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silverzoomies · 11 months

Text

Venti Iced White Mocha

kai anderson x reader smut

warnings: rivals with benefits, shameless smut, shower sex, rough sex, cunnilingus, ass to mouth (sorry), degredation (sorry), female reader (sorry lol), kai anderson is his own warning

word count: 5,177

a/n: i should preface this by apologizing. i'm not sure if the person who initially requested shower sex with kai wanted something quite like this. this is a goddamn shitshow !! i'm really sorry !! reader's kind of an overconfident bitch here, so apologies for that too. i wanted to make her as exaggerated as the girls were in the show, yk?

and apologies if none of this makes any sense. as usual, my writing's pretty clunky and all over the place. ksjhgkdsjhgkjdsg

taglist: @dewberryobssesed @violetharmonscupcake @kaismanwich @jellyluvr @icannot3 @taintandviolent @ahoyladiesz

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During every one of his speeches as a respected city councilman; Kai knew, inevitably, he’d see you there.

As he stood at the mic, singing divine words of a new-age revolution. You would always come parading by, ranting and raving your delusions of feminist grandeur. Waving your decorative, neon, picket signs (aesthetics inspired by your nightly pinterest browsing); you would protest Kai’s holy praises of liberation. Overshadowing his words with your fake news and sacrilegious falsehoods.

Kai despised you. And desperately, he wanted to see your head on a pike.

In truth, however, he admired your tenacity.

You were such a brave soul, to stand up and fight. To speak your naive, girlish truths with such passion. Even despite the horror you continuously witnessed at Kai’s rallies. So many of his speeches ended in violence and bloodshed. Still, you protested anyway. You did all you could to pull the people’s attention away from Kai. And instead, you directed them to your obscene, ignorant ramblings.

Even Kai himself couldn’t deny it. You had guts, you had heart, and most importantly, you had stubborn determination.

One day, Kai decided to be the better man. Because at his core, he was always the better man.

If you weren’t going to cease your protests, then he’d be the one to step in and make peace. In spite of your obvious, unwarranted hatred towards the opposite sex. Kai approached you at the end of another rally, offering politely to buy you a coffee.

He figured you liked coffee. At least, you were definitely the type who appreciated a girly, sugarbomb of a drink every once in a while.

Or every day, probably. Didn’t every basic, women's studies bitch live off that shit?

Kai took it upon himself to purchase for you a venti, iced, white chocolate mocha (shots of blonde espresso, two pumps white chocolate, cup lined with caramel, no whip, vanilla sweet cream cold foam, a little extra caramel drizzle). Just to mock you a little bit, maybe. Not like you were perceptive enough to catch on.

Surely, such a #slay-queen’s dream of a drink would satisfy you long enough, that Kai could engage you in civil conversation. And after a long, tension heavy, passive aggressive discussion about…he couldn’t remember what, really. Somehow, Kai’s meeting with you ended in sex.

The roughest and nastiest of hateful, rivalry sex. In the back of your 2013 Kia Sportage. The kind of car that screamed, 'I need protection from big, scary men.'

Kai barely took initiative. Because you were the one to grab the reins and lead him to victory. You forced him down with your palms to his broad chest. And spitting off insult after insult, criticizing his worth as a politician; you rode Kai’s dick to kingdom come. Euphemism implied.

Of course, he should’ve expected such an outcome. Especially from a depraved, rageful animal like you.

Kai could recall, in his hazy, adderall-fueled memory, two more instances wherein the both of you cracked. Engaging in sinful, filthy acts of sexual intimacy. Sweaty, unforgiving, and fueled with unbridled loathing for the opposite sex. Not his fault you wanted his dick so bad. Behind closed doors, you practically worshiped the musky, masculine power of his cock.

He couldn’t get you out of his mind. Only because you refused to see his side of things, obviously.

Whenever Kai met with you, he always tried to explain his perspective. He shared his ideas, and mentioned the changes he wished to see in the world. And you did nothing but laugh every time. Constantly, you insisted his obsession with the instinctive fears of humans would lead him nowhere.

“If you continue to play into civilian terror, you’ll never be an ideal leader, Anderson.” You said, sipping another, venti, iced, white chocolate mocha he bought for you. Out of the generosity of his heart.

Your lipstick left behind traces of color on the straw. And Kai thought vividly about what that same color would look like, wrapped in a vibrant ring around his cock. As he crammed his dick so far down your throat, you’d feel the imprint of his bulbous head for weeks.

“Oh, and b-t-dubs? Breeding more violence in this city is only gonna end in misery for you. Just so you know.” You added with a sassy, overconfident wave of your hand.

Sharp, finely manicured nails decorated your fingers, painted in one of your favorite colors. Kai wanted to feel you rake those nails sharply down his back. All while he drilled your sweet pussy so violently, you’d be fucked speechless.

You also mentioned that, if Kai managed to somehow, in some way succeed; the women of the world would continue to suffer in silence. Because they were your main concern. Always your number one concern. Never the liberation of every person, be they male, female, or attack helicopter. But women, and women only.

Tsk. Tsk. Tsk.

You needed a harsh reality check.

Naturally, Kai figured, if he scared the ever-loving shit out of you? You’d finally listen to reason.

If Kai broke into your apartment one night in an adderall-induced high, wearing his signature clown ensemble. And if he spray painted your walls with an emblematic symbol. A subtle, little warning to instill paranoia and fear. A warning that you’d been marked by the city’s most dangerous murderers. Maybe then, at long last, you’d see the light.

Kai could finally welcome you into the fold, as part of his movement. And he could use your strengths (your insufferable stubbornness) to his advantage. While he also fucked you brainless, turning you into his little breeding tool.

Maybe.

He’d have to think it over. Give it a few business days.

Once he broke into your apartment, Kai didn’t expect to find you in the shower. But of course, that’s where you were. The instant he overheard the faint sound of the water running, he was caught off guard. Underneath the thick rubber of his clown mask, Kai heaved hot breaths. Trudging through the hall of your apartment, he found the cracked door to your bathroom. Steam trickled out from inside, and Kai placed a gloved hand on the door. Carefully, he pushed it open, listening as you sang a womanly ballad to yourself.

Professing your raw power, as a single lady who had her heart broken one, too many times.

He almost felt sorry for you.

Kai thought you’d make for a good wife…if you weren’t such a fucking bitch all the time. But then again, maybe, he could be your saving grace. The one to teach you some proper discipline. Call it divine intervention.

Stepping over the damp, tiled floor in heavy boots, Kai carried a sharp knife in one hand. The serrated blade gleamed in the light, and a trickle of dried blood stained its edge. Kai stopped in his tracks to cast a glance over your bathroom sink. He peered through the obscuring eyes of his mask, analyzing every skin-care product and expensive cosmetic on the countertop.

Truly a shame, the way you felt the need to cake your face in heavy make-up. No doubt, you looked pretty enough without it. Who were you even trying to impress?

Approaching the shower itself, Kai gazed upon the sparkly, pink curtains keeping you shrouded. He could see you then. Or rather, the curvaceous shadow of your womanly figure. You twirled and swayed, running your hands down your body. His eyes followed your movements, watching carefully as you soaped every inch of your soft skin.

Kai’s breath hitched under his mask. And to his own dismay, he realized, he was quickly falling victim to your voluptuous wiles. His girthy dick twitched to hardness, his balls hanging heavy between his legs. Ready to empty gushes of hot seed inside that fertile body.

He’d felt your angelic body before.

Kai had touched you in such lustful, degrading ways; he left you a shivering mess. He’d fucked you so brutally, you were reduced to nothing but an empty-headed bimbo afterwards. And knowing already what it was like to be inside you, he shouldn’t have reacted so strongly. Not after bearing witness to something as simple as your shadow. But he did. His cock was rock hard, aching desperately for the clench of your needy pussy again.

He couldn’t help but imagine what your alluring figure must look like right now. Sparkling with humid droplets of water, and clouded in a haze of hot steam. A subconscious part of him longed to hear the hateful, degrading things you’d say. If Kai, a raging chauvinist, dared to put his hands on you again.

Biting his tongue hard enough to draw blood, Kai found himself distracted. And for a humiliatingly long time, he remained frozen in place. He stood, staring ahead at the curtain through his mask. Perhaps he took more than his usual dosage of adderall (which was already ten thousand leagues beyond the recommended dose), leaving him zooted as all fucking hell. Because the moment you curiously pulled the sparkly curtain aside, Kai failed to react.

As expected, you screamed. Like a classic horror film’s final girl, you shrieked with ear-splitting power. Should you ever become a member of his loyal crew, Kai decided then; he’d dub you ‘Scream Queen.’

You reared a hand back, and Kai dropped the blade he’d been holding. It fell to the wet floor with a sharp clatter, etching scratches into the tile below. Kai moved to defend himself, but you were too quick. A forceful slap landed hard against the rubber mask covering his face. Not strong enough to do any real harm, but quite the shock nonetheless.

Kai should’ve assumed you were going to fight back. You were always such a fighter.

Odd…he was really off his game tonight.

His guiding light, the great spirit Manson would probably be sorely disappointed in his carelessness. And Manson would be even more dissatisfied, that Kai let an indignant female throw him so far off course. What the fuck was he supposed to do now? Wing it?? He could barely think with a clear head!

Kai reached for your wrist, scrambling to grab it with a large, gloved hand. Seconds later, he somehow stumbled into your shower. And though you fought with all your might to shove him away, Kai held his ground. He proved far too strong for you, but you never gave in. You kicked and screamed in a fuming rampage. Such a stubborn, little fighter.

In a rather hasty, last minute decision; Kai reached up to pull his mask off. A mop of faded, blue hair dangled in his face. He stood under the trickling rain of the shower, in his all black outfit, thick coat, and heavy boots. For a split-second, you furrowed your brows. And you looked at Kai in a furious rage of confusion. He kept you pinned against the wall, with your wet, naked body vulnerable and completely open to him.

And Kai wanted nothing more than to claim your freshly showered pussy for himself.

“ANDERSON!?” You shrieked, your voice full of blinding, hot anger. And Kai winced at the sound, “The fuck do you think you’re-...OHMYGOD! You’re-...are you the fucking killer?? Of course you are! I should’ve known! You creep! You’re the mastermind behind it all! How the fuck could you-”

Rolling his eyes, Kai forcefully covered your mouth with a hand. He leaned in, paying no mind to the drizzle of scalding water soaking his blue locks. Droplets poured in thin, glistening streaks down his face. And he stared deep into your eyes with an unamused, soulless gaze.

“Shut the fuck up. Now.” He whispered in uncanny monotone, “I’m not the killer, and I’m not here to kill you, okay? Just stop fucking yelling.” Kai sighed, shaking his head, “And even if I was the killer? Don’t you think it’d be unwise to disrespect me like that?”

Showing you mercy, like the generous man he was, Kai lowered his hand from your mouth.

And instantly, he regretted such a gracious decision. Because apparently, you didn’t know when to shut the fuck up.

“Oh, bullshit!” You spat back, smacking a hand across his chest.

The defensive gesture sent a spark of hot rage flaring through Kai’s blood. But he swallowed down his anger, choosing to remain calm. He clenched a fist tightly at his side.

Be the better man. You're always the better man.

“Be honest! You’ve wanted me dead ever since I started protesting at your rallies! You just can’t fucking stand to see a woman steal your precious spotlight, can you?” You argued.

Fighting to free yourself from Kai’s hold, you pressed your damp, nude body against his. Ultimately, you failed to push him. Kai’s strength made him quite the immovable wall of muscle. But in your struggle, your bare thigh brushed against his crotch. Nudging the prominent bulge in his pants.

And Kai instinctively hissed. Fuck.

“Wait…” You breathed a snide laugh, “Oh my god…no fucking way! I get it now!” Taunting Kai, you angled your knee. And you gently applied pressure to his raging hard-on, “You men are all the fucking same! Goddamn incels! Every single one of you wants one thing! You only changed your mind about killing me because you wanna fuck me, is that it?”

Huffing an animalistic breath through his nose, Kai nearly lost himself in a wrathful frenzy. One of his big hands darted to your throat, wrapping a palm around it tightly. He squeezed it with a firm press of his thumb, keeping his other hand flat on the wet wall beside you. An endless spray of hot water showered over the two of you. And Kai stared daggers into your eyes, his inky, black gaze unblinking.

“Maybe I should fucking kill you, hmm?” He snarled, “You’ve been nothing but a pain in my ass since I became councilman. What do you think? If I choked you like this, and watched the light in your eyes fade to black? Do you think that’d finally fucking silence you?”

Gasping a deep, ragged breath, you shook your head wildly.

“You wouldn’t, though.” You choked. And when Kai showed you mercy once more, loosening his grasp by a touch; you had the gall to giggle, “So, what? Are you just humiliated? Awww…too bad your boner distracted you from cutting my thr-”

Livid and raving mad, Kai felt his blood boil to a scorching heat. He squeezed your throat in a more life-threatening grip. And instinctively, you brought your hands up to weakly claw at his glove. The thick, steamy heat of the shower stifled you. In Kai’s dangerously tight hold, you couldn’t catch your breath. Lightheadedness quickly swarmed your body, leaving you paralyzed.

“Better watch your fucking mouth, you little whore.” Kai spat, leaning in a bit too close, “As I’m sure you already know, there is nothing in this world more dangerous than a humiliated man.”

The tip of Kai’s nose brushed yours, and he found himself mesmerized by the fear in your eyes. Genuine terror overwhelmed your once confident gaze. And Kai’s angry frown slowly formed into a wicked, knowing smirk.

Finally, he unearthed it. The real, instinctive, human fear buried inside you. It radiated like an aura of pure panic, seeping through your every pore. In the face of death, you were just like everybody else. Confidence lost.

A vulnerable, helpless, little thing.

Kai wanted to keep you, to drag you kicking and screaming back home and into his basement. He imagined himself pulling you to the table under harsh, lamp light. There, he would lead you straight into a session of pinky power. Total honesty, an entirely different form of intimacy. Under the lock of his pinky, he’d knit and weave you to his heart’s content. Tempting you to confess every corrupt secret you kept contained. All for him.

Such a thought fueled him with buzzing anticipation. But if Kai was to tempt you into following his guidance, he needed to reel you in somehow. And he couldn’t do that, if he choked you to death in a rage of testosterone.

Standing under the shower’s humid downpower in his soaked clothes, Kai made another rash, reckless decision. Always thinking two steps behind, when everyone assumed he thought two steps ahead. He darted forward, kissing you hard against the wall. Releasing his hold on your throat, Kai let his gloved thumbs gently graze the skin of your neck. A wordless apology. Before he trailed his hands down your body, roughly squeezing your wet flesh.

If he was going to lure you into his trap and claim you as his own; he needed to find a balance. Equal justice, between showing you respect, and treating you like the lesser being you were. You seemed to appreciate a little of both, he noted.

When he parted his lips from yours for a second, you gasped for air. Choking on thick, humid steam, you braced your small hands on Kai’s shoulders.

"What the fuck?!" You breathed raggedly, digging your nails into the wet, ruined leather of his coat.

For a moment, he expected you to fight back again. Kai assumed you would lash out, and threaten him for nearly rendering you unconscious. But you merely inched your wet, naked body closer to his clothed one.

"Whatever. See what I mean? ...You're dangerous, but...I knew you wouldn't kill me..." You hummed.

No way you knew. You were only feigning confidence.

The momentary fear Kai once saw in your eyes dissipated, flooding over with carnal desire. And you proved once more, just how sick and twisted in the head you really were. With your lucious, damp body pressed against his, you dragged your nails over the lapels of Kai's coat.

"I'm not scared of you, mister big, bad councilman."

Yes. A perfect edition to his movement.

“Oh, and if you try something like that again, Anderson? I’ll make sure you end up rotting in a prison cell somewhere.” You mumbled with a bite in your tone, fearlessly kissing Kai once more.

“Mhmmm…you know…” Kai groaned softly into your plush lips, his motions sloppy and careless. Careless because of the drugs, maybe. Good ol’ vitamin A, “You say we men are all the same…but what I find fascinating is that-”

Interrupting Kai, you kissed him with venomous, filthy movements of your tongue. And despite your earlier protests, Kai knew you wanted him. He could sense it through the tension in the air.

Too eagerly, did you reach out. Only to help shed his soaked, wet coat. His black t-shirt was sticky against his body, highlighting his muscles. And you dragged your hands down his chest, brushing your fingertips over his nipples. Pulling the fabric of his wet shirt from over his abs, you assisted in removing the garment completely. All while Kai passionately kissed you.

“Mmmmm…I find it fascinating that all women, in their darkest fantasies, dream of this exact scenario…” Kai whispered with a swipe of his tongue against yours.

Under the rain of the shower, Kai stood before you, in nothing but his pants and boots. And as he raised his hands to remove his gloves, you quickly protested.

“Wait-” You threw a hand out to stop him. Just as Kai’s prominent, front teeth pulled at the fabric of his glove, you spoke, “Keep ‘em on…they feel soooooooo good on my body…” You added in a sultry tone, pressing your supple tits together with your hands.

Kai’s dark, beady gaze dropped to your breasts. He became entranced in the droplets of water streaming down your soft skin, running over your nipples. Bringing his gloved hands down to squeeze your tits in his palms, Kai continued on with his senseless observations.

“As I was saying…and please, stop interrupting me-” He pinched your nipples hard, the rough texture of his gloves providing a pleasant sensation around the perky buds. And you squeaked a precious sound, “You all dream of the same thing. A masculine stranger. A home invader…who breaks into your place of rest. One who finds you in a vulnerable position such as this…” He said, as he came forward to kiss his way down your tits.

Kai licked up a stream of water leaking down your breast, letting his tongue press flat against your nipple. Pulling away from your chest, he guided his fingers down your tummy.

“...Maybe he broke in to steal some money or jewelry. Or, maybe he did so to commit an act of violence. Whatever the reason, it’s not important. What is important…”

Kai’s fingers moved even further down, stopping only after reaching the awaiting lips of your pussy. And you grinned, nudging your hips into the leather of his gloved hand. So responsive.

“...is that he, in his desperation for female companionship, finds he can’t resist the allure of your womanly wiles. And once he sees you…so desirable and unguarded…he knows…he must claim you for himself. That is every woman’s dream. Whether she cares to admit it or not. You all thirst for domination.”

During Kai’s rambling, you focused on undoing his pants. You were a mere second away from pulling Kai’s weighty cock free from its confines. But before you could, he abruptly grabbed your hips in a rough hold. Kai forcefully flipped you around, pressing your dripping, wet body into the damp wall. And the heat permeating in the air made your skin feel sticky against it.

“Hey! You fucking pig! What are you-” You protested, though Kai could hear the undeniable thirst in your voice. He smirked impishly to himself, ignorning your insults.

Kai gave you no preparation, as he forced the entire length of his thick cock through your cunt. Feeling those smooth, wet walls made just for him. He buried his dick in deep, bottoming out with a bruising thrust of his hips. The motion rocked you hard into the wall, and your throat erupted in an onslaught of strangled moans. You felt your nipples slide along the slippery surface of the wall, and you squirmed in place.

“Oh fuCK~!” You cried in a squeal, bracing your hands on the wall, “Y-You’re so fucking sick, Kai! You know that? You think you know what I want? You think you know what women want??” You scoffed, and Kai reared his hips back.

Another, violent thrust drove his hot length deep inside you, ripping you open wide. And you nibbled your lip, swallowing down another moan.

“Y-You really don’t! No…I think this is everything you want.” You wiggled your hips, allowing your cunt to swallow Kai’s cock that much deeper, “You fucking love it, don’t you? You’re addicted to this kind of power. The power you have over me. Over everyone. You get so high off it. I-It’s like a drug…like your adderall…”

Angling your torso, you turned your head to look at Kai. And through a lidded, erotic gaze, you grinned. Kai’s eyes were wide open and wild, blazing with a wildfire of drug-induced delusion. You dared to chance another snide laugh at his expense, and it filled him with passionate wrath.

“You’re hopped up on that shit right now, aren’t you? I can tell…you-OH~!!”

Kai cut you off, shutting you up with another, vigorous thrust of his hips.

“Shut. The fuck. Up.” He growled, pounding his heavy length into your cunt. His pelvis met your ass at the end of each word. Just for emphasis, to really hammer it in.

He loathed you so much, but desired you so desperately it was infuriating.

Kai brought a strong hand down to smack you hard on the ass. And the rough feel of his glove sent sparks of hot, electric pleasure surging through your veins. You giggled and squeaked, as the soft plush of your ass cheeks bounced into Kai’s pelvis. Jiggling against the fabric of his pants. Kai smacked your ass in rapid succession, just a few more times for good measure. You had to know your place.

“Disobedient brat. You think you’re allowed to disrespect me? Me??” Kai angrily spat, all while worshiping the cheeks of your ass. He grabbed handfuls, palming them roughly as he fucked you, “You’re deluded in that empty-headed brain of yours. If you think I wanted to waste my precious time on a woman as irritating as you. No. This? What I'm doing now? This is a service. An act of justice.”

Kai’s cock drilled you into the wall with a force so strong, he thought he might shatter your precious body. One of his hands came up to brace your shoulder, as his other positioned itself at your hip. Kai’s thrusts became ruthless and nasty.

“N-No, you fucking love me. You can’t get enough of me. I know you – fuck~! – I know you can’t, Kai!” You whined through a grin, “I’d be dead already otherwise and – ooooooooooo~! Don’t fucking stop!”

The thick veins of his cock pulsed at the sound of your lewd, obscene claims. And he grumbled incoherently under his breath. Kai brutally fucked you, watching with a wide-eyed gaze as his cock plunged its length into your cunt. Sinking in and out between the clench of your leaking walls. Obscene slapping noises erupted through the small space of the shower, overshadowed only by your pornagraphic moans. Absolutely fucking filthy.

“F-Fuck-” He groaned.

In a sudden, unexpected movement, Kai pulled his pulsating cock from your cunt. He pumped the thick length through the plush, plump cheeks of your ass. And with water showering down, raining wet and lukewarm over your ass and his cock; he came. A thick, hot load burst from his dick and coated your back like a pretty canvas.

Bent over, and with your hands still pressed to the wall, you snickered a condescending laugh. Kai’s cum leaked down your back, following the lead of every water droplet cascading across your skin.

Kai breathed heavily, his damp chest heaving quickly with every intake of air. Faded strands of blue hung over his face, almost shielding his eyes completely. He blinked, watching as the water washed away the evidence of his orgasmic release. Maybe he should've painted you from the inside instead.

“Why the hell are you laughing?” He mumbled lazily. And you giggled again, making a move to stand up straight.

“I didn’t cum, asshole. So…is that it? You break into my apartment to fulfill some sort of sick, twisted fantasy you think women have? And you don't even give me the courtesy of a nut?” You sarcastically clicked your tongue, “I really shouldn’t be surprised. Like I said, you men are all the fucking same.”

You were right. You didn’t get to cum.

Kai could so easily tell you hadn't. Because he'd memorized the perfect way your pussy clenched and squeezed around his dick when you did.

Be the better man. Be the better man. Be the better man.

Reaching out to shove you forcefully against the wall again, Kai used all of his remaining strength to keep you in place. You gasped, squeaking out another, high-pitched sound of surprise. And with your brows furrowed once more, you groaned with annoyed frustration.

“What the fuck are you doing now, Anderson?! Haven't you had enough??”

"What's it look like? I'm doing as you said. I'm pleasing you.” Kai muttered in monotone. He would have smirked, had his exhaustion not left him emotionally stunted. Kai leaned forward, whispering over your shoulder with his breath fanning your ear, "And for right now, just call me divine ruler."

"You're not serious…" You snickered again, making a mockery of Kai. Just as he expected you would.

No matter, you'd be singing his praises any moment now.

With your body pressed against the wall once more, Kai sank down to his knees in the shower. By now, the water had long since run cold. Close to freezing, even. The wet tickle of it caused your smooth skin to erupt in a flurry of goosebumps. And Kai took the time to graze his gloved fingers across them. You hummed quietly in response, biting your lip.

Kai leaned in, breathing hot breaths over your glistening cunt. Another second passed, and he began feasting on your delectable pussy from behind. As though doing so would bring him peace, prosperity, and good fortune. Holding your ass cheeks firmly with his palms, Kai explored every inch of your beautiful cunt with his tongue. The tip of his tongue teased between your lips, sinking its way through your walls.

And after tongue fucking you for a few, generous moments; he dragged the wet, drooling muscle to your clit. Kai sucked the small bud in between his chapped lips. Letting his tongue circle and bash the sensitive, little bundle of nerves.

"Ohhh...divine ruler..." You whined, and you giggled at yourself for using the name. Kai smirked around your clit, the tip of his nose greeting your folds.

"Mmmm...my angel..." He whispered, hushed and hot against your pussy, "...learning to see the light…"

Guiding his feast in a more filthy direction, Kai let his tongue swipe all the way up through your ass cheeks. He wiggled the tip of his tongue in fluttery circles around your hole, prodding at it while groaning low under his breath. Cool, crisp water showered his head and face as he dove in so deep. You squirmed in place again, letting breathless laughter interrupt your desperate moans. And once more, Kai returned his attention to your cunt.

"Pl-Please~! Ah! Divine ruler! Feels so good-" You cried, your needy voice bouncing off the walls of the shower. Glorious utterances of his true name.

Kai lapped at your clit, teasing you until you reached the gates of heaven.

You came all over his tongue. Thick wetness weeped from your pussy like a liquid gift, and Kai gladly drank it all down. Your legs quivered quickly as you rocked your hips back, riding out the bliss of your euphoria. The cheeks of your ass collided with Kai's face in gentle, abrupt movements.

"N-Need you, Kai. Divine ruler. Need you so bad. Want you so bad-"

You whimpered forbidden words you only dared let slip in the heat of ecstasy. And Kai took a mental note of every single one.

Sometime later, Kai treated you to yet another venti, iced, white chocolate mocha. It was the least he could do, right?

After breaking into your apartment, scaring you shitless, nearly choking you unconscious, and grabbing you by the pussy.

In this particular instance, when you sat across from him with your coffee and pulled the straw between your colored lips; you did so in Kai's basement. At the table, under the heat of lamp light. And with your unoccupied hand, you brought a pinky out. Only to lock it with Kai's own.

"Scream Queen." He quietly said, wearing a smile that could kill, "What's the most pleasure you've ever felt?"

#kai anderson x y/n #kai anderson x you #kai anderson x reader #txt #smut #sjgjdhgkjdshgkjdsgkjdsgsdg

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cool-fancier · 6 months

Text

Flames of Passion

Synopsis: A heated argument with Redlic escalated into a passionate encounter. Anger and desire combined, resulting in immense tension that ended in a blazing climax that brought you both closer together.

The evening had begun quietly enough, with you and Redlic sharing a nice night at home. But as time passed, a seething argument between you began to grow. Small arguments escalated into a full-fledged fight, and it was as if the sparks of irritation fueled your emotions.

Redlic's anger was evident as she screamed her worries, her eyes flashing. "I can't believe you're so stubborn, always thinking you're right!”

You, too, felt angry and refused to back down in the face of her claims. "I'm not the only one who struggles to see the big picture!" It irritates me because you're so short-sighted!"

As the argument continued, the room became tense. You were both stubborn, and neither of you was willing to give in. The heat of the disagreement burned your cheeks with rage and frustration as the voices became louder.

In the middle of the chaos, Redlic's gaze caught on yours, and she said those fateful words, her voice low and forceful. "Shut up."

Her order hung in the air like a challenge, difficult you to ignore it. The fire in her eyes sparked something within you, a mix of frustration and desire that had been growing during the fight.

"Make me," you answered, your voice low and tension-filled.

The argument shifted into a completely different direction at that point. The room's wrath and desperation had given way to a different type of intensity—a heady mix of Lust and tension, a challenge that neither of you could decline.

Redlic drew closer to you, her lips crashing onto yours in a powerful, passionate kiss. The kiss represented an eruption of want and fury a need to show power and a desire to be dominated. It was as if the fight started with a hidden flame that could only be smothered by a different kind of fire.

As the kiss deepened, your hands tangled in Redlic's hair, drawing her closer. It was a tense war of tongues and teeth, a struggle for control and submission. The tension in the room was obvious between you, a physical electricity that left you both breathless.

Clothes were flung aside in a fit of outrage, and you found yourselves caught in a passionate embrace, a war of lips, hands, and skin. The rage that had powered the argument had now been channelled into a different type of intensity, one that had you both gasping for air.

The tension between you grew as your bodies crushed against each other. It was a war of wills and desires, a struggle for domination with little place for room for negotiation. Redlic's nails drove into your back, and you responded by grabbing her hips with a strong hold.

The room was filled with heavy breathing and the rustle of blankets as you moved in a frantic pace. The wrath that started the fight was now bound with a desire, a violent mix of emotions that had you both on the verge of a nervous breakdown.

The tension that had sparked the experience was then released in a wave of bliss with a final, passionate climax. The room fell silent, the remains of the fight long gone in the aftermath of your deep connection..

You were still trembling from the intensity of the encounter as you lay wrapped in one other's arms. The frustration that had fuelled your passion had been replaced by a sense of closeness and connection, leaving you both feeling raw and vulnerable.

Redlic was the first to break the silence, her voice barely audible in the dark light. "I can't believe we let our argument turn into this."

You quietly giggled, your fingertips drawing lazy patterns on her skin. "Sometimes, it takes just one spark to start a different kind of fire."

Redlic softened her sight as she turned to face you. "I never thought anger and love could be so connected."

You shared glances with her, a slight smile on your lips. "Passion has many appearances, and sometimes it's the rawest and most intense feelings that lead to the most powerful connections."

You hugged each other close in the quiet moments that followed, the tension in the room replaced by a sense of calm and affection. It was a night you'd never forget, a night when an argument had turned into a passionate show of desire and love.

As you lay together in the aftermath, the room filled with a sense of intimacy and tenderness that had been absent at the start of the evening. The argument had led you to a place of vulnerability and connection, a place where love and desire had triumphed over anger and frustration.

It was a night that had taught you both that sometimes, in the midst of chaos and disagreement, it's the intensity of your emotions that can bring you closer and remind you of the powerful connection you share.

#street woman fighter x reader #swf2 #swf2 x reader #street woman fighter 2 #mannequeen #redlic #redlic x reader #Han Haeun

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thatdammchickennugget · 15 days

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Congrats on 1500 dearie! Super proud of you and all the wonderful work you've contributed! I can't wait to see what more you have in store for all of us ♥

For the celebration event here's my description of myself

I have long dark brown hair to my lower back with blue-grey eyes, I wear pink square frame glasses, am 5'5, with fair skin and wear mostly flared jeans with graphic T-shirts, sneakers and my favorite Sailor Moon jacket! I love nail art/acrylic nails, the band Queen, cats, creative writing, video games (N64 era), listening to the rain fall while reading a good book. My favorite colors are black and lavender. I'm normally very introverted and keep quiet outside my group, but am absolutely ready to become a raging b*tch if someone is messing with my friends. I'm a Sagittarius, speak English (learning Japanese on the side) For the Fandom (Harry Potter - Golden Trio Era) with a Frenemies to Lovers trope? or Enemies to Lovers if that's easier~ Thank you so much for all you do dearie! ♥

Thank you so much for your kind words, I appreciate you!! 💕💕

Romantic Match-Up: Draco Malfoy

draco and you initially clashed from the moment you first crossed paths at hogwarts. with your quiet demeanor contrasting sharply with his arrogant swagger, you found yourselves constantly at odds, exchanging barbed comments and icy glares whenever you crossed paths.

despite your frequent clashes, there was an undeniable tension simmering beneath the surface, fueled by mutual stubbornness and the magnetic pull of your opposing personalities.

he found himself captivated by your unconventional style and the way you seemed to effortlessly command attention without even trying or wanting it.

meanwhile, you couldn't help but be drawn to draco's confident demeanor and piercing silver eyes, despite his reputation as the slytherin prince. beneath his cold exterior, you sensed a vulnerability that you couldn't ignore.

your dynamic shifted over time as you found yourselves reluctantly teaming up on group projects or being paired together in potions class. through begrudging cooperation, the two of you began to see glimpses of each other's true selves, discovering unexpected common ground and shared interests.

as you spent more time together, your animosity slowly gave way to grudging respect and eventually something more. you found yourselves confiding in each other, sharing secrets and vulnerabilities you had never revealed to anyone else.

the tension between you reached its peak during a particularly heated argument in the corridors. words were exchanged like swords, cutting through the air with razor-sharp precision as emotions ran high.

in the heat of the moment, draco's mask of arrogance slipped, revealing the vulnerability that lay beneath. as you stood before him, defiant and unyielding, he felt a surge of emotion that he couldn't ignore.

without a second thought, draco closed the distance between you, his hand reaching out to cup your cheek as he silenced your protests with a desperate kiss. it was a clash of fire and ice, passion and defiance, as the world around you faded into insignificance.

for a fleeting moment, time stood still as you both surrendered to the intensity of the moment, the weight of your unspoken desires hanging heavy in the air. it was a kiss born of frustration and longing, a silent plea for understanding in a world fraught with uncertainty.

and as you pulled away, breathless and disoriented, you found yourselves locked in a silent embrace, the echoes of your tumultuous argument fading into the background.

Song: Afraid by The Neighbourhood

#nuggets 1500 follower celebration #draco malfoy #draco malfoy headcanons

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lilacsolanum · 2 months

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I'm really feeling grateful for the unspoken rule in fandom that if you don't like a fic, just click off. It's free and it's a hobby, so there's no need to leave a critical review. Every now and then I'll see people whine about that, which. Wild. But like. Hey, don't.

In 2020, I lost more than just my job. I lost my entire life path. I lost the future I had planned for myself. I worked in the service industry, and that industry will never, ever be the same. It might look like it's snapped back from the outside, but it hasn't. Obviously, everyone life changed permanently, a literal global level of shift, and I'm not exactly special. Myself and my family and friends all came out of it healthy and I'm so grateful. Still, man, for me more than most people I know, shit was like the Thanos snap. One day, half my life was gone.

I had two choices: despair, or make the best of it. I've been called to performing my entire life, but never pursued it due to self-doubt. Well, when I was unemployeed and desperate, I suddenly decided to jump into audiobook narration with no plan and no training. And somehow, I got gigs. I started working with an author who was on the verge of blowing up, who didn't have the budget to find a trained professional at the time so used someone with potential who would work for an appropriate payrate. I recorded my first series giving 200%, which is 100% more than anyone wants to listen to in an audiobook narrator. I'm incredibly proud of my first efforts and invested the money I made in coaching and equipment upgrades, but as the author's fanbase grew, so do people's expectations of the narration.

It's been uhhhhhhhhh a wild ride. I'm so grateful that I got lucky, but also, do not recommend this situation to anyone. While I am improving and growing, most of my books are a little rough, and the one star reviewers are fucking LETTING. ME. KNOW. All caps, rage filled, terrible spelling and b'grammar'd passionate reviews on every audiobook retailer imaginable are out there for me to obsess over in at my low points. Which is often. Remember when I said I suffer from crippling self-doubt? Mama I am dragging my stubborn ass through this accidental career pivot of mine out of spite rather than pride. It's not fun.

They have a right to speak their mind, as most of them paid for the book! So if you hate it, go off! But still! Sometimes I combat that by reading comments on my fanfiction. The majority of comments I receive on AO3 are positive with a few mild exceptions, and those are easy for me to shake off because of the support I've received. The positive comments motivate me to improve my writing just as much as the negative comments on my acting do, except being positively motivated makes that improvement go faster and a more pleasant journey. It's a nice, safe place for me. I don't appreciate the culture of no negative comments because I don't accept that negative criticism is a part of putting yourself out there creatively. I accept it very much. I appreciate them because I AM a professional creative and people pay for products I've produced and have every right to express their opinions on it and it's so important I have a space where I don't have to deal with that.

So thank you, those who suppress the urge to leave negative comments on fanfic. And thank you to people who leave kind reviews. You never know what someone is going through, and my god, kind comments on my fic inspire me to work even harder as a performer, because one day, I want to receive equal positivity for both ventures. Thank you for fueling my ambitions with kindness.

#audiobook narrator #listen to the wolven mark by megan linski #it's free on most platforms #just saying

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minjaebe · 3 months

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hello everyone! ✨I'm lynn (she/them, 25+, gmt+1) and this is my rp blog for jung minjae (22y/o idol wannabe). behind the cut you can find information about her, her background, and wanted plots/interactions I might come up with and update from time to time. please feel free to shoot us a message or slide into our ask box to plot, talk ooc & interact.

ᴊᴜɴɢ ᴍɪɴᴊᴀᴇ (ᴩʜᴏᴇɴɪx) • ɴᴏᴠ 17ᴛʜ, 2001 (22yᴏ) • ꜱᴄᴏʀᴩɪᴏ • ɪᴅᴏʟ ᴡᴀɴɴᴀʙᴇ

ʙᴀᴄᴋɢʀᴏᴜɴᴅ

» jung minjae (stage name phoenix) was born on a crisp autumn day in seoul, south korea, 22 years ago. from a young age, she showed sheer passion and talent for ice-skating, which set her on the inevitable trajectory towards becoming a professional athlete. » only child, grown into a poor family, since the first moment they got a glimpse of their daughter's talent her parents saw in it a mean for a better life. this led them to inevitably put a lot of pressure on minjae's shoulders and to do everything they could to push her towards the right path. whether it was because of her own passion or because of their influence, minjae soon started cherishing the dream of reaching the top, of getting to the olympics. » since the age of ten, when she started winning more and more competitions and gain enough prizes, her parents decided to home-school her so she could fully focus on her career. this led her to miss out on a lot of childhood and teenage experiences and to grow up way too quickly. eventually, this ricocheted the moment she had to drop out her sport. » at the age of sixteen, indeed, her dream came to an end when a bad fall on the ice caused her a career-ending injury. of that event, minjae holds very few memories — only a brief, sharp pain, blood, and black. she woke up in an hospital bed and, no matter how surgeons and professionals her parents reached out to, she soon realised that her career was over. » this unforeseen setback plunged minjae into a dark hole. without friends nor a future, unable to tell who she was without her shattered dreams, she wandered into a world of rebellion and despair. filled with rage, she started exploring the world to try and get back what she'd lost during the years she'd spent focusing only on her sport. she tried dr*ugs, bonded with the wrong people, found herself entangled with the law on multiple occasions... the pain manifested in reckless behavior, fueled by a desperate need to escape a reality she could not accept. » although she remembers this as the darkest moment of her life, it also helped her, in a way, to finally cut the toxic relationship with her parents and to focus more on herself, discovering things she'd never had the chance to discover before. she became more independent, more stubborn, more herself. she moved out of the house, and it was around that time that music finally fell into her life, almost a lifeline from above it came to gave her a new purpose. » through her chaotic life spent between underground parties and pubs, she discovered that dancing was something she enjoyed just as much as skating. when she was finally contacted by a man that saw in her potential to become an idol one day, in his advises she found a path that could give her life a meaning. » a couple of years later, she's 22 and she's trying to chase that dream. she knows she's so far behind many other people that have started to train a lot sooner than her, but the years spent in figure skating make learning dancing and choreographs a bit easier — and, even better, taught her what determination and sacrifice really are. » what she still struggles with the most is building her public persona, her past making it so that it's not that easy anymore to bottle up the fire that she repressed all her childhood life and has only recently started to enjoy. luckily, she knows well enough how to fake and pretend to be someone she's not, all while having fun when no-one's watching. when she's not training and putting up a facade for those who could one day hire her, she can be found working as a dancer (and, sometimes, as a stripper) in nightclubs around seoul, a black wig to cover her blond hair, doing her best to enjoy the freedom she knows she will one day lose with fame.

ᴩʟᴏᴛ/ᴄᴏɴɴᴇᴄᴛɪᴏɴꜱ ɪᴅᴇᴀꜱ

» friends in general. although she grew up quite isolated (apart from connections she made back when she did ice-skating or maybe family friends?), she's become a lot better at making friends in the recent years. so, anything goes, really! » people that have been wanting to get in the industry for a lot longer than her and that could help her train and understand this new world she wants to get into. » she's quite good with dancing and making choreographs, but she could use some help with singing and, even more, with songwriting. she has a lot to say, but she has no idea how to put that into songs so, help a girl out lol » rivals and "enemies" are always fun to have? idk just people that she doesn't get along with until something changes and they become friends (or not) » someone that might find out she works at nightclubs and, in general, that her life has a "dark side"? idk just someone that might see that she's not as pristine as she likes to pretend like she is in front of superiors and talent scouts (she doesn't necessarily try to hide it with other people, but knows that to become an idol and being hired she needs to keep up appearances with ppl that matter) » roomates, people that live with her or next to her place, coworkers (if there's someone that does similar jobs or works at nightclubs) or people she used to work with (after getting injured, she did a variety of jobs, so there's probably something we can find) » people she might've met during the dark days of her life? maybe people she used to (or still does) get drunk with, stay up through the night, etc. » more specific plot & thread ideas can be found here!

#✨ . pinned post #✨ . ooc

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undermine-the-instinct · 2 years

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Fire and Tempest

Diluc x Anemo! Reader. Slight yandere themes.

Fire was fast, it was sure and swift. It danced on his fingertips and flew from his blade with the same surety as the winds that you sequestered.

Fire and Tempest. Nothing stood in its path for long. Or his, for that matter.

You had wondered why the gods have given you two such destructive habits. and why they had given you two visions that played into your opposing tendencies.

You, with your bitterness and stubborn countenance, your unwillingness to back down; You are given the passage of air.

Diluc and his impassive face, hiding the eyewall that rages within; He is given the mantel of fire.

And like fire, like the caution and fear it begets, you learned to keep your distance. because while Diluc was not exactly fire, he was red.

Red was passion, it was love and life and thrill. It was poisoned apples. Red was summer sunsets, it was fresh blood, Red was simmering and festering.

You were red too, because red was hungry and bitter and half feral. Even an Archon could not deny you your nature.

It is a color that sears. Leaves its mark on your flesh and takes its time to devour. Like a fire, demanding its oxygen to burn.. Or steady winds, sanding down mountains and smoothing valleys, and propping up the weight of a bleeding sky past dusk.

You weren’t that giving to throw yourself to the tempest.

You were granted Anemo, but fire suited you much better.

Diluc thought fire suited you better.

Of course he knew there was a reason the Archons made their choice. How else could he explain ( The breath stolen from his lungs ) the nimbleness of your hands, the swiftness of your feet, the mischief on your lips and the glint in your eye?

He's seen these things with other anemo vision holders.

The drunk bard of an archon, fingers flying over the strings of his lyre.

Jean and the tired, hard glint in her eyes.

He has been likened to fire so many times, even before his vision, that it is diurnal. His hair is flame, is eyes are embers, his sword a holy infernal.

There is nothing holy about him. Not anymore.

You, on the other hand, are full of indignation, quiet perseverance and quaint joy. You burn through life with an insouciance that made him wonder (and worry)-,and if it weren’t for the promised peril in your eyes, he would think that you would need to be protected.

But fire needs oxygen to burn and there was a catch in his breath and a match in your eyes, waiting, daring to spark.

The hearth that was his chest was dripping and molten, and the lazy drawl of your mouth was the breeze that sent all the embers into frenzied disarray.

So perhaps he is mistaken in likening you to fire. Perhaps he is.

Because surely the Archons only gave you Anemo to add fuel to his ruin.

--------

They say he is fire, that his hair is a blaze, his eyes smolder, his hands were made to bear a righteous flame.

Diluc took more to air than most others would credit him for.

You think he thinks the same.

But you think he is air.

His breath would stutter and catch sometimes. His hair is softer, and fluffier, than you would expect. His hands flutter when they are empty. His eyes are flighty, as is his presence , and seldom meet yours.

You do not pretend you do not know why. Fire needs oxygen to burn and you will let him burn through what little air he is able to catch in your periphery. if that is what he stalks you for, if that is what he is after you will allow it.

Of course, you do not touch or know him because you want to, and what you do know is merely through osmosis. You think you know him the least out of everyone but still more than he knows himself.

You met Diluc through darkened alleyways, lit by fire and fury. The air was deathly still, hung by an air of trepidation. His face was white with shock, hands red ( by blade or blood you weren’t sure). He had stood still but you had not. You left him there, and he let you keep your silence.

( You had walked miles, to a windswept city, where laughter and song rang like bells. Soon it rang from you too. )

You are content to live your life free of fire and brimstone. You never had a thing for dark unsung heroes anyways. Blood and ash never bonded well for you, and you didn't have a penchant for any more misery than you already lived through.

You had lived through misery and hunger and cold, like counting your ribs like coins. Like counting your breaths and hoping each one would be the second to last. You will not give him anything more than what you are willing to give.

and you do not offer much at all

There is something on his face when he looks at you, something expansive and tumultuous. Like the gale that precedes the mighty storm, the sunset sky in his eyes burns a tempest on the throes of your shore.

The weight of that sky is heavy, heavy, and you will not be the one to bear it. You do not avert your gaze for you simply will not, and because something has to give.

You never knew a younger Diluc, when his red was that of Middlemist, and on the apples of his cheeks, split by a grin.

You don't know Diluc all that much either now, but what you do know, is that the only difference between a monster and a human is the justification for their slaughter. Whether instinct, or reason.

—--

If Diluc was air he could love you better.

He would gather the Sweet flower, the windwheel, and the dandelion and fix them a bouquet for you; The Dendrobium for your doorstep and the glaze lily for your brow.

He would run his hands through your hair and down the length of your spine, across your eyelids and press closer and closer till there was no space between the two of you.

Till the two of you could share your air, ( In the fire glance strike with glance, swift flashing high and higher. Like the gale that precedes the mighty storm–) until no boundaries were left to speak of.

He would offer the Cecilia to your altar and prostrate himself, all for the chance to throw himself onto your pyre.

But for all your infernal blue skies and sunlit plazas he would not meet your gaze. He could not. Because he was used to fire, but he could not handle your sear, your scorn.

He had seen it in that darkened alleyway, once upon a time,and he’s seen it thousand other times, every time he’s tracked you down.

He always had an excuse, some guise, and you always saw through them. You remembered that night as well as he, and you would not let him forget it, to pretend otherwise. You saw what he was. You knew.

And that unsettled him. Because only those who once loved him could ever really know him. There were once two, his father, long gone in the ground, and a brother long gone cold. What were you?

He needed to explain, to prove himself. You did not know him before the misery, before the ashes and betrayal and delusions of grandeur. He wanted to prove to you his red could be more than blood.

You knew him, but did not love him. He would remedy this.

So he will let the winds settle, and his hands. You still watch them, wary and tense, these suddenly unsure, calloused appendages; whether around a glass, a blade, fixing his sleeves or tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. Tracing the curve of it. It was an oversight.

He had flushed upon realization, and you had laughed, bright and harsh and derisive.

You were cruel.

But you look at him, with those eyes and oh, Diluc melts. He truly, truly melts.

There is a lilt in your voice and a smile on your lips and Diluc wants to bask in it. He wants to be swept away by you, like winds carrying embers far away, just to burn down another forest in some fiery approximation of love or gratitude.

He is a hungry thing who wants to drown in the red of you. All flushed skin and lips and cheeks and pyro whopper flowers in his chest, wrecking havoc there; the flames no longer tempering the steel of his heart but liquefying it, rendering him defenceless.

This love will kill him. He will let it.

_____

Kaeya wonders why the Gods gave you two such destructive tendencies.

Because that's all they were. Your thoughts and emotions and habits, morals, visions.

All tendencies. All a particular inclination.

Kaeya has discarded all of his. Or he has pretended so long that he cannot remember them.

He has long since stopped smelling the flowers and playing with fire. He has grown and he has learned and his hands are stained red too.

But it is offset by the blue of his eyes, his hair, his namesake, blue and red sleeping into a heart long gone cold. Its beats, and bleeds purple, coloring his veins the elegant mystery of violet.

So Kaeya is still. He is stately and still and jovial and appraised and he will watch this faux of a fairytale.

( You lived through misery and hunger and cold, like counting your ribs like coins, like walking miles to a windswept city where laughter and song rang like bells. Soon, it rang from you too. You laughed and laughed till you met a young, young man with red hair and red eyes and red hands. )

Because something has to give. You may not be flowers and tempest, and Ragnvindr may be half kindling, half inferno, but you were both red.

Angry and simmering and half feral, bitter and lovely and red in all its shades. Kaeya is just waiting to see who would end up more mangled in the end.

Because you were no Beauty to his Beast ( and Diluc melts )

But neither did the Riding Hood end up unscathed.

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itspileofgoodthings · 4 years

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been watching the last dance with my family and we’re on episode 2 and I DON’t WANT IT TO END

#the last dance #michael jordan #i love basketball tbh #and i love sports as a way of revealing people’s true selves #and i LOVE THE RELENTLESS ONES #THE GREAT ONES #THE HUNGRY ONES #THE ONES WHO ARE THE BEST BECAUSE THEY HAVE THIS FIRE INSIDE OF THEM #and that’s jordan!#he has such an easy friendly presence #he’s diplomatic and he’s playful #and then he steps on the court and fury is unleashed #IT’s SO BEAUTIFUL #i love #watching it #i love watching excellence #fueled by stubbornness and passion and rage #just. the HUMANITY OF IT ALL

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azsazz · 2 years

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Flame and Ash

Azriel x Reader

Summary: You are the fourth Archeron sister (between Elain and Feyre). When Elain had been thrust into the cauldron it was fear that consumed her, Nesta was fueled with anger, but you, you were filled with pure hatred.

Warnings: Smut smut smut. A Court of Mist and Fury spoilers.

Word Count: 4,634

_________________________________________

Everything you are raged in a pit of fire.

You were filled with pure anger. You’d always been a hot-headed child, blazing passion buzzed underneath your skin like electricity ever since you could remember.

Your mother had told you once that you were irate when you came out of her, a scowl on your face and quiet as a mouse. She swore she saw the darkness in you and she had shoved you out of her arms the instant you turned that flaming gaze upon her. She had wanted nothing to do with you, so you wanted nothing to do with her.

You hated your father too, because he hadn’t done a thing for years, when you and your sisters were on the edge of starvation, only to finally find purpose once your riches were restored. A true coward, he had been. Would always be in your eyes.

Your temper held hot throughout your childhood. Your sense of trust was skewed – by what you didn’t know – and you didn’t have any friends. You didn’t need them, as you preferred to spend time with yourself, making up your own worlds in your head, exploring the woods near your home, and when your family had given up, your mother gone and your father hurt, you had gone hunting with Feyre.

Older than her by ten months, you were nearly twins. She was pretty much the only one you could stand within your family. Her cold, stubborn personality rivaling yours like fire and ice. You both longed for something different, fueled by starvation and fear and hatred.

But she had left you.

Stolen away by a beast in the night and there was nothing you could do. You tried, tried to follow her but she had stopped you, told you to take care of the family. To take care of yourself.

And now she was back. A beautiful high fae standing in front of you. Her piercing eyes pleaded you to let her inside. She at least looked sorry as you stared at her, eyes lit with the fury of a thousand suns.

When Feyre had come to your home she was different. You could tell by the way she held herself, chin high and she stood as if she were an heir to something greater than the broken family you had become. Her features elongated, sharper somehow, and you had sworn you saw a point where the rounds of her ears should’ve been before Nesta swooped you away from her.

You should have taken me with you, her head bowed in shame as if she could hear you.

The males she was with must have noticed the look on your face, standing stiffly, keeping a cautious eye on you throughout the meal. You sat stock straight in your seat, seething, refusing to utter a single word. You had felt something crawling through your mind, but you had let your fiery hot flames lick against that scratch, and it had retreated just as fast. You glowered at Feyre’s mate, who’s brows furrowed slightly as he studied you.

The one with the blue stones encapsulated in his armor sat next to you, an ever watching eye. He shifted uncomfortably in his chair for a moment, those massive wings failing to fit properly against the tall back of the seat. You watched, amused only slightly. He was silent like you, and devastatingly handsome, though you showed no blatant interest in him nor the conversation happening around you.

They were seeking the help of you and your siblings. You nearly let out a harsh laugh at the silly request. Why did powerful high fae need the help of you and your mortal sisters?

They babied Elain when her words trembled, plastering reassuring smiles on their faces when they spoke, voices gentle as if they would scare off the terrified doe.

When the Warlord exploded, mouthing off to Nesta about how the lot of you did nothing while Feyre was the one who stepped up, your cheeks burned hot with rage. She had failed to mention that you were out there with her? That she was the key to your family's survival? Cruel, wicked sister. Your resolve cracked just a bit, clenching both your jaw and the fork in your hand at the admission, your glare cutting into the side of your sister's head, who refused to look your way.

The bob of her throat as she swallowed was her tell.

The male next to you, Azriel, tightened his own grip on the knife in his hand. You marked that as well.

It had been the decision of the oldest in the end, not to remove yourselves from your home in favor of the sister that had left. Elain was engaged and you were…whatever it was you were doing alone all of the time. You grit your teeth. Everything was always about Elain.

You and Feyre both knew that.

The glance the two of you shared, remembering the days where you’d be hunting, grumbling about your sisters came flashing into your mind. She gave you a knowing smile when your eyes lightened a bit.

She had tried to seek you out after dinner was cleaned up. Nesta had ordered you and Elain to your rooms while she showed the high fae to their own. The eldest stopped the two of you from speaking quickly.

As you were returning to your room from the library down the hall, a stack of novels next on your list piled high in your arms, you met the hazel eyes of the warrior, his face illuminated by his cobalt siphons. You kept walking.

—-------

The next time you saw Feyre was when you were taken. Bound and gagged like your two sisters, shoved harshly into the ground by the soldiers who had dragged you in here.

This was some new form of hell. The King that the High Lord had warned you of, the Wolf that had taken your sister from you, her mate, they were all here. You couldn’t help but notice the limp body of the Spymaster, something twisting in your gut as you took in the dark pool of blood he was lying face-down in.

You hadn’t gone a day without thinking of him since they had come around to ask for you and your sister's help. The straight planes of his face, sharp cheekbones and perfect nose, how his fighting leathers caressed every bulge of muscle. Those brutally scarred hands. You had imagined what those fingers would feel like against your bare skin more times than you could count. He had completely captured your attention against your will.

You burned for him.

When Elain had been dragged into the Cauldron she had been scared. Blatant fear as the icy cold water dragged her in. Her mouth opened in a gasp and the liquid rushed in, choking her. Her terror increased tenfold the longer she was held under. And in return, she had been gifted the power of sight. She could look into the future, the fear of knowing what no one else would until it was almost too late.

Nesta was all anger. She had taken what she wanted from the damned thing, a finger sticking up in defiance as she was plunged under, willing the powers of the cauldron into her as much as she could. If she couldn’t save Elain from this fate, she would sure as hell would try for you. Terrifying was the only way you could describe your eldest sister when she had fallen from the bath, her eyes white hot with rage and gone the moment next. You shuddered at the look.

The guards grabbed you but you did not scream, did not fight. It was futile, with how easily they had dragged your sisters in. You held your chin high instead, the piercing cries of your kin echoing off of the stone walls, much too loud for your ears. If this was how you were to greet death, in a cauldron filled with darkness, you welcomed it. Instead you burned inside for the excruciating end you knew you deserved.

Once your head had sunken under the water you exploded. Every ounce of hatred you had stored up rushed out of you. You thought about your neglectful mother, your useless father, everything and everyone who had wronged you. Feyre when she left. Elain and Nesta, who did nothing when all was said and done. You wanted to fight them all. You loathed the things they did. They were your family by blood only.

You were under so long your lungs burned, a welcome feeling you grasped onto, your body tensing as it convulsed for air. There was no oxygen here, only darkness licking hot against your lungs, a warmth you had not known you were missing. You yearned for this feeling your entire mortal life, and you were now finally alive.

Unaware of what the others were seeing, a cauldron of ink boiling into white waters, smoke rising. It burned so hot the blackness of its iron outside glowed red. You were under too long for any human to survive, and even when the King of Hybern himself ordered his guards to remove you from the water, one touch from the cauldrons liquids had them screaming in pain, their hands blistering from the scalding water.

You clamped onto the side of the tub, sucking in a harsh breath of air when your head broke the surface, and you were alight with flames. An inferno of blue and white fire, licking up and down your skin, lighting the room. The others could barely stand to look at you, you burned so bright. A shocked gasp was the only noise you made as you studied your hands, lit like matches and burning out just as quick.

Your nightgown was ash, floating in the blackened water you were still half submerged in. The soldiers didn’t dare make a move to remove you from the cauldron, so you stepped out of it yourself, hands covering as much of yourself as you could.

At least the fae males had the decency to avert their eyes.

It was the long red haired male – Elains…mate – that had shrugged off his coat and offered it to you, wrapping it around your shoulders and quickly moving himself a distance away. You swore you could hear the Shadowsinger growl, but when you looked over to the injured male, his eyes were closed, face contorted in pain as he held his leaking wound.

In the end it was the High Lord of the Night Court's cousin who winnowed you and your sisters away, wrapping the three of you tightly in her arms. The swirling mist stifled you like a suffocating flame. You struggled for air once more, and in an instant you were in the middle of someone’s warm home, legs shaky while your younger sister had been left with the wolf.

Nesta screamed her head off and Elain sobbed. You however, were silent, half in shock, half in fear for the Shadowsinger who was nearly dead. His breath rasped harshly as the High Lord winnowed himself and his brothers back to his home. Cassian’s wings were shredded to bits and Azriel barely looked alive. Rhysand himself felt like half of his heart had been ripped out of his chest with his and Feyre’s bond broken.

You observed as Mor winnowed in healers, one by one until there wasn’t any room around the Illyrians. You could hardly see as they worked on rebuilding the Warlords wings and used their healing magic on Azriel’s wounds. You curled into the coat around you, shaking, as everyone fought or cried or yelled while you sat frozen on the ground watching with terrified eyes.

He coughed harshly, turning his head and spitting up blood before taking his first full, unstrained gasp, the flame inside of you flickering back to life. His half-lidded eyes met yours for a moment, before they dragged down your body, baring his teeth as he noticed the tunic wrapped tightly around you. Your body was on fire as his gaze licked you up and down.

“Come with us,” a reassuring voice in your ear startles you. You look up to see a beautiful fae with a soft look on her face, “I’m Naula. My sister and I will help you get cleaned up.” She nods over her shoulder to where her identical twin is trying to collect Elain, but is met with a feisty Nesta standing in her way. You look back up at her with big eyes, gaze sweeping over the Shadowsinger’s exhausted face, before agreeing, taking her extended hand to help yourself up.

You didn’t see anyone except the twins for days.

It was strange, being high-fae. You often stared into the mirror at yourself for hours of the night, examining the unnatural smooth skin and elongated features, unable to close your eyes without seeing the hurt Illyrian lying in his own pool of blood. Your eyes were bigger, brighter, more devastatingly beautiful than you’d ever thought you could be.

You could hardly stand it.

Cerridwen had shown you to the library and you had been back nearly everyday since. It was the most beautiful room you’d ever seen. So many books there were, and you took them, devouring one after another.

You had run into Nesta once, as she had liked to read nearly as much as you did. It was the one thing you had in common with your older sister. You had stared each other down in the middle of the aisle, your next endeavor clutched in your hands.

“That one is good,” she had said and stepped around you, continuing on her mission to find her next novel.

You hardly ate, the fire that was a constant in your stomach made it hard for you to. You had been unable to yield the hot flame since you had been released from the cauldron. Not that you tried.

Staring into the hearth, your current read discarded to the side, tainted from Nesta’s recommendation.

You slipped off of your chair, scooting closer to the fire burning brightly inside the fireplace. You hesitated, hand raised in front of you, and sucking in a breath you stuck it into the hearth.

A pang of fear spiked in your chest but you did not feel a thing. The flames licked up your arm, crawling higher and higher and you scrambled back, waving it frantically, trying to put out the fire.

A scream crawled its way up your throat as the door burst open, Azriel standing tall in the doorway, a silhouette of darkness.

His eyes widened, alarmed. His memory triggered, flashing back to when he was a young boy, exposed to the same hot flame as you were now, except it had marred his skin forever.

His shadows shoot towards you like torpedos, wrapping around your arm furiously and stifling the flames out. He was kneeling close to you in the next second.

“Are you okay?” his words rattled through you, clanging around your head loudly.

You don’t think you’d ever been asked that question before.

It woke something in you. With that one sentence he had pulled a loose brick from the wall you had spent your entire life building and it had all come crumbling down in an instant. You choked out a wet laugh, studying your hands. They were flawless though they had been covered in flames a few moments before while his were…they were brutal.

It wasn’t fair.

“You should go,” you murmured, voice thick with tears. You didn’t want him to see you when the dam broke, “Lest I burn you.”

“I would let you.”

Your head snapped up, wild eyes meeting his own. His face was stoic but you could feel through his cool facade. He was a mess inside, an utterly terrified feeling coiling in his gut, you could feel the twin emotion in your own. There was something else, something that warmed you, hotter and hotter the longer he stared at you, the soft light from the hearth highlighting your features just right.

He would. He would let you burn him alive if it meant that you even laid a hand on him. He had avoided you as long as he could because he didn’t want to scare you. Didn’t want you and him to end up like Elain and Lucien. But when you sent that feeling of utter fear down the bond, his resolve broke.

And all of a sudden it made sense.

“What is that?” Your voice trembled at the feeling. You could feel it now, a hot string inside of you. You grasped onto it and gave a gentle tug, watching as he flinched.

“We’re mates,” he admits, watching you cautiously.

You exhale at the admission, climbing to your knees to sit opposite him. “We are?”

You couldn’t believe it. How could you have gotten so lucky? You knew you had felt something when you had met his eyes after returning to Velaris.

All the Spymaster could do was nod.

You raised a hand, itching to reach out and touch his skin, but you hesitated. You were afraid you would burst into flame again. He saw the indecision on your face and quickly grabbed your wrist, gentle but firm. His heart raced as he pressed it against his own cheek, reveling in the feeling of your warm skin against his.

You held your breath. Seeing the reassurance in his eyes you slowly stroked your thumb across his cheekbone, watching his lashes flutter for a moment with the motion. He watched you as your eyes scanned his features, drinking in the sight of him as you murmured, “My mate.”

He had to clamp his hands harshly on his thighs to keep from ravishing you.

Instead, he turned his head slightly, pressing a gentle kiss to your palm. Your content sigh and the fire in your eyes has him breaking.

He hauls you into his arms, ignoring the slight hurt in his chest from the wound that was nearly healed. That was the last thing on his mind right now. He lays you on the unmade bed, climbing over you and caging you in, kissing you, and stealing your breath away. His lips are soft at first, tasting, savoring, the taste of you buzzing beneath his skin.

Your hands tangle in his hair while he traces his up your nightgown, reading your body like the good little spy he is, trying to find the spots that drive you crazy. He wants to learn them and memorize them all.

His thumbs brush against your nipples and it causes your chest to rise up, press against his and the Spymaster does it again, this time earning a moan as a reward.

You snake one of your hands down his muscled torso, covered in the fighting gear you always saw him wearing, trying to tug his shirt up. Azriel pulls away, eyes alight with desire. He strips out of the garment and nods at you to do the same but you ignore him in favor of tracing the tattoos that litter his skin, the inky tendrils wrapped around his body like you’ll be in a few minutes.

When you look back up at him your eyes are dark and you lick your lips. He looks like he can barely hold himself back, grazing his eyes down your body. Your thin nightgown does nothing to hide your hardened nipples and the curves of your waist, rucked up so the tiniest sliver of your panties show.

Your smile is sultry when he finally meets your gaze again. You give him a soft nod and then he’s ripping apart the silky fabric, exposing you as you gasp, aroused. Azriel uses his fingers and lips to explore your chest, nipping and biting up, letting the noises you make map his way.

His mouth presses firmly into yours once more and your hands find the snap of his pants, fumbling to unbutton the tricky leathers. You get them loosened eventually after a frustrated minute where you knew your hands had become a blaze again, his cool shadows sweeping across your skin to blow them out. Your cheeks burn red with embarrassment and desire.

A reassuring kiss is pressed to your lips before he steps back from the bed. His eyes stay locked on you as he strips from his pants, peeling them off of his muscular thighs. His underpants go next. Your mouth dries at the bare sight of him, gloriously naked.

His cock is hard and aching, arching away from his stomach and you spread your legs to make room for him to settle between them. He kisses his way up your thighs and you gasp at the trails of wetness he leaves behind, his shadows breezing over them lightly causing you to shudder with arousal. He makes it up to your covered pussy, kisses you through the cloth, letting his tongue flick against the fabric, the warm wetness against your own leaves you panting.

He takes them off agonizingly slow, his blunt fingernails hooking around the sides of your underwear, digging into the sensitive skin of your thighs as he drags them down. You help him, impatient, kicking your legs out of them and he chuckles darkly, massaging your inner thighs before he’s spreading you open and getting his first taste.

You moan loudly, unashamed as he devours you, lapping your heat with his hot tongue. He hums encouragement against your clit and the sensation has you feeling dizzy. He jackknifes his tongue into you, feeling your walls clench around the muscle. He’s achingly hard, the sounds you’re making and the taste of you nearly have him rutting into the bed, but he holds himself back. He wants to wait for you.

“Please,” you beg when he stops, and Azriel loves it, the way your voice cracks as you plead, but he waits, hands firm on your hips to keep you from writhing like you want to. Your hands find his hair again and you push against his head, urging him back towards your pussy, needing so desperately to come.

“Do you want to come now or with me?” His voice is husky with arousal, eyes devouring every move you make.

“Why not both?” you whine, trying to buck your hips up.

A sinful smirk graces his lips as he comments, “Greedy.”

You don’t even have a chance to reply before he sticks a finger into you, drawing a long keening whimper from you. It’s bliss when he adds another and then his tongue into the mix.

There’s fire burning in your belly but it’s not a real flame, it’s the desire for your mate, for how he’s making you feel, teetering so close to the edge. You hope he can feel it, feel how he’s driving you absolutely crazy with each flick of his tongue, each stroke of his fingers.

His rhythm picks up and it isn’t long before you’re arching off of the bed with a warning on your lips. He doesn’t stop, somehow he goes even faster and harder until you’re coming apart at the seams, tipping over the edge into pure bliss.

He kisses your sensitive clit before making his way slowly up to your lips, tasting every inch of your skin, giving you time to recover. His hand follows, skimming over your thigh, stomach, breast, to rest against your chest atop of your pounding heart. He’s thrumming with arousal and the rapid beating of your heart only adds to it, enjoying the feeling of how fantastic he’s making you feel.

Azriel's lips meet yours, surprising a gasp out of you as you had your eyes closed, coming down from your high. Your lips turn frantic against him, you haven’t had enough even though you’ve just come but maybe it’s because his cock is rubbing against your pussy, continuing to tease you.

Your hands slip around his waist before he knows it, tugging hard so his hips cant into yours, his dick sliding harshly against your cunt, the both of you sharing twin groans.

He obeys, pressing in slow and smooth. He moves his hips, testing just once because you feel tight, and he’s hot, and you feel amazing around him. He thrusts again, moving nice and slow.

“Gods,” you whine, feeling utterly full. Azriel ducks down to kiss your neck and you hook a leg over his waist, craning your head to the side to give him more room once he finds that spot. You whimper when he sucks a mark, the pleasant burn of his lips lighting your skin up.

He feels so good with you wrapped around him, pulsing and hot, and he’s panting against the delicate skin of your neck. He moves in slow and steady strokes, striving to find that perfect angle, the one that will make you curse under your breath and clutch him tighter.

“I kept dreaming of what you would taste like, sound like, look like,” he admits after a particularly harsh thrust that has your nails biting into his shoulders. His voice is strangled from holding himself from letting go and pounding into you. “It’s so much better than I imagined.” He presses his face into your neck, kissing there.

You moan at his words, hips responding to his own. Azriel reaches up to grab your hands, fingers tangling together. He pulls his face from your neck, admiring his work before looking down into your beautiful eyes.

“Me too,” you confess, breathless. You press up into him, kissing him feverishly. The Shadowsinger finally finds the right angle, knows this by the noise you make and your fingers tightening around him. He locks it away in his mind for next time.

He starts to thrust with intent. He knows how dangerous fire can be, oh he knows all too well, as he flexes a scarred hand in the sheets. But he finds that he likes the feeling, the burning desire twisting in his gut at the sight of you, eyes rolled into the back of your head, mouth slack with ecstasy, your nails scraping down his back.

His shadows turned each and every one of your flames to ash. He could help you learn to control it tomorrow, but for now…he has some business that needs to finish.

The Shadowsinger jackknifes into you, and you’re begging. You don’t even know what you’re asking for but he does his best to give it to you, pressing into you like you were made for him.

And you were.

He lets your hand go, reaching down and teasing your clit once more. You’re so wet for him, and he uses that to slick his way.

His own orgasm is coiling in his stomach, so close. His thrusts are getting erratic and faster, his hand keeping pace on your bud. He wants to speak but he can’t, too full of the intimacy you’re sharing, so instead he leans his forehead against yours, pressing you further into the pillows.

You latch onto his lips, panting heavily and pleas of his name tumble from your mouth and his name must taste good, with the way you’re crying it before you’re orgasming, clenching around him while he fucks you through it and he’s pressing tight against you and coming with his own guttural moan.

You hold him close and he collapses on top of you, refusing to pull out of you so you can feel him throbbing inside of you. You exchange soft kisses between breaths, pushing his damp hair from his forehead. For once your eyes aren’t filled with fiery hatred, no, they are blazing with pure love.

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danddymaro · 3 years

Text

Stubborn | Rohan Kishibe x Reader

Recap :

- Kira is Dead (LOL)

Josuke isn't massively fucked as he was in the last episode LMFAO. Basically, things went a LOT smoother here, with only one little exception.

Rohan admitting his feelings while almost losing his (F/n)

Character injury

Major change in story

Happy end , no worries

Warning : Not so much romanticism but it was an idea I've had. And we just need to get these drafts outta here.

A/N:

Thoughts are in italics and quotations // ‘ Example,’

Flashback are all in just Italics

Word count: 3451

Stubborn

Rohan glowered at the younger, limping male as he trudged his way closer to him and the woman that was gingerly held within his secure hold.

"You..." the emerald-eyed male sneered before tenderly easing the (h/c) haired female down, mindful not to bring her any more unneeded distress.

He was then quick to shoot back up, moving in long strides, advancing towards Josuke with no trace of the tenderness he'd held moments ago, but rather, maliciousness that itched over his features as he came face to face with the younger.

“ Stay back !” Rohan nearly roared, moving to stop the dark-haired teen from further advancing towards the hurt, (h/c) haired young woman as she lay injured on the concrete ground.

Jojo was then pushed back by a jut to the shoulder that was executed by a bloodied hand that stayed and had every intention in the world from letting him advance forward.

"Don't you dare come any closer Higashikata," Rohan huffed out with the same venom.

With glaring eyes, Josuke shoved the shaking man aside, quickly doing away with the sudden grip with his own vicious jerking motion, not willing to waste any more time with useless quarrels when it could be spent helping (f/n).

“ - You can't be freaking serious!” Jojo cried out in return while not holding back on the aggressive shove, "What are you doing?" He then proceeded to ask, his tone wavering in the slightest, struck by the elder man's opposition.

'- Don't you care about her?' He wondered with bared teeth, ' Doesn't it hurt you to see her like this?' He added, eyeing her beaten sight, all with threatening tears ready to path way onto his young, yet worn face.

“- I need to heal her”! He then declared as he reached out past the artist, all in spite of his determination to stand in opposition

‘Closer...I'm almost there... I'm almost there (f/n),’ Josuke thought to himself, knowing he was just centimeters away from his stand’s working range.

“ What you need to do is get the hell away from her!” Rohan retorted, still fighting back, and yet, throughout the entire time, he hadn't taken the liberty to look down at (f/n), instead, training his spite-filled green orbs eyes on the frantic teenager.

“I didn't ask for your help!” Kishibe added, his spite heightened as he reminded himself just why she'd been targeted.

‘If it weren’t for you…’ The mangaka thought to himself, glaring venomously at the other male. ‘If it weren’t for you.... this wouldn’t have happened…’ He thought with assurance.

'If she hadn't gone out of her way...all for you...' He then added with the same spite, his entire body trembling with fury.

"I'll get her out of here myself, And I don't need you to get in the way!" Kishibe added, soon hearing sirens in the distance as the paramedics approached.

"I don't need your help," He proceeded to speak lowly.

"- But she does," Josuke said back, sternness in his voice, "and I'm going to save her," he said with certainty, not wanting to have another loss on his hands.

"I didn't ask for your help," Rohan insisted, and the arrogant declaration stiffened the teen with silence. “Because if it weren't for you..." Rohan then repeated out loud, his sentence going unfinished before he continued with another line instead.

"....You should have just stayed away from her, ” he maundered, going ignored by Josuke as he wordlessly brought out his stand, the large humanoid being standing tall and just as determined as its wielder, who by then had a grasp on what the real issue was.

It only took the few uttered words prior to understand the true reason behind the elder male's actions, and it made him seethe with rage,

“ You're pathetic,” Josuke said below his breath, unable to look away from (f/n) as he spoke, doing just what the other man couldn't.

'Is that was this is about?' He wondered, 'That asshole...he can't just man up, can he?

- Not even for you,' He thought bitterly while gazing down at (f/n).

“I don't give a damn about what you want. And I could care less about that simple-minded pride of yours,” he went on, his voice rising as he finally took a chance to look back at the other male as he let crazy Diamond's power befall upon the female.

Cobalt met emerald, and in between the fierce gaze were unsaid words shot in between the two, whereas an understanding was made.

'- Try to stop me.' Josuke taunted Rohan with a tight toothed grit, his body standing rigid straight as his hands which were at his sides trembled with his withheld fury.

The younger's haggard breathing steadied for just a moment as he stood as strong as his convictions were, and the very sight made the other man that glared at him scorn.

“I despise you,” Kishibe hissed before a sharp gasp came from below, the little noise stealing his attention, his eyes finally trailing down to the female to watch as the shattered bits of her bones took form.

The endless flow of her cuts then closed, stopping the messy spill.

His expression then unscrunched from its frustrated sneer to melting relief as he saw her breathing begin to steady and afterward, a low, drawn-out breath left him as he saw her (e/c) colored eyes slowly flutter open, the lovely drops gradually adjusting to the light of the cloudy sky.

A small grunt emitted from (f/n) before her (e/c) colored eyes fell upon the teen kneeling before her. Her two hazy orbs then locked onto the concerned blues staring down at her,

'JoJo...it's you...' She thought with a wave of comfort that soon livened her.

And after the relief settled, she then surged with elation, " JoJo! " (f/n) said amidst bubbling joy, her arms immediately circling his neck, tightly holding him with a urgent need to feel him close.

" Jojo...you're ok," she said sweetly, soon crying into his neck.

Her face then pressed directly onto blood and grime, ignoring the filthy stench that clung to him as fiercely as she presently did.

'You're alive...' She thought with joy, knowing that, that was all that mattered.

"...But you’re all beat up," she sniffled afterward, grateful that even if he was injured, he was well enough to stand, enough to tend to her.

A weary chuckle then left her as she realized how fortunate they were to barely scrape by.

“Yeah,” he breathed while releasing the same breathy chortle she did, and instantaneously, his tensed body melted under her loving embrace, realizing that they had somehow gone against the odds, and he was thankful that it was all over.

" Glad your back...and just as cuddly as ever too," he then smiled, the palms of his hands laying on her back, bringing her close while he returned her affection, grateful that he had another moment with her to add to his memories.

'He would have taken you too...' Josuke thought while closing his eyes, ‘ He was so close to taking you...' He added while sniffling, grateful that Kira had left without claiming another innocent life.

Peeking out from over the healer's shoulder, (f/n) then caught sight of the mangaka, observing as his face twisted into frustration, and she wasn't certain if it was fueled by pain or anger.

She noticed he was bloodied too, but couldn't see from where the gore spilled from, and she wondered when he'd arrived.

She asked herself whether or not he'd made it during their fight and had been caught in between as well because he'd seemed to have gone through an entire battle himself.

'Rohan...why do you look so...troubled? So …Beaten?' She wondered with concern, not knowing that the scarlet color that had clung to him so passionately had come from her, unaware that the reason he'd become so tainted by the tint was because of how strongly he'd held her.

He kept her in his arms, his vibrant, green eyes dimmed with horror as he felt how much of her life oozed from her stilled, cooling body.

"(f/n)?" He said softly while gingerly cradling her in a nurturing demeanor that wasn't too difficult to comprehend because by then, any fool could see how much he cared about her.

By then, every bit of the hesitance he showed before was disregarded as he left himself bare, unable to face the situation with anything but the truth.

Swallowing thickly, he let out a soft, weary chuckle as he looked down at her, his thumb gently gliding over the running red that painted her lovely lips.

"...You've made your point already, " He murmured softly as he witnessed the flow of his sorrow trail down the sides of her paling face.

' I can't live without you. ' He mused while he sourly smiled.

"...You're my best friend." He openly admitted to her, the softness in his voice so tender, one would never believe it ever had the viciousness in it to convey his typical arrogance.

' And I don't want to lose you,' He thought while pressing his forehead to hers before huffing out three little words that had knotted in his throat before, but somehow, now found easy to utter in spite of the thickness that clotted his throat,

"I love you..." he huffed, closing his eyes tightly.

Gingerly, the hand that wasn't supporting her trailed over her bruised cheek before holding it,

'Why....Why was it so hard to say before?' he wondered with frustration. 'Why is it that now, now that I finally have it in me to say it...you can't even respond back,' he added, lamenting being so cold with her in the past.

"Can't you hear me?" he asked her softly.

It was then that each and every instance he'd shown her anything but welcome tormented him because he recognized that every second of those memories could have been filled with her smiles instead.

If he hadn't been so bullheaded, then maybe he would have let his pride go for a moment and tell her what he felt.

If he hadn't let her go hours before, then she wouldn't have been in the killer's sight.

If he'd just pulled her back into his home and told her that he wanted her to stay a moment longer, then the outcome would have been different.

"Now, please...just wake up," He compromised with her, " Please...?" He whispered faintly, his voice falling into silence as she stayed still, unstirred by his plea.

And as he continued to speak and beg, the white material of his clothes soaked in the infectious red, letting it creep through the fibers until every thread was replaced with the color of her fleeting life.

And it wasn't long before the murmurs of bargain he released were then drowned out by a familiar voice, and it was at that moment that all of his suffrage evolved into bitter resentment.

' Why do you insist on risking yourself for him...?' Rohan thought with bitterness, witnessing how willingly she leaned into the other male, and much more, how happy she was to see him.

'Don't you get it?' He continued to silently maunder, 'Don't you get that ...eventually...one day...he won't be able to heal you?' he added.

'In the end...he'll lose you too...'

"Rohan..." She breathed, slowly easing away from Josuke, offering him one last smile before her eyes found their entire focus drawn to the irritated male whose sight drew far from hers, finding the rubble of the street more his taste.

His lips were pressed together until his mouth formed a thin, firm line that wouldn't allow a single peep to escape.

'Do you remember any of it?' he then wondered, not knowing which one of his organs had it worse, his twisting stomach of his overworked heart.

Slowly, his face filled with red, and he lost his ability to gaze at her any longer without turning completely vermillion.

Before she could question his sudden fluster, a faint memory of a sweet, sorrowful murmur came forth, and it made her eyes grow wide.

With widely peeled (e/c) colored eyes she gazed at the dejected male before trudging her way to him, all while slowly functioning before happiness flooded her and filled her with giddiness.

'It was you...' She thought with a bursting heart, her hands both flying to her torso to press over her heaving chest.

"Rohan!" she said while suddenly leaping towards him, surprising him with the sudden pounce.

"Rohan! I..." swallowing down thickly she chuckled, hoping it wasn't a delusion of hers.

'I heard... I think I heard you,' She thought with a heavy heart. ' I think that … we feel the same...' She mused while she felt his arms tightly wrapped around her.

She took the risk and pressed her lips to his, quickly discovering that she was accepted by the simple ease he displayed while melted along with her.

As Josuke watched, he took notice of the embrace they shared, observing the longing glow in Rohan’s eyes before they shut tight, taking in the way his hands held her, almost as though there was nothing more precious to him as she was.

"Of all people..." Josuke started, slowly shaking his head at the young woman, unsure of what to tell her, deciding to go with what was most obvious, and could basically sum it all up,

"Rohan...That guy...he's just insufferable," he mumbled lowly, and it made (f/n) giggle.

Rather than be insulted, the young smiled instead,

"He is, isn't he?" She admitted, unable to count all the times the man had made her fume, because, truth be told, he got under her skin more than anyone else could.

"He's insufferable, and kind of full of himself, and don't forget that he can be a real jerk too," She added while looking up at the bright sky.

"He's all of those things," she admitted while continuing to beam, acknowledging Rohan's worst points and accepting them.

"- But he's also sweet," She informed the Joestar descendent.

"When you ask him something, he might say no," She reminded him, " But for the most part, he'll give in, with almost no fight, just an annoyed, little sigh that makes it seem as though he could be doing better things when in reality it's all a front," She informed the listening male.

"It's all a front so you won't see how eager he is to please everyone," She explained.

" And it doesn't come from insecurity," She quickly added with certainty.

"It's not that he wants to be loved by everyone, or needs their validation," She further explained, making certain he grasped the reasoning behind the other man's actions.

"He's just...Well, he just wants to have all the answers, which in turn will help everyone he loves, and cares about, and that is including you." She spoke, and during the last bit, Josuke scoffed.

" He can't stand me!" he said with certainty, " But it's not like I care !" He quickly added. "'Cause it's not like I like the guy either, So it doesn't bother me one bit, " he added with a huff, crossing his arms while trying to seem indifferent.

"You've gotten the best out of him." she started, " - More than once," She then added with sagging shoulders.

"To him, you're a rival. No matter what he says, you're on par with him. And the small admiration he has for you is flushed within that stupid arrogance of his." she sighed, wishing it wasn't so.

"He's just such a sore loser, and what's much worse, he hates having depts., because it means that he's somehow failed," she added, falling into the root of the problem.

"He might seem like he hates you, but if anything were to happen to you, he'd be concerned, " She revealed. "Because, Morioh is his home, and he knows that if anyone is capable of protecting it, it's you," she said while gazing at him with trust, setting the same trust on the youth.

"He wants to be the one to do it...and in his own way he does, but he's well aware that when it comes down to it, you have the strength he lacks," (f/n) continued on.

"He detests it...but at the same time... he's so grateful." She said with amusement, remembering that the only reason she'd come to the conclusion was because Rohan had let just a bit too much of the truth slip out during their talks.

"He seems difficult to understand, but, that's just because you think about it too much. He's not so complex. He's just a bit eccentric and weird, " She said with assurance.

"And weaved within all that strange nature is a good person." She added with a grand smile.

"You could write a whole book on him, huh?" Josuke teased, and she took it in with a bright glow, hanging her head afterward,

"It'd just be a long love letter," She said while grinning stupidly, it being something Josuke threw his head back at.

He laughed, openly teasing her, but silently admiring her at the same time.

'That's what I want,' he then mused.

'Someone like that.

Someone that dedicated.

Someone that's willing to understand me,' He thought while praising the young woman, hoping he'll be lucky enough to have someone as comprehensive and sweet as her one day.

In a sense, it reminded him of his mother and the sweet way she always expressed herself about Joseph Joestar. Granted, the situation hadn't been ideal, but he always smiled when his mom showed her tender side as she recalled the love she still held onto.

Josuke was well aware of how much she'd suffered, but when he'd asked her if she could change it all, she never changed her answer.

She always chose to relive it all, and Josuke accepted it, compromising with himself that even if it ended up in suffrage, he'd be willing to cherish every moment he had with the one person that could give him that same love and understanding.

' That idiot...' Josuke thought to himself, unable to understand how Rohan couldn't see the way her eyes glowed when she looked at him.

'That giant idiot,' He added, feeling insulted on the young woman's behalf whenever the other man showed jealousy towards their friendship, one that he never had any intention to morph into anything else, because it wasn't necessary.

And (f/n) would never dream of it either.

' Isn't it obvious?' He wondered, '(f/n) doesn't see anyone but you, just like, sometimes, you can't see a damn thing besides her,' He added.

For just a split second the two men aligned their eyes together, yet again lively green and bright blue met, though, with a different message sent in between, and it was almost amiable.

The artist's hand held the young woman's, tightly grasping it as he pulled her along before they both stood before the teen.

"Josuke...Higashikata," Rohan said lowly, uttering the name with the same disdain as always,

"You won't hear this from me ever again, " he started before quickly looking back at the darling woman for a quick charge up in inspiration.

"But..." He started, all while still eyeing (f/n), " Thank you." he breathed, trying to keep his face stern, though faltering as he remembered the pitiful state the female had been in moments ago.

"Thank you for healing her," He said with true gratefulness before looking back at the other male.

At a loss for words, Josuke stayed silent before nodding quickly,

'Sure, ' he silently added because he was left blubbering and flustered, having no chance for recovery before Rohan retreated, leaving with the young woman close behind him.

She looked back at him with a halfhearted smile, partially apologizing for not staying any longer, and somewhat sheepish for simply walking away with the other man while Josuke was still injured himself.

But, the Joestar descendent didn’t mind in the least bit.

Granted, Rohan Kishibe wasn't his favorite person in the world, but he made his friend happy, and after the shitty day they'd had, Jojo wasn't going to insist to have her stay with him instead for what was just a couple of stitches he needed.

He then walked over the sidewalk, moving towards a more comfortable spot on the grass to lay on as he heard the blaring sirens ring louder.

With a smile, he looked up at the Morioh sky, and he smiled, grateful that the bizarre summer of 1999 was finally over with.

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buddieisgoingtohappen · 2 years

Text

A/B/O Buddie Fics

New life of Omega Buck (series)

When Omega Buck comes back after the law suit fiasco everyone is pissed, Eddie is especially hurtful towards him. Omegas are extremely sensitive, and if they get too much negative emotions from their loved ones their eyes will become cloudy gray and they'll enter a catatonic state before they slowly die. After months of loneliness, Buck curls up in a bunk at the station. An annoyed Eddie finds him and is terrified by the state Buck is in. He bites Buck and bonds with him to save him

Wolves and Mates and Bears, Oh My!

Omega Buck is set to be married to Alpha Eddie after it is arranged. Eddie is in no mood for romance ever since his first mate Shannon left. Buck is always there for Chris but he gets rejected constantly by Eddie. One night Buck asks Eddie what he can do to get Eddie to accept him. Eddie sarcastically says to get him something like a bear's claw or a cougar heart. The next day Buck has disappeared. Eddie is frantic and Buck finally shows up, what state he's in is up to you

Give Yourself A Try

Buck is an omega, a rare breed. He’s faced adversity all his life, working extremely hard to get to his position at the 118. He doesn’t see the point in searching for an alpha (they’re all narrow-minded idiots anyway), until Eddie Diaz arrives in his life. or, Omega Buck doesn’t believe in love, Alpha Eddie makes it his mission to change that.

Home

Chris snuggling and scenting omega!Buck whenever possible because he smells like love/home/family.

Flames fueling the fight

ABO. Omega Buck is back with the team but they are anything but welcoming. Eddie is the most harsh with him. Buck tries not make amends and it works with everyone else but Eddie's stubborn. After a rough call where Buck almost bites it, Eddie shows up at Buck's place and Buck is done just taking Eddie's crap. They get into this appalling argument that triggers rut in Eddie and heat in Buck. Rage-fueled passion ensues and by the end of it they are irrevocably bound to each other a mates.

This family of mine

5 times the 118 show that they care for Buck, and the one time he shows them. - “People like them,” Buck spits back, voice loud and angry, “Are my family. I’m not just going to stand here and let you talk shit about them and let you walk all over them. They mean the world to me, and I would die before I let them get hurt.

One More Day

Eddie came forward, the first thing that he smelt was near death as the omega was reeking of fear and hate that he wanted to hug the omega but he didn’t want to frighten the omega, first thing first.“Is the omega going to live, Daddy?” Christopher asked, as he looked at his dad.

Nesting

Buck made a nest at Eddies house during the shooting. What happened when Eddie found out?

Tell me why (I wasn't enough)

Buck thought he and Eddie were heading towards becoming mates. He thought that Eddie cared about him, that he loved him. He was wrong. Or was he?

a place we both know

This whole thing is Bobby's fault. He's the one that suggested Eddie apply for the mate matching service, it was his idea to look for an Omega that would love and care for Christopher, to find a mate to be by Eddie's side. Eddie's gonna have to send him a fruit basket or something. It was the greatest idea Bobby's ever had and because of it they now they have Buck in their lives, in their pack and firmly nestled right in Eddie's heart.

how do i take your hand in my unlovable hand and know that i am not a thief?

“You don’t have a scent at all?” “I have it, I just got used not to show it,” Eddie answers and yeah, now Buck can feel that he’s an Alpha. It's a bizarre thing to witness. One moment, Eddie doesn’t smell like anyone and now Buck can clearly catch his scent. Like Eddie has a switch inserted in his glands. Eddie looks around the table again and laughs softly. “I feel like everyone wants me to show off, and no one is brave enough to ask for that”. (Or, Eddie knows that parts of him are broken beyond repair and it would be too selfish to ask Buck to settle for him. He's going to do it anyway.)

to be found

After being mistreated by his alpha for the last time, Buck abandons his pack and heads for the city where he’s found by Eddie - another werewolf who’s nothing like the ones Buck is used to. Eddie is gentle, kind, and has made a pack for himself and his son that Buck desperately wishes he could be a part of.

One Golden Glance of What Should Be

Eddie's perfectly content doing the day-to-day of his abuela's shop when a cute Omega comes in asking for help.

Time to Heal

After Buck found out Bobby was keeping him from work, he went into his nest and didn't come out. What happens when Eddie goes to check on his friend after not hearing from him, and finds out what's been going on?

Love that we wouldn't thought have

“Pheromone Disruption?” Eddie asks incredulously, interrupting Doctor Anderson. In his arms three month old Christopher snuffles and rubs his cold nose into his father’s forearm. Eddie pulls the pup closer to his chest. “Yes, Mr. Diaz,” doctor Anderson gives him a sad smile. Andy has been their family doctor since Eddie himself was a baby. He’s very close to Ramon and knows the situation Eddie is currently in. He knows how his child’s mother left them right after Eddie came from his deployment.

My Alpha

Omega!Eddie and Chris first nests at Buck’s house

You can't leave me

Eddie and Buck are mates. After the tsunami, Eddie is overwhelmed when Buck shows up without Chris. He sends Buck away. When Eddie finds Chris afterwards he realizes what a terrible mistake he made. Buck gives himself up. Sent away too many times in his life, he hides in a cave to die. Eddie does everything to get his mate back.

Nesting-Alternate Version

Buck made a nest at Eddie's house during the shooting. Eddie was okay with it and even helped Buck feel more at home in his house. But what happened when Ana found out?

Of Heats and Firefighters

Eddie and Christopher are away for a wedding, and Buck can finally go through his mandatory heat. Things aren't going as planned.

bond with you

Buck and Eddie are dating, but Eddie hasn't bonded with Buck yet, which brings out some of Buck's insecurities.

I’m Begging you to be my Escape

Buck's parents despise him for being an omega, Maddie the only one who loves him. Buck is devastated when he learns that his parents have arranged for him to bond with a member of Alpha prime Bobby's pack, a secondary alpha named Eddie. Buck is terrified and doesn't even meet Eddie till the bonding ceremony. Eddie himself is apprehensive since Shannon's abandonment. They bond and Buck adores Chris but he and Eddie have a long road ahead.

Wish I was anything else

Buck was born an Alpha but he never felt like he was one, he wanted to be anything else. This issue was never a big problem before, that's until he realizes he has feelings for his best friend who is also an Alpha. They could never be together right? That's not possible or is it?

home and safe

Buck's parents have found him a new alpha, after his last alpha didn't work out. Maddie's not happy, and neither is Buck. But, when Buck meets his new alpha, he realizes that this alpha may not be like most alpha's he's met in the past.

i kinda want to be more than friends (so take it easy on me.)

Buck stays with Eddie while he recovers and when he goes back to work, he reeks of Eddie's scent.

The Stray Pup

Buck's a lone wolf and an Alpha, the last person who should end up with a pup… and yet, now he has one.

(I don't want) no one else

Snapshots of their life together before and after Eddie works up the courage to tell Buck that he’s Christopher’s father. He gets there. Eventually. Or… Eddie is 20 and on a military base in the Middle East when he meets a 19 year old Navy Seal. He has big news to share when they find each other seven years later.

Curled Up In The Nest

Chris asks to join Buck and Eddie in the nest. Chris ends up regretting it, but only a little bit.

Blind To Everyone But You

Eddie Diaz knew that Evan Buckley was his mate the first time he met him, but he's married with a son, and Buck doesn't seem interested. So, Eddie resolves to be his work-partner and friend at the very least. Evan Buckley thought the way he felt when he first met Eddie was a fight or flight response, not his body telling him that Eddie was his alpha. After a long-awaited conversation, they agree to take it slow and get to know each other in a new way. That is, until Chris' pretty English teacher sets her sights on Eddie, and Buck suddenly has to face the thought of losing what he's always wanted....

Only you can save me

After the grocery store argument, omega Buck feels rejected by his pack.

Last updated: 12/13/23

#buckley diaz family #buddie 911 #buddie #eddie diaz #imagine prompts #edmundo diaz #evan buck buckely #evan buckley x eddie diaz #eddie diaz x evan buckley #evan buckley #911 on fox

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comfyswitcherblanketfort · 2 years

Text

All I Ask

This is ‘last night together’ for @thewitcherbog Angst Bingo card! It’s my first bingo and its quite fun so far! also thanks to @geraltrogerericduhautebellegarde for the beta and validation

Pairing: Yenralt

CW: i mean. its based off All I Ask by Adele so theres that, Yennefer want’s to break the djinn magic and there’s the whole ‘unknown’ of whether or not they’ve been living a lie for decades.

__________________________

“So it's actually possible?” Geralt’s voice sounded smaller than Yennefer had ever heard it. Even when they’d thought they’d lost their daughter, he’d kept his strength, bolstered it with anger, but this? He was helpless. And he knew they both were.

Yennefer swallowed hard and nodded, handing Geralt the letter with directions to where and how they could lift the djinn magic that had held them so close for so many years, “It is.”

The defeat and fear was clear in Geralt’s face as he read over the letter. She knew he was scared and riddled with guilt, and to be fair, so was she, but she needed to know. Even if it broke both of their hearts, even if it only broke hers.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured, wiping his hand over his face as he set the paper down.

Biting back her anger, Yennefer kept her tone as neutral as possible, “I know.”

“No- I really am. I didn’t-”

“I know Geralt. I’ve heard your thoughts on the matter a thousand times. I still need to know. I need,” she paused to take a calming breath before she launched into another rage fueled lecture, her voice cracking as she finished her thought, “I need to know if I love you… if y-you…”

“I do.”

“You don’t know that,” She snapped, snatching the letter off the table he was sat at and pacing as she read it over for the millionth time. She’d memorized it down to the punctuation days ago, but it took twice as long to get the courage to show Geralt. The idea that he really could have loved Triss or the poor broken hearted poet sickened her, both with jealousy and guilt. In the end, she wanted her choice. She always wanted her choice.

Geralt stood and slowly walked to her side, gently brushing her hair over her shoulder, “I love you right now. I want to love you.”

“What if I don’t? Hm? What if neither of us do? Who are we to turn to? What-” Yennefer turned away, blinking tears away as she nearly gagged on her vulnerability, “What if I never love again?”

Her words hung in the air for far too long. She could barely breathe as she fought her tears and cursed her own stubbornness. Geralt stood in silence, his hand resting on her shoulder as his thumb brushed gently back and forth over the soft fabric of her sleeves. His touch was always so calming, grounding even in her earliest memories of him. But how much of that was genuine and how much was the djinn magic coloring her perceptions?

With a deep shuddering breath she turned to him, resting her hands on his chest and letting herself lean into the comfort she found, “If this is to be our last night, at least hold me like your lover. Like I’m not just your friend. Please?”

The frown Geralt wore couldn’t disguise the want in his eyes, nor the tears or thickness to his voice when he spoke, “You think that will help? Pretending we aren’t scared?”

A tear trickled down Yennefer’s cheek as she bit her lip and nodded, “Something to remember… if…” She couldn’t say it, but Geralt knew.

When he kissed the tear from her cheek she felt something break deep in her gut, sliding her hand up his neck to tangle in his hair for what could be the last time. Never in her life had she been so distraught by a relationship ending. Not with her most passionate flings, not with Istredd, no one. It mattered how this ended, she realized, as Geralt laid her down on what they had called their bed for years. On what could only belong to her come the morning.

#yenralt #yenralt fic #the witcher bog bingo #angst card #yenralt angst #the witcher #yennefer fic #the witcher fic #geralt fic #yennefer of vengerberg #geralt of rivia #last night together #the witcher angst fic #im so glad i had a good excuse to use an adele song #i have reached my truest form

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strangeinternetwasteland · 3 years

Text

Hopeless Devotion- Sasuke X GN Reader 18+

A/N: This is my first submission for the @konoblog-simps day 3 server collab. Doesn’t follow any part of the anime. This takes place after Shippuden, but before, Boruto.

Warnings: Sex implied, giving oral, alcohol

WC: 867

In the morning light, he looked so soft and vulnerable. He was perfect right now. The angry storm of his emotions last night was not evident on his sleeping face. You didn’t dare move in fear of waking him. He had come home in a fit of rage, that even you were unable to quell. You tried your best to not anger him anymore, but your presence seems to have made everything worse.

You went to bed alone last night. You woke up with him cuddling you. Looking at his dark hair contrasting his pale skin made your insides coil. He looked perfect in the early morning light. You placed kisses along his stomach and chest. He stirred momentarily and fell back asleep. You placed a few kisses on his cheek and got up for the day.

As you made your way to the kitchen, you thought about the terrible words he’d told you last night in his drunken stupor. He didn’t mean what he had said, you told yourself, but you knew that those thoughts weighed on his mind for a long time. You pulled out a few ingredients to start breakfast when a pair of arms wrapped around you, followed by a kiss at the nape of your neck.

“Good Morning.” A groggy voice croaked behind you. You stood where you were in front of the stovetop to begin breakfast. It was a rare sight to see him looking so pleasant in the morning, that for a brief second you believed you were dreaming.

“Morning.” You said back to him as you started up the coffee and got the pan ready for breakfast. He held you tight for another moment and then let you go. As he sat down while you prepared breakfast it was evident that your boyfriend wanted to talk.

“About last night…” He began. You didn’t want to talk about it. You could pretend that he didn’t mean the words he said. It was easier for you to just pretend last night never happened. You knew where it would lead. It wasn’t the first time it happened, and it had ended terribly then. You two were getting along and everything was going well, until last night.

“ Are we going to do this again?” You asked him with anger in your voice. The sizzle of butter on the pan fueling your rage inside.

“No.” He shook his head saying the word trying to tread lightly. “I am sorry about last night.” You rolled your eyes, knowing how this was going to go. When he came to you asking for your forgiveness, you believed him. You thought he’d actually try harder this time, but once again alcohol had taken over and his lips were loose.

“I said some terrible things last night while drunk. I have no excuse for that. Seeing you talking to others, looking happy.” He huffed. “I don’t know. When we broke up the first time, I was okay at first, but after a few weeks apart…” He trailed off. You knew how stubborn he truly was. You finished breakfast without much more conversation. You placed a plate before him and ate in silence. You quickly stood up and started cleaning the mess from breakfast. He got up a few minutes after you. As you washed dishes, he put his head on your shoulder.

“I don’t want to be without you again.” He mumbled into your shoulder as he kissed your shoulder to your neck. You turned to face him. Your face was unreadable to him.

“What exactly do you want?” You questioned him. You were angry. You tried to hide it as best you could.

“I want you.” He told you as he leaned in for a kiss, and pulled you in closer. “I know you’re angry at me. Rightly so, but I meant it when I say I want you.” He kissed you again, this time deeper as his tongue entwined with yours, you pushed him against the closest wall. His hands were all over your body. Whenever he told you that he wanted you, something inside of you screamed. You wanted any part of him you could get inside you. As you scrambled to get his pants off, you got on your knees. You couldn’t deny the hardened length before you. As you took him in your mouth, he grabbed your hair and started pulling. You moaned as you started sucking and licking the length of him.

“God, you feel so good.” He moaned, leaning his head back against the wall. He took your head and pushed himself deeper inside your throat. Tears formed in your eyes, but you weren’t about to stop. As fucked up as it was, you knew you loved him. After a few more moments of him throat fucking you, you felt thick ropes coating your throat. He was out of breath but wore a small smile.

“Let me take care of you, and show you how much I love you.” He said hoarsely into your ear.

“Sasuke-” he stopped you with another passionate kiss. He grabbed your hand and took you into the bedroom. You weren’t going to stop him, not now anyway.

#uchiha smut #uchiha Sasuke #Sasuke x y/n #Sasuke x gn reader #sasuke uchiha x you #server collab #sasuke hot

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ddarker-dreams · 3 years

Note

i would love the chrollo x phantom troupe darling !! anything you wrote especially if it’s something youre passionate about is something worth reading <33

i appreciate it a lot anon <333 i actually started up the first chapter for the project. i feel excited to work on a series, it’s exceedingly rare that i feel the motivation to work on a multi-chaptered fic. this idea is smth i’ve been fleshing out since i originally watched hxh in 2016 so i want to do it justice!

this is just from one of the sheets of lore relating to reader and general story JHNTEKGMR originally, it was meant to be an OC, but i like reader-inserts and i’m more used to writing them. reader’s journey is pretty integral to the story which takes place 3-4 years before the main events of hxh. her and chrollo make for an interesting pair.

i kinda... designed an entire country just for this story . ahahaha..... what is wrong with me 😭

ANYWAYS the story portion itself is still very rough but i love giving previews so yknow what. preview time from chapter 1.

“You left me for dead.” A deep voice draws you from your thoughts. You look to your side, Phinks glowering down at you with what he must intend to be a killer glare.

“You look alive to me,” comes your natural response. He sighs, fists clenching and unclenching by his side in an attempt to quell his budding rage. Phinks makes it evident that he hates these social events even if it is related to a job. Not that you can blame him, there’s little enjoyment to be found amongst people who have more wealth than sense. Ironic as it may be for you to think that.

“Our definitions of alive must vary greatly,” he tugs at the collar of his shirt and grimaces. “What’s taking Fei so long, anyway? He was supposed to contact us fifteen minutes ago.”

It’s not like you have any way of knowing, but adding fuel to the fire with a sarcastic response isn’t a bright idea. “Perhaps the target isn’t cooperating?”

“Unlikely. The poor bastard didn’t look to be particularly stubborn.” Phinks sighs, cursing under his breath once more. You get the unspoken message. The longer Feitan takes with extracting the information, the longer you’ll be stuck intermingling with this miserable crowd. Phinks already looks to be at his limit, yet you’re fine other than the underlying irritation. This is nothing. You’ve had to entertain these types of folks for days on end, a couple of hours isn’t going to do you in.

Your lips part to offer a new course of action, only to be cut off by Phinks’ phone ringing in his breast pocket. He pulls it out with a renewed vigor, likely hoping for word from Feitan, answering and putting it to his ear.

“Did you get the— oh, boss. Sorry ‘bout that,” he purses his lips and looks to you. “Yeah, she’s here. Alright. I’ll tell her.”

also, some of my notes about reader:

pan (one of her exes pops up in the story...)

conjurer

spoke very formally when she first joined the troupe, a few members were thrown off by this

comes from a highly prestigious and wealthy family in her country

what i’d call traditionally smart, excelled in her tutoring but is out of touch with regular people as a result.

has met illumi once or twice in passing. thought he was, and i quote, “A walking corpse” at first.

#previews #sweet asks #answered #Anonymous

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bjy-on-ao3 · 3 years

Text

Fic Friday: Hungry Like The Wolf

As usual, you can find the AO3 version of all my uploads [and some things I don’t post here to tumblr] via my Masterlist blog page.)

Bit of a suspension of belief involved in the setup here. I don’t really have a viable reason WHY this would be happening here, but it felt like the best place for this particular concept, so bear with me. Title is after the Duran, Duran song, because the lyrics seemed fitting on the surface, and the name ends being kind of punny.

(Also a thank you to Petaldances for basically beta'ing this for me and catching all my weird little mistakes.)

Summary Reader gets caught up in a passionate and primal game with a certain detective turned Phantom Thief.

Tags/Warnings

Biting, Creampie, Metaverse, Metaverse S*x, Outdoor S*x, Persona 5 Strikers Spoilers, Predator/Prey, Reader-Insert, Rough S*x, Shameless Smut, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal S*x

Hungry Like The Wolf (F! Reader/Zenkichi Hasegawa)

You couldn’t count how long it had been since you started running. Had it been a minute? Five? Fifteen? You weren’t sure. Time was the last thing on your mind as you bolted down the empty streets. All that was on your mind was to run as far and fast as you could. All you had to go on was the burning in your legs and chest and the swiftly passing city blocks.

You stopped, spinning in place so quickly it nearly made you dizzy, and you stumbled, catching yourself before you toppled over. Your eyes darted about wildly, heart pounding in your chest and your breath coming in out in short, panting puffs. Even if you didn’t know how long you had run for, you had to have at least gained a good deal of headway, right? There was no sign of anyone or anything around you, save for the eerie atmosphere of the metaverse itself. No people, no shadows, no nothing, simply you and the silence of a false city. Though still you felt unsettled, ever sense wired and on alert, waiting for when the silence would shatter into a million fragile pieces.

It was the sound of boot heels scuffing the pavement that broke the silence and set you off again, bolting off down the route you thought best with a quick glance. Yet the sound of boots didn’t die away, as it had when you had first ran, no matter how hard you pushed yourself. No, it echoed in your ears, growing louder and clearer even, and you willed yourself to run faster, lest the game come to an abrupt end. But even with the added talents that came with the strange world of cognition, you could only run so fast and so far before you were caught. Your last choice was to hide, even if it there was no true escape. The thought of capture made your heart drum a somehow heavier rhythm, and wracked your body with pins and needles of adrenaline.

Even if hiding was likely to be a fruitless effort in the end, you had to try. You couldn’t give up without exhausting every avenue available to you and using every bit of your wits. You had no other choice either, not when the sound of your tail was so hot in pursuit, and steadily gaining no matter how much ground you covered. At this rate, it would be only a couple minutes, if you were lucky, before your pursuer caught up with you.

You veered sharply, ducking and weaving past cars and light posts and distorted obstacles otherwise out of place in a typical cityscape. With one final burst of speed, you sprinted through a narrow alley and past the corners of several buildings. Finally, you spied a small alcove amongst one of the building exteriors, and hurriedly tucked yourself into it and the shadows it provided. You flattened yourself back against the bricks, trying to blend in with the darkness. You covered your mouth and nose with one gloved hand to suppress the ragged breaths spilling from your lips, and cast your gaze warily out on the cognitive city.

For an instant, all was still, though the sounds that alerted you to your pursuer’s presence were evident nearby even then. Your breath stalled in your throat as you watched him come into sight, slowing from a run to a cautious walk. Clad from head to toe in black leather and silver trim and metal, he cut an imposing figure. Your eyes lingered over the various weapons strapped and holstered on his person, adding a greater air of menace, before turning your attention to his masked face. Even with the mask, you could tell he was watching keenly, searching for even the tiniest sign of where you had gone. You thought your heart might erupt from your chest when he looked straight at you, or rather straight at your hiding place. You didn’t dare make a sound, didn’t dare breathe, didn’t dare even blink, lest he find you somehow.

But he looked away, and you could breathe again, still trying to stifle it against your palm. You couldn’t make yourself move a muscle yet, though. Not until he broke into a jog again, and then a sprint, heading down the block. You waited in your hiding spot a while longer, wanting to be positive he was far gone enough that you could no longer hear him anywhere nearby. Finally, you withdrew from your cover, eyes wide as if if it would help you peer more easily through the dusky light. Your heart raged in your chest, unwilling to calm down, and your mouth was dry, your body hot and tingly and jittery all over.

You swept the area once, twice, three times, and nothing met your eyes. Nor did anything alert your ears. A light fog was settling over the area, making it hard to see very far away. Though the same fog would likely impair his sight, too. Staying on edge, you went about getting your bearings to head back to your rendezvous point. Your thought processes were abruptly interrupted, however, by the sudden gnawing sense you weren’t alone anymore. The hair on the back of your neck and arms stood on end, and you whirled in place once more, coming face-to-face, or mask-to-mask, rather, with the man clad in archaic black leather and metal.

Instinctively, you tried to make a break for it. But he seemed to have been expecting that, and before you could dart away again, resuming the chase, his arms lashed out. He caught you half-turned, looping his arms around your midsection and pulling you fast against you. You squirmed and struggled for a moment against the tight embrace, gloved fingers digging roughly but uselessly into the leather of his clothes and failing to accomplish much. His strength suppressed yours, and his hold was a vice you couldn’t pry apart. All your effort gained you was knocking off the wide-brimmed hat topping his head. You stopped, deciding to save your energy, eyeing the man with full attention.

“You know, you’re a lot faster than you look.” His voice was smooth and level, as if he hadn’t been pelting after you in hot pursuit for god knows how long. “But being fast isn’t enough,” he informed you, releasing part of his hold to reach up and pull down the sharply angled mask hiding his face. Mischief and satisfaction gleamed in the dark eyes behind it.

The cocky tone in his voice reinvigorated your will to escape, out of sheer stubbornness or a second wind, you weren’t sure. You punished against his grasp again suddenly, weakened now that he held onto you with only one arm. His mask slipped through his fingers and tumbled to the ground when you tried to take advantage of the perceived moment of overconfidence. But his hand snapped out in a flash, and the arm still wrapped around you squeezed tighter. His fingers curled back to grasp the base of your skull, catching in your hair. Between the strengthened coil of his arm and the new grip above your neck, your chances of breaking free became even more abysmal in an instant.

“It’d be enough for someone who doesn’t know me, Wolf,” you argued. Your words sounded irritable and casual, though the thundering pulse in your ears threatened to block out your voice.

“Shame for you I do then, huh?” Wolf - or Zenkichi, as you knew outside the confines of the metaverse - sounded very pleased with himself.

Between the smooth sound of his voice and how close you were caught against him, the tingling feeling of adrenaline that had rolled through you before during the chase had morphed into something stronger, though just as primal. Ravenous and hot, it let you tense and burning up, waiting to see what would happen next.

He didn’t give you time to retort to his quip, spinning around with you still held tight in his grasp. He leapt forward, and the world lurched and shifted, until you felt the familiar scrape and snag of rugged stone catching your clothes. You were breathless as Zenkichi leaned in, releasing you from his embrace in favor of caging you in against the building wall with his body. A sidelong glance revealed you were back in the alcove you had hidden in before. Looking to Zenkichi, wearing a grin that was equal parts knowing and cheeky, told you he had been well aware of your hiding spot. He had known where you were as soon as he looked straight toward you.Failing to notice you had been only a pretense to lure you into letting down your guard. You had walked right into his hands.

But there was little time to dwell on your mistakes; the hunt had come to a close, and it was time for the hunter to indulge in his prey. Zenkichi reminded you of that clearly as he bent down with his fingers remaining snared in your hair, using his grip to coax your head back. He left a trail of fervent kisses and sharp nips along your throat, left bare by your outfit. Beaten in your game, you gave in, leaning back against the brick, letting him pin your body there. And arching into the fiery touch of his lips. He said nothing, but as his lips skated over your pulse, hammering in your throat, you felt his lips quirk. A satisfied smile that was forgotten about as quickly as it had come as he continued to ravage your neck.

It wasn’t long before the assault on your skin turned you into a mewling mess pushed against the stone, plaint and hot under his lips. There was a fervor fueling the press of his lips, the stroke of his tongue, the pinch of his teeth. The same fervor burning in you as well, roaring through you and boiling your blood. The unyielding buckles of his several belts were hard and unpleasant, pressing into you so forcefully, but another hardness stood out as well, one far more pleasant and enticing.

Your hips twitched reflexively against his when a well-placed bit made you moan openly into the empty air. A hiss slipped through Zenkichi’s lips, and his actions paused for an instant, before renewing with a vigor. The new effort made you cry out all over again. But he was only satisfied with the small tastes of kisses and bites for so long. He was hungry for so much more, and you were all too pleased to surrender and let him devour you.

The world whirled again, and your eyes shot wide with surprise for a second, before Zenkichi’s hand between your shoulders pressed you forward, back against the wall, pinning you place once more. Your cheek and chest met the stone, your mask shielding you from some of the scrape of the bricks, and you stilled again. A shudder of anticipation rolled through you at the slow creep of his hand lower, and lower, tracing over the curve of your back and the swell of your ass. The wandering hand moved back up, joining its twin and curling beneath the waist of your pants, and tugging them down swiftly.

Your own hands, now lying flat against the bricks, dug at the rough service when his hands inched back up, one stopping to roughly knead a handful of your ass, while the other cupped your center through damp panties. Two leather-clad fingers hooked beneath the fabric, pushing it aside before disappearing past it and between your lips, searching. They found their quarry smoothly enough, sinking into your hole to the knuckles, before pumping in and out. A whine a murmured ‘ fuck ’ burst from you, and you clung to the wall tighter, desperate for something the latch onto, even if the abrasive surface made your fingertips sting.

The finger-fucking didn’t last very long though, enough to make you needy and tense, and when he withdrew his fingers from your slick cunt you managed to turn your gaze back and peek at him. You swallowed hard and your pussy throbbed when th sight of him putting two fingers to his lips met your eyes, the material glistening with your wetness. He cleaned each finger quickly, at the same time seeming to relish the taste of you on the leather.

His glance met yours, pupils dilated so wide you could barely made out the color beyond them, hunger and ardor boring into you. It was a wild and intense expression, borne from the cocktail of lust and adrenaline the lust had filled you bow with; one you hadn’t seen before on Zekichi’s face. But it wasn’t frightful, save for perhaps how much it ignited your own desire. Unabled to hold his gaze any longer, you turned back to eye the bricks, another shiver wracking you.

The crunch of leather and the clink of metal behind you made you even more taut with excitement, and you squeezed your thighs together to quiet the demanding ache between them as you waited. The mood was running too hot - searing you both - for you to need to wait very long, though. Even that brief wait felt like far too much, far too long long in your heated mind and surely in his.

You nearly groaned in relief as the thick head of his cock pushed through your soaked lips, and you weren’t sure how you resisted the urge to slam your hips back and impale yourself on his length. Greedy hands latched onto your hips, fingertips digging hard into your skin with each new inch that entered you. A sharp inhale and a heady, feral groan drew your attention, but you didn’t dare capture that primal gaze again, not when you were already so on edge. You might explode from the sheer desire coursing through you if you chanced it.

Hallways inside, Zenkichi threw any shred of remaining patience to the wind, rolling his hips forward and sheathing himself the rest of the way inside, jostling you against the wall. You ignored the jolt and the burn in your fingertips, clinging to the bricks as if they were your lifeline. The only thing on your mind was the length of him buried hard and deep inside, the fullness complemented by a hot ache. He leaned forward, his body pushing more flush against yours, pressing his lips back to your neck.

Words ghosts over your skin, muffled, and when they reached you, they were gravelly and breathless, but shaky. “Didn’t think you’d be so into this.” The words were quiet, almost as if he were speaking to himself rather than you. “Fuck, didn’t think I’d be so into this.” The rest came as an afterthought, punctuated by a growling moan.

You couldn’t bring yourself to refute his words, even silently, nor did you want to. Your moans half-stifled by the bricks were enough on their own, not even considering your inability to think about much else other than his dick driving in and out of you.

His hips rocked harder, faster, and his breath grew heavier, broken when he pressed more sloppy bites and kisses to your skin. Some were careless enough that might have caused you to wince, had you been in a less aroused state of mind. As it was, each new sensation, whether painful or enjoyable, blended together into a swirling ball of desire and heat that made you more lost with each one. The desperate rut of him against you, the tight grip on your hips sure to leave a few finger-shaped marks, and the smothering heat of his body, contrasting with the cool, rough stone in places where your bare skin touched it. It was all pushing you faster and faster towards the peak and threatening to shove you over.

Beyond the pair of you, the world stayed silent and still, shattered by the myriad of shamelessly obscene sounds pouring from your mouth and Zenkichi’s. The rustle of leather joined the sound of skin slapping together rhythmically and the gasp of panting breath. He was saying something in your ear, something you couldn’t quite make out, unsure whether it was a curse or praise or complete gibberish. You cried out his name, or rather, the name you were supposed to call him then, ‘ Wolf’. The word rolled so easily off your tongue, again and again, like some strange prayer.

Everything was adding up, your breathing shorter and more ragged, and you couldn’t keep yourself from grinding back into every hard thrust. A sharp, unexpected slap on your ass made you hiss between your teeth, but otherwise just encouraged you to buck back into him with more enthusiasm. Your belly and the muscles in your thighs felt so achingly tense, and your legs quivered beneath you. You found yourself fleetingly thankful the weight of his body held you to the wall. The thought was swept away though as the sensations peaked, and you weren’t sure if you could it much longer.

In a single, smooth motion, Zenkichi wrapped one arm around your waist, his fingertips skimming over your skin until the gloved digits found your clit, rubbing quick, tight circles. It was the final puzzle piece you needed to come undone, nearly screaming your satisfaction to the empty block. Zenkichi cursed into your shoulder, your cunt intent on enticing him to spill himself inside of you and join you in ecstasy. By the pitch of his hot breath, and the several following crass words, he was having a hard time resisting it.

His fingers stroked you through your orgasm, the waves of bliss ebbing into oversensitive pulses that made you squirm and try not to thrash your head against the stone, whimpering. His hands stiffened and stilled with his hips as he finished, a few last thrusts pumping you so full of cum that when he stopped moving, a warmth trickled down one of your inner thighs.

You whined when he moved to pull back, unsure if you were protesting his withdrawal or how it made you shudder with lingering oversensitivty. Zenkichi rested a hand on your shoulder after pulling out, and you felt his breath washing over your skin, making goosebumps rise on it all over again. You were loathe to move and shattered the serene, exhausted moment, and the pleasant haze that accompanied it. But there was a time to bask and relax, and you could do that later, once you had taken your leave from the metaverse.

Zenkichi stepped back, and you heard him redoing his belts and adjusting and smoothing his own outfit. You turned to face him, slowly, leaning against the wall and holding onto the bricks to ensure you stayed on your feet. You realized your mask was crooked, half on, half off of your face, surely thanks to the position you had been in.

When he looked up from tucking himself away and sorting out his clothes, Zenkichi’s face twisted into an expression of concern, a hint of guilt tinging the look. You matched the expression with one of confusion, unsure what was its cause. “What’s that look for? What’s wrong?” you asked worriedly, though it came out tired and soft. You glanced all around you, unable to discern what had made him so concerned.

“Shit, can’t you feel it. Your cheek.. and your hands.” he began, and you lifted one hand, palm up to see what was trying to get across.

Looking at your palm, you realized what had caused his distress. The stone had taken more of a toll on your hands than you had noticed in the moment. You winced, out of reflex rather than real pain, the high of your orgasm still faintly lingering and dulling your own concerns. They were going to hurt tomorrow though, you were sure of that. Reaching up to your face gingerly, you found it was similarly scraped and scuffed, though only on the side your mask had been askew.

“Ah, it’s fine, it’ll heal.. and it was totally worth it,” you dismissed, trying to dissuade the guilt mixed with the concern.

“Are you sure I didn-”

“I promise, I’m alright,” you interrupted him before he could fuss any more. You had wanted your little game as much as him, maybe more, and you weren’t going to let either of you regret it over a few scrapes and bruises.

“We should get out here though,” you noted, at least fixing your own clothes. “That was fun, but we probably shouldn’t stick around.”

#zenkichi hasegawa #persona 5 #persona 5 strikers #archive of our own #fanfiction #writing #ao3 #reader-insert #fic friday #nsft #N/s/f/w

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