji laughs, not even bothering to wipe that blood from his mouth

You try to ignore what the sight of him bloody does to you

“I’m merely being kind. We both know how much you enjoy having your hands on me. Who am I to deprive you?”

You can feel the heat creeping up your neck and into your face, but before you can respond, Benji is suddenly much closer to you

You didn’t realize how fast he could be

“Although, I’m sure we could figure out a much better way to have your hands on me if you’re so desperate.”

You’re stubbornly trying to ignore the feelings his deeper, raspy voice inspires in your belly

Instead you focus on the rage that hits you immediately

You’re both long past decorum at this point, so you don’t think twice before rushing him to tackle him to the ground

Benji’s still laughing, seeming to think this is all a game

You’re rolling around on the grass now, both of you trying to gain the upper hand on the other

For a moment, Benji uses his weight to pin you down

“I knew you couldn’t resist rolling around with me. We could find some place more comfortable-”

You bite his hand that’s pinning your shoulder

When he pulls away with a sound that’s halfway between amused and surprised, you throw your weight to roll him over

“Give up now, Blackwood, and I won’t cave your skull in.”

“You’d never harm my face, you enjoy it too much.”

“You’ve got quite a mouth on you, would that you could back it up.”

“Oh, you like my mouth, don’t you, Bracken? Don’t worry, I could show you just how talented it is if you’re so interested.”

You go to punch him before you come to a realization

Benji’s just laying there

He isn’t even trying to get up or throw you off

“What are you doing?”

“What?”

“You’re not even attempting to push me off.”

Benji grins and you immediately regret asking in the first place

“Why would I? I can get on board with you being on top if you so wish to be.”

You’re exasperated, what did you expect

You roll your eyes, frustrated that you’re not getting anywhere with this

Ignoring that you’re also frustrated because of the images his words conjure and, he’s right, you wouldn’t mind being on top either

“You’re a fool.”

You get up to walk away from him

You should’ve expected that Benjicot Blackwood wouldn’t give up so easily

He scrambles to tackle you by the knees and you catch yourself before you faceplant into the ground

Benji’s weight lands against your back and presses your chest down, your arms folded between the grass and your body

“Blackwood! Get the fuck off of me!”

His laugh is right next to your ear now and you hate the way it sends a thrill down your spine

“Come now, little spitfire, you’re running already?”

“I’d never run from a craven like you! I’ve just decided you’re not worth my time.”

You’re trying to wriggle out from underneath him, embarrassed by the way the warmth of his body encompasses yours

“Careful, you might hurt my feelings.”

“I’ll hurt you in much worse ways than that if you don’t get up immediately.”

You try to push yourself up by your arms, but that just presses you against him even more

And he makes a noise that’s like a sigh and a groan

Gods

That noise should not make your face warm and your thighs tingle the way it does

You’re both frozen now, unsure what to do with that new development

He drops his head so that it’s pressed against your neck and shoulder now

“…Ben?”

“I told you to be careful…” his voice is much deeper now, and you can feel it rumble from his chest and through your back

You could also feel something pressed against your ass

“What are you doing?” You ask again, because you don’t know what else to say

“Nothing.” He replies, but you can feel his hands on your waist now

You refuse to acknowledge the fact that you’re not trying to get away from him anymore

His hands start to move slowly up toward your chest, as if giving you a chance to tell him to back off

You don’t

You can feel his breath against your skin from where his face is tucked against your neck still

You’re breathing hard by the time his hands reach your chest

You know he can feel it because you can feel his smile against you

But he’s breathing hard too

Still, the idea that he’s affecting you more than you’re affecting him annoys you so you press yourself back against him harder

You’re rewarded with the same low noise he made earlier and you feel the same tingles between your thighs

He must take this as a challenge, too, because one of his hands moves to your thigh and squeezes

“Must I warn you yet again to be careful?” Benji breathes

“You may as many times as you wish, however I may not listen.”

He laughs breathlessly and presses himself harder against you, pushing you against the ground

In response, you press back again

And you two continue like that, pushing and pulling like the ocean, rhythmic

His hand moves further up your thigh, pressing between them

Your legs part further without thought

You’re not thinking of much but Benji anymore

The movements of his hips are getting more frantic, his breathing heavier

His hand finally slips down the trousers you’re wearing to touch your skin directly

And you learn that Benjicot Blackwood doesn’t know how to shut up even now

“Gods, I always wondered how soft you’d be.”

“I knew you’d be so warm, I dreamt about it.”

“I bet you’re so beautiful, too. Pretty little princess.”

“So wet, gods, have you thought about this as much as I have?”

You wondered if he even knew what he was saying at this point, considering it all just sounded like rambling now

But you also couldn’t deny it, you had thought about this multiple times – even in your dreams

You have no awareness of how quiet or loud the noises you’re making might be right now

Probably for the best, though – you’d most likely be embarrassed

Either way, you know Benji can still hear you because he won’t stop smiling

If you weren’t so distracted by his fingers right now, you’d punch his smug face again

He’s lucky his hands make up for his personality

You’re almost nervous by the feeling that’s quickly creeping up on you right now – having never experienced it before and unsure of what exactly will happen

He must notice by the way that you’re squirming, almost trying to get away

“It’s alright,” he murmurs, kissing your neck, “I’ve got you. I’m here, relax.”

You figure he must know more about it than you, which isn’t exactly surprising from what you’ve heard about what boys his age typically get up to at night

So you relax and give into the feelings he conjures in you with his fingers

He must be feeling similar things by the low moan-breaths he’s making and the quickening of his hips

You gasp, pressing your mouth against the back of your hand that grips the grass underneath you, when that building pressure finally snaps

Your thighs, almost on instinct, start to close around his hand that doesn’t stop moving between them

But his other hand moves to squeeze at your hip when his finally still, pressing his open mouth against your neck as he gasps lowly

His hips finally slow, seeming to come back to the world as you do

He’s still softly touching you, until you start to feel a bit too sensitive and squirm away

You’re both silent for a moment, aside from your harsh breaths

And now that you’re back to reality – you’re faced with one question more important than the others

Where do you two go from here?

[steinfellds]

Prison Chains

Pairing: PrisonGuard!Wanda x Fem!Reader

Summary: After being sent to jail for armed robbery, people start treating you like a joke. You need protection, and only one guard is willing to give you that at a small cost.

Warnings: blood, fighting, mentions of armed robbery, dub-con (kinda?? putting it to be safe), fingering, taking r's virginity, giving head, hair pulling, praising, dom!wanda, bruising.

1.1k Words

/ masterlist / / w.m masterlist /

═════════☾☆☽═════════

"Move it, newbie."

You let out a grunt as you're shoved onto the ground. You look up at the person who shoved you and scowl when you realise who it is.

"Leave me alone, Romanoff." You mutter, standing up and stepping closer to her.

"Or what, huh? You gonna wave a baseball bat in front of my face and demand all my money?" Natasha loudly laughs, making everybody look over at her.

"Oh, shut the fuck up." You say, grabbing onto her shoulders and pushing her away from you.

Natasha stumbles back a few steps and before you could even blink, she tackles you onto the floor and starts punching you in the face. Her fists come down hard and fast, causing you to immediately start bleeding. You attempt to block her hits by bringing your arms up to protect your face but she's stronger than you and pushes them out of the way.

Suddenly, you see a person pulling Natasha away from you and another person pulling you to your feet. You're not entirely sure what is happening as the blood dripping into your eyes is affecting your vision, but you know you're being dragged into a small room. A warm cloth rubs over your face and you see one of the prison guards, Wanda Maximoff, in front of you.

Wanda Maximoff is one of the most well-known and feared prison guards. She's a tough guard and not many people mess with her. The ones that do mess with her, aren't seen by anyone till months later.

"Awe, poor baby. She got you good, didn't she?" Wanda coos, continuing to wipe the blood off your face.

You nod, trying to hold back your tears.

"She's been calling me names ever since I got here, and now she's done this." You jester towards your face.

Wanda places the bloodied cloth down on the counter and picks up a band-aid . She places the band-aid on a small cut above your eyebrow.

"Natasha's like that," Wanda says, "When I first started working here, she tried to force me to do things I didn't want to do. Though, I shut that down pretty quickly by scaring her a little bit."

"She fears you?" You ask in surprise. Natasha doesn't seem like the type of woman to fear anyone.

Wanda looks at you with a grin, "Of course she does, baby."

Your heart flutters at the pet name.

"You know, I could protect you from Natasha." Wanda suddenly offers.

Your eyes widen in surprise, "Really? You'd do that for me?"

Wanda nods, "But if you want this from me, I want something from you." Wanda places her hand on your hip and pulls you towards her.

Your heart drops when you realise what she wants.

"I-I've never done something like that before." You stutter out awkwardly.

"That's okay, sweetheart. I promise I'll be soft and sweet with you." Wanda's hands drift toward your waistband and starts to tug it down.

You didn't protest until the bottom half of your body was bare and on display for Wanda to shamelessly look at.

"Should we even be doing this?" You ask, "I mean, is it even legal?"

Wanda pushes you against the wall and kneels in front of you. She grabs onto one of your legs and throws it over her shoulder. Your breath hitches in your throat as you feel her hot breath hit your cunt.

"You don't seem to care about if it's legal or not," Wanda smirks as she drags two fingers through your folds, bringing them up to your face to show you her glistering fingers. "You're drenched, baby."

Your face turns red in embarrassment and you look away from Wanda. Wanda softly grabs onto your face with her spare hand and tsks at you.

"Look at me, Y/n."

You hesitantly look back at Wanda.

"Good girl." Wanda rewards you by slipping a single finger into you.

Wanda is quick to find your G-spot, continuously hitting it over and over until she believes you're ready and slips her second finger into you.

You moan loudly and quickly cover your mouth to muffle any other noises that escape your mouth. You don't want anyone else to know about this.

"God, you're so tight." Wanda groans, feeling you clench around her fingers.

You moan softly at Wanda's words. It's almost embarrassing how wet you are. You can feel yourself dripping into Wanda's hand and down her arm.

"More, please." You beg, scrunching your eyes shut and throwing your head against the wall.

Wanda's lips quickly wrap around your clit, sucking and licking softly. Your hand threads through her hair, pulling her closer towards you and keeping her head in place.

"Fuck, I think I'm gonna cum," You start to grind onto Wanda's face, needing to reach your high quicker.

"Cum when you need to," Wanda mumbles, pulling back for a few moments so she could speak.

You let out a loud moan as the coil in your stomach snaps. Your back arches off the wall and you have to bring both of your hands up to your mouth to muffle yourself. You start to quickly become overstimulated and push Wanda's head away from you.

Wanda stands up and immediately pulls you into a deep kiss. You moan softly when you taste yourself on Wanda's lips. You try to kiss down Wanda's neck and leave marks but her voice stops you.

"Don't mark me, baby." She breathes out, "People will know about our little deal."

You start to whine about how nobody will notice but Wanda silences you by kissing you again. Reluctantly, you pull away from Wanda's lips and rest your forehead against hers to regain your breath.

"That was a good first time, thank you." You whisper with a smile.

Wanda grabs your hand and kisses the back of it. "How about we make this a weekly thing? I can double your protection."

"But what if someone catches us?" You ask in pure fear and concern. You don't want your sentence to be extended or Wanda fired from her job.

Wanda shakes her head, "Nobody will find out. You trust me, right?"

You nod.

"Good girl."

Wanda helps you put your clothes back on and attempts to make you appear as normal as possible before leaving the room.

"Head down to the infirmary and get some ice for your face. It's going to bruise." Wanda instructs before walking towards Natasha's cell block.

You can't help the small smile that spreads across your lips when you hear Natasha grunting out in pain and Wanda yelling at the top of her lungs. You're safe now.

[dayyydr3amm3rr]

IMAGINE⚠️

Imagine...being in a relationship with Jordan Li and Marie Moreau, and getting into a fight with a student about your relationship

****************

Warnings: Cussing, homophobia, blood, supes going at it with fists and powers, mentions of taking pills (the kind Shetty prescribed Cate...not pills, pills)

Things to Know: Reader is female in this imagine, reader's powers are like Killer Frost's from The Flash. So once the Reader uses her powers, when she speaks, I imagine her voice is sort of layered, like there's more than one person speaking using the same voicebox. And the longer reader uses her powers, the more she looses herself and becomes more like Killer Frost, just like in The Flash, where Caitlin looses control and Killer Frost takes over. The bolded words are reader speaking, but it's more like Killer Frost speaking if that makes sense. Like, her voice doesn't sound like her.

Featuring Marie Moreau

****************

     You didn't think. Your ears were ringing. All you heard was her words before your fist went flying towards her face. You could only stare towards your girlfriend whose eyes widened with surprise when she witnessed what you did. You couldn't hear her calling your name as you slid your backpack off your shoulder, letting it fall to the floor as you turned on your heel to face the girl who was sprawled on the floor groaning in pain as she held her cheek in her hand.

     Your eyes began to glow a bright icy blue as your hands started gathering a cold mist that danced between your fingers. "Sorry, didn't hear you bitch...what was it you said?" A crowd had begun to form, some people that gathered decided to take out their phones and start recording. The girl who you punched sat up, still holding on to her bruising cheek as she glared at you. "You heard what I said you psycho dyke bitch! I said that it was fucking weird for three people to be fucking each other...unless one of you is the cuck. Are you that much of a fucking freak? You get off on watching people fuck—"

     Your fist swung at her face again, this time, a satisfying crack was heard before blood began to spurt out of her nose. Good. You broke it. The girl let out a grunt as her face was knocked to the side, her body following after, hitting the floor hard by the force of your punch. It certainly didn't help that your hand was covered in a cold mist. Due to the freezing temperatures of your knuckles, when they made contact with her warm face, your knuckles left icy burns on her face. "Sorry...I just can't seem to hear you over the sound of you getting your ass kicked."

     The crowd around you let out different sounds of amusement, with some laughing, and some "oooing" at the scene in front of them. You didn't pay them any mind. All you were focusing on was defending your lovers. Defending your relationship. "You broke my fucking nose you fucking freak!" The girl almost screeched. She was really glaring now. You tilted your head, smiling slowly as you got ready for a real fight. Marie cussed from behind you. She had to get through to you somehow. She had to stop this. You took a step towards the girl who was still on the floor, your hands out by your sides as the cold mist really began to flow.

     The ground was becoming covered with it. The hallway was starting to get cold. Marie quickly took out her pocket knife and cut her palm with it, grunting as she did so. She had to stop you. She looked up at you, your back facing her, she would definitely have to apologize to you later for what she was about to do. She took a deep breath before shooting her hands out towards you. A bloody tendril shot towards your ankle, wrapping around it. You looked down at it in surprise. Marie pulled, expecting her tendril to trip you, cause you to fall to the floor, instead, it broke. The blood that was closest to her splattered on the floor in front of her, but the farther away the tendril was, the less splatter there was, and the more bloosicles that broke on the floor.

     The blood that was around your ankle simply fell to the floor in shards, no damage done to you. Your core temp was well below freezing. You froze her blood tendril with ease. Marie watched as you took another step towards the girl before lifting her up by her collar. Marie let out another curse as she pulled out her phone. No one else was going to be of any help. But if there was one person who could help her get through to you, it was your partner. She sent a quick SOS to Jordan, praying that they would hurry. Marie heard you let out a pained cry and looked up in a panic.

     She saw you slide a few feet away from her after you had landed on the floor, two small holes in your shirt, smoke coming out of them. But no blood. She looked up  and noticed that the girl you had punched twice, now had glowing eyes. They were glowing a bright yellow. Of course the girl you picked a fight with would have a heat related power. "Bitch! That fucking hurt." Your voice was taking on an angry tone now. Jordan needs to hurry the fuck up. Marie couldn't use her powers unless she wanted her blood to freeze. Her powers were useless when it came to stopping you.

     "Had to even the playing ground somehow. That reminds me...I need to repay you for my broken nose." The girl's voice was irritating you now. Due to her broken nose, her voice was sounding more higher pitched and nasally. "Good luck with that," you began, eyes glowing brighter, "but I can't wait to put you in your fucking place you fucking homophobic pig..." the girl's eyes glowed a bright yellow in response, and the two of you went at it. You shot icicles and cold blasts her way, she shot heat vision and balls of hot light at you. The crowd had to disburse in order to avoid getting hit in the crossfire.

     Jordan didn't know what to expect when they received an SOS from their girlfriend. Usually SOSs from either you or Marie were never really urgent, typically it was because one of you was in the mood and wanted them to join in, or maybe for a food run. But something about this particular SOS had Jordan on edge. There was an ice cube and snowflake emoji right after the SOS. Jordan had an inkling of what the could mean. "Fuck..." Jordan cussed under their breath. Brink was teaching. They were in the middle of a lesson. But fuck. If Marie or you were in trouble...Jordan sprung out of their seat, grabbing their bag before bolting out of the class.

     They left behind a surprised Brink and shocked class. Jordan Li never left class early. Jordan ran down the hallway, past lockers and rooms. They were about to pull out their phone to call Marie and ask where she and their girlfriend was when they had to duck out of the way of the flying girl who slammed into the wall before slumping onto the ground. The girl didn't look okay. She was covered in dirt and scratches, blood was caked under her nose and her face had what looked like open sores spread across it. She clothes were ripped in places and the girl was shivering.

Jordan suddenly shivered, feeling very cold all of a sudden. They looked over to find a hole in the wall, it was were the girl had come flying in from. They could see the glowing eyes of their girlfriend on the other side, her hands coming up to touch the sides of the hole, spreading ice across the walls. "Aww, don't pass out yet...I'm not finished with you." That was their girlfriend's voice...but it also wasn't. "Shit..." Jordan breathed out, eyes widening at seeing you creep through the hole, the cold mist still falling between your fingers.

     They quickly switch to their other gender, their chest puffing out as they took a stand in between you and the girl you were fighting. "She's had enough Y/n!" Jordan states, keeping their eyes on you as you tilted your head at them. "Y/n isn't here at the moment, but I'll gladly take a message! As for her...she's had enough when I say she's had enough." If it were possible, Jordan would say your eyes glowed brighter at the thought of this girl. They could practically feel your anger towards her. Said girl had weakly pulled herself into a sit-up. Leaning heavily against the wall she had hit, hands spread out in front of her in an act of surrender.

     "P-Please...I'm sorry! I didn't-I didn't mean anything I said!" She sniffled. You had tilted your head with a laugh, looking at the girl in disbelief. "Aww how cute. You think I care for your apologies? You should have thought of that before you decided to bad mouth her partners. She didn't even hesitate to let me take control after hearing what you said about them. And I'll be damned if my chance at playing in the sun goes to waste before I'm gone again." You took a threatening step forward, only stopping when Jordan only tilted their head, challenging you.

     "Careful lover...she may like you, but I'm not as easily quelled by pretty brown eyes..." Jordan tilted their head at your words, a smirk crossing their face. "You think my eyes are pretty?" "I'll gouge them out with icicles..." Jordan brought their hands up, palms out, to show they weren't a threat. They remained in front of the girl who was barely conscious. They could see rips in your clothes, singed edges indicating this girl had gotten you a few times. Both of you were covered in bruises and blood. Jesus. Jordan and Marie would have their hands full patching you up after this.

     Jordan noticed Marie making her way through the hole in the wall, staying quiet as she kept her eyes on you, concern being her main expression. "Y/n...?" Marie's voice caused you to pause, the glow in your eyes flickering in response to her voice. Jordan took notice and knew that you were still in there somewhere. They just had to bring you out. "Y/n...it's time to come back to us now...she's been beaten...she can't take anymore." Jordan said lowly, noticing your eyes flickering again. You blinked a few times, shaking your head as if to clear it, and let out a painful grunt.

     The eyes that settled onto Jordan were back to glowing at full power, a harsh glare set into them. "I told you...Y/n isn't here at the moment...she's taking a well deserved nap." You snapped, forming icicles in your hands. Jordan's hands clenched into fists as their eyes trailed down to the sharp objects forming from your hands. "Now step aside. I'd hate to mess up that pretty face of yours." You threatened, grip tightening on the icicles you had formed. Don't hurt them...not them...You twitched slightly...that was her voice...well your voice. In her head. You were trying to gain back control. Your eyes began to flicker again, sometimes fading back to their normal color completely before going back to their icy blue glow.

     Marie took your brief distraction to rush forwards and grab a hold of your wrist, flinching slightly at your cold skin. Jordan's eyes widened as they immediately reached out, taking a step forwards. "Marie!" Their voice was loud with panic, unsure of what could happen to her once she got too close to you. Her grip had you spinning to face her, a glare still in your eye as you made eye contact with your other half. The wrist that wasn't grabbed began to raise, icicle gleaming dangerously. Marie however kept calm, she had a glare of her own in her eye. "You could try to hurt me...but you won't." She stated, watching as the glow began to flicker once again.

     She could see your hands trembling. "You claim not to like us...but you do." Marie's voice was definitive, almost authoritative. "You may not want to admit it...but you have feelings for me, for Jordan...you like us and you know you do..." Marie could hear the icicles drop and break against the floor. She kept eye contact with you, watching the internal battle for control show in your eyes. "Think about it. If you didn't like us...you wouldn't have defended our relationship. You beat up a girl because she bad mouthed me and Jordan...you defended us...someone who supposedly doesn't like us wouldn't do that."

     You jolted, feeling hands wrap around your waist from behind, a head placing themself on your shoulder, short hair ticking your neck. "You had plenty of opportunities to attack me...but you didn't." Jordan had shifted, their voice more feminine and hands smaller on your waist. "It's okay to like us, Frosty." Even though they were serious, their tone held just a bit of teasing on it, a certain lightness to it that had you shaking your head. You were really trying to gain back control now. Marie took your other wrist, shifting her fingers a bit so she could grab a hold of your hands instead. "Sh...She'll put me away again...she'll take those pills and...I'll go to sleep...I don't want to go to sleep..."

     Marie and Jordan shared a look. They had no idea you were taking power dampeners. "We'll talk to her..." Marie reassured. "But you have to let her have control again...she probably feels terrible for what she let happen...she needs us right now." Marie said gently, squeezing the hands she was holding. You let out a sigh, eyes barely glowing now. "You promise you'll talk to her? I don't want to go to sleep..." " We'll talk to her. We promise." Jordan spoke up, squeezing your waist gently. At their promise, you closed your eyes, the coldness began to fade away, skin warming back up to a normal temperature. You opened your eyes and they were back to their normal color, no glow in sight.

     You leaned back against your partner heavily, the long use of power draining you. Jordan tightened their grip on you, letting you rest against them. "I'm sorry..." you whispered, eyes focusing on Marie, who didn't let go of your hands. Marie shook her head gently. "No need to apologize. You were defending us...it was kind of hot." She teased, giving you a smile. Jordan snorted from over your shoulder, but held you close. "We're going to have to talk about it..." they said, giving Marie a look. "Power dampeners?" They added, tilting their head to look over at you. "That can wait. Right now, she needs rest...and she needs to get to the infirmary...she's not looking too hot." Marie said, looking over to the girl who was currently passed out against the wall.

Author's Note: Part 2 anyone? 😏

[blood-grove]

— school fights

— dad!ghoap & reader scenario based off my fics here :3

— tws; ofc fighting mentions, injuries , annoying adult (principal)

a/n; this isnt a chapter to odd adjustments just a scenario so pls dont treat this as a next chapter !

Fuck Fuck Fuckkk.

I was so fucking screwed.

But honestly the kid deserved it.

God my fist hurt so damn bad, I just tried rubbing it despite the fact I'm pretty sure I bruised my knuckles pretty badly.

Managed to sock him in the face though god damn it hurt.

I've never really gotten into fights much barely at all really, and it's been good at this school so far.

All into this one fucking kid decided to start fucking up your day for two weeks straight, You didn't even know what you did to cause this.

You weren't the tallest person either which also didn't help your situation Nearly comically shoved in the locker, Always having to quickly rush to your next class just in case the long open hallway would flood and stop up with foot traffic.

The relentless harassment, and the honestly uncreative insults thrown at you.

You just snapped.

John had packed me lunch usually I didn't ask since honestly I never got used to asking for things I felt everything they've gave me so far was enough, I didn't want to be spoiled even though there was a nagging voice saying I wasn't being spoiled.

This sort of parental affection made me feel spoiled, Made me feel like I almost had too much.

The principals voice brought me out of my thoughts.

"Are you listening?!"

No.

"Yes.."

"I've already called both of your parents both of your behaviors were inexcusable- And you? Biting one of your classmates?!"

I slightly flinched.

Yeah I did bite them.

But that was also deserved, I hated this school's stupid no-tolerance policy, Nearly the whole class was there saw it.

They all saw him dump that milk carton on my head my hair still damp, I tried to just walk away but being shoved onto the ground was my final straw as I punched him, and then we were both on the floor he was bigger than me and obviously, And I wasn't made for fighting he had landed a few more hits on me than I had on him.

So I bit him.

Hard.

Then the teachers finally got in threw the small crowd of students and pulled us apart.

"What are you some kind of dog? Do your parents teach you nothing?"

I just stayed silent gripping my pants leg as avoided eye contact, Why was I getting torn into for self-defense? Her shrill voice was getting on my nerves at this point getting to them bad.

I doubted things would go any better if I completely shut down, But eventually, she let up on me and went over to the teary-eyed boy no doubt from my bite of just to gain sympathy I couldn't care.

I just pulled my legs to my chest as he chewed on my lip focused on the ground.

This discussion was just hell, I wanted to throw up, yell, and vomit all once.

We both were getting suspended for a week, You would be put in sperate classes as if that was going to stop any other interaction from happening.

And you were supposed fucking apologize?.

"What?" I spoke up finally as the principal looked over at me Simon looked over at me as well had luckily arrived before the other kids' parent came which would have basically felt like my doom feeling like they were just going to gang up on me and guilt me till he came.

"You bit another student-"

"He dumped milk on me he's been fucking with me for two weeks!"

"Watch your language-"

"I-" I stopped as Simon slightly glanced over at me and I just gave up at that point as I bit my lip nearly crumbling up the apology paper I was given.

I was sniffling quietly by the time we left the office.

"Wait here." Simon finally said something as he headed back into the office leaving me to sit down on a nearby bench as I sniffled tears streaming down my face.

Simon came back out a few minutes later.

"Where's the paper?" Simon looked over at me as I handed him the paper as he just ripped it up tossing it into the trash.

"Why'd you do that?-"

"Do you want to go get ice cream?"

"..Yeah."

"Ow"

"Sorry.." Simon mumbled as he wrapped up my bruised knuckles and hand, My other holding my ice cream cone.

"Well get it wrapped up in ice at home.." I just nodded as he shifted getting up from his crouched position and picking up his own cup of ice cream.

He sat back down and we sat in silince for a while as we ate out ice cream.

"..Are you upset?"

He glanced over at me.

"Yes."

"I-"

"For not telling us you were being bullied."

"Well..I..I just thought.." I just sighed I went quiet looking away I could hear him shift taking another spoonful of ice cream.

"..If it happens again tell me.." I looked over at him as he shifted.

"You don't have to write that apology letter.."

"W-Well you ripped it up so..Yeah I thought so.."

"I'm going to the gym tomorrow.."

He paused as he shifted as he got up to throw away his ice cream cup.

"I want you too come."

"I-..Why..?"

"So I can teach you how to punch someone properly."

a/n; idk what to put here so this is it lmao

[tinythebunni]

Perv! Ghostface! Ethan Landry x Naive Reader

“Oh Ya dumb lil thing…”

WARNING: dub con and blood play

(*^‿^*)

Around noon, you arranged for Ethan, your absolute best friend, to meet your boyfriend Jesse at Ethan’s house. You and Jesse had been dating for about a month and you’d never been happier!

Atleast, that’s what you told most people. Sometimes Jesse would get really mad and hit you, really hard. You thought it was because you had done something wrong, so you just didn’t say anything.

But Ethan, the ever perceptive person, caught on to it when you flinched when Jesse wrapped his arm around your shoulder.

Wordlessly, he walked up to him and punched him on the jaw. Jesse fell to the ground, hard.

You just stood there, frozen in shock. Lips parted into a gasp as you watched your boyfriend groan in pain.

Snapping out of it, you yelled at Ethan.

“Why would you do that! He didn’t even do anything this time!”

“This is what best friends do baby, they protect each other” he spoke while slowly pulling out a knife.

He moved so fast, you didn’t even see the glimmer of metal in the light. All you heard was Jesse’s first scream. And then a second, and a third, a fourth, a fifth, and so on.

You could hear the knife stabbing him, like a wet scratching sound. You were frozen with fear. Ethan didn’t stop until he was satisfied with the amount of stab wounds Jesse had.

Jesse was long dead after the 4th stab. Ethan laid his dead body against a wall and turned to you with a look in his eyes that scared you.

He looked rabid, like he was going to pounce on you. You were scared you were next.

And you were. He grabbed you and with all of your strength you tried to get away but he was too strong.

“Stop fucking touching me! Let me go!”

He didn’t listen to you, he just lowly whistled as he carried you over to his couch. He dropped you and watched as you crawled as far as possible on the couch and tried to make yourself as small as possible.

He didn’t say anything for a while. He just watched you sit there and think. Eventually, you started crying, which confused Ethan.

Weren’t you happy now that you were safe? He tilted his head, watching you like a confused puppy.

“Why you crying baby?”

“You killed my fucking boyfriend” you screamed as he tried to get closer to you. There was only so much room on this couch. You had to make a run for it.

When Ethan reached to touch you, you kicked him in the gut and ran for the door.

You didn’t make it 3 steps before he had you pulled on his lap. Your back was to his stomach and you were staring directly at your ex boyfriends dead eyes.

You started to sob uncontrollably. You were so so scared. In the midst of your crying, you could feel something poking you. Something hard and long. Was he gonna kill you now?!

“Please please don’t kill me! I thought we were best friends Ethan! I never did anything wrong to you and I just-“

He didn’t let you finish his sentence, he kissed you. It was hard and rushed. You tried to push away from him but he didn’t let you. Dropping his knife, he wrapped his arms around your waist and pushed you closer to him.

You beat your fists against his chest as you tried and tried to get away from him. But it was no use, he was stronger than you. You went slack, letting him finish kissing you. There was nothing you could do anyways.

Ethan smirked into the kiss when he felt you give up. Slowly pushing you to sit on his lap, he licked your lip, asking for permission.

You didn’t realize it but you parted your lips immediately for him. Your body knew what you wanted, your head just couldn’t catch up.

You could feel his tongue exploring your mouth. Every crevice, every bump, everywhere. He had complete control of you

He slowly pulled away from the kiss for air. Your eyes were closed still, and your lips parted and gleaming with saliva.

You tried to lean back in for more, but Ethan leaned away from you, teasing you.

You opened your eyes with a pout and a whine. You wanted him to kiss you again. At this point, you had forgotten about your boyfriend in the haze of the kiss.

“Come on baby, ya gotta tell me what you want.” He smiled at you, flipping the knife over in his hand. He could feel a wet spot forming on his crotch from you.

Fuck, he was so hard. He needed to be in you right now. “I want more! I wanna kiss again.”

God you were adorable. Your lips forming words with a slight out as your eyes formed slight tears. You were still scared, eyeing his knife every so often.

He pulled you back in, and this time you kissed him back with just as much passion and roughness. You were inexperienced, he could tell. Your lips moved like you had no idea what to do.

Ethan slowly made his way down to your neck, leaving kisses in his wake. His lips parted and sucked on the brown skin in between your neck and shoulder.

He licked and sucked as you fidgeted in his lap. It felt so good! He was making you feel so good. You knew this was wrong, for gods sake, he just killed your boyfriend!

You didn’t really want him anyways, you’d always liked Ethan. Ever since that first sleepover you guys had.

“Ethan, please!” You whined as you started grinding on his lap.

“Poor baby, is this not enough?” He said with a mocking pout. He wanted you to work for it. He knew what you wanted, you just had to say it.

“I want more! Please please give me more, I wanna feel good, please please please make me feel good!” You we’re babbling like you weren’t even thinking about your words.

Ethan moved to lay you down on the couch as he picked his knife up once more. He lifted it up to your lips as he eyed you.

“Lick it.”

You didn’t know why, but you did. It tasted metallically and nasty. You licked the blood clean off the knife, just like he wanted.

Once you were done, he slowly trailed the blade down to your neckline of the shirt you had on. It was a cute little pink shirt with a white bow in the middle.

Wordlessly, he looked you in the eyes and cut clean through the fabric of your top. He then trailed it down to your shorts and cut through those too. Now you were just clad in your underwear and bra, all for him.

He trailed his knife down to your thigh, as he thought about what to do next.

And then he got an idea. You could feel the first time the knife peirced your flesh, not deep, only a small cut. He was cutting you, writing something.

You cried out in pain, this hurt so much! You started crying again. You hated how this felt but you loved how Ethan was looking at you right now.

“Such a fucking crybaby, can’t take what I’m giving you without a little bit of pleasure.” You DDINT get a chance to answer as he licked your clit through your underwear.

You whines in pleasure as your back arched up off the couch, lips parted in an “O”. He licked up and circled your clit with his tongue and you could feel the wet fabric rubbing your lips.

You didn’t even realize he had finished cutting you until you looked down at him. He had his knife on your thigh, tip covered in your blood.

His head was in between your thighs, circling your clit through your underwear and thumb teasing your hole, like he was gonna push it in.

But what really caught your attention was the bloody words on your thigh. ‘Ethan’s Bitch’

You could feel yourself getting even wetter as you moaned at the thought of walking around with these words on your thigh.

You were knocked out of your thoughts when ethan pulled his head away. You were about to whine but ethan was already pulling your underwear down and wrapping his lips around your cunt.

You gasped and your head tilted back as you whines and moaned. His lips wrapped around your clit, his left thumb rubbing your lips. He slowly pushed his finger inside you, fingering you slowly as he made you feel good with his tongue.

He looked up at you as your moans got louder and more high pitched. Your head was leaning over the arm of the couch, eyes closed and lips parted in pleasure. Your eyebrows scrunched up like you were confused. Back arching up into the air and hands grasping at the couch for something to ground you.

Fuck, you were a dream! Ethan grabbed the knife and pulled away from your clit. You looked down to see him lick the blood off the tip and slowly make its way towards your clit.

He flipped the knife around so that the handle was facing you. You and him made eye contact as he pushed the handle inside.

Your lips parted as no sound released and your eyes closed again.

But Ethan wasn’t having that. “Look me in the eyes when I fuck you, baby. I wanna see how good I’m making you feel.”

You opened your eyes and looked into his. He looked at you with the most love in his eyes, like you were his idea of heaven.

He thrust it into you as you moaned and your chest rose and feel with each hitching breath. You could feel yourself getting closer and closer to your peak.

Ethan could tell you were about to cum, so he leaned down once more and started to kitten lick your clit.

You didn’t last long after that. You came with a scream and a moan of his name. You spasmed under his touch, like you were being electrocuted.

He licked and fucked you through your high and watched as you went limp. Your thighs gleaming with salvia and blood, your cunt leaking your cum.

You looked up at him after a while and leaned up to his face. You were a little uncertain but you leaned in for a kiss. He kisses you back, of course.

You parted your lips and his tongue slipped him. There was no fight for dominance, you were under his complete control. You were submitting yourself to him. The thought made his cock ache.

He could feel it throbbing in his jeans. Like a reminder of his leaking tip and need to cum.

He pulled away and flipped you around so your back was to his. You were face to face with your boyfriend again. You didn’t care anymore though, you just wanted Ethan to make you feel good.

You could hear him unbuckling his pants and you reached behind you to help him pull his jeans down. You could feel his cock pressing into your ass as he ground up into you.

You leaned your head on his shoulder and kissed him once more. He pulled his cock out his boxers and started stroking himself.

He whimpered into the kiss as he finally got some kind of relief. When you finally realized what he was doing, you wanted to help. You used the hand closest to you to wrap around his cock.

You were giving him a hand job and Ethan was gonna cum soon. Your hand felt so much better than his. It was soft, slight calluses from working, doing something.

Your hand stroked him and you angled it so that when you reached the tip, your palm would run over it and give him more pleasure. It felt right.

Ethan groaned into the kiss, hands shaking behind you. He pulled away as he used his hands to hold him up on the couch as he leaned back and panted. He was close, really fucking close.

His cheeks were pink and his pupils blown. He was no longer groaning anymore. He was whining your name, over and over again. You felt his cock spasm in your hand and you looked down to see it.

8 1/2 inches, red mushroom tip, and god he was thick. Mesmerized, you leaned down to lick the tip, and that was when Ethan came. You felt him arch his back and before you could realize it, he was pushing your head down so you’d be deepthroating him.

You couldn’t breathe, but he didn’t care. He started to fuck your throat as he came. Thick white cum spilling down your throat as he thrust hard and fast into your mouth. You could feel his thigh against your nose and his pelvis against your cheek.

You went limp and let him do what he wanted once more. He rode himself through his high and once he was down, he let you up for air. You gasped and tried to pull in as much air as possible.

He flipped you around again and you felt his cock against your naked back.

“My turn baby, think you can take all of me in that pretty pussy of yours?”

[illegal-spiegel]

ꜱᴏʀᴇ ʟᴏꜱᴇʀ

ꜱᴘɪᴋᴇ ꜱᴘɪᴇɢᴇʟ x ꜰ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

ɢᴇɴʀᴇ: ꜱᴍᴜᴛ

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: ꜱᴘɪᴛ ᴘʟᴀʏ, ᴅʀʏ ʜᴜᴍᴘɪɴɢ, ᴅᴏɪɴɢ ᴅᴀ ɴᴀꜱᴛʏ ᴏɴ ᴀ ɢʀᴏꜱꜱ ᴍᴀᴛ ʟᴍᴀᴏ, ᴘᴜʙʟɪᴄ ꜱᴇx?, ᴇxʜɪʙɪᴛɪᴏɴɪꜱᴍ??, ᴅᴇɢʀᴀᴅᴀᴛɪᴏɴ

Spike leans against the doorway as he watches you, a secret, fond smile on his lips. You’re in nothing but a navy blue bra and a matching pair of shorts, but his eyes are trained on the way your hands are moving. You’re up on your tippy-toes moving around the mat, your hands protected by the black kumpur as you lay consecutive, hard hits to the punching bag. He lets out an inaudible hum when you start doing jab crosses followed by some lead teeps. He has to admit, he’s impressed by how far you’ve come with your fighting abilities since he first met you. 

After watching you for a couple of minutes, you drop your hands and grab the punching bag to stop it from swinging around. Your chest rises and falls with your labored breathing, and who can really blame Spike for staring, especially since you’re just letting sweat bead down your neck and letting it go down the valley of your breasts. 

“Need something, Spiegel?” you suddenly call out, shocking him from his staring contest with your breasts. He looks up to your eyes to find you smirking at him, making him smirk right back with a hum. 

“Yeah. Let’s go. You and me, one on one. Mano y mano,” he says as he steps further into the room, walking towards the dueling mat. You raise a brow at this, starting to remove your kumpur as you follow him in the direction of the mat. 

“What, seriously? You never want to fight me,” you reply, voice laced with suspicion. He turns to look at you over his shoulder, his brow cocking up while a smirk starts to crawl across his face. 

“Well, now I do. I was scared of hurting you before, but now I know that you can take me,” he replies, stopping in the middle of the mat and starting to undo the buttons of his coat. You stop at the edge of the mat, placing your hands onto your hips after you place the kumpur onto the chair by the mat, which is where you normally sit while he spars with someone else. 

“You should’ve known for months that I’m capable of that. You’ve seen me take down people twice my size,” you reply, your tone becoming exasperated and your arms crossing over your chest now as you stare him down. 

“‘Nough chit-chat. More fighting,” he says as he spins to face you, tossing his coat onto the chair with annoyingly perfect precision. 

“Fine. Have it your way,” you grumble, walking towards him. His smirk only gets bigger as you grow closer. He’s not only happy that you agreed but he’s also glad that he was able to irk you. Maybe that’ll throw you off your game. 

You two start circling each other, both of you studying the other and debating if you should attack first or not. You know Spike is good at defense, so you decide to go on the defensive and let him attack first. And, just like he taught you, you avoid his punch with fluid movements and watch his fist whiz past your face. Your eyes flit to his with a smirk before you’re landing an uppercut to his chin.

He staggers back a step before catching himself, using that momentum to lift his other foot and swing it toward you. You duck under his leg easily but miss the punch he lands on your cheek right after. You grunt and reel back from it, quickly stepping further away when he comes back for another punch with the opposite hand. He tries to land six more punches before you finally go back onto the offensive. You grab ahold of his arm after his last attempt at punching you, tugging him towards your side and using your other arm to jab him in the gut with your elbow. This hit causes him to grunt and fall backward, swaying as he tries to find his footing. 

While he’s caught off guard, you swiftly rush towards him and swipe his feet out from underneath him. He gasps as he flies towards the ground, landing with a loud thud and an even louder grunt. You’re quick to crawl on top of him and pin him down, but he’s not going down that easily. He flips you as soon as you lift one leg to get higher above him, making you gasp when he flips you onto your back. Just like him though, you’re not going down without a fight. 

He smirks down at you as he pins your arms, sweat beading on his forehead. “One...two...” he starts to mockingly count, making you squint your eyes up at him. Before he can get to three though, you lift your hips up and throw him up above your body. He grunts as his face makes impact with the floor, letting go of your wrists to quickly push himself back up onto his hands to regain some balance.

With your arms now free, you wrap your arms around his torso, tucking yourself tight against his chest as you pull yourself up his body a bit, hearing the hammering of his heart for a second. Wrapping your left arm around his right, you tuck the arm into his side, causing him to lose his balance completely. With no arm holding him up, he topples over to his right, letting you use that momentum to roll back on top of him. 

With you in control again, your legs pin his thighs down while your hands hastily pin his down just like how he had done to you. He pants as he stares up at you, the sweat on his forehead sliding back towards his hairline. You smirk when he doesn’t try to throw you off, impressed with that last move you did. He’s never seen something like that before, even after all these years of fighting. 

“I win,” you boast after counting to three, letting go of his wrists and sitting back. You swipe at your forehead when you feel the sweat there threatening to fall down your face, your chest heaving with each breath you take as you try to regain oxygen back into your desperate lungs. Just as you’re about to get off of Spike though, you feel something. It has your body completely freezing as you assess what it is. 

“Is that your gun I’m feeling or are you unusually excited about losing?” you promptly ask, unsure of which one you want it to be. You can feel a newfound heat spreading through your body though, that being a telltale for your brain to know what it wants the answer to be. You blame the fact that you’re up in space and only stop on planets for bounties. No one on this goddamn starship has gotten laid in months because they’ve been so busy. 

“What can I say? I love the kind of woman that can kick my ass.” 

Your jaw drops open a bit at his words, your cheeks getting hotter when you see his eyes are heavy-lidded and clouded with lust. “What?” you breathe, suddenly finding it hard to speak. Instead of verbally replying to you though, he grabs the back of your neck and tugs you down for a kiss. Despite the initial shock of being kissed by the self-proclaimed ‘woman hater,' you quickly melt into the kiss. The kiss is immediately one full of passion, desperation, and need. As you explore the other’s mouth, your teeth clack against each other rather painfully every so often, but neither of you pulls away from the messy kiss, even as drool starts to slide down Spike’s cheek.

It may be messy, but it’s probably the hottest thing you’ve ever experienced. 

Well, that is until he flips you over again just like he had done earlier, and you almost whine when he doesn’t instantly go back to kissing you. He smirks at the wretched look etched across your face, using the back of his hand to wipe the spit off his face as he studies you, almost as if he were trying to figure out just what he should do with you. “Open up,” he suddenly directs, grabbing your cheeks with one hand to hold your face in place for him. Without hesitation you comply, parting your lips eagerly for him, eyes locked on his as you gaze up out from under him. A devilish grin stretches across his face at your willingness to follow his order without question, and he leans down, his face moving to hover over yours. And before you can even realize what he’s doing, he’s spitting into your mouth. 

You make a muffled noise in confusion, trying to process the fact that he had just spat into your mouth, treating you as if you were nothing more than the scum beneath his feet. You know that you should be more than beyond pissed, to push him off of you and storm up right from out of there. And yet despite that, you can’t help the way his downright filthy and untamed behavior manages to turn you on. 

“There. Now we’re even,” he says softly between pants, a devilish smirk on his face. He’s then surging forward, reconnecting your lips with his for another desperate kiss, during which you can’t help but moan between the gasps of air you take. Your noises only grow more frequent and louder in volume as he starts grinding against you teasingly. Though neither of you has removed any clothes, you can still feel just how much he has to offer, and the thought alone excites you. His hands roam your bare thighs, going from there up to your bare midriff. 

“God, you’re so fucking sexy. I’ve wanted to do this ever since your dumbass walked onto the Bebop,” Spike admits through a groan after pulling away from the kiss, letting his head drop forward a bit as he grinds against you harder. 

“Then stop wasting time,” you hiss, spreading your legs further for him. He chuckles lowly and tilts his head to look back up at you, wearing his usual smirk on his lips. 

“Beg for it,” he commands, his voice sounding so deep that it sounds downright sinister, especially with that demand. 

“No,” you grit out, trying to keep your hips from gravitating up towards his warm body to his hard cock that he’s refusing to give you. You weren’t going to stoop that low for him and you decided that you would keep your pride till the very end. He raises a brow at your denial, pulling away to lean back on his knees, looking down at you as his fingers move to knock against your chin to tilt your head up towards him. 

“No? Hm, okay,” he replies all too calmly, making your skin tingle with the possibilities of what he’s planning. You gasp when he unexpectedly forces two fingers past your lips and into your mouth, your moan being stopped by his fingers. His fingers taste salty, like sweat, and despite the fact it’s a little gross, you’re loving it all the same. Your eyes flutter up at him, his watching you with supposed disinterest. 

You know better though. 

You’re able to read him like a book now. His face appears blank and impartial, but it’s the little things that give him away. The way his eyes stare transfixed at how your lips suck him in, the way his chest rises and falls faster and faster each time you rove your tongue against his fingers, the way his pants are getting tighter and his hips jump up slightly anytime you give his digits a harsh suck. He can try all he wants to hide how he’s really feeling, but you know him more than he likes to admit. 

He lets out a groan when you reach up and bring another one of his fingers into your mouth, his head falling back as he thrusts his hips down against yours. You mewl at the friction that’s returned, sucking hard on his fingers and rubbing your tongue against his fingers faster. 

You whimper around his digits when his free hand suddenly comes down and rubs you through your shorts. Your legs part further for him yet again, craving for more of his touch on your throbbing cunt. He chuckles when he sees this, using that hand to slide your shorts down. 

He manically grins when he finds that you’re not wearing panties, his eyes trained on your wet pussy. “No panties, hm?” he teases, starting to stroke his fingers up from your dripping hole to your swollen clit. “You were over here training with no panties on like a true slut, weren’t ya?” he coos, slipping a single finger in. It feels good, but it's nowhere near enough to get you off and he knows that. 

“You sure you don’t wanna beg, baby? This pretty pussy here looks quite desperate for my cock,” he purrs, rubbing his thumb across your clit with his other hand. You shake your head, your breathing starting to become as labored as when you were fighting. “Still no? Alright then.”

He slips his finger out of you as well as removes his thumb from your clit. You whine before you can stop yourself. It doesn’t go unheard. “Last chance, love. Beg for it,” he growls, squinting his eyes down at you. 

“No,” you growl right back, glaring up at him in defiance.

“Fine,” he grunts out. “You can take care of it yourself since you want to act like such a damn brat.” And with that he pulls away from your touch completely, bringing himself back to his feet as he dusts himself off and turns to walk away from your disheveled form on the ground and walking towards the exit.

Another thing that comes with knowing how to read someone like a book is knowing when they’re bluffing right through their teeth to get what they want out of you. So, naturally, you call him out on his bluff. 

Pushing yourself up by your elbows, you smirk back up at him mischievously. “What is it, Spiegel? Trying to run away from a fight that you started with your tail between your legs? Seems a bit cowardly, doncha think?” you taunt. 

And just like that, he’s stopping in his tracks. 

“You really don’t know when to keep that mouth of yours shut, do you?” He replies cooly, swiftly walking back over to you and using his heel to push at your shoulder to force you back to the ground. The force of his actions knocks the wind out of you for a moment, but you’re quick to recover. 

“Ah, but you love this mouth of mine, don’t you? So much so that you’ve been wanting to take me ever since—what was it?—that I walked onto the Bebop? Seems like you like me a bit more than you try to let on,” you reply with a shit-eating grin. He huffs and shoves his foot off of you before standing in a lazy stance in front of you, his shoulders slouched as he pockets his hands. 

“I’m not gonna help you get you off anymore if that’s what you’re going for,” he says lowly, trying to act as if he’s unbothered by it all. You clench your jaw at his words despite knowing that he wants nothing more than to jump your bones right now. He’s just too stubborn to admit it and to give in to his desires. Well, two can play at that game. You’re just as stubborn as he is, if not more so. 

“Fine. Feel free to see yourself out then,” you sass, spreading your legs to show your naked core. His eyes immediately flicker down to your drooling cunt, his tongue coming out to wet his lips. Your own lips quirk up into a smirk, your hand lowering down to your heat with a hum. Once your hand starts to flick your swollen clit, your clenching hole oozes more of your arousal. “Ah, fuck,” you moan dramatically, wanting to egg Spike on further. You watch his hands clench by his side, his jaw clamping shut as he tries to convince himself to walk away to win this fight. 

“Will you cut it out? Jet or Faye could walk in at any minute!” he hisses, going as far as to kick his foot out to lightly nudge you. 

“Yeah? How come it was okay for you to do this to me, but now it’s a problem? Hm?” you start, dipping two of your fingers into your hole with a pornographic moan. “Scared they might see what you think is yours? Hm? You think Jet or Faye wants to touch me this way? Wh-” 

Before you can even blink, he’s hovering over you again with one hand tugging your fingers out of your squelching hole while the other is pulling your hair harshly. You let out a groan of pain, your eyes rolling back into your head for a moment.

“Listen here, slut. This pussy is mine and if you even think for a goddamn second that I would let them-” He stops talking when you start giggling, causing his face to only scrunch up further in anger. He realizes then that you were just egging him on, trying to get him to snap and spill the truth. “You’re going to wish you had just begged,” he says in between staggered breaths, his body becoming an inferno with newfound heat and lust. 

“Challenge accepted,” you breathe out before his lips crash against yours. His teeth gnaw at your lip and he forces his tongue into your mouth, his fingers hooking inside of your cunt to hit that spongey spot every single time. You moan into the kiss, your hips thrusting up a bit to meet his fingers’ thrust. 

And only a few minutes later, you’re cumming. Jesus, he really knows what he’s doing with those fingers. You pull away from the kiss, whining when he continues to finger fuck you. “Spike,” you stutter out, grabbing his wrist to try and get him to stop or at least slow down. 

“What?” he growls, his eyes watching as he continues to finger-bang you. 

“I’m sensitive, stop,” you whine. You and he know good and well that if you really wanted him to stop, you could force him to stop. You like that you have no control over him though, no control over your own body. 

“Cry about it,” he bites back, glaring down a you. You groan as he continues to use his fingers on you, trying to draw another orgasm out of you. Your eyes roll back into your head, your legs clamping down around his arm to yet again try to stop him. 

You see your mistake now. Maybe you really should have just asked nicely for his cock. Because now, he’s just going to keep making you cum in any and every way he knows how until he’s satisfied. 

When you start getting close to your second orgasm, you look up at him again to find him evilly grinning down at you. “Yeah, take it like the slut you are,” he coos, moving his fingers deeper inside of you. You cry out as your orgasm slams into you, your body quaking beneath him. 

You gasp in relief when he rips his fingers out of you, watching as he stares at his fingers in mock disgust as he makes a scissoring motion in the air. “You’re fucking soaked…” he comments, seemingly more so to himself than to you as he watches your cum stick to his fingers as he pulls them apart before pushing them back together to repeat the action. 

His eyes suddenly flicker to you, a sadistic smile on his face. “Ready for the real thing, slut?” he taunts as he unzips his pants and pulls his dick out. Your eyes shift down and bulge at the sight of it. His cock is veiny and sits heavy in his hand, the tip reaching way past where he holds it at the base. His eyes are lidded as he swipes the head through your cum that’s still dribbling out of your cunt. 

“Be a good girl and take it,” he whispers just before pushing it into the base. 

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MASTERLIST

More with Spike Spiegel

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⊱ ────── {⋅. ☆ .⋅} ────── ⊰

[shiftingparadise]

Yuji x Reader: You're staying

Hi guys, this one's about Yuji taking care of you when you're drunk. All characters are grown up. Enjoy reading 🤍✨

Warnings: none it's just fluffy and Yuji's really sweet <3

Word count: 2623

“Are you serious?”, Yuji’s sighed. “Yeah. She needs to go. She can barely stand”, Nobara turned her phone away from you, “But she doesn’t want to leave. You’ll probably need to drag her out of here”. “Don’t worry. I’m on my way”, Yuji put down his phone before starting his car. 

—-

“Let’s see who’ll give up first”, you smirked as you took another shot. “Oh? You sure you want to do this with me?”, the man smiled. 

God, Yuji couldn’t take this. You were drunk and flirting with a random guy who probably wanted nothing more than to take advantage of you. And why were you wearing that dress? Your breasts were practically falling out of the thin fabric… 

“Enough”, Yuji angrily grabbed your glass. “What’s wrong?”, the man grabbed his shoulder, “I’m sure she can take care of herself”. 

If you weren't struggling to stand, Yuji would have punched that idiot in the face, but you were his priority now. He just needed you to be safe.

“She obviously can’t. You realize this man is twice your age, right?”, Yuji’s eyes never left you. “F-fuck off Yuji”, you drunkenly hiccuped, “T-toji’s really nice and kind”. “Are you really that stupid? You know damn well what he’s after”. “So? I-it’s none of your business!”, you pushed him away. “I think it’s best if you leave”, an awful smirk on the man’s face, “She’s a grown woman”. 

Fuck, you could be so frustrating sometimes. He just wanted you to be safe. Was it that hard for you to see? 

“Fine”, he chuckled, “Have fun with that idiot over here”. The man stayed quiet, a defiant look in his eyes before he pulled you behind him. “Who is that kid? Is he your boyfriend or something?”. “No, of course not!”, you pulled a disgusted face as Yuji walked to Nobara. She’d been watching everything from a distance. 

His heart ached a little at your remark. Would it be so bad if he was your boyfriend? Would you rather have strange men groping-

“Shit”, Nobara sighed as she pinched the space between her brows. “What?”, Yuji angrily followed her gaze. He could see the man’s hand gliding down to your ass, softly pinching the soft flesh before he decided to leave it there.

This wasn’t going to happen. You were leaving, right this second. 

“Fuck Y/N!”, Yuji angrily pulled you toward him, “You’re coming with me”. “She doesn’t want to leave, right sweetheart?”. “Don’t you dare touch her again”, Yuji balled his fists. He didn’t care if he was going to get kicked out. He wasn’t leaving you here with that pervert. “Y-yuji!”, you tried to stand up straight but the booze had made your brain foggy. “Shut up”, he swooped his arm behind your knees as he lifted you from the ground. “Leave her”, the stranger grabbed Yuji’s shoulder again. 

Okay. This was it. He was going to punch that idiot. 

However, Nobara had done the sensible thing and informed the bouncer of your little dispute. “Is there a problem?”. “That pervert here is groping on her body while she’s clearly drunk”, Yuji held you close to him, ignoring your drunken pleas to stay. The bouncer looked at Toji before turning back to Yuji, “She’s your friend?”. “Hm”, he held you even closer. “Think it’s best if he takes her home”, the bouncer looked at the older man. “Whatever”, Toji smirked, “Enough chicks in here anyway”. “Nobara, you staying?”, Yuji tried his hardest to ignore the stranger. “Yeah, called Maki. She’s coming”. “M-maki? N-now I want to stay too!!!”, you dropped your head, looking at the world upside down.

Yuji gritted his teeth in response. How could you be so reckless? You told him you weren’t going to get drunk. It was supposed to be a fun night with your friends, but you had to overdo it. 

“Happy now?”, the pink-haired boy gently fastened your seatbelt. “Nobara’s worried sick about you”. “S-she’s boring”, a drunken hiccup. “No. She knows when she’s had enough. Unlike you”. “H-hey! L-let me out! I want to go back!”, you tried to open your door. “You’re not going anywhere”, he started his car, “Just close your eyes or something”. 

The drive home didn’t go smoothly. No. You had to keep complaining. Saying he’d kidnapped you, yelling at him, telling him that it wasn’t his business… 

“H-hey this isn’t my place! I-it’s yours!”, you folded your arms, making it even harder for your friend to get you out of his car. “You’re not sleeping alone”. “Exactly! I’m calling t-that guy from the bar-“. 

Yuji had been patient with you, despite your accusations, but he’d had enough. 

“Enough”, he roughly picked you up, carrying you inside. “You’re staying here, got it?”, he tried to be as kind as possible while laying you down on his bed, but your kicking and scolding made such a simple task impossible. 

He’d never seen you like this. Sure, you were always a pain in the ass when you were drunk, but not like this. You were always kind to him, maybe even more than when you were sober. 

“Fuck Y/N. Can’t you see I’m just trying to help you? Why are you acting like this?”, his eyes round in surprise. “Because you kidnapped me! It’s none of your business who I sleep with and-“. “Sleep with?”, a soft chuckle, “You really wanted to sleep with that guy?”. “So? He was handsome-“. “Handsome? Is that all it takes for you to open your legs?”. 

He was harsh. Too harsh. It wasn’t his place to say something like that, but... Well, to be honest... He did have a little crush on you. Okay, not just a little, and even though it was hard to admit, it hurt when you said something like that. 

“Get out”, you almost whispered. He knew he fucked up when he noticed the shift in your tone. “I didn’t mean it like that”, his voice soft now. “Get out Yuji”, a last warning. “Fine”, he clenched his jaw, “Pretend I’m the bad guy for keeping you safe”. “Safe? You just ruined my entire night!”. “I’m sorry that I fucked up your one-night stand. How could I be so rude?”, he sarcastically replied. “You know that guy was at least 40, right? He could’ve drugged you, hurt you, done all kinds of things with you-“. “Just leave me alone!”, drunken tears now streaming down your cheek, “I hate you. I hate you. I hate you”. 

“Hate?”, he smacked his lips as his heart shattered. 

“You always do this. You always ruin my chances with everyone. Why? Why do you do that?”. 

T-that wasn’t right. He never… But he did, didn’t he? Every time you went out. Every time he saw you were clinging onto a boy’s arm, every time you looked at a boy with something more in your eyes… He always swooped in, pretending to save you, but you were a grown woman, and he was only your friend. 

“I never meant to-“. “You know?”, you interrupted him, “If you had the balls to ask me out, I probably would’ve said yes. In fact-“, you sat up straight before continuing. “I’ve waited for months but you never asked me and it’s fine, you know? You don’t have to ask me out, but you can’t just ruin everything else for me”. 

Yuji could do nothing but watch as tears kept rolling down your cheek onto his sheets. 

“When have I ever done the same? I’ve watched how you’ve kissed random girls in the club, or when you’re out on another date… And I’ve never complained, not once, because I want you to be happy”. “B-but that guy was a pervert-“, he tried to intervene. “B-but but but”, you angrily raised your voice, “There’s always an excuse”.

What were you even telling him right now? That you feel the same? 

“Y/N-“, he tried to come closer. “No, stay away!”, you angrily threw your heels toward him. 

God, he hated this. This was the last thing he wanted. 

“Fine”, he raised his hands, “Just let me know if there’s anything you need, okay?”. 

He waited for a response but when he realized he wasn’t getting one, he just left. It was needless to say that he couldn’t find sleep. He tried over and over again to understand what just happened, but he couldn’t wrap his mind around your behavior. 

“I fucked up, didn’t I?”, he murmured to himself before he sat down on his couch. 

He wasn’t a bad guy. At least, that’s what he thought but when he saw you like that… The way you cried, the hate in your eyes… It’s true, he never asked you out but that was because he never thought you’d like him back. He wasn’t your type. You always used to whisper to Nobara how much you adored Megumi, how cute he was, and how much you liked him… He always thought you liked his best friend instead of him.

“4 AM?”, Yuji’s heart sank to his stomach. He was worried about you. 

One look wouldn’t hurt. Just to make sure you were safe and sound. What if you had thrown up? That was dangerous, right? Yes. Just one quick look into his room just to be sure.

He opened his door as gently as possible. The last thing he wanted to do was wake you up. “Y/N?”, his heart shattered as he could hear your silent sobs. 

Were you still awake?

“Y/N?”, he repeated at a lack of response. “W-what?”, you softly replied. “Why are you crying? Is everything alright?”. “I’m not crying. I’m fine”, you lied as you pulled the sheets closer to your face. All in a futile attempt to hide your tears. “You’re not”, Yuji softly sat down beside you, one hand resting on your waist as he signaled you to roll over. “What’s wrong?”, he gently pulled the sheets away from your face as he hovered over you. “I just don’t get it”, you rolled over, your face now buried into his lap. “What?”. “Why haven’t you asked me out? Is something wrong with me? Am I not pretty enough? Not smart enough? What have I done wrong?”. 

He stayed quiet for a bit. He didn’t want to say something to upset you, but he wasn’t sure this was a conversation to be held right now. You were obviously still drunk. 

“You can’t even answer”, you broke down again. “N-no”, he awkwardly placed his arm around you, “I like you, you know that”. 

“Just as a friend?”. 

A sudden panic rose to his head. You wouldn’t ask something like this when you were sober. 

“Not exactly”, he awkwardly shifted his back. “S-so more than a friend?”, your sobs suddenly stopped. “Y/N-“, he tried to change the topic of the conversation but you wouldn’t let him. “Yes or no?”. “Yes”, he shyly replied, his gaze fixed on his window. “Then why haven’t you asked me out?”. “Because I thought you liked Fushigoro”. “Megumi?”, your brows pulled together. “Yeah”, he massaged the back of his neck. “N-no he’s like a brother to me”, you looked up at Yuji. Even in the darkness of the night seemed his eyes to shine. He always had this spark to him, something he never lost. “Look, we’ll talk about this in the morning. When you’re sober and-“, his heart stopped when he felt your soft hand on his wrist. “Y/N?”, he nervously chuckled as his cheeks reddened. 

He normally wasn’t this flustered. He could pick up girls and rarely failed to do so if he wanted, but you were different. He cared about you. Somehow you made him feel a little lost. 

“I never wanted to go with that guy”, your voice steady, “I wanted Nobara to call you”. “Huh?”, he knitted his brows in confusion. “I wanted to see you, to make you jealous”, your cheeks now cherry red. “But-“. “I’m in love with you, okay?”, you finally raised your eyes. 

God, he tried to process what you told him, to figure this all out but… 

“Fine”, you clenched your jaw, “If you’re not going to do it…”. “W-what?”. 

He didn’t like this. The way his heart fluttered, the way his face felt like it was on fire… 

His eyes went round as your hands cupped his cheeks, your lips suddenly on his. 

This wasn’t right. He was supposed to kiss you, not the other way around… He didn’t want you to feel unsure, to think he didn’t want this.

So, without thinking twice, he let his hands explore your body. As gentle and careful as possible, of course. He wasn’t a savage. He respected you. His digits exploring the fabric of your little, black dress… Only slowing down when he felt your bare skin. 

Yes. He wanted more. So much more. Especially when you sat up a little straighter, your arms wrapped around his neck, singing cute, whimpering noises into his ear… He knew you wanted more too. You made it so clear when you guided his hands to your curves… 

“Slow down”, he sweetly smiled. “W-why?”, you sounded out of breath. “Because we’re not going to take this further. Not now”. “You don’t think I’m pretty enough?”, your eyes suddenly hanging low. “Are you crazy?”, he cupped your cheeks, forcing you to look into his eyes. “You’re more than perfect but I respect you too much. We’re not doing this when you’re drunk”. “B-but I’m not drunk anymore!”, you protested. “Not as drunk”, Yuji corrected you. “Look, just get out of your dress. You can sleep in my shirt”. “But Yuji-“. “I’m serious”, his tone a bit harsher than usual. “You need to get some rest. Come here”. 

He gently picked you up as he walked to his bathroom. 

“Here, you can brush your teeth”, he grabbed a new toothbrush from his cabin. “Thanks Yuji”. “And here”, he happily handed you one of his shirts, “Call me if you need anything”. 

He waited patiently for you as he put on shorts and a shirt to sleep in. Yuji made sure your dress and shoes were neatly tucked away in his closet as he laid out a sweatshirt for you to wear in the morning. It tended to get a little cold in his apartment at this time of the year and -

His thoughts stopped as you suddenly stood before him, looking way too cute in his shirt. “Thanks”, you sweetly smiled as you noticed he’d neatly tucked your belongings in his closet.

His shirt was way too big, and it didn’t fit you at all. Yet, it somehow fitted you better than anyone else. His shirt had never looked so good on someone, not even on himself. 

“D-don’t worry”, a nervous chuckle. “Night Yuji”, you gently kissed his cheek before crawling under his sheets. “Goodnight”, he tried to take his eyes away from you but failed to do so. “What are you waiting for?”, one of the sweetest whispers he’d ever heard. “Huh?”. “Come here, silly”, you opened the sheets as you made room for him. “I-I already told you-“. “I just want to cuddle”, you giggled. “O-oh right”, he nervously scratched the back of his neck. 

Your body felt so warm, so soft, so … God, you were driving him crazy. You fitted perfectly into his arms. 

“Night, Itadori”. “Itadori?”, he murmured as his nose was already pressed into your hair; taking in your sweet scent. 

You never called him by his first name; no one did. 

“Don’t want to be like anyone else anymore”, you shuffled even closer. “You never were”, he tightened his grip around your waist, “You’ve always been special to me”.