#his ego was way too big and he was cruel to her | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sexbot300 · 13 days

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౨ৎ ˖ ࣪⊹ rival!gojo head-canons

contents: 18+, mdni. rivals to (maybe) lovers. slight fluff, suggestive, crack, slight angst if you squint, smut. gojo satoru x reader.

tw: mentions of sex. actual descriptions of it. suggestive talk. unprotected sex p in v. oral. pet names. degradation. humiliation. satoru being somewhat of an (loving) ass.

a/n: i literally forgot how much i love writing head-canons. i left this one on a cliffhanger on purpose teehee lolz. thank you so so so much for the followers and support i'm getting. luv to hear your feedback! ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

rival!gojo who has his patience and ego tested the minute he found out who you were.

rival!gojo who finds it endearing that someone other than him is on par with being the strongest. if endearing meant slightly blood-boiling.

rival!gojo who only heard word that you can “maybe” beat him in a fight and he “maybe” holding that as a grudge.

rival!gojo who sees you for the first time and his brain does a hard-factory reset.

rival!gojo who only laughs to himself that the world is cruel for making his own “arch-enemy” the hottest thing he’s ever set his eyes on.

rival!gojo who was starstruck, he knew that he had to know everything about you, for “research reasons.”

rival!gojo whos first encounter with you went something along the lines of:

“heard you’re the strongest.” “funny, heard the same thing about you.” “try not to die.” “are you kidding? and hand you over the title like a fucking crown?”

rival!gojo who jokes with your own students about joining the winning side, leaving you to be taught by him.

rival!gojo who will never admit that he lovessssssssssss that someone is as strong as he is, contradicting any bit of “malice” he has towards you.

rival!gojo who won't hesitate to call you, “princess” to mock you. truthfully, he’s mocking himself knowing that deep down he wouldn’t mind calling you that in all seriousness.

rival!gojo who purposely sits across from you in important meetings, taking any and every opportunity to speak to you. arms crossed over his chest while smiling. “dont get why i'm here really. look at her, she’s a big girl. i probably can leave the jujutsu world and it’ll be just fineeeee.”

rival!gojo who knows that the world needs him, but wants to be showered in compliments that prove he’s better. he only glances your direction, “ah, but if i leave, who will keep you on your toes?”

rival!gojo who after many, many years has this “relationship” with you that consists of; sly comments, wandering eyes, and moments that leave you both questioning the other.

rival!gojo who knows your favorite color, season, show, drink, how you like your toast charred— what? he’s just getting to know his “enemy” a bit more, relax.

rival!gojo who knows that you’re both the strongest, so it’s a ticking time bomb of who caves in first.

rival!gojo who no one can ever tell if you guys fucking hated each other or were just straight up fucking.

rival!gojo who purposely turns off his limitless near you, making excuses that “you’re no threat” to him. he secretly wants you to touch him because it means he’ll get to touch you.

rival!gojo who will never miss the opportunity to pass snide comments:

“ms. superhero is here, everyone clear way.” “not enough room on this earth for your ego alone, gojo.” “please, call me satoru.” “hm? why is that?” “just want you to memorize the name of the person who’ll beat you one day.” “if you’re trying to be sly with your insults, doing a terrible job.” “princess, it’s not classified as insults if it’s the truth.” “would it make you happy if i just infatuated your self-worth like everyone else?” “there’s a lot you can do that can make me happy actually. start off by shutting up, maybe?”

rival!gojo who is constantly told to stop provoking you as the higher-ups know if you both take it too far, an actual war will break out. “gojo, behave yourself.” he only pouts, arms crossed over his chest, “whattttt? I’m being as friendly as i can be!”

rival!gojo who overhears the higher-ups scold you for replying back to his comments that are on equivalent with his childish behavior. “don’t entertain that idiot.” you only blink dumbfounded, “he started it! i’m nothing but kind and he's just a dumbass with too much power.”

rival!gojo who actually knows every little detail he wanted to about you. If it was your technique, dirt on you, your weaknesses, believe he’ll already know. “still keeping tabs on me?” “i don't understand, even if i was, we’re supposed to be working together sweetheart.” he only snickers, “although, you wish you mattered that much.” eliciting an eye-roll from you.

rival!gojo who actually finds you funny. someone who can keep up with him in all categories? yup, he’s making you his one way or another. you’re either the greatest blessing to occur to him or the reason he believes love truly is a curse.

rival!gojo who does find out if you’re attracted to someone or not and keeps a bit of an eye on who you’re interested in. by no means will he stop you from pursuing who you want, you deserve to feel happiness even if it isn’t with him. even if it means if it’s short-lived happiness, it was enough for a sorcerer who’s life-span is a guessing game. but he’s greedy. he’s selfish. he doesn’t want anyone else to take you, and he won’t directly interfere, but don’t think he isn’t pulling ropes in the back.

rival!gojo who’s been your secret admirer for a while now, making sure to purposely get you gifts no man outside of his own status can ever top off. even if they were in his own status, he’ll quickly prove that he IS the Gojo Satoru and no one can top that off. if he can't outright admit he wants you, his pseudo-identity will. who do you think bought you those bouquets that swarmed your house that one valentine?

rival!gojo who notices that you’re wearing the pricey bracelet he bought you, snickering softly, “wow? the evil witch managed to successfully cast her spell in making someone like her?” glancing his direction, noticing a smug look on his face as his chin rests on his palm. “dunnooo gojo, maybe you’re not the only one here people find attractive.” you state, eyeing the handsome face of a man who would eat that shit up if you admitted it out loud. with a shit-eating grin, he spoke, “oh so you find me attractive?” unamused in a softer tone, “never said that, never will.” clicking his tongue, a deeper grin stretched out his pink lips. “you’ll come around eventually.”

rival!gojo who noticed that the bracelet didn’t have a cute necklace to accompany it, making a mental notice.

rival!gojo who isn’t actually your rival, he knows that you know he doesn’t have a big ego that you use as a cheap jab. there’s an unspoken mutual solidarity between you two, maybe the faux rivalry and self-worth being tested was a result of a fake relief you both fell in. maybe you can both pretend that all is well in this world. labeled the title of the strongest places all the responsibilities on both of your shoulders. he feels for you that this life isn’t kind to you or him and he feels a pang of guilt knowing that what’s expected of him, is expected of you too. does he hate you at all? never. does he hate knowing that someone else is burdened with the same path as him? more than anything.

rival!gojo who doesn’t understand why you’re still fighting. he has wealth, good looks, a huge dick, a sense of humor and is the not only the strongest but is a clan head. why don’t you just let him take care of you instead? why don't you end up in his arms at the end of the day? why don’t you let him massage the knots in your back and clean up dried-up wounds? why don't you unravel in a bath with him as you lay on his chest, playing with his fingers? why don’t you let him try the same sweets he really likes? why don’t you just let him occupy your world like you have with his?

rival!gojo who won't simply go at it with you like teenagers, he wants to see who will fall into the trap of falling for their rival first. he notices the way your eye lingers on his lips for a split second, or your face that paints that you feel tempted to bite the apple that god forbade you to. he wasn’t an idiot, and neither were you. he wasn’t physically keeping a distance from you more often because he was repulsed from you, no, it was quite the opposite. he knew that if given certain stances, he’d lose all control. but gojo didn’t want that, this was a game. he had to win. It wasn’t about a title anymore, it was about you. he had to win you.

౨ৎ ˖ ࣪⊹

rival!gojo who has sexual tension with you that can be cut with a knife, making everyone in the room shift in their seats.

rival!gojo who just eyes you up and comments under his breath that you’re probably so tense from the lack of dick you’re getting. “what was that satoru?” “nothing at all princess, you’re hearing things. get your ears checked out maybe.”

rival!gojo who doesn’t want to get under just your skin but under your sheets too.

rival!gojo who wants to dominate you in every aspect, especially in bed.

rival!gojo who wants to pummel your pussy into the ground whenever you catch an attitude with him, which is mainly all the time. this one particular time when taking down a curse led you both on thin ice. “satoru, you’re supposed to guard me. the curse could’ve easily escaped. what the fuck were you doing?” you state walking close to him, arms out in disbelief with furrowed eyebrows. “huh, well maybe if you knew what you were doing you wouldn’t be relying on me.” he looked down at you, voice brattier than usual. “rely on you? i’d rather be thrown on the ground right now and have a special grade eat me whole.” faces only inches apart, he tugged his blindfold above one eyes, face growing cold. “I doubt it would remotely even want to eat something as vile as you.” your eyes only glued to his somber face, looking beautiful when disparaging as if it was double the taunting. clearing your throat, “as if it would want to taste you.” a gust of wind escaped his nose in disbelief, “please, it wouldn’t be the only thing here that would want to taste me.” pupils dilated, eyes directing staring in each others souls, you only scoff. “and who’s to say that you wouldn’t pass up the opportunity to throw me on the ground?” his once stern face, had a hint of lust wash over in the form of a slight smirk, “not really a fan of wrestling someone so weak, i’ll just feel bad for you. really.” given the circumstances and the hoards of curses making way, he actually regretted not taking you right then and there. his idea of wrestling equating to absolutely demolishing your guts.

rival!gojo who wonders what it would be like to shut your soft, plush mouth up with his own.

rival!gojo who wonders if the bitter insults that roll off your tongue taste sweeter in his mouth.

rival!gojo who is more than giddy to hear that you’re assigned together to train, because he’s not just thinking of physically fighting you. his mind trails off to training you to take his cock instead.

rival!gojo who wants to test your strength in seeing how many rounds you can go with him. this isn’t about training.

rival!gojo who imagines taking you in for the first time; raw, ass up in the air, back arched inhumanely possible, large hand gripping at your hair follicles, and the harsh slapping of skin filling the room. he needs to take you in the most humiliating way, he wants to make you feel all sorts of ways while all he does is snicker about how good you clench on to him in a lewd position.

rival!gojo who often thought about calling you his cum-slut, while he’d make your pretty tongue lap up and down his thick dick groaning about making sure not to be an ungrateful whore and to swallow every last bit of him.

rival!gojo who can’t tell if he wants to fuck the shit out of you or if he wants you to fuck the shit out of him.

rival!gojo who encourages you to wear shorts and tight clothing while sparring. he literally just wants to make you comfortable, nothing at all hidden underneath.

rival!gojo who just takes his sweet time trailing his eyes all around the curves of your body before smiling softly.

“something caught your eye satoru?” “ohhhhhhh, nothing. just studying your technique.” “is my technique my ass?” “what? a man can’t make sure you have good form?”

rival!gojo who can sense with his six eyes that he gets you wet, he knows that you know which makes it all the better.

rival!gojo who laughs at you making comments about him probably acting all high and mighty due to a lack of “something.” was it sex? was it his dick? “wouldn’t you like to know pervert?" oh how he wish he can just make you feel the depth of his dick by making you look at the bulge he'd make in your tummy.

rival!gojo who actually does get in a heated making out session with you; hair gripping, tongues slick against each other, moans trapped in each others mouths, dry humping like a bitch in heat, lips engulfing one another. “who the fuck knew that gojo satoru was a needy bitch?” you say breathless, a string of saliva connecting your shameful lips together. “oh please, i was doing the world a favor by shutting you up.”

rival!gojo who finds himself panting as well, dazed out expression, foreheads still touching one another as noses nudge. he huffs slightly, rosy hue scattered across his face. “one more time.” he states breathless, eyes half-lidded. “kiss me one more time,” his voice continues off while you snake an arm around his neck drawing fingertips up and down his undercut. with his eyes shutting softly a sudden gulp, “need to make sure i hated it as much as you did. yeah, yeah, something like that.” he murmurs off before your heads are titling slightly, eyes both shut tight as lips press together on a soft impact. juxtaposing the messy, down-right nasty, desperate exchange of saliva masked as a “kiss.”

rival!gojo who finds out himself that your lips were indeed, soft and he liked the feeling of them pressed against his more than off.

rival!gojo who has to hold himself back from absolutely demolishing your pussy in the middle of combat. through growing pants, you squint your eyes at him from a distance. “g-growing weak satoru.” he’d only blink slightly, shaking his head mentally, the thought of having you pant for other reasons goes on in his head. while staring at your face, “huh, guess i am.”

rival!gojo who jokes that one day he’ll make you cry. unaware of what he meant by that, you only roll your eyes at his statement. although he would kill to hurt you, he wasn’t lying, he would kill even more to see your precious eyes drown in tears of pleasure when taking his fat cock in inch by inch.

rival!gojo who has you pinned with your hands above your head as he pushes his muscular upper body into yours, feeling every rigid of muscle on your own. “are you purposely trying to be weak or do you just want an excuse to be used as a rag-doll?” pressing more of his body weight on yours, the clothing unable to hold a barrier of the heat and desire emitted off you two. He grinned, voice dropping an octave, his breath hitting your nose, “you disgust me.” quickly flipped the narrative so he was underneath, arms pinned up above his head while your bottom half straddles his groin. a thick, rock-hard sensation felt underneath you, clothing still having a hard time masking your pulsating clit and his dick that’s twitching. staring directly into his cerulean eyes, “clearly, not enough.”

rival!gojo who just knows your pussy is tight and lethal. he knows you’re practically walking around with a pool drenched between your legs waiting to be spread out by him. it’s even worse knowing that he is right. he thinks he can fix that nasty behavior right out of you with a good ol’ lesson on his cock.

rival!gojo who wants nothing more to completely get lost in your pussy, spending hours either making you cry from his dick or convulsing on his tongue.

rival!gojo who is still patient. patiently waiting for the day you slip up before he thinks of casually slipping his 8 inches in your silky folds. little does gojo know that day will be approaching sooner than later.

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silvervioletvalentine · 4 months

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‘I know I've got a big ego, I really don't know why it's such a big deal, though!’

Pairing : Lewis Hamilton X FemOC Candy!

Summary- in which she’s a spoilt , Primadonna girl and Lewis will do anything to get her to be his girl.

Candy didn’t know when this whole thing had started, what it was about her that had him so hooked and so obsessed with the idea of getting her to become his girl , to let him be her man.

She had done everything she could to deter him , she turned up to a high class bitchiness level that she had never even reached before . More cunty and more cruel than her friends could believe , getting great amusement out of putting one of the hottest , arrogant men down a few pegs every time she seen his pretty face .

But sometimes he got beneath her skin and wormed his over the top affections , his poetic words and endless promises of the a luxurious life he could give her.

Candy was certain that he would give her his kidney If she so much as hinted at wanting it, his promise of never ending supply of love and gifts never did fade .

Even when she thought that maybe , just maybe he had finally grown sick of chasing after her like a dog after his favourite ball.

It had been quite for the last three weeks , far more quite than she had grown accustomed to over the last year of knowing Lewis.

It unsettled her , a weird ache settling between her chest as she contemplated the fact that maybe he really had grown bored with her silly games , of her constant mean rejections and petty excuses to deny his affections time and time again.

And candy thought that she would be fine with this , that it wouldn’t bother her when things came to a still end like they always did with men’s attention waned on her after time had passed .

But instead of the indifference that she expected to feel , she just felt like a hole had been run right through her .

A frown settling over her pretty face the last few weeks when she realised that Lewis really wasn’t reaching out anymore . He usually never went a couple days or more without some type of communication .

It bad her rattled and she didn’t like it at all.

So she picked up her phone and dialled his number before she could find the reason in her brain telling her not to .

She was almost surprised when after only a couple of rings , he actually picked up. But she was too annoyed and too keyed up to even think of why he sounded so amused when he sang a pleased hello.

She cut straight through him without even wasting a single breath .

“Have you been in a terrible accident ? Have you lost your legs? Your voice? Have you sudden developed amnesia and forgotten who I am?” She bit out at him , offended by his lack of attention these past three weeks.

Despite the way that the last time she had seen him, she had told him to shove his designer gifts for her where the sun didn’t shine and to leave her the fuck alone.

To be fair , she had been on her period . Pissed off from the constant pain and moody from her suffering . And secondly , she hasn’t expected him to actually leave her the fuck alone.

This wasn’t how their game went at all. He should have been here with some pretty , sparkly things while telling her how much he had missed her.

What the hell was he playing at , ignoring her like this?

“Missed me sweetheart? I thought you didn’t want to see me? Changed your mind again?” He teased her , a giddy tone in his phone at the thought of her missing him so much.

It had been torture for him not to be Constantly on her ass and around her like he usually was , but he had just wanted to see what would happen if he really did follow through with her demands to fuck right off.

Half expecting Her to never reach out again, he was pleasantly surprised to hear her furious voice shouting at him again. It made his body relax and a smug grin settle on his face .

Candy let out a infuriated noise “no I didn’t! I was actually - I was actually just calling to let you know that I’ve moved on! adiós to you!” She shrilled.

Picking up her fluffy cat and hugging him to her chest with her free arm for comfort , the same rag doll that Lewis had gotten her for simply looking pretty this summer.

Lewis let out a chuckle , knowing her like his favourite well read book.

“Oh yeah? And who’s the lucky guys name? Anyone I know?” He played along. Putting his phone on speaker as he drove along the familiar road to her home .

Candy scowled to herself , angrily pacing her room at how amused he sounded . Her eyes traced the framed pictures on her wall, landing on one from her favourite band .

She blinked .

“No you don’t know him. His name is - his name is axl. The hottest man I’ve ever seen, we’re in love.” She blurted out wanting to make him as upset as he had made her these last few weeks of ignoring her .

Lewis was clearly grinning , she could hear his smug , beautiful grin through the damn phone .

“Cool name . Well If you’re happy…” he trailed off .

Candy was officially enraged “you don’t care?!” She almost screamed angrily. Tears filling her eyes .

His voice was careful as he replied smugly “do you want me to care sweetheart?”

She paused , sniffled then huffed loudly . “No. I don’t care if you don’t care!”

Lewis grinned to himself “okay cool. So just to be clear , you’ve moved on with some guy named Axl and you don’t care that I don’t care?” He teased.

Candy put down her poor cat and threw herself down onto the couch with a scowl on her face , wrapped herself in a blanket and tried not to cry.

“Correct.” Was all she hiccuped “well then- I’m glad we’ve cleared this up asshole. Thanks for not caring!” She made sure to get the last word in before she angrily hung up the phone .

Then she screamed into her pillow .

Only Abruptly pausing her long scream halfway when a loud knock echoed on her door.

She quickly straightened up and threw on Lewis’s hoodie that he had left last time he was here annoying her . Stomping to the door with the sourness of someone who felt like she has been dumped even though she wasn’t even in a relationship to start with.

What was her life?

She threw open the door ready to grab whatever parcel was being delivered , then froze as she came face to face with a grinning Lewis at her door.

Dressed in a beautiful dark red tracksuit set , skin glowing and hair braided back perfectly . Candy suddenly felt self conscious as she became acutely aware of her messy bed hair and mascara rimmed eyes , dressed in nothing but pj shorts and his hoodie .

“Hey baby.” He simply said after a few seconds of her gaping at him with wide eyes. Then he casually shuffled past her body, his band grazing her hip gently as he stepped into her apartment like it was his own.

It took her a few moments to gather her bearings before she was slamming the door shut and turning to him with a mean glower on her face . Heart racing in her chest at his sudden arrival.

“What are you doing here?!” She exclaimed shocked , and annoyingly relieved that he was finally there with her .

She kicked his foot , hard. Angry with him.

Lewis just smiled , leaned forward to gently run his fingers through her hair affectionately.

“Came to see you and your new boyfriend Axl.” His eyes darted to her picture of Axl rose on her wall as he said it.

Candy swallowed leaning into his touch for a moment before coming to her senses and batting his hand away.

“You just missed him.” She lied.

Lewis chuckled , amused ? knowing that she was lying and knowing that she knew that he knew that she was lying too.

“How convenient.” Was all he replied before taking a seat at the end of her couch, sitting on the arm of it . He looked up at her with his smile softening into something more warm and lovely .

“I’ve missed you. You look as beautiful as ever.” He told her softly , taking a hold of the hem of her shorts to tug her closer between his legs .

She let him. Cheeks flushing lightly as she gazed into his warm eyes , feeling her body turned to mush.

“Really?” She wondered then looked around him with a slight frown “where’s my gift?”

Lewis let out a loud laugh at how spoilt she was, though he supposed it was partly his fault. He never did arrive without a gift for his sweetheart after all.

“Don’t I get a hug first? I know you missed me.” He teased her, trailing his hand up to her waist and gently rubbing her soft skin beneath his hoodie .

She let her arms rest over his broad shoulders , pouting down at him.

“You said you didn’t care that I moved on.” She mumbled annoyed with him still.

He chuckled , hugging her to him . Resting his chin on her stomach as he peered up at her beneath his dark lashes .

“What? Moved on with Axl rose your imaginary boyfriend? Don’t be silly baby. You know I’m the only one for you.” He told her softly , smiling up at her with affection written all over his beautiful face.

Candy frowned down at him , playing with the diamond stud in his ear .

“I don’t like you.” She reminded him just out of habit by now.

Instead of getting upset , he just giggled at her stubbornness to Admit what he already knew. “Then why were you upset that I didn’t care?”

“I wasn’t upset and I don’t care that you don’t care Lewis. I just think it was mean to abandon me like that for three weeks . I thought you were dead.” She dramatically snapped .

She had watched him at his races . She knew that he was perfectly fine. Which only upset her more because then what other excuse did he have for ignoring her like that then?

Death was the only reasonable excuse to do that!

He rose a brow at her , lifting her hoody to look at the sparkly diamond H belly stud that she had on. The same one he had given her last time he saw her.

He bent down his head and gently kissed it, smirking to himself as he felt her whole body shiver against his lips.

“Don’t like me ignoring you? Now you know how I feel. Isn’t nice is it?” He mumbled against another soft kiss on her belly . Only pulling away when she slapped his forehead not so gently .

He looked up to see her glaring down at him, furious.

“I do not ignore you like that!” She denied.

He rolled his eyes “you told me to go fuck myself the last time I was here. Then refused to pick up my calls the rest of the week.” He reminded her.

She just scoffed “I was upset! I was bleeding from my vagina Lewis! Not everything is about you! I wasn’t in the mood for your games!” She argued.

He paused, then tilted his head with a slight frown. “You could have just told me that. I would have gotten you a heating pad and some chocolate. You didn’t have to be so mean baby.” He said.

She just sniffled at him , gently rubbing at the back of his neck with her fingers absentmindedly. “I’m not mean.”

The look he gave her was full of disbelief “no? Then why aren’t you my girl then?” His question had her stumped.

She spluttered for answer , blinking rapidly . “Well- cause I’m not impressed.” She answered him shortly.

He barked out a laugh “no?” He grinned looking up at her with eyes full of amusement .

“The jewellery and the clothes weren’t enough? The cat , the paid of loans and your car? Still not impressive enough?” He listed off all of the things he had gotten her this past year . Growing more amused by the second as he watched her stubbornly shake her head at him.

“Nope.” She muttered arrogantly .

“Then what would it take for you to be my girl?” He wanted to know.

She searched her mind for something “a mansion like yours. With a king size bed. And - and your Ferrari.” She said the most ridiculous thing she could think of. Something he couldn’t give her.

His eyes searched her face for a long moment before simply humming . “Will you stay at mine tonight with me? Roscoe misses you.” He said already getting to his feet .

He grabbed her phone and keys from the table , not even waiting for an answer before heading to her door. Knowing she would follow him.

She did .

“What will we do? I don’t want to bored all night.” She huffed as she followed him out.

Letting him lock her door, absentmindedly grabbing his hand as he lead her down her apartment stairs . Missing the way he smiled down at her , shaking his head fondly .

They were almost to the car when he finally responded , making her skin flush red and knees weaken as he bluntly told her

“I’m going to fuck you so hard till you know no other name than mine . Then I’m going to eat you out for however long it takes for you to realise that there’s no one better for you than me baby.” He kissed the side of her head before pushing her down into the passenger seat casually .

Candy just blinked up at him in shock , face red and belly fluttering . “Oh. Okay.” She weakly spluttered in response .

Lewis just smirked and flicked her chin lightly before closing the door shut, jogging around to the drivers side quickly .

And Lewis never broke his promises. And by the time the stars were twinkling bright , his name was all she could scream .

When candy woke up the next morning , it was to the sound of Lewis ‘awwing’ loudly at something .

She grumbled to herself as she pushed herself out of his bed , blushing at the fact that she was wearing nothing but his shirt .

Lewis having put It on her while she exhaustedly let him look after her and tuck her into his chest , kissing her head gently as she drifted off to sleep.

Yawning loudly , she stomped her way down the fancy stairs of his home . Grumpy from being woken up .

“What the hell are you awwing at you weirdo?” She called out to Lewis the moment she caught sight of him in the hallway.

He looked over at her with a bright smile on his face , beckoning her over for a hug. She immediately fell into his chest , still tired as she lazily hugged him back.

“Roscoe loves kitties . It’s so cute.” Lewis casually told her , stroking her hair away from her face as she tried to wake up properly.

“Huh?” She let out confusedly wondering why he looked so smug and amused . Then she turned her head and froze as she saw roscoe cuddled up with mr snuggles , her cat .

She blinked at her cat in Lewis’s home , with his dog. Wondering if she was still dreaming .

Then She glanced over to the front room and saw her Tiffany lamps and her cushions on his couch , glancing down at the carpet to see her heart shaped rug there too.

She gasped loudly in shock “what the fuck?!” She immediately turned back to Lewis with wide eyes, gaping at him.

“Why are my things In your house? Why is my kitty here? What the fuck?!” She shouted in absolute disbelief .

Lewis just smiled at her serenely , clearing pleased with himself . He leaned down to stroke her cat when he walked over to him purring , leaving Candy to just blink at him in disbelief .

“You said that the only way you would be with me is if you had a mansion with a king side bed and well…” he pointedly looked around his mansion and the king sized bed she had gotten out of . Grinning proudly at her as he did so.

“What’s mine is now yours baby. And also…” he dug his hand into his hoodie pocket and pulled out some keys .

He opened up her placed and gently placed them in her hand. “There’s my keys to my Ferrari that you wanted as well.” He said.

Candy felt like she was going to pass out .

Gaping at this insane man that was more than happy to give her everything he had. She felt her heart swell in her chest, briefly looking down at the Ferrari keys in her hand and all her things in his home .

She spluttered “but-what? I can’t just live with you! That’s insane!” Her hands were trembling

around the keys at his casual devotion to giving her whatever the hell she wanted .

Lewis just shrugged casually , walking over to her slowly like she was a spooked animal. And maybe she was , she sure felt like a deer in headlights then.

What the fuck was her life?

“Why not? I’m in love with you and I’m pretty sure you’re in love with me. I want you by my side , always. And what better way than living with you?” He simply explained like it was that easy. And maybe for him it was .

Candy just looked at him like he had grown a third head.

“That’s pretty arrogant to assume that I love you Lewis!” She snapped at him stubbornly . Blushing red. “What if I hated your guts? This would be real awkward for you!”

Lewis just laughed at her attitude “oh yeah? So the ‘please Lewis! Fuck me harder Lewis! Just like that baby! all that was because you hated me was it?” He smugly copied her high pitched voice screaming last night .

Making her quickly slap his bicep with a embarrassed gasp, face feeling like it was on fire.

“Lewis!” She shrieked while he just giggled harder

“shut up! I do not sound like that! How dare you?!”

Lewis rolled his eyes at her fondly “how dare me? How dare you! Why are you being so god damn stubborn? Why can’t you just admit that you love me? We could be married by now if you just stopped being so mean!” He exclaimed right back at her in exasperation.

But never angry, no, not with her. He loved her

Too damn much after all.

“I’m not mean! Fuck you!” She yelled back.

“You already did and will again after you just admit that I’m right!”

“Oh you’d like that wouldn’t you? Mr always right!” She sarcastically shouted back.

Lewis snorted a laugh “so you don’t want me then? Don’t want to live with me and drive my Ferrari?” He challenged her.

She paused , then fidgeted with the diamond tennis bracelet that Lewis had gotten for her , on her wrist .

“I didn’t - I didn’t say that-“

He grinned smugly “admit it then. Go on.” He gave her a nudge , utterly beaming by now .

Candy huffed like a child and rolled her eyes at him . “I just - are you serious?” She eyed him like he was playing some nasty , elaborate joke on her . Waiting for him to shout ‘gotchu girl!’.

Lewis squinted his eyes at her in disbelief “are you serious?” He returned the question to her in slight annoyance at her doubting him after everything .

“I’m obviously very serious baby , my god! Your cat is in my house and I just have you my Ferrari! What a weird, expensive joke that would be!” He exclaimed.

What a strange woman he was in love with he thought , so suspicious of him , Jesus!

Candy sniffed , clutched her diamond necklace on her neck (another gift from him) and slowly nodded her head.

“right . Well..” she uncomfortably cleared her throat , not one for being sappy or emotional over a man but damn , her heart was about to burst right now.

“Thanks babe.” She settled on lamely instead.

Lewis looked at her grimacing face then burst out into hysterical giggles . “You’re so welcome sweetheart. Come ‘ere” he tugged her over to him by her folded arm, grinning into her hair as he hugged her tightly to his chest .

His stubborn , spoilt girl.

Candy hugged him back without any hesitation, squeezing his waist tight . Sighing in content , she planted a gentle kiss on his chest .

“Lew?” She spoke up after another minute of just standing there cuddling in the front room while their pets stared at them like they were watching a entertaining show .

His smile was evident in his voice “yeah baby?”

She sighed in defeat , too happy to care about her pride anymore . “You’re so right by the way.” She admitted to him quietly .

He hummed smugly “yeah?”

She nodded with a huff “yeah.” She pulled away slightly to look into his eyes , he was so fucking beautiful it made her want to cry.

All mine. She almost growled , kissing his mouth just because she could . Lewis sighed against her lips happily

“Say it baby. Come on..” he whispered against her mouth , lips curling into a grin when she just sighed again.

“I love you. So much. And I missed you so don’t do that shit to me again. I’m not one to be ignored.” She told him sternly , pointing a nail into his chest.

He giggled and kissed her again “noted. Do not ignore my girl again.” He murmured then “and I love you too. You stubborn, mean girl.”

“Babe?”

“Yeah?”

“Can I have your Mercedes too? Just for Wednesdays?”

A pause , then “why Wednesday’s?” He asked amused.

She shrugged as she let him pull her down onto the couch to continue making out , side eyeing her blanket on his couch.

When the hell did he even do all this? She wondered? Still In disbelief that he had all her things moved into his home (their home now?) while she was asleep.

Was a sneaky little guy.

“Just to shake things up a little.” She replied simply.

Lewis didn’t even hesitate to agree.

Maybe she’d buy him a vegan waffle for dinner to repay him, she thought with a grin as she accepted his Mercedes car keys too.

She needed some new keychains , she thought mindlessly . Imagining the looks on her friends face when she rolled up in his Ferrari for their weekend brunches .

If this was a game , she had totally won. She thought to herself contently as she felt Lewis trail kisses down her neck.

A new mansion, two new cars and Lewis fucking hamilton as her man.

Oh yeah, she had totally won in life .

#lewis hamilton imagine #f1 imagine #formula one imagine #f1 fic #f1 oneshot #formula 1 imagine #lewis hamilton oneshot

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milaisreading · 1 year

Note

Hello, i was just wondering if you could make a fanfic about manger reader who gets cold easily and the players gets into a small fight into who gets to give her their jackets but to only find out, another player from a different team gives her their jacket (for example it could be Sae,Aiku,Kaiser, ect)

Author: here ya go~ hope you like this and thank you for the request! Have a great day🩷

Warnings ⚠️: reader uses she/her. Requests are open

⚽️Blue lock belongs to:Muneyuki Kaneshiro and Yusuke Nomura⚽️

"Acho!" (Y/n) sneezed as quietly as possible while packing up everything. The Blue Lock had a practice match with Japan's U-20 team. After the defeat, they all oddly enough became a lot closer, minus Sendo and Oliver, (Y/n) would say she had a pretty decent relationship with everyone. Sendo was just too full of himself for her liking and Oliver... well he was nicer, but obnoxious at times.

"Acho!" Another sneeze caught the attention of Rin and Bachira, who immediately walked up to her, concerned with her health.

"Are you alright, (Y/n)?" Bachira asked as the girl sneezed on more time before nodding her head.

"Yeah, it's just so cold today."

"Cold? I don't know, it's a lot warmer than yesterday." Rin raised an eyebrow.

"Is everything alright?" Isagi asked as he approached the trio. Baro raised his eyebrow when he saw the girl rub her arms.

"Everything is alright... it's just that I get cold easily. Let's just finish packing up before Ego-san gets mad." (Y/n) said, not really seeing a big deal in the statement. The four looked at her as she walked away and then at each other.

"Soo..." Isagi started.

"Yeah..." Bachira added as Rin sent them both a glare.

"Don't even think about it, you two."

"But she will freeze!" Bachira protested.

"How cruel of you. I will just give her my jacket." Baro sighed as he started taking off the said clothing item, but Rin stopped him.

"No, I will do it as the captain, it's my job to make sure my-"

"Our!"

"-manager is warm and healthy." Run finished, ignoring Isagi's previous comment.

"First of all, she is our manager. 2nd of all my jacket is a better option, it smells nicer." Isagi said as Baro sent him a side glare.

"Yours?! Mine smells better and is way softer."

As the two started bickering, Bachira tried to sneak away to where (Y/n) was, but Rin grabbed him by his arm.

"Is there an issue, captain?" Bachira asked in a condescending tone, pissing Rin even more off.

"Don't even think about it."

"Or what?"

"I will squish you, midget."

Now all four were arguing, catching Hiori and Karasu's attention.

"I feel like Ego-san will give us all a huge punishment once we get back." Karasu groaned.

"What are they arguing over now? And why did you take your jacket off, Yukimiya?" Hiori asked, both turning their attention to the boy.

"Didn't you hear? Our dear manager is cold, I think I should do the noble thing and give her my jacket."

Karasu and Hiori stopped for a moment and blinked at Yukimiya, then tackled the boy to the ground before he could get away.

"Hey! Hands off!"

"No way! My jacket is the perfect size for (Y/n)!" Hiori protested as Karasu laughed.

"Move it you both, the only jacket (Y/n) will be wearing is mine."

Meanwhile Reo, Nagi and Chigiri were right by (Y/n)'s said, having found out she was cold and were trying to get her to pick their jackets.

"Take mine (Y/n)! I am not even cold at all. I can always run and heat up my body." Chigiri argued, trying to put his jacket around (Y/n).

"No way, mine is bigger and will give you more heat, just take mine (Y/n)." Nagi said softly.

"Please you two, I can handle the cold-"

"No no, just take mine (Y/n). We Can't have you cold. Mine is very soft." Reo added with a blush.

"No thank you, you guys are the players. Having you out with a fever is worse-" (Y/n) tried to argue but Chigiri interrupted her.

"Move it, rich boy. I offered first."

"Shut it, princess."

"You all are annoying, just take mine."

Moving away as the three started arguing, (Y/n) looked at the other guys, who either were glaring or arguing.

'Where is Teieri-san?!' She thought and went to look for the woman.

"I think my jacket would look cuter on (Y/n), just imagine an oversized jacket on her." Otoya sighed as him, Aryu, Kurona, Gagamaru and Niko were sitting in a circle.

"True... but so will my jacket fit. She always says she finds my clothes nice." Kurona added with a small blush.

"I think mine would look cuter on her, since we already had her use it as a blanket. It was so adorable~" Aryu chimed in, playing with his hair. The statement earned him a nudge from Gagamaru.

"We all have the same jackets, mine would fit too... I wonder where (Y/n) went." Gagamaru added in, holding onto the hem of his Blue Lock jacket.

"I don't think yours would be the best, she would look much better in a smaller version." Niko said as he crossed his arms. The four were about to argue as well, if it wasn't for Ego and Anri appearing and silencing the guys.

'Shit!' They thought, noticing their glares.

"Here. I heard you are cold." Sae said as he put his jacket around (Y/n).

"I really don't think-"

"It's nothing, you can wear it and Rin can return it to me." Sae said as (Y/n) simply nodded her head and thanked the pro-player.

"Your is really soft."

She commented as the boy blushed, nodding his head.

"Sae, you little piece of shit! Stealing my girl like that!"

"Shut it, Aiku!" The two yelled at the captain, embarrassed and annoyed.

"Rin, I will beat your brother up." Baro commented as Rin rolled his eyes, both witnessing what the redhead did.

"Not before I do."

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factual-fantasy · 6 months

Text

26 ASK! :DDDD🎉🎉🎉

I do not.. :/ Sorry!

@mason-gaylord

:DDD Thank you!! ☕ I'm hanging in there as best I can <:) Thank you for the well wishes. I hope the same for you!

@boxofcreampuffs (SKJAJD HORSE XDDDD)

AAAAA THANK YOUU SO MUCH!!! THATS SO SWEET!! I PLAN TO GET BACK AROUND TO BOTH FANDOMS SOMETIME SOON AFTER MY COMIC IS DONE!!💖💖💖💖💖

@chaotic-public-menace (Post in question)

<XD While that is true, this comic is way overdue. Its taken me some weeks to make and it should have been up like a month ago! I just wanna get it done already so I'm trying to not get distracted by FNAF and other drawing ideas-

@ditzyclown

I haven't actually decided on whether or not the other Addison's were good or bad guys. This would change their reaction to seeing Spamton.

I had this idea that Spamton's world is a lot like Seam and Jevil's. Its more cruel and wicked than the original Deltarune.. And Spamton might not have been particularly close with the other Addison's.. They had no time for bonds or relationships. It was a dog eat dog world, every man for himself.

Branching off of that, one idea I had was the other Addison's had become jealous of Spamton's success and tried to kill him by pushing him into the acid pools.. Only for Spamton to survive and reemerge as a horrific looking creature..

If I go with the evil Addison story.. some Addison's might run away in fear just because of how horrific Spamton looks. Though some might deliberately abandon him becuase they hated him/were jealous of him and felt like he deserves this.

If I go with a story where the other Addison's weren't responsible for the acid fall.. they might still run away in fear. Seeing this horrible beast.. not realizing its one of their own.

@bunny-coffee

XD No problem! Soft boi Gregory is best Gregory!

@beryl-shade

In my AU, none of the other Glamrock's know that Gregory exists. But if they did, maybe Roxy would envy it a bit..? Having someone look up to Freddy and not her might hurt her ego a bit.. :(

@elegysonnet

Oh no no, his top and bottom row of teeth are separate. Like these pictures here show,

(Post in question for the pictures)

The top row of teeth all fused together and became one big cracked tooth. And the bottom row did the same. But the two rows are separate and he can still open his mouth.

To think that if while he was initially melting, he had kept his mouth closed? His teeth would have melted together and he wouldn't be able to eat anything easily.. if at all.

Please don't draw fanart of any of my stuff. There are no exceptions.

(Also thank you💖)

@skellacant

Thank you! :DDD

@iziria09

You just made their night XDD

Thank you! I'm hanging in there 😅 I hope you are well too! :}}

They're dry :x

@crimson-thinker

I imagine that Bonnie Bowl might have a flashlight.? And Pirates cove would have a box of confiscated Bon-cams XD

I don't really remember what the other collectables were in the game so I don't really have a reference to go off of..

Buuuut,,, maybe from Bonnie bowl you could also get one of Bonnies signature bowling balls? A purple bowling ball with a rabbit ears print on it somewhere.

And for Pirates Cove perhaps a cheap pirate captains hat? I had this idea that there's 100s of these cheap captain hats that Foxy gives away to the kids every day. So maybe that could be a collectable too? :00

@ninaandthegames

XD Once I'm done with this project that will be me. Posting the most painful angst I can conjure up

I have not. But something tells me its about Hares/Rabbits XDD

@randox-talore

Yeah, me and some friends theorized about that. We thought "Maybe Vanessa or William is taking care of the animatronics and keeping them clean"

But even if they were, you cant help certain wears and tears. They would look noticeably worn, stained, torn in some places and a bit brittle in others after so many years of just existing.

They also missed out on a lot of scares by making them pristine. Bonnie's face could have had a crack/split down the side. "Oh yeah that's been there for a while, its fine" Only for it to fall of later in the movie revealing these piercing red eyes and a Childs head lodged in Bonnie's face/jaw.

Or Chica could have her beak come off or dangle down and reveal colorful wires hanging down.. and.. is that a childs arm.?

(Post in question)

Oh yeah, he'd be scared. Even the Captain is spooked in that AU XD

@kaiserdarken (WAAA SORRY FOR ANSWERING SO LATE! I was originally going to draw something as a response to this but I never got around to it and it got burriedddd.. my apologies. Better late than never I suppose-)

I do celebrate Halloween, which means Bibi and Jangles would as well XD For Halloween I like to dress up in some way and carve pumpkins. Although I forgot to carve any this year and didn't have a good opportunity to dress up unfortunately-

I can see Bibi wanting to dress up and carve pumpkins too. But he might not actually be strong enough to puncture a pumpkin to carve it <XD He'd need some help-

Jangles would just eat all of the candy. Plus pumpkin pie and more candy-

(Again one of those asks I was going to respond to with a drawing but never got around to ittttt.. I'm sorry-)

Its been so long since you sent this I cant actually remember what it was referring to.💀 IM SO SORRY! Its still funny though! <XDD

(Another ask I was going to respond to with a comic- sorry for the lateness!)

Thank you so much! And yeah, "Jangles looks like Papyrus," I get that a lot <XD

(Yet another late ask that was meant to have a drawing attached😭 Sorry!)

(Bibi sweating profusely) "PLEASE do not die for me- I prefer you were alive--"

@minnesotamedic186 (ANOTHER late ask meant to have its own post but I got lazy😭💔Sorry!)

The basic idea for my Kirby AU is that I took the other metaknight's and added them to the Kirby Right back at Ya universe :00 I cant remember what info I shared before because this ask was sent so long ago.. but I'll just recap Axe Knights story because it has the most detail!

Axe Knight was Metaknight's first follower, and best friend. He was with Metaknight from the very beginning. They became star warriors together when they were both a bit young. Axe Knight truly believed in Metaknight. He saw greatness in his friend, he saw a true hero. And he truly believed Metaknight was going to end this war and save the world. Its because of this adoration and belief, that Axe Knight devoted himself to Metaknight and proclaimed himself to be his first follower.

It was not too long after when tragedy struck. A battle broke out and Axe knight sacrificed himself to protect Metaknight. As he lay on the ground, dying from his sacrifice.. he saw Metaknight too laying on the ground nearby. Unmoving, and in a pool of his own blood. Axe knight died with his heart twisted in grief. Thinking that his sacrifice had failed. And that his best friend had died.

Metaknight of course survived, and Axe Knights sacrifice was the only thing that saved him. But Axe Knight didn't know that before he died. Metaknight buried his best friend and left that planet in grief. Forever changed by this loss..

But Axe Knight.. wasn't totally gone. Axe died grieving, thinking that this world lost a great warrior; Metaknight. Thinking that it was so cruel Metaknight didn't get to live longer. To travel the universe and save lives. They were robbed of a hero. Because of Axe Knights failure. His soul was so disturbed that it couldn't move on. He later crawled out of his grave, with a fiery determination to make things right. To go out there and save as many lives as possible. To protect anyone he can and to help all who need him. Because that's what Metaknight would have done.

Eventually after years of blindly wandering the universe.. battling monsters and saving innocents.. he crosses paths with dreamland. He finds himself in a little town full of Cappys.. And then he runs in to a familiar face...

(ANOTHER ASK THAT WAS MEANT TO HAVE A DRAWING RESPONSE IM SORRY-)

I was going to draw a comic of Jangles making a vlog style video. "Hey guys, welcome to pranking with Jangles. Today I'm gonna prank Bibi by throwing this cheese slice at his face!"

He sneaks up behind Bibi who is sitting on a beanbag and reading or something- "Hey Bibi" He turns around

Jangles throws the cheese slice and it completely misses and just splats on the ground. "Oh oops"

Bibi: "????"

@uay778 (The last ask that I was going to draw something for and never got around to. So sorry!)

I was going to draw a comic to this where I replace the bandages with clean, fresh ones. But then they immediately get soaked with blood again XDD Its just a part of my design!

#my response #tw body horror #fnaf security breach #fnaf movie spoilers #fnaf movie #octonauts #deltarune #undertale #spamton #bibi and jangles

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redr0sewrites · 13 days

Note

threesome with nesta + cassian from acotar during the frenzy? i love both characters sm and saw u were taking reqs :>

hhhhh yes they are soooo fine

🥀Cw: SMUT!!!, threesome/poly, gn!reader, dirty talk, mating frenzy

🥀minors dni

cassian and nesta are wonderful partners, but when it comes to the mating frenzy??? they are literally SO overprotective and horny i just know it

from the minute the frenzy starts to the minute it ends the three of you are all over eachother. they both definitely enjoy spit roasting, with Cassian fucking you senseless while Nesta rides your face. they will absolutely make out while on top of you, and if she's feeling especially cruel, Nesta would absolute play with your clit/cock while Cassian fucks you

Nesta would be sooo mean!!! she definitely uses your sensitivity and horniness against you, even though she's just as insatiable. Nesta and Cassian are pure opposites when it comes to dirty talk, and they'll switch up on you until your fuzzy with pleasure. one minute Nesta could be spitting out the cruelest words and condescending remarks while Cassian praises you with no end in sight, and the next minute Nesta could be pampering you and praising you while Cassian whispers the filthiest shit in your ear and calls you his little slut. they are genuinely so versatile in bed, and that's only amplified during the frenzy

if you are more of a dominant person, you and Nesta DEFINITELYYYYY team up on Cassian at least a fee times, until he's all overstimulated and subby :( if you have a dick he woukd absolutely adore being pegged, but he would deny it to no end. if you don't thats ok too, you can still use a strap which will lead to the same effect- a wrecked and needy Cassian

USE HIS SENSITIVE WINGS AGAINST HIM. you and Nesta on either side of him while he's restrained, gently caressing his wings and teasing his thighs, but not touching his painfully hard cock. he'll be whimpering in minutes, he just needs you so much!

Nesta is a bit harder to team up on, but it can be managed. you'd have to start off slow, praise her and feed her ego. she loooves being pampered when she's subbing and is def a bratty pillow princess. she'll be very pliant and down for whatever, but COMPLAINS the entire time about how she can't feel a thing. so, in response, you and Cassian work together to fuck her SENSELESS. the easiest way to break her down is with incessant praise, she absolutely meltsssss

your all big fans of marking, like your all walking out of your 3 week frenzy with claw marks, hickies, and bruises on every available inch of your bodies'. your definitely gonna be wearing turtlenecks for a few weeks lmao.

you guys definitely prioritize aftercare a lot though. you always pause between sessions to get food and water, and y'all definitely bathe together. it's not always spicy either, sometimes bathing during the frenzy was intimate but not in a sexual way. lots of massages over sore muscles and praise were shared, and bathing together is one of your favorite memories of the frenzy (besides the filthy, steamy sex 💀)

honestly yall probably spend a week after the frenzy just SLEEPING and snuggling together after like barely sleeping for so long 💀

"fuuuck Nes," Cassian groaned between sloppy kisses above you, aligning his cock with your aching hole. Nesta shudders as you moan, sending vibrations against her clit. she was sitting on your face, muscular thighs framing your head as she grinded down against your tongue. Cassian was sliding his aching cock against your hole, grinding down between your folds/ass. you were already wet with preparation from your previous rounds, but the sloppy sounds of Nesta and Cassian making out above you only turned you on more.

Slowly, Cassian thrusted inward, watching in admiration as his cock sinks into your hole. "fuck, baby, takin' me so well," he murmurs, and pulls Nesta back into a breathy kiss. you whine, the fullness of his dick inside you making your clit/cock twitch with need. Nesta's hand travels lower and lower down your sternum, reaching for your pulsing sex. nimble fingers toy with your clit/dick as Nesta's thighs tremble with need.

your tongue works wonders against her aching cunt as Cassian sets a brutal pace. teeth and tongue clash together above you as your two mates make out, and the sound of skin slapping against skin fills the room. you can tell Nesta is getting close from her breathy whines, and the way her thighs tremble with each roll of her hips against your face. Cassian's cock twitches inside you as Nesta lets out an especially wanton moan, and your back arches in response.

Cassian's dick hits a sweet spot inside you that you barely knew existed, and you moan against Nesta's clit. her hips buck against your face as her orgasm washes over her, and you can feel the coil in your abdomen tightening as well. a string of curses leaves Nesta's lips as you grip onto her thighs, pulling her through her high as you continue to eat her out. Cassian nearly comes at the sight, his two perfect mates deep in their own pleasure.

Nesta's swift fingers keep working at your clit/cock until your clenched tight around Cassian, your hole practically sucking him in with each thrust. "shit, 'm gonna-" Cassians voice cracks into a moan as his orgasm tears through him. you mewl and buck your hips as he fucks you through your own high, Nesta's thighs squeezing your head as your mind glazes with pleasure.

"don't suffocate them Nes," Cassian murmurs, pulling out as you both come down from your post-orgasmic high. "oh please, they can take it. can't you, doll?" Nesta coos, and you struggle to nod from beneath her thighs. Cassian shoots her a look, and she crawls off of you. the mattress dips as she lays down besides your panting form, and she gently runs her fingers over your stomach, tracing upwards to cup your cheek.

"we weren't too rough, were we?" the question is spoken softly and genuinely, and you shake your head. "don't worry, 'm fine, Nes. just a little tired", you chuckle, and Cassian lays down on your other side. he pulls you both close, his wings enveloping you all and dousing the soft light from a nearby lantern. "lets all get some rest then, shall we?" you and Nesta both nod, worn out from hours of passionate lovemaking. as you begin to drift off to sleep, you can't help but think about how blessed you are to have such wonderful mates.

help the smut is so mid but i'm too tired to edit IM SORRRRRYYYY- I LOVED THIS REQUEST SOOO MUCH THOOOOOO I NEEEEED TO WRITE FOR ACOTAR MORE CASSIAN AND NESTA R SOOO FINEEEE LMAO

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slvt4em1lyprenti2s · 4 months

Text

Sparks

Originally published on my wattpad: slvt4em1lyprenti2s

Summary: You and Emily have had tension for a while now, and it finally breaks.

Word Count: 2k

Fluff, implikation of nsfw, normal case details, being held by an UnSub (extremely briefly)

Pairings: Emily Prentiss x fem!reader

!NOT PROOFREAD!

Emily's pov:

This case is dragging on, and on, and on. We know who the UnSub is and we're keeping a close eye on him but we have no solid evidence to pin him yet, so we're basically waiting on him to kidnap another woman.

He stalks them at clubs and then whisks them away with his 'charm' and they think they're getting lucky. But they're not, they're getting an early grave. It's sad but c'mon men are stupid and cruel and disgusting. Ugh men.

It's hard not to prove the lesbian stereotypes.

Anyway, we're running out of options because this guy just isn't biting, we think he's cottoned onto the surveillance we have in him and is therefore not going to kidnap another woman. We're sitting ducks. We just need a woman he can't resist to waltz into the club he's in right now to resolve this problem.

"You ready?" I hear Hotch say. My interest piqued I look to see who he's talking too and my eyes fall on the y/h/c haired beauty I get to call my best friend. Although I wish it was more. She's in a red dress thats stops around mid thigh, a slit that goes too far up for my liking on her left leg and a plunging neckline that makes it hard not to stare. I come to my senses as I hear her angelic voice.

"Ready as I'll ever be, I didn't imagine I'd be spending my Saturday chatting up a serial killer but here we are." She chuckles, got I could listen to her laugh all day- wait what. She's going to chat up the UnSub?

Rossi must've seen me coming and realised what I'd head as he said "Uh oh, here comes your girlfriend y/n/n." The team all laughed at this as they saw me coming. I wasn't going to stop her from doing her job but I sure as hell wasn't letting her go in unprotected.

"Take this." I hand her a small pistol that can fit in her clutch, remembering I had been in a similar situation before.

"Thank you em." The blush on her face is evident to everyone in the room, thankfully no one mentions it.

As she stuffs it into her clutch she spins to face me and pulls me into a hug. I grip her tightly, my hands resting on the small of her back as I take in her scent.

"Be careful, please." I plead quietly.

"I will, pinky promise, you know I can't break pinky promises." As she finishes her sentence her pinky makes its way round mine and we each kiss our hand. It's a little tradition we have when we promise something and really mean it.

Me and y/n/n have had tension for months, I'm not even 100% sure she's into girl but hey, I can dream.

After this little display Morgan started making kissing noises to which he received a middle finger from me and a 'yeah you wish you could watch' from y/n/n which made the team laugh even harder.

"As amusing as this is, we have an UnSub to catch, so come in everyone. Let's get going to the SUV's." Hotch said over our laughter.

Time skip to when you are in the bar

Reader pov:

Jesus christ. I didn't know anyone's ego could be this big. He's talking to girls left and right as if he owns them, as if it's his right to talk to them. I actually might throw up. Hotch, Derek and Emily are positioned in different places throughout the bar and Jj, Rossi and Spencer along with SWAT and local PD are surrounding the building so, I'm completely safe.

I fix my face as he looks in my direction putting in my best smile and giving him a flirty wave. He instantly smirks and excuses himself from whatever meaningless conversation he was having with this poor girl and makes his way over to me.

"What's a pretty lady like you doing alone on a Saturday night?" He asks while touching my lower back as he walks up next to me, leaning against the bar.

"Just looking for a friend, you know, the usual." I respond, dragging my finger along my glass of lemonade.

"I could help with that." He whispers into my ear. God I could punch him right now.

"I'd like that, you wanna get out of here?" I propose trying to get this done as soon as possible.

"Whoa slow down little lady, I gotta get you a drink first. Get to know ya a little." I internally roll my eyes because what he means is 'Whoa slow down, I need to drug you first.'

He clearly senses my hesitation and puts the dots together.

"You're not here for a friend, are you?" This time I actually roll my eyes and that's enough for him as I then feel something cold and metal press against my ribs. Shit.

"Don't make a scene and walk with me." His words are like daggers. Or maybe that's just the actual dagger pressing on my side. Who knows?

"Eric Mannings, FBI!" I hear Hotch shout with Emily and Derek right behind him, guns out, pointing at him. Immediately my position is flipped, there's now a knife on the throat, not my side. I'm in a headlock, about to get my neck cut and the only thing I can think about is how bad this guy smells and how hot Emily looks in her FBI vest and with her gun out.

He is going back and forth with Hotch until I see Emily out of the corner of my eyes, getting a better position. Uh oh, this is either going to end with a bullet in his body or, Emily's badge and gun on Strauss' desk. I can only hope for the first option. Everyone has been ordered to shoot if they have a clear shot which is exactly what Emily had right now. BANG! I scrunch my eyes as the shot rings awfully close to my ear.

I feel the grip on my loosen as he falls down on the floor, shot in the neck. Wait why was that hot- OMG STOP. Emily immediately rushes over to me and helps me away from everyone as Derek crouches to check his pulse and everyone else from the perimeter comes in.

"Hey are you okay?" Concern evident in her voice.

"Yeah, yeah I'm okay." I lie through my teeth. In all honestly even though I acted okay, I did just get held with a knife at my throat by a homicidal maniac, so you know, kinda shaken up.

"No you're not." Her tone gentle yet commanding.

"No, I'm not." Tear prick at the corner of my eyes, threatening to spill.

"Oh honey, come here." She pulls me into her warm embrace and I cling to her.

Honey.

Like sure we have nicknames but a pet name? Never crossed that line before. Does that mean.. No stop being delusional she'd never like you back.

A few tears escape my eyes as I lay my head on her shoulder.

"Let's go home yeah?" She says, as she begins to guide me out the bar and into one of the SUV's.

"Yeah, that sounds nice."

Time skip to when you're back at Emily's apartment.

"This isn't my place?" I question as we pull up to the block of flats.

I look around the familiar neighbourhood and realise we're at Emily's place.

"I can take you home if you want I- uh I just thought you wouldn't want to be alone after what happened, I know I wouldn't. But, I can leave you alone if you want?" She rambled as her hand subconsciously rests on my thigh. My breath catches in my throat slightly at this action.

"No, no, em. It would be really nice to have some company actually. Thank you." A blush creeping onto my cheeks, thinking about spending the night with Emily Prentiss, alone.

As we walk out the car and into her flat, our hands intertwine. It sends sparks through my body, as cheesy as it sounds. We finally make it to her flat and she gets her keys out, unlocks the door and we walk in.

"Make yourself at home; do you need anything?" She asks, instantly fussing over me.

"I'm okay, em, really. I just need you." Now it was Emily's turn to blush. She looked to the ground and muttered a quick, 'I can do that' as she walked me to her bedroom.

I was passed a pair of old sleep shorts and an oversized hoodie with the words 'FBI Academy' written across it. It was the comfiest jumper I've ever worn; and it smelt like em which was a massive bonus. Emily made her way to the bathroom giving me time and space to change into my pj's.

As I was slipping my shirt off so I could but on the jumper she gave me I heard the bathroom lock click and the door swing open quicker than I could cover myself.

"Oh god! I'm sorry!" She squeals covering her eyes.

"It's okay em don't worry about it! We're both girls, nothing we haven't seen before, right? And plus, I still have a bra on." I try to tame the blush that's infecting my face, but that fails as soon as she responds to my words "I wish you didn't." She says it so quietly I think I imagined it.

"What was that?"

"Nothing."

"I mean I wouldn't object to it, if you're being serious."

"Really?"

"mhm"

She creeps closer to me, our faces inches apart. Her warm breath fans across my face as my arms lace around her back as hers reach for my hips.

"Honey you have no idea what you're doing to me right now." There it is again, that damn name. If she keeps that up I'm going to melt.

"I think I have some idea."

"Oh really?"

"Yeah, I think I do."

"Prove it."

Without a seconds hesitation I smash her lips against mine in a heated kiss. The months of built up tension, flirting, jealousy, all spilt into this one kiss. I feel her hand travel from my waist to the back of my neck and she pressed my head in and deepens the kiss. Her tongue grazes over my bottom lip asking for entrance which I happily grant opening my mouth. I let out a small gasp as she pushes her tongue into my mouth, instantly dominating and not leaving an inch unexplored.

We pull away and the look in her eye tells me all I need to know. She gently guided me to her bed until my knees hit the edge and I sit down. I shuffle back and she sits next to me pulling me into her lap.

"Promise me something." Emily says abruptly. "Of course, anything." I respond, wondering where this is leading.

"Be mine, forever. Be my girlfriend." Her dark eyes lock with my y/e/c ones and I immediately respond, "I want nothing more than to be yours em." That's all the incentive she needed to kiss me with that same passion again. Hungry lips make contact with my collar bone, nipping and sucking at my skin, already leaving marks.

This was going to be a long night, not that I'm complaining though.

A/N: LMAO THIS WAS SHITEEE. It's okay though it's 1am so cut me some slack and I started writing this ages ago and completely forgot what I was planning to write so I just made it up as I went along. Sorry for the crappy chapter!

ALSO PLEASE LEAVE REQUESTS!!

#wlw #lesbian #sapphic #wlw fanfic #emily prentiss x reader #lesbian pride #wlw pride #emily prentiss x you #emily prentiss x female reader #emily prentiss #emily prentiss x y/n #criminal minds fic #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction

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hellowoolf · 4 months

Text

electra heart

pairing: din jarin x prostitute fem!reader

summary: with the softness of your body you have bought your piece of luxury, clawed your way to opulence, and wait now on the lustful whims of the rich and powerful. what havoc is wreaked when the only client you've ever loved, your mandalorian, finds you in the golden smoke of a gala on canto bight?

warnings: mention of alcohol, prostitution, reader is literally a prostitute, reader goes by alias "edie", din calls her “edee”, angst, quick mention of killing (bounty hunting), porn with plot, SMUT, soft!dom din, unprotected piv, beskar humping (sue me), tiiiny bit of degradation if you squint your eyes and pat your head and rub your tummy, little bit of begging, fucking in a literal suit of armor, creampie (if i left out any, let me know <3)

word count: 4.7k

authors note: first din fic alert !!! hand on heart i meant to keep this light hearted. and that’s what counts…right ??!!!!

woolfie’s masterlist

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you had been small, once. a young thing born into the streets of tatooine, conjured by them, slipping dirty like a curse through the city with a beggar's cup. in the day, the sand heated to glass and fire, and you trailed in the shadowed coattails of men the passers by could think your father, but with nightfall came the slow, syrupy suck of warmth from land, and even pressed up against building corners and doorways you shivered in the starlight. and what a cruel thing it was to know—to be, even then, so certain of your own poorness. you stuck little fingers through the holes of your clothes to cork the heat of your skin, and reconciled, in the meanwhile, with your birth as a nomad with no place to journey.

oh, but you loved the ships. with festivals held on the plains came warships and single-seat fighters, great discs of silver settling the baking sand, and you circled the throngs of people to let the gleam of sunlit metal blind you, if only for a moment. with scrap metal and a child’s palms you laid your plans there in the tatooine sand, to seek out whatever precious lavishness was left out there for you. beads of sweat jeweling down your wrists you thought yes, you were fit for that sort of life.

it became clear to you, when you came of age, that your body was your only currency for purchasing such plans. kicking stones while you wound through the cityscape, you supposed the home you could make in a brothel, and the money, too, made for an even exchange, and besides, you’d absorbed worse than man. you tap a manicured nail down your glass and hum with the bellish chime. where had all those girls gone? where were they now? you wonder if they’ve caught wind of you from here, if your perfume has traveled that far. you hope so.

“my edie, how are you honey?”

kel talbot is even blonder than you remember him. with his chest to your back in the sprawling porcelain of his bathtub he’d admitted, along the skin of your shoulder, that it wasn’t real, the color. he dyed it when he went home to naboo, he said. still damp and soapy he’d tipped you an extra 5,000 credits, for your discretion and your loveliness.

“i’m well, kelly. it’s always so wonderful to see you,” you lilt back to him. and because you can’t help yourself, so prone to indulgence now, you add, “have you been off home? i haven’t seen much of you here.”

he’s lovely, really, and delighted that you would ask. “as a matter of fact, i have. my mother’s been remarried a sixth time, if you can believe it. a great big ceremony and all, and i really couldn’t miss it.”

you smooth your free hand down the lapel of his jacket, black silk gleaming between the pillars of your fingers as you drag them. you wouldn’t mind him, for the night. “i really miss you so much when you’re gone.”

he steps closer, flattered little smile, and you look up at him through your lashes. “don’t stroke my ego, edie, it’s unbecoming,” he whispers, so thoroughly pleased with your attention on him, and you tug on the bunch of his coat in your palm.

“do you want me to stroke something else for you, kelly?”

he lets out a shuddered breath across your face. heir to an agricultural fortune on naboo, he is all tradition, brought up on pomp and circumstance and a set of shoulders shaped for the head of a long dining table. your innuendos fall heavy on him, always. he doubles over with them, sinks into you to realign himself upright. edie, edie, someone called you edee once, it means jaws, teeth, he’d told you. when it came time to shed your first name, your real name, it’d come naturally. edie, edie. kel is ripe for biting now.

“i–i have somewhere to be, honey, i can’t.” you pout at him a little. he tips generously. “don’t look at me like that.”

you set him back by your hold on his suit and he brushes himself with his palms, dusting the fabric from whatever coital indecency you’ve smeared on him.

“i’ll let you know when i’m in town again, okay?” and he offers it like a favor, and you suppose he hopes it to be one, so you nod with a gentle sigh.

“go enjoy your night, kelly. i’ll be here if you change your mind,” you promise, and with a tender smile his platinum hair filters back through the ballroom.

if you’re honest, you don’t really know the purpose of this event to begin with. canto bight shines bloated with galas and gamblers, and you dance, ephemeral, through the lot of them in search of clientele. scanning the dancing gold and satin of this crowd, collected on the bottom floor of the hotel you work from, you find mostly elderly men, married and elderly. you certainly aren’t above servicing either, though you went out tonight for the delights of it more than anything else. draping yourself in the inordinately expensive wrappings gifted by your previous clients, arms and collarbones dripping over with fine jewelry and precious gems, you enjoy the ritual of it, now. you enjoy the rest of it, too, with the right sort of client. you drag a red gemstone, set in gold, to and fro along its chain, your first little opulence left with the credits on the windowsill. edee, edee. a passing, devastating thought: like the girls from that first whore house you hope he smells you, hope through the filter of his helmet he’s struck with the scent like a sharp ache that sweetens in the middle. and—

you should’ve missed it, really. an inconsequential glimmer in the face of all the light you’ve gulped down these past years, but still you seem to find it, the little silver spotlight convexing through the curve of your glass. it points right on you, the beam, and you tilt the glass back and forth to watch the light twitch along your sternum. your body tenses with the stretch of a memory, of you in the sand on your back with the sterling starships jumping into hyperspace above you. but surely there’s no ship here, you reason, and when you look up, he’s right there. they all wear the same getup, creed driven and plated, but you are certain it’s him. with a cock of his hip and a shoulder leaned up against the wall you are certain, so certain, and he is right fucking there. it’s all coming back to you now, his beskar in the rotting wood of your doorway, little words in mando’a, your name, the first one, in his mouth. your mandalorian.

gliding through the dancing bodies of the ballroom—they part for you, now—you shiver with the breeze of your dress, a great sweeping curtain of red silk. you don’t remember, really, when he stopped coming to see you, only that you were wholly and inappropriately devastated. you missed the stick of him between your thighs, the way he loved you. you were so sure he did, back then, and you find that still, as this diamond sea of people carves a path for you to him, you are still sure. you can feel your own wetness collecting at your seam; you cannot unlearn this want for him.

he doesn’t notice you until you’re inches from his side, and still he won’t turn his head. from his peripheral you are unrecognizable, you suspect.

“which one?”

and you don’t think you’ve ever seen him move the way he does as your voice echoes behind his visor. it’s a startled jump, a straightening, a tip of his helmet to the side. you think he’s frightened, at first, a heavy terror that collects through the tendons of his hands, but the fear leaves easy, sugars into wonderment. he says your name, arced in question and through the rasp of his modulator.

you shake your head, look out at the ballroom. “i don’t use that name anymore.”

“i–you…” he shakes his head, knocks something loose, “...what are you doing here?”

you snort. “i could ask you the same thing.”

“i have someone i’m looking for.” and it should be ominous—i have someone to kill here—but his voice is still soft, airy with the sight of you. you turn back to him and nod to the crowd.

“yes, i ask again, which one?”

“you know i can’t tell you that.” and he says it like a memory, like the sweet juice of nostalgia on his lips, he says it like i remember you.

you shrug. “i hoped maybe the rules had changed.”

“mm,” he hums, “century old creeds don’t seem to, i’m afraid.”

you giggle with the youth he brings you back to. it’s so easy, falling back here with him. the tilt of his helmet leans to his other shoulder, dark visor tipping down your dress, and your skin fizzles.

“what’s brought you here, then?”

you mirror the angle of his neck. you know, you know. he grunts around something thick in his throat, your name, the first one, you think. he remembers what you said.

“what do i call you? now?”

the delight that twists through you is a sacred one. “edie.”

this does him in. his head tips back against the wall behind him, steadying breath filtering out. “edee?”

“not quite. e-d-i-e.” he lifts, with what seems a great effort, his head back up to look at you. you continue, softer, “but almost.”

and because you know your mandalorian, you see in the shift of his boots on the ground that he’s as ecstatic as his metal plating will allow. his hands twitch, and you want them to touch you, need him to touch you.

“come dance with me, mando.”

he does his best to hesitate, really, but then you’re out among the swaying people, one gloved hand at your back and the other clasped between your fingers, closer now than you’ve been since he last came inside you some years ago in whorish darkness. you squeeze him thinking of it, the stick and the smell, and he presses you further against the gleam of his chest, yes, i remember, i remember. it’s only here, molded around him, that you feel how much bigger he is, the broad width of his shoulders cemented out past the lines of him you used to tend to.

“you look…sort of different.”

“is that so?”

maker, you love the sound of him like this, so close in, so insistent on whispering, so incapable of doing so. “mhm.”

“doesn’t hold a candle to the changes you’ve made, cyar’ika.”

“mm,” you hum, “you know, it’s funny, i feel much of the same.”

he bunches his hand a moment in the silk of your dress. “the glamor hasn’t pulled you under?”

your laugh reverberates against his chestplate. “oh no, i’m sure it has. i just mean i’ve always liked shiny things.”

he groans, quiet and tight. “and why’s that? you like your reflection in them?”

he unlatches you from his chest to spin you around before fastening you back to him, and your scoff whips an arched path around you. “please, the vain one between us has always been you, mando.”

he lowers his head, great secret on his lips. “i haven’t shown my face in decades, edee.”

you can hear his tongue on the word, and you know he hasn’t said your new name, similar as it may sound. the lapping scoop of mando’a washes you over again with the memories of him. and laughing, again you are laughing. you love this bit. “yes, i do remember that part. though i find it awfully excessive that you prance about the galaxy in this welded jewel of a thing.” you knock against the beskar with a knuckle.

“welded jewel. you’ve gotten metaphorical while i’ve been gone.”

“this crowd enjoys it.”

he glances over and around your shoulder. “and you enjoy them?...this crowd?”

you suck on your front teeth to think on it. “you know, most of them don’t ask for it. not all of it, anyway. it’s mainly a lot of talking, now.” and it’s true. even above the lust, this powerful lot is lonely, irrevocably lonely. he nods, and as your heart hammers and wails you tilt your head up to his helmet to whisper against his visor, “you never wanted to talk, did you mando?”

the band of his arm around your back constricts again, a gruff admission, “no, i didn’t.”

he never did take anyone else in that little brothel, it was only ever you. the other girls liked to watch him pass by through the hallway, luster of his armor glinting in the low light, but he walked a tight line to your door, knocked twice, soft as anything. even in that wooden box, a bed and a window and an empty dresser, you remember the metal of him grating at the joins as he tried to make you feel something. you remember, too, that so green, so newly wrung out as you were, your limbs went limp before his credits ran dry, but he defected to your will, watched your body and worshiped at its altar. when your spine loosened and your hips unwound, still with time paid for, he stepped back into the sanded stench of tatooine, hand-cupped pile of credits on the windowsill. yes, the windowsill and the i’ll come back for you and the creak of the floorboards, you remember it so well.

“how much do you charge these days?”

you’re tightening your thighs together as you sway with him. “don’t patronize me.”

“i’m not.”

a ribbon of air releases from your nose, be steady. “20,000 credits.”

and he doesn’t flinch, only lets the hand around your back slip along the gloss of your dress, drawing a line above your ass with his thumb, the line he won’t cross without purchase. “i’d pay it.”

you can’t help this now. “will you?”

whatever mark he’s come to kill tonight is slipping through his fingers, but you fill that space just fine. his helmet tilts, and you feel a leather paw come up to retrieve that little red necklace from the hollow of your collarbone. the pad of his glove passes over the gem once, twice, body tightening and buzzing in metal. “this is mine,” he chokes.

yes, it is. you nod. and he’s decided, it seems. with a modulated groan and let’s go in your ear, he’s shepherding you from the ballroom, hand tight at your waist as you find your way to the elevator. and what with the ceremony of your mandalorian, the tediousness of his armor coming off, you fill the elevator shaft with the smell of your drooling pussy and the air thickens with the buzzing glow of you both together again, but you do not move. the tickle of his eyes through tempered glass rubs behind your ears, still a killer, always a killer, you think, just as you are forever what you have always been. the two of you, frozen in blood and sex, the only warmth you’ve ever known. this reality pulls behind your tongue and you gag on it.

ding. the doors slide open.

you press a thumb to the screen on your doorknob and your mandalorian crowds up behind you, lets you feel the cool touch of his body, the heat that peeks out at the corners. with thick fingers squeezing at your waist and the hard curve of his helmet at your hairline, your knees buckle with the thought that you might have loved him, too, perhaps fatally, but as the lock clicks open and he pulls you inside you suppose it doesn’t matter much now.

you’ve worked this room for nearly a year. a window expands from one wall to the other, beams the morning light and warms the bed sheets, and in the drab of afternoon, twinkle of the city just barely cresting over the sunshine, you watch the people below. drunkards and lovers and princes, you scratch their heads with the cliff of your nail, nose against the glass and breath fogging there, drawing up their mythology and smudging it with the skin of your palm. now, though, with the constructed starlight of clubs and casinos shouldering its way through the night’s darkness, the room bathes in polluted light and the faint sound of wealthy indulgence. there is no windowsill for your mandalorian to balance his payment.

“come here, edee.”

he’s sat himself on the edge of the bed, hand running up and down the metal expanse of his thigh. you stalk your way to him, ruck the hem of your dress up passed your knees to straddle his leg, and slowly, so slowly, through honey and slick and years of parted wanting, he brings his hands to your sides. you splay your fingers on his helmet.

“been a long time, mandalorian.”

he hums in agreement, tips of his thumbs just grazing the underside of your breasts over the silk of your dress before running down again, relearning the ends of you. “my cyar’ika,” he whispers.

your cunt clenches, sobs with his sounds and the pressure of his thigh. breath shuddered and indignant you drag your pussy along the plate of armor. throat tight with a whine you ask him, “how do you like it now, cyare?”

his body takes to the slice of mando’a in your mouth like water to sand, something dark and heavy, and his hips tilt up to you as you undulate your cunt along him again. the coil of you both is raveling taut and knotting at the edges, perhaps permanently now, twisting back into the shapes you used to make together. and it was always this way between you, this dancing walk to madness; with the head of his cock he fucked a shard of beskar into you, you think, that first time, and in every meeting since he’s rut his hips to claw the thing back out, but your body has absorbed the alloy of it.

“i want you to fuck me like you missed me.” a shuddered breath, a secret thought, and then: “did you miss me?”

and that question doesn’t come from the metal. no, with your palms warming his helmet you know he’s asking from the fleshy lines between the silver pieces. this is a bloody question. the drag of your cunt against his leg continues still, toes curling beneath you with the cold sting through the fabric of your panties, and perched here atop him you suppose your honesty costs you little in the face of all the rest you’ll give up.

“yes, i did.”

his hands collect your dress like water, silk spilling out between the fingers of his gloves, as he bares you to him, and his visor tips with the sight of you, a feat of topology he memorized so long ago. with a brush of red fabric against your ears you cling to him in only the little scrap of lace that licks along his leg with the wet kiss of your cunt.

“this pussy get wet for me like it used to?”

fuck.

“yes, yeah,” you breathe out, little bites of ecstasy weaving their way from your clit to the nape of your neck.

“oh, my edee, look at you,” and he grips a hand in your hair, pushing your eyeline down to watch the gleaming strip of want brushed and rewritten over on his armor. “you like drenching me like that? fuck cyar’ika i’ll leave this hotel like this and everyone will know i’ve fucked a fucking whore.” fuckfuckfuck. you remember the vein along the underside of his cock, want him to hurt you with it now.

“so fuck your whore, mando, you’ve paid for her,” you plead, but he drops his helmet to your forehead, the both of you still awe struck at the starlit gash of slick you’re dripping on him as your hips gyrate.

“you’re no more patient than you used to be,” he chuckles, but the wobbled rasp of his voice strips him all but naked to you. his hands grind you harder on his body and you wail, neck open as your head falls back. the pleasure sinks its teeth in you now, all hot bloodlust and bubbling open like seafoam.

“fuck, mando, i–i’m gonna come.”

“yeah, that’s it, right here, make that pussy gush for me and then i’ll fuck her open.”

ecstasy knocks through your arteries as your body pulls tight against him, and with desperate hands he grabs at you, around your asscheeks and between your shoulder blades, to feel you jerk with it. he’s groaning something deep and unforgivable watching you move, but already you’re looking for the weight of his cock.

“fuck me, fuck me,” you heave into his shoulder as you slump over, and he’s nodding silently with you, yes, i remember, i remember. the preamble of fingers and tongues is being leapt over, but neither of you seem to mind. he pulls the leather of his gloves off to maneuver you onto all fours on the bed, and after working his pants open with the bared warmth of his fingers the pads are back on you, running down your back and up your thighs. the heft of him pokes at you and you’re clenching with the feeling, the memory, again the memory. from between your open legs you drop your head to watch him pump his length, fingers tan and thick and a little tattoo between them.

his head catches at your opening and a whine spills from between your teeth.

“louder, cyare,” he grounds out. another inch in and you keen.

“fuck.”

his palms find purchase on your side and he anchors himself there, partway within you. you both whistle out whispered breaths listening to the sound of you joined together, him pulling out a centimeter before sinking it back in, fucking you with the head of his cock.

“oh, it’s just the fucking tip and i’m stretching you already, cyar’ika,” he moans.

“more,” you mewl, “i want more.” and really that’s always been your problem, you suppose.

his hips are speeding up now, wretched little humps into the tight clutch of your cunt, but he abstains from the whole of it. “fucking beg me for it, edee, i’ve waited this fucking long.”

into the sheets, bunched by your fingers and your jostling knees on the bed, you moan, “please, please, please, fuck me on your cock, cyare, i need it, please.”

the piece of himself, the metal and his creed’s tongue, that he rutted into you all those years ago comes roaring at him now, is cracked open in the air of your voice, and he stutters with it. he fucks you like retribution, hips slapping against your ass with a wet crackle, and you’re screaming, suddenly.

“that’s it, edee, that’s it.”

the walls of your cunt pulse velvet around him as he punches in and out of you, cock reaching up like he’s trying to touch your tongue with it, run through the length of you with his steel and grunting. your body blooms for him, petals open like it always did. when was the last time fucking him felt like your job? it’s all coming back to you now, crying at the foot of your bed, missing him dearly. you have always been a professional despite the intimacy of what you do, but you feel wholly unprofessional here.

“fuck, you’re so fucking tight, it’s like you’re sucking me back in,” and you can’t help your clenching now, “yes, edee, again for me, again.”

and you do, pulsing and clamping on his shaft, and he nearly wails with the feeling. the hum of his voice through the helmet protects him some, but maker you know him well, years worth of your mandalorian, and so you hear it all clearly, him melting behind the metal and fusing at the edges. you push away the thought that he’ll pay you for this.

“maker your pussy feels so fucking good, i’ve never stopped—ah—never stopped fucking thinking about it.”

the jut of his chestplate bites your skin as he pulls your hips up but you barely feel it. “no?”

“never, never,” he repeats, and his own babbling eggs him on, you think, as he thrusts impossibly faster. he fucks you like he needs it, has always needed it, and you’re reminded again that you loved him before, that you love him again, now, perhaps, but it’s all so hard to see clearly with the tight chain of pleasure running up your spine.

slick seeping from your hole around him you moan, “feel so f–fucking full of it, fuck.”

a frantic hand comes around to your front, pulls the red gem from your chest to lay along your back, and watching the glint of red and gold that he left you bounce on your skin makes him growl and choke. “fuck, fuck, i’m so close, cyar’ika.”

he bends to meet your back and drops the weight of his helmet on the wing of your shoulder and you might not survive the angle of his cock in you now. you’d clasp your hands in penitence if they didn’t hold the both of you up, because this luxury, him greeting your body like it’s his final gutted conquest, is the last you’ll ever beg for.

with both of you sputtering your souls out on the duvet he groans, “i miss your old name, edee, give it to me again.”

the begging makes you pulse, but you shake your head. your name is your first and only born inheritance, and when you grew old enough to realize it you’d had to shed the thing, or rather hide it, stashed away, untouched.

“please cyar’ika, just one more like this, just like this, your real name.”

your moans screech with the tragedy of him pleading with you this way, and bellow because you want to let him. yes, you love him now, and you wheeze, “i don’t know your real name, mandalorian.”

this knocks the wind from him and it blows out along the back of your neck but the piston of his cock in you continues, heightens further, and you’re both on the precipice of something devastating. he groans out breathless “din, din, it’s din,” and then, “maker please let me use it.”

as deep and jagged as the naming cuts you, you have never felt this hallowed a thing. him inside, and knowing what to call him, is unlike any bliss you’ve ever known. “din,” you wail.

he nods at your back. “yes, yes, din. let me use it.”

at last you’re nodding, crown of your head bobbing back on his body, and a torrential downpour of your name spits from his mouth, slides down his helmet and onto your spine. and the coming is unlike all the rest, a slow climb, a painful clawing that rips your flesh from the bone, but suddenly you’re both heaving with it, his warmth pumping through you and your gushing slick sliding out. for a moment you panic, worry for the windowsill, for the way it always ends. but your din. the panic catches on din and smokes away.

your limbs give out and you meet the mattress with your eyes closed, aching and a little empty, but mostly as satisfied as a desperate creature like yourself is capable. you’re reminded of the clank of his armor as he rights himself behind you. it’s so easy to forget it, what with how human he feels.

“din.”

the rattle of beskar stills. he returns your name, the real one again.

i love you, i loved you then, and you loved me. no. no, you think, it’s far too true to say. so instead: “will you come find me again?”

the bed dips as he sits on it and a gentle glove strokes through your hair. “always, cyar’ika. i’ll come back for you.”

and because you believe him, din, you do not lift your head to watch him place the credits and dissolve away. you’ll save the shine of him, you vow, for the next time he arrives for you. your mandalorian.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

#din djarin #din djarin fic #din djarin smut #din djarin fanfiction #the mandolorian #din djarin x reader #din djarin x fem!reader #hello woolf

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reilleclan-blog · 6 months

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The Duality of Love in Cyberpunk 2077

I find it interesting how a decent amount of ppl compare Songbird and V to Johnny and Alt's relationship b/c of them being netrunners and V and Johnny both defying big authoritative figures to save someone they love. Or care for(usually when I say the word love I mean care for) anyways. Which I agree but I started to think of Rogue and Johnny's relationship.

Johnny was straight up cruel to Rogue maybe their relationship wasn't the best or they had other "terms" during their relationship but for the most part, Johnny was not a "good lover". He cheated on Rogue I think Alt as well? And yeah he was mostly selfish throughout their relationship. Even though in the game Alt says "Johnny can alter his memories" it's funny how V is still shown how much a bastard Johnny is. Not like he ever tried to hide it really.

But, so Johnny showed Rogue time and time again that he was a "bad person" or specifically a "bad lover" but everytime Johnny had some bullshit cooked up he always went to Rogue for help. Even when Rogue protested against the things they did, she still decided to help him through and through. Also during the raid on arasaka(ending) with Rogue, Johnny can leave Wayland(to basically die) Rogue gets upset at Johnny but (in a way still sounds like how she did in the past) rages at him but still fights with/for him. Later on Johnny will blame Smasher for Wayland's death (but if he had helped Wayland, he wouldn't have died)

Basically, Rogue put up so much bullshit to help Johnny no matter what it was. Interesting way to be loved/show ur love. Rogue was emotionally manipulated but still always put her life on the line to help Johnny. And he was probably the last person she should've helped but she did it anyways out of love or eddies?(mostly love). But with V and Song, Song lies to V(Song is betraying V's trust) and at the same time, V can do the same thing to Songbird BUT they both still had the choice to protect one another. Whether it was V still sending Songbird to the moon or Songbird still deciding to protect V from dying by some Raging AI. Johnny just takes and takes and even 50years later he's "changed" but can still be a fucking bastard in the end and Rogue pays the price. Diving in head first to save someone she loves. And possibly redeem herself as well.

And Johnny rushing into arasaka Tower to "save" Alt, I honestly felt like he did it for Alt but genuinely it was more for his ego? Rogue calls him out on it? And I think I agree. He could never let shit go, and in a way it felt like Alt's death was used as an excuse to blow shit up(taking shit to the extreme or to prove to himself that he was worth arasaka's time💀). I have no doubt in my mind he loved Alt but did he love her the "right" way, never. It made me think what if Johnny wasn't such an asshole and he decided to pay attention to his gf could she have actually ASKED for his help.

He claimed Songbird only got to the moon cause of "luck" but really she had support SOMEONE THAT LOVED HER AND BELIEVED IN HER. Helping, If only he could've been there for Alt maybe both of them could've had a "happier" ending. Songbird had V with her to the very end. Whereas Alt was alone and Johnny was too.

Idk I might've been all over the place with this but I really wanted to talk about it. I love this series so hopefully no one takes this shit to heart lol I'm just saying. I wonder. Uhh take care

I didn't know what to title this, maybe I'll change it. Edit: The Duality of love in cyberpunk? (Is that a good title?) asking for a friend if anyone has an enny to spare , I'm seeking financial assistance ty

#cyberpunk 2077 #commentary #johnny silverhand #rogue amendiares #alt cunningham #song so mi #rpg

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kurosstuff · 1 month

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Can I just say- I 100% believe exorcists? Are "tools" in a way-

Also note may not make to much sense since I'm like half asleep writing this

Gonna be rambling♡ sorry

I mean- their fighting machines. Killing machines. Doesn't matter if their angels are not. We KNOW winners and angels in general are the passive types. The pure types. But like everything their needs to be a guard in place. Protectors of that very innocence.

To preserve that naive innocent pure beings. The winners brought forgiven of the "small" sins they did in the mortal realm. Considering it a .. easy mistake. Everyone makes mistakes right?

But not angels.

At least that's what their told. That's what excorists in particular are told. They themself commit a sin. Murder- slaughtering in such a cruel inhumane way for beings so pure- an impression of sorts.

I always wondered. How come they have masks resembling demons? What if its to hide behind it. Hide the sins their doing? I mean. Angels can not sin. Excorsists are angels- heaven born(as I believe they'd be) made to be the ones to slaughter. To commit horrible cruel things.

What if its just to show what their created to be similar too? As a mockery of sorts?

Like their committing a sin. Yet- their still pure? Like showing the complete opposite of them while wearing the mask that looked like demons.

We see vaggie always on edge(rightfully so) and the only one she isn't? Chsrlie(ofc) but ehat if that's all they all knew

Violence. Being cruel. The ones who speak and we see most of- vaggie and lute? Are both rude and their automatic thought most times is violence. To handle matters with fists(or whatever) instead of speaking it our most cases.

Like when vaggie fell? Lute was cruel. Ripped her apart with no remorse. But wouldn't that also make her in trouble too? In a logical sense. Like. She was cruel to a THEN angel before she fell. Wouldn't that have been a sin as well?

Or is rules different for the beings made to be neither pure or sinful. Is that why their allowed in heaven? Allowed to stay above with the winners?

Their teacher Adam a crude rude man. The first man- who thinks of himself most cases- ego to big but hiding behind that is a hurt man. Who lost both his wives to the same man. The very same man who he had a whole army of his daughters to kill the sinners. As if a act a revenge.

And as we have seen glimpses of- kinda? Idk angels are impressionable like that of a toddler mimicking and forming themself to fit thst of a parent or a figure above tjat they see all the time.

So the excorsists are filled with hate. Burning hate - rage filled against the sinners below. Demons in general. Which in hindsight is odd.

Why would they bother be mad. Be pissed. Be filled with such a hateful thing when their in a place opposite of thst? In a stress free place. Adam even said it himself they don't HAVE to worry for stress(I forgot the exact thing he said but yeah-)

So. Their tools. Made to be unfeeling other then hate for the beings that made them have a purpose. To kill.

Idk if any of thos made sense it's 3 am I'm half a asleep and I let my mind wander once again♡♡

#hazbin hotel #hazbin lute #hazbin hotel lute #hazbin hotel exorcists #hazbin vaggie #hazbin hotel vaggie #hazbin hotel heaven #hazbin hotel headcanon

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latenightbreezeinheaven · 2 years

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Natal aspects from my natal chart + my personal experiences (only negative aspects) *Part-1* ❤️‍🩹🥀

Sun square moon

📌I've seen people mention this aspect as a cause of a clash between your inner mindset and your representation to the outter world and that's quite true for me. I always have to try to have this another personality to communicate well with other people depending on who they are regardless of what I'm feeling inside. My emotions are restricted everytime by myself usually and I call it "smart and clever" but actually, as a human being, I also struggle a lot with my emotions behind the curtain. I always get stuck between what I want and what I should want. It's always a war.

Sun opposition pluto

📌Well, this is quite of a devil aspect as for some people but it's not very true for me. Amber Heard has this aspect and also other bad people in the history have it too. In astrology, sun represents father and pluto is kind of a destruction here. My father has been physically absent for most of the time since I was born. As he has to work abroad, he rarely stays with us and he wasn't even with my mom when I was born. Also, he's also mentally absent. He's kind, nurturing (kind of) and also favours us a lot unlike my mom. He's calm and he loves us a lot too. But he's an alcoholic. When he gets drunk, all of his angelic side disappears and the devil comes out. He doesn't beat us but he annoys us a lot including my mom. And he never nurtures me in a way a father should. It's like he's just there as my father as a duty because he's a father by genes. He is aggressive at times and also he tried to slap me once and he also said cruel things to me. He doesn't treat my brother like that and I'm the only one who gets that unfair treatment. On the other hand, he still works enough to support us financially so I'm thankful for that though so I just have a love-hate relationship with him. I also have daddy issues. I think he's definitely a part of the reasons why I got those issues.

Moon square pluto

📌Oh dear. Moon represents mother in astrology. My mom. She has always been abusive to me. Mentally abusive. She's controlling, impulsive and manipulative. She also has anger issues and she doesn't trust me too. She's also overprotective which makes her a toxic mother. She has a lot of issues which she should have solved by herself and not put them all over me. My grandfather (her father) was an alcoholic and a cheater so I don't blame her for her issues but why do I have to carry them with me too? Because clearly, I'm not the one responsible for them. I think she's also cheating on my father right now but I just don't want to investigate anymore. I know she's cheating. My intuition never lies. And there're also many suspicions and reasons to point it out. And maybe my father knows it or maybe not but it's not my problem unless it hurts me physically. I'm not going to interfere between them because I don't want to know the truth. I also don't care. She also slapped me mutiple times before and she yells at me everytime and blames me for everything. I developed kind of a "omg I'm sorry that's because of me" syndrome because of her. I don't wanna say I have mommy issues but my ideal mother figure that I have created in my head is absolutely not like her.

Sun square mars

📌I'm psychologically damaged as a child and also as a teen but I'm planning to use all those bruises as my flaws and embrace them with me because they made me become who I am right now. I love who I am at this moment. I mean I love my strength and my mindset, not my appearance and.my body. I have this intense energy to turn all my emotional weaknesses as my strength. I also kinda like it when people are intimidated by me. I love to lash out my anger in a physical way such as doing workouts or just moving around or sometimes by making myself hurt or sometimes pushing things onto the floor and crushing them into pieces. I also think I have a big ego. I also have a strong sexual desire. I just have this wild, animalistic energy when it comes to those cases like drugs and sex. I hope this makes sense.

Moon opposition mars

📌I have anger issues and mostly, I cannot control my anger till to this day even I'm trying to repress them. I tend to ignore those feelings but however, after like 5 minutes, they always come back onto the surface and then, become worse and it explodes then. I am also a bit impulsive. I do things without thinking so most of the time, it leads me to mistakes and double mistakes and triple mistakes. But I don't regret what I'd done though. My brother even said that when I get angry, it's really scary. I'm a bit upset because I don't want to scare my brother off like that. But no one knows the intensity of my emotions like I do. I am trying my best to control them and use them as my power but yeah I'm still failing most of the time.

Mercury square mars

📌I curse a lot. You will not be able to count the times I say "shit" or "fuck" or "dickhead" or things worse than those during only a day. It's not because I'm angry or sad. My natural habit is just like that. I'm used to talk like that and I don't find it aggressive or rude. I just see it normal. But when I get angry, it worsens and my one sentence contains like 100 shitty words. I also tend to say whatever I want without even thinking. Same energy as moon opposition mars. I am also quite short-tempered and people say I have a sharp tongue and my words can make them hurt but I don't think I can. However, I love to win people by words but I also rarely win because my anger always takes over me. There are people who actually got hurt because of my words though but they deserved it.

Mars square pluto

📌I love power and I love being dominant. I used to hate people who use power and authority to scare or win people but now, I don't really hate them. When I'm challenged, I'm not afraid to fight those obstacles out of my life too. I like to have dominance over people for idk why reasons. I want to be admired by people as someone who can influence them in a good way. I’m also really really ambitious. I usually don't have strength to fight back my insecurities and my bottle of emotions but I have this type of energy and mentality that whatever I do, I'm going to make it succeed if I really want it and it's definitely going to happen in the end no matter how difficult the situation is. "I see it, I like it, I want it, I got it" vibes. But not over things like love or a specific person or things out of our control. I'm only determined to possess things that can be achieved by my own efforts and my perseverance.

-Some people say that my pluto and my mars are strong because they make many aspects to my inner planets but I don't understand it clearly. Whatever, people tend to avoid me and my friends always leave me out from their group saying that I'm too much for them and that they cannot handle my energy. I have no idea what they mean but maybe this is related? Or maybe I'm just too selfish or bad for them? I don't know.🤷🏻‍♀️

This is the end of this post and I was really emotional while writing this, so probably I might have written things that shouldn't have been published but I hope this is okay because you all don't know me in real life. Anyways, these are just my personal experiences and not facts, so just take them with a pinch of salt please. Thank you!❤️

#astrology observations #astrology notes #astro observations #astro notes #astrology #natal chart #sun square mars #sun square moon #moon square pluto #sun opposition pluto #moon opposition mars #mercury square mars #mars square pluto

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explicit-tae · 2 years

Note

Can you give a brief description of namjoons wife escaping and why? Cruel intentions

I was going to make it brief but - then I decided to make a full length fic about it from start 🥲 so hopefully this isn't too much 🤣 Cruel Intentions (part 6) coming soon 🥹

Cruel Intentions: Organized Crime

Namjoon finds you captivating - but for the sake of his pride, ego and heart, he sure as hell hopes you are who you say you are. However, you aren't a foreigner coming from the States to Korea as a stripper - you're an Undercover detective coming to take down multiple Mafia families in Korea by all means neccessary; Bangtan being your top priority.

Genre: smut, dark, Mafia! Namjoon x Undercover! Reader

Warning: oral sex, hand job, grinding, dirty talk, blood, mentions of death, public sex, creampie, riding, ass slapping, dark themes, violence, hair pulling, choking,

Word Count: 13, 867

"Who's she?" Namjoon questions, eyes watching you - a foreigner no doubt. He leans forward as he watches you from the V.I.P area of the club - an underground club ran by Bangtan in which only those with large pockets could attend.

Jimin picks up the glass of champagne. "Like her?" Jimin smirks. He knows you would be a hit amongst the men in the club. While the woman that worked either in the clubs as dancers and bottle girls or the Brothel as escorts, there was a level of shyness they had. You, however, came from the West - along with a handle of other women.

"She's confident." Namjoon responds, eyes never leaving the way you danced. Confident and popular - having a foreigner in their club only meant you'd be the eye-candy for a bit to feed off whatever fetish these men had. You stood tall and looked them in the eye - an act that women don't often do. "Where is she from?"

"The states." Jimin takes another sip of his champagne. "Recruited from our port in New York. She prefers not to work in the Brothel and instead out in the club area." Jimin glances at Namjoon, his Hyung not blinking as he watches you closely. "And she's good. The amount of money she's made in a few hours is more than what Ari made this month."

Good was an understatement - you were amazing, and it appears as though you were doing the bare minimum and not giving it your all in the slightest. You were a fresh face - and a foreigner at that, it's guaranteed you'll be the talk of the club. If you kept this hype around you, you'd grow to be successful in Bangtan and could probably even work your way up.

"I think you're drooling." Jimin teases, eyes sparkling with mischief. He knows Namjoon's type and it was you - the mysterious foreigner who had the confidence of a leader and beauty capable of taking down any man.

"I think you're seeing things with that big imagination of yours." Namjoon retorts, yet his eyes never leave yours. You're swaying your body quite seductively, lingerie hugging your skin tightly. Your hands run up your hips to your stomach and chest, a seductive smile on your lips.

"You haven't blinked once, Hyung." Jimin isn't judging. Hell, you were a sight to behold. It's a shame that you weren't going to the Brothel - he was sure a night with you would be worth it. However, he was also sure - positive even - that Namjoon had his eyes on you (literally) and you'd be off limits.

"What do we know about this girl?"

"Y/L Y/N." Jimin responds. "Did a background check on her. Estrange from her family and moved from New York." Jimin says as if reading from a physical form of your background check. "When she interviewed with Hobi and I, she said she just wanted to get away from her life at the States and start fresh."

"In South Korea?" Namjoon furrows a brow. You were now on your knees, back arching as you danced. "A long way to get away."

"We don't ask a thousand and one questions while interviewing, Hyung." Jimin rolls his eyes. "She wasn't shady in the slighest and she's sex on legs. She's making us and herself money."

For the first time in minutes, Namjoon looks away from you. He glances at the door where Ji-Yong stands. "Bring her to me." he commands. He lifts the bottle of vodka from the table across from him and pours himself a shot.

"Want alone time?" Jimin questions. "And condoms?"

"I'm not fucking her. She isn't working in the Brothel."

"When has that stopped any of us?" Jimin scoffs. "You're 20 and I can name a handful of women you've had already."

Namjoon sighs and gives Jimin a pointed look. The younger man just shrugs and smirks, sauntering towards the door. As he opens it, Ji-Yong and you are climbing the stairs to enter. "Your girl has arrived." Jimin winks. "I'll let the others know to stay away from her."

Namjoon doesn't respond. Ji-Yong allows you to enter first before bowing to Jimin and Namjoon. You stand at the doorway, unsure what there is to do here with the unknown man.

"Close the door, Ji-Yong." Namjoon commands, and soon it's just the two of you in the V.I.P room. It's a large sitting area that overlooks the entire club, mainly the large dance floor and stage. It has its own private bar and a large couch that lines the walls. "Y/N?"

"Yes?" you respond quickly. Namjoon takes notice that you aren't nervous - you don't lower your eyes or cower at him. He was a tall man, yes, but you've met taller. He was wealthy and you understood he was one of the bosses by the way he dressed and spoke to those around him.

"Sit with me." Namjoon says. It wasn't a question - it was a demand. He sits on the leather couch, legs spread open. He pours two shot glasses - one for him and another for you. He takes hold of the shot glass that has less liquor in it, not going unnoticed by you.

"Okay." you nod. You stroll towards him, heels clicking against the floor. Namjoon doesn't hide his wandering eyes. Your hips sway as you walk, and he ponders if this is how you naturally walk or was it to appease him.

Namjoon is taken aback when you sit in his lap, directly on his crotch. Both of your thighs are on either side of him. You tilt your head, eyes never breaking away from his. "Aren't you going to talk?" you hum. Your fingers trail the hem of his expensive suit.

"You're bold." Namjoon states. He doesn't hesitate in touching you - you're in his lap after all and seemingly made the first move. His hands place themselves directly on your hips.

"Do you want me to get up?"

"No." Namjoon answers, possibly too quick. Yet, you knew his answer before he responded. If he wanted you to move he would've moved you already. "What brings you to Korea?"

"I always wanted to come." you shrug. "See what Korea has to offer. Experience a new culture and eat amazing food."

"How long have you been here?"

"A few weeks." you respond. You trail a finger onto his chin. "You have such pretty lips."

Namjoon clenches your hips. No one's ever complimented his lips before. He was complimented for his looks, sure, and his height and body. Yet, his lips were never one.

"As do you." Namjoon murmurs, his eyes darting to your lips. He notices they're shimmering and glossy.

"Really?" you smile. "Do you want to taste them?"

Namjoon can feel his throat tightening. He was never the one to be tongue tied. He was young yet he had his fair share of women - none of them acted like you. "Which ones?" he retorts, licking his lips.

"Whichever ones you want." you respond without a thought. You were good - and surely not new to this.

Namjoon chuckles. He shifts beneath you, grasping your hips to make sure you don't fall off of him as he leans back into the couch. His eyes never leave yours. "You've danced in a club before?"

You shake your head.

"Are you lying to me, baby?" Namjoon furrows a brow. "You were a natural out there and made more money than my best girls did."

"Maybe I'm just better." you shrug your shoulders.

"How much better?"

"I can show you." you lean closer to his face. "If you promise to show me what you do with your pretty little lips."

"Do you know who I am?" Namjoon's voice deepened to a whisper. "You work under Bangtan which means you work under me."

"I know. Kim Namjoon." you whisper back, lips centimeters from his. "That's rude of me. Do you prefer RM?"

Namjoon would've preferred RM from his men - Namjoon from those close to him. Yet, the way you said his name sends goosebumps upon his arms.

"How do you know my name?"

"You aren't the only one who's done research, baby." It was a risk, yet you were known to take them. Your teeth clasp down on Namjoon's bottom lip and you lightly tugged on it. "I've done my own research on you and Bangtan."

"Is that so?" Namjoon is amused. Whatever a foreigner could know of Bangtan was less to none.

"Mhm." you hum. "I know who stole your product."

Namjoon stiffens. His eyes narrows into yours - eyes dancing with mischief. Quickly, Namjoon wraps a hand around your throat and begins to squeeze. "Who are you?" he demands.

You do the same to him, manicured nails digging into his flesh. With all your might, you push him back enough for his grip on your throat to loosen. "If you want to play rough, you'll have to take me to dinner first." you joke, smirk forming onto your lips. "I'll let you know everything I know...for a price."

"How do I know you aren't lying to me?" Namjoon spats. He's ashamed of himself for harden cock beneath his suit pants.

"How else will I know about your product being misplaced?" you tilt your head. "Or maybe...I know a certain rival Mafia family has set you up. How else would the police suddenly come to your port, steal your product but not arrest those involved?"

Namjoon scans your reaction, taking in your words.

A month prior, one of Bangtans ports was infiltrated by the police. They took nearly all their product before a fight broke out. However, no arrests were made and Bangtan was down severeal million won by the incident.

"I won't ask you again. Who are you?" Namjoon needs to know just who you are and what you wanted.

"I told you who I am. Y/N. A stripper that works in this illegal strip club you're running." you giggle - Namjoon bites the inside of his cheek at your words. "But enough about me. Let's talk about what I want from...you."

"Money?" Namjoon snickers. "How much?"

"You must think I'm such a whore." you sigh. You lean down and rest your forehead against his shoulder. "But no, I don't want money. I want something more."

Namjoon feels your finger place with one of the buttons on his shirt.

"I want you." you admit. "I want you completely. All to myself."

"What do you mean?"

You lift from his shoulder and look into his eyes. "You know what I mean. Don't be daft." you smirk at his, glossy lips appearing inviting that Namjoon just wants to entangle you in a kiss - and have his cock between those same lips. "I want to be your girl."

That's not what Namjoon expects to hear from you. "My girl?"

You nod. "You know. Your girlfriend." You place a finger on his lips. "Someone you take on dates, introduce to your friends and family." you lean to his ear. "Someone you can fuck as much as you want."

Namjoon shudders when he feels your tongue lick along his ear.

"And in exchange - I can be useful to you."

It takes Namjoon a few moments to respond. He needed a way to recollect himself before he did. "How could you be useful to me?"

"I've been in Korea for a short time yet I already know about your issues." you kiss his nose, not caring about the consequences. "Imagine what else I know and could find out."

"What do you get out of this?"

You shrug. "Well, for starters, I get to have you." you respond. "You'll have my loyalty to you and Bangtan. But, I'm not the one to sit around and wait for a man.”

Namjoon furrows a brow.

"I don't want to sit around all day and wait for you to come home and entertain me." you scoff.

"Who says I'll even consider taking you home with me? As my girl at that?"

You give him a look. Then, you're laughing. "Because, baby. If you didn't want me..." you begin to grind in his lap slowly - dangerously slow. "...you wouldn't be hard right now."

You're good. You had him right where you wanted him and Namjoon is embarrassed. He was a man, not an adolescent boy who was with a woman for the first time.

"Like I said. I'm not waiting on you. I want to work directly next to you."

Namjoon snickers. "No woman does that."

"Then make an exception." you retort. "I'm not going to be just any woman. I'm going to be your woman."

"You sound sure of yourself."

"That's because I am sure of myself." you peck his cheek before standing up, pushing his arms off of you. "A powerful man would be nothing without a woman by his side."

Namjoon widen his eyes.

Hoseok gasps.

Taehyung furrows his brows.

Jimin hides back a laugh.

"What's his name?" you hiss, bringing your first down against the officer's cheek - a dirty cop who was in charge of infiltrating Bangtan's port.

"I-I don't-"

You bring down another first against his cheek. The man is tied up and crying now, nose bloody and lips busted. "Don't play games with me."

It took a week for Namjoon to agree to your terms. But, it wasn't in vain. Before he could ever agree to you being his woman and being a crucial part of Bangtan, he had to investigate just who you were. You were an intelligent woman who not only knew her worth, but understood (in a way) the life Bangtan lived.

Seokjin was the one who had done a thorough background check outside of Jimin's - you were clean. There wasn't even as much as a speeding ticket under your name. You lived in New York prior to coming to Korea - he hadn't asked you why Korea out of all of the world, and it couldn't have been what you stated while on his lap.

After your background check was cleared, Namjoon had spoken to his older Hyungs - Yoongi questioned your motive while Jin was more lenient. The ultimate decision was Namjoons - did he want you to be his woman? He was young and didn't necessarily need a woman by his side as of yet, but - you fascinated his mind constantly. Every night he visited the club to see you and each night you sat in his lap and made time stand still.

"They paid 200,000,000 won for us to infiltrate the port and steal the drugs!" the man whimpers. His eyes are wide - shocked as the men behind you. You were a woman dealing in men's business, a rare site to behold.

"Give me a name." you grasped his hair and tugged it. The man falls onto the ground and hisses.

"She's strong." Hoseok murmurs. You were now dragging the police officer across the floor, knocking him into whatever you could to get information out of him.

"And hot." Jimin shakes his head. "A shame you got her before I did." Jimin places a hand on Namjoon's shoulders.

"200,000,000 won to be a mailman?" you pout your lips. "If you won't talk I'll have to go harder with you." you kick the man so now his back was on the ground, eyes staring up at you.

You release a gun from your hip. Namjoon steps forward. "Where'd-"

"I got it from your car. It was left unattended." you answer before he can ask. "Don't worry - I know how to use it." you send him a quick wink before turning back to the quivering police officer.

"She's turning me on not going to lie." Jimin murmurs and all Namjoon does is glare.

You turn off the safety of the gun and place your hands on the trigger.

"SVT!" the police officer screeches. "I-I don't know who exactly, but I know it's SVT."

"Typical for a man to lie to me." you shoot the gun directly above his head. The man's crying now, but you don't care. "Give me a name, sweet cheeks."

"Woozi." the officer screeches, spitting blood beside him. "His name was Woozi. Blond hair, pale skin."

"We know who he is." Taehyung scoffs. "Why would they steal our product when they have their own?"

"Our product is pure." Namjoon responds. "No doubt they're selling and gaining money from our shit." he hisses.

You turn around to face them. "Is that all the information you needed?"

Namjoon nods.

Jimin smiles at you. "You're such a natural." he compliments. "How are you so-"

"Jimin." Namjoon hisses.

"Don't start, hyung. I'm not going to steal her away from you."

You smile at Jimin in return. Then, you aim the gun back at the officer. He widens his eyes and shakes his head.

You fire the gun at his knee. He screeches at the sudden impact of the gun. "No one likes a dirty cop." you pout, feigning sadness. "Now, where's that money they gave you? I know it was cash. If they're bold enough to steal product from Bangtan then they have some sense to not leave footprints to track."

You don't wait for the officer to respond. You begin opening every drawer you could until you see beneath his desk was a black leather bag. Opening it, you smile. "Jackpot." you sing-song, holding it up for Namjoon and the rest.

"Wow." Hoseok is in awe at you. You were ruthless - attractively so.

"Let's go." you hand the bag to Jimin and wrap an arm around Namjoon. "I want to try this new restaurant in Seoul!" you beam up at him and Namjoon could do nothing but nod.

Namjoon opens the back door to the black SUV, allowing you to enter first before he does. He nods his head to the driver before he presses a button on the side of the seats. A privacy window closes and now it's just you and Namjoon as the driver drives back to their destination.

"How are you familiar with guns?" Namjoon asks you. The way you held his gun with such confidence - it wasn't your first time. He was certain you've done this many times before.

"Gun laws aren't as strict in America." you scoff at him. "I'm surprised you have this amount of guns. Where do they come from?"

Namjoon doesn't respond. He eyes you, eyes squinting at you. You only tilt your head at him, a small smile forming onto your lips. "You don't trust me." you state matter-of-factly.

"You come into my life, demand to be my girl then assault a dirty cop." Namjoon snickers - it all sounded just as crazy as it was when he witnessed it. "I'm having a diffult time believing you are who you say you are."

"Understandable." you shrug. "Eventually you'll see that I'm on your side."

"Is that so?" Namjoon furrows a brow. He leans back into the seat and spreads his legs. "How do I know this for sure?"

You bite your lips, an act that doesn't go unnoticed by Namjoon. You placed the gun that was on your hip besides you. You swing your legs around his to sit upon his lap. You place both hands on his cheeks. "Such pretty lips." you smirk - you're teasing him, you know it makes him flustered. "Who else is going to help you bring down SVT and other families who are going to threaten Bangtan?"

Namjoon is amused, so he humors you. "And you know how to take down Mafia families?" he chuckles.

You nod - if only he truly knew who you were. You've taken down many families back in the States while you were still in the Police Academy - it was risky being a rookie, yet you were trusted enough to do the job. You and a handful of other newly graduated from the Police Academy were set out to take out Mafia families in other countries within the organized crime district - South Korea being one of them.

Your mission being undercover could take years, especially when it involved families such as Bangtan that've been around for decades. Their connections spanded outside of Korea and worked throughout Asia, Europe and now in the west - New York being one of the main ports.

Now, you didn't choose to be a stripper - but it brought you a direct invite into Bangtan. You refused to work in the Brothel to get what you needed, but you weren't opposed to sleeping with any of them. You had a job to do and in the end, these men were just that - men. Sex ruled over the male species and you were going to use it to your advantage if needed be.

"Why are you adamant on helping?" Namjoon adjusts you on his lap. He leans into your neck - you smelt of bourbon and sandalwood and it was becoming his all time favorite scent. "Any woman from the club or brothel would be happy with being by my side and outside of the sex business."

"I am happy. Grateful even." you murmur. You kiss his forehead lightly, glossy lips leaving your mark. "But like I said, baby, I'm not one to sit around and wait on a man. It's obvious you need a womans touch."

Namjoon nods his head with a throaty chuckle. "A woman's touch." he leaves a trail of kisses upon your neck. "What does this woman think Bangtan should do?"

"Depends. Does Bangtan have a leader?" Though you're undercover, you still have a job to do. Bangtan is a priority to take down - but the other families would be easier to ruin. They weren't as powerful as Bangtan - their name meaning bulletproof is evident enough of such.

"We have branches." Namjoon swallows - you're grinding in his lap as he speaks. "Our fathers have handed down each branch that was given to them to the next generation - me and my brothers."

"Oh?" your fingers trace his exposed collar bone.

"Uh huh." Namjoon bites the inside of his mouth. Large hands catch your hips to steady as you grind upon him. "No one is higher than the other. Think of the 7 of us as the Main Branch that holds the family together. Those who work with us also have their own families involved, but they'll never be considered the main branch. Makes sense?"

"In a way." you quickened your pace - he was where you needed him to be, talking your ear off. "What does each brother do?"

"You have a lot of questions." Namjoon moans - his cheeks redden.

"I'm helping, remember?" you place a kiss on the corner of his lips. "The last thing rivals expect is a woman taking them down."

Namjoon stops your grinding. You lean back to look into his eyes - they're nearly unreadable. But there is a glint - lust, sure, yet he doesn't fully trust your judgment. You don't blame him, it took you a while to trust people, as well. However, the information you had of Bangtan and the main family was that Namjoon's intelligence exceeded those you worked alongside that were much older than he was. Gaining his trust accessible easily, but you were stubborn and not prone to giving up.

"Hm." you knit your brows. You reach into your back pocket and took out your lipgloss - the same lipgloss that weakens Namjoon's state of mind whenever you wear it.

Namjoon doesn't tear his eyes away when you gloss your lips with the lipgloss and then pucker them up. "Do you want to see my lips wrapped around your cock?"

Namjoon coughs, cheeks a bright red. "W-What?"

You giggle cutesy - there wasn't anything you weren't willing to do to get the job done. As long as you manage to take down families outside of Bangtan to gain the trust of Namjoon and his family, you'd have to use what a man could never turn down. Sex.

"How about we play a little game?"

The backseat of the mercedes was fairly large. You could slide off of Namjoon's lap easily and go between his legs. Your hands tap his belt buckle playfully, waiting for Namjoon to get the hint.

"I'll suck your cock so good that you'll cum for me. On my face or down my throat." you wanted to laugh at the dumb look placed on Namjoon's face. "But, you have to talk and tell me everything I want to know. If you don't then you won't cum."

Namjoon gulps. You're tugging at his belt buckle, not taking anything less than his agreement.

Namjoon was big - no, huge. It surprises you how hard he is and you take a deep breath. The things you do for justice.

Namjoon gasps when you wrap your lips around his tip, tongue swirling in circles. "Talk." you say against his tip, a trail of saliva sliding down his length.

"Jin-hyung...deals with weaponry." he stutters out, closing his eyes. If he was going to speak, he couldn't watch you in action. It's enough for him that you're already doing it plus to hear your slurping and gags was a bonus. "He smuggles them from outside the country and - shit..."

You bring him entirely into your mouth, throat aching yet you had a job to do.

"Yoongi-hyung is known mainly as a hacker. He's taught a few things t-to Tae but..." he clenches his fists. "You're sucking it so good, baby."

Your hand slaps his bare thighs and Namjoon jumps. "S-Sorry." he murmurs. "Hyung hacks into Government programs all around the world. We use what we need for blackmail or eve theft."

Namjoon was a fool in lust, telling you everything you needed to convict them when the time came - all you needed was a little more evidence.

"Hoseok is more hands on. He recruits people - more assassins and snipers as back up. He himself even gets involved if he needs to but," Namjoon takes a deep breath. Your now sucking the tip of his cock while stroking the length. "we try not to get our hands dirty."

So they let their men do most of the dirty work - smart, you'd admit.

"Jimin handles most of our businesses. The clubs and Brothels and he recruited the girls." Namjoon graps your hair. "You have to slow down or I'm gonna cum."

"Not until you tell me everything." you retort, slapping his tip against your tongue. You can taste the saltiness of his pre-cum.

"Jimin uses the girls sometimes to get information from our targets. Or he does so himself...he's...known as Himeros. It's guaranteed he can find anything out if needed be."

Jimin appeared as such - a sweet looking boy with a hint of sex appeal. You were off limits now being known as Namjoon's girl - yet you desire to see Jimin in full action.

"Taehyung does light hacking and trafficking. He's also the eyes and ears of Bangtan."

"Like a spy?" you lick your tongue on the side of his cock and Namjoon hisses and nod.

"Y-Yes. Like a spy." he stutters. "He deals with interrogational torture. He will get anything out of anyone. He also trafficks art pieces."

That would explain a series of highly expensive one of a kind art pieces have been reported stolen.

"Jungkook is just coming into the business. He's still a kid, yet he deals with Narcotics and a hefty amount of drugs. Everything is pure - it's what Bangtan is known for."

You conitnued to suck - he deserved to cum, you supposed, for giving you the information needed.

Namjoon closes his eyes once more, fingers tightening its grasp into your hair. You were going at such an alarming speed that hew as sure he was going to cum any second now if you didn't slow down.

"He's still learning after the death of his father, but he's golden." You were unsure of what Namjoon meant by golden, but maybe Jungkook was just a fast learner.

"What about you and I?" you hum. "What would we be doing?"

Namjoon catches the way you mention the both of you. He pushes his head back and twitches. He cums right into your mouth - so much so that you struggle to swallow and a some drips out.

Namjoon is catching his breath when he hears you cough. He pokes one eye open to see you wiping your lips.

"Shit." Namjoon curses. He looks around the backseat for anything he can use to give you, but finds nothing. He takes the bottom of his shirt and wipes your lips. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be." you assure. You rest your head against his knee. "So tell me. What would you and I be doing?"

"A little bit of it all. Heists and such of that sort."

"Heists." you hum. "Do you guys rob banks?"

"We rob whatever we feel like robbing. It's something we began doing as a side job. It isn't easy in the slightest - but we always get the job done."

You nod your head. You had enough information for now. "Are we almost to Seoul?"

"We are in Seoul now. But," Namjoon places stray hair behind your ear. "If we're going to be together. You'll have to meet the rest of the family."

"All there is missing is...Jin, Yoongi and Jungkook?"

Namjoon nods. "True. But, we'll start with my mother first."

You frown. "Don't you think that's...too soon?"

Namjoon furrows a brow. "Nothing is too soon. Besides," he smirks down at you. "you already managed to find out valuable information and made me cum all in one hour."

You've never been nervous as you were now. You didn't get nervous - you were known to excel in anything you did. Always the top of your classes in school and remained on top all the way until after you graduated the Police Academy.

However, you also never had a boyfriend. Namjoon was your boyfriend. It felt weird calling him this. To you, this was a job and it all was fake.

However, to Namjoon, it wasn't. You've gained a part of his trust that no woman has as of yet. You proved yourself useful to him by discovering information on their missing product. Not only that, but you weren't afraid of getting your hands dirty. Witnessing you go hard on a man like that turns him on and also makes him proud to say that you were his girl.

Never having a boyfriend meant you never had the experience in meeting their parents - especially their mothers. You had a few friends in your time and all they spoke of was of how their partners mothers hated them, being emotionally far too attached to their sons to not be considered emotional incest. You steer cleared from dating and only rather hooks ups here and there to satiate you when your hands or toys couldn't.

So to say you're unprepared and nervous was an understatement.

Namjoon brings you into the home that belongs to his mother. It's cozy, having a warm feeling upon entering. You catch pictures littering the walls of Namjoon throughout the years and even some familiar faces of Hoseok, Jimin and Taehyung. The other boys you assumed were Jungkook, Yoongi and Seokjin.

There's soft humming coming from where you assumed was the kitchen. You follow Namjoon, his hands tangled in yours as he brings you to said kitchen. There's a woman who's back is turned, hair cut into a bob and she's currently washing the dishes. There's a pot on the stove boiling and you conclude that she must have known Namjoon was coming.

"Eomma!" Namjoon calls. He lets go of your hand and gives you a look. He then goes to his mother and gives her a tight hug.

You sighed. He had a good relationship with her. The way she wraps him in a tight embrace is possibly the fact that he hasn't seen her in a while.

Her eyes meet yours and you could feel the tension change. Her smile slowly fades as she looks towards you. She glances at Namjoon and murmurs something in his ear.

"This is Y/N, eomma." He nods your way. He gently grabs her wrist and brings her closer to you. "She's my girlfriend."

Girlfriend felt weird coming from his own lips. He doesn't recall ever having a girlfriend - or a girl that he brought home to his mother. He was waiting for whenever he had the chance to meet a woman that was involved enough in his world - and now he has.

You quickly bow when she turns back to you. Americans and Koreans had different cultures and you could try to be respectful while you were in her presence.

"Eomma," Namjoon murmurs. "Why don't you make Y/N and yourself some tea? I have to make a phone call." he suggests and you're mentally screaming at him to not leave you.

When Namjoon leaves the kitchen, his mother turns away from you. She starts the tea just as her son asks and all the while you take a seat at the island table. You inhale, unsure what else to do but wait for Namjoon to return.

When Namjoon's mother turns back around, she places two cups of tea in front of you. Again, her lips curl to the side, but it appears more like a grimance than an actual smile. Yet, you can't blame her - you're a stranger in her home that her son claims to be his girlfriend. Men like Namjoon don't regular bring girls home to their mothers unless they're sure said girls are who they're serious about.

You and Namjoon weren't serious - yet. You're unsure how long you'd be undercover, maybe a year if you're lucky. Taking down Mafia families weren't easy, yet if you used Bangtan to your advantage - it could be as easy as A.B.C.

Namjoon's mother gently pushes the tea towards you. You grab it into your hands, nodding your thanks to her. You take a sip after blowing it. It was surprisingly tasty; enough amount of sugar yet not too sweet. It had a fruit-like taste. You weren't much of a tea drinker to begin with but whatever this was had surprised you.

Namjoon's mother holds out her hands once you drink the rest of the tea. You're unsure what she wants, but her eyes are cast down to your hands. You place a palm into her hands and she immediately begins to touch it, tracing the lines.

"Eomma." Namjoon's voice breaks the two of you out of the trance. "You aren't a palm reader."

Namjoon leans to her level as she murmurs something.

"Is everything...okay?" you ask. She has yet to let go of your palm nor has she spoke actual words to you.

"Yes." Namjoon chuckles, tint on his cheeks. "She thinks she can read palms. Sorry-"

"It's okay." you shake your head. "W-What does my palm say...?" You weren't one to believe in such things, but it doesn't hurt to try.

Namjoon's mom whispers into his ear again and now Namjoon is shaking his head. "Eomma..."

"Is everything alright?"

"Yes." Namjoon nods. "She, uh...says your life won't be easy as of yet." You gulp at his words. Your palm begins to sweat and you can feel Namjoon's mother's dark eyes on you.

Namjoon sighs when his mother takes his own hands in her own. She glances between both of your palms.

"What's she-"

"She's reading our marriage line now." Namjoon rolls his eyes. "Eomma..."

Namjoon's mother drops your hands and goes to speak to her son once more. You wipe your palms - not sweaty because of the weird palm reading of your future - against your pants.

"She says..." Namjoon turns to you. "...that we'll have a successful marriage."

You laugh dryly. You didn't want to be rude to his mother, but there was no way in hell you were marrying this man. She was correct with stating that your life won't be easy. You were beyond fucked if Namjoon or anyone found out who you truly were - but the Government had made sure to seal every and all records of you prior to leaving the county. Now you were just Y/L Y/N that resided in South Korea.

The dinner with Namjoon's mother was eventful. She acknowledged you more, but still didn't speak with you. You're unsure of what her voice sounds like because she only spoke in hushed tones. Still, the food she made was delicious and what you considered a traditional Korean cuisine.

Namjoon had communicated between his mother and you, making sure to inform her the way you handled the dirty cops. That tells you that she is well aware of her son and what he does - but it wasn't shocking. Bangtan was functioning for decades before Namjoon took his father's place. She married straight into Bangtan so if there was anyone that knew more about Bangtan than Namjoon would have to be his mother.

Leaving a few hours later is a sigh of relief. You can say that Namjoon was a different man around his mother. He never touched you intimately and seemingly became a different man - a slightly clumpsie dork so to say. If you'd met this Namjoon before, you'd be positive that this wasn't the same man that belonged to Bangtan.

"You'll have to move in with me." Namjoon states as the two of you stroll through the door of your apartment. "If you're going to be my..."

"Your girlfriend?" you scoff. "And why? I'm comfortable here." The apartment was small, but cozy. You weren't much of a cook so the kitchen was a good size for easy dishes an you had a washer and dryer in unit which made it even better in your eyes.

"I don't doubt you aren't." Namjoon glances around. "But, you've made your presence known to the cop so we aren't sure just who he's told as of yet. You'd be safer with me surrounded by Bangtan."

You didn't think that far - he was right. An obvious con in living with him would be you wouldn't have any alone time to report back to your superior. It would be more difficult to have notes around that you'd need to keep everything together. You sigh lowly - you'd have to do everything digitally. Yoongi and Taehyung being hackers is where your paranoia lies - you'd have to get on Namjoon's good side so he would never have the chance to hack into your devices.

"Penny for your thoughts?"

Namjoon's voice startles your thoughts, but you don't show it. "I don't want to intrude on your space." you lie, stepping closer to him. "I already somewhat forced you into being your girl. I don't want to force my way into your home."

Namjoon wraps you into a loose embrace. "It's for your own safety." he murmurs. "You aren't forcing your way in. I want you there."

You nod your head. Mafia men get attached easily, you note.

"What do you think we should do, Noona?"

You've managed to move in with Namjoon and steer clear from his bad side. It was a bit draining having to be someone else 24/7 with no break for months, but you were always one step closer to your goal.

You met the rest of the main branch of Bangtan. Jungkook was just as young as Namjoon told you - but you weren't expecting to see a baby face teenager that should be in school barking orders around to men twice his age. He was cute and reminded you of one of the boys you trained alongside at the Police Academy. But just as he was cute, he was deadly and knew how to work his way around a gun of any size.

Yoongi was standoffish and never spoke too much to you, but you concluded that was his personality. Namjoon wasn't lying when he said Yoongi could hack into any system in a matter of minutes - he was someone you'd remain on good terms with for the sake of your operation.

Seokjin was kind when he met you, giving corny jokes that even made you laugh sometimes. He warmed up to you first upon arrival and would even visit Namjoon often to ensure you were alright - coming with his wife. You and her only spoke a few words to one another, the both of you not the same. She was what you weren't - a pillow princess, a term that shouldn't be insulting. While you are heavily involved in Bangtan, Seokjin's wife was not, nor was Yoongi's girlfriend. They decided it was easier to stay far away from business and enjoy the benefits that Bangtan gave.

"Ah, Jungkookie." you smile at Jungkook who gives you a shy one in return. "Have you eaten? You look hungry."

Maybe you were a bit sensitive when it came to Jungkook, but you blamed it on his appearance. He was only a teenager - a child of course - involved in a criminal organization where school didn't seem to be his first priority. You learned the death of his father a year prior, but the way Jungkook doesn't appear affected in the slightest has your mind wandering to just how the man died.

"Ah, I'm alright for now." Jungkook shakes his head.

"Are you sure?" you lean forward. "I have some lamb skewers left over. I know you and Yoongi love them."

Jungkook's eyes slightly widened at the thought of you giving him lamb skewers.

"No." Namjoon calls as he enters the sitting area you were seated. "If you keep feeding him he'll start to have a crush on you. He's already making heart eyes."

Jungkook glares at Namjoon but doesn't say anything. He just sits back into his seat and crosses his arms.

You shake your head. "Let's get back to the topic at hand then." you turn to a sulking Jungkook. "What do you mean what should you do?"

"Ah, noona, SVT wants to meet with us." Jungkook uncrosses his arms.

"You can call me by my name, Jungkook." you couldn't help but smile. For a boy surrounded by criminals daily, he was respectful. They all were, which was what surprised you the most about being in Bangtan.

"Hm. I like calling you noona." Jungkook glances away as if in deep thought.

Namjoon rolls his eyes. You were growing to like Jungkook more than you should. He was by no means jealous - Jungkook had a pure aura around him that made you always gush whenever around him. Not in a way in which he should be threatened by his dongsaeng, but you considered Jungkook to be like a yonger brother - always offering to feed the boy even when he just ate.

"Can we get back to the topic at hand?" Namjoon sighs. "SVT has asked for Bangtan for a meeting, yes."

"Why so sudden?" you furrow a brow. "We haven't told them about our knowledge in them stealing product, right?"

Jungkook shakes his head, but bites his lips. "There was a run in with them a few weeks back, but nothing major."

You turn your eyes to Namjoon.

"Nothing dire, only a verbal altercation then we went on our way." Namjoon shrugs.

"So they want to meet you all? Randomly? To discuss what?"

"We'll have to go and find out." Namjoon responds. He claps his hands towards Jungkook. "Get up, we have to head out soon."

"I want to come." you insist. You would finally get an insight on SVT to report back to your captain.

Namjoon shakes his head. "There'll be no women there. I don't want them to get the wrong idea."

"More the reason for me to come." you insist. "Stop acting like I'm nothing but eye-candy. I know my way around any type of weapon you own."

Namjoon knows this, and this is what he wants to avoid. He wasn't threatened by you - nor was anyone in Bangtan. They respected you greatly in the short amount of time they've known you. Jungkook always speaks highly of you whenever you aren't around and Jimin always teases him for having a strong partner by his side. However, not all men were as comfortable with having a woman in the front - especially one that could rival them.

"Please?" you cross your arms. "I'll sit in the car. I just wanna go."

"Okay." Namjoon caves, and when you smile up at him he couldn't help but return it.

"Simp." Jungkook murmurs and Namjoon throws him a glare.

"I knew listening to you would result in us getting killed." Hoseok hisses lowly to Jin who just shakes his head in return.

Jin had suggested that bringing guns to an event like this would cause nothing but a war - so they hadn't. Leaving the guns in the car was their first mistake and Hoseok ponders why none of them ever listened to Jin. They outnumbered SVT - 7 against 4. However, these 4 all had handguns pointed at them at this moment and each wore smugged looks.

"This is why you brought us here?" Namjoon asks, his eyes directly on Seung-cheol who held the gun straight at him. "We let you slide after stealing our product."

"Is money looking better for SVT?" Hoseok tilts his head. "I heard your own product was killing the customers. Are you planning on stealing more anytime soon?"

"It is about that time." Jungkook pipes up. "Is that why you wanted to meet with us? Steal more of our product becauses yours is shit?"

"Shut up!" Jeonghan hisses.

Your eyes watch from inside the car, windows tinted to hide you. You shake your head at the lack of common sense these men had - but luckily they had a woman on their side for the time being. The amount of firearms - especially military grade firearms - in the car would make an unexperienced person nervous.

"Bangtan basically owns the nation." Yoongi pipes in for the first time. He was growing bored of sitting in an abandoned parking lot. "Casinos, clubs, brothels, restaurants and more. We've been lenient when it comes to you vultures."

"Now it's only getting disrespectful." Jin continues. "What is it that SVT exactly wants?"

"Easy." Joshua shrugs his shoulders. "Take down the main branch and the problems go away. What Bangtan has will soon be ours."

Namjoon scoffs. "SVT doesn't have a plan...do they. Bangtan isn't just the main branch. We have eyes and ears all around - even outside of the east."

"Bangtan's worked for many years to get where we're at. We won't be taken down easily."

"You say that but..." Seung-cheol looks down at his gun pointed at the seven men. "...you can't use your fists in a gunfight."

A few shots rings out and hits Seung-cheol directly in the chest. He drops to the ground, gun dropping to the side. Joshua, Jeonghan and Hoshi all gasp and go to Seung-cheol's side.

Namjoon turns his head as he hears footsteps coming towards them.

You're holding the machine gun in your arms as you pass the seven men all eyeying you with wide eyes. You stop in the middle between Bangtan and SVT, eyes on the 3 men trying to stop the blood from rushing Seung-cheol's wound.

"W-Who is she?" Joshua murmurs, eyes scanning you holding a large machine gun. He's never seen a woman hold a gun in his life, let alone something so big.

"Bangtan's done negotiating with trash like SVT." you say aloud to them. "Now if it was up to me, you all would've been dead months ago when you stole our shit."

"Noona..." Jungkook calls, but his voice doesn't come above a whisper.

"Y/N." Namjoon steps closer to you. "You're going to start a war."

You turn to face Namjoon and the other 6 men. Their expressions are one of the same - all astonished by your sudden actions. You snort. What you witnessed back in the States only prepared you for moments like this. Your goal was to take down these families - no matter how you truly done it in the end.

"A war already started once they pulled their guns out on you." you say, blinking towards the 6 men. Your intention was to appear distraught by the thought of losing any of them.

You turned back to 3 men hovering above the now dead man - Seung-cheol - and sighed. You pulled the trigger of the machine gun and managed to not lose control of it. Gasping, grunts and yells are heard throughout the sound of the machine gun. After a few moments, you stop - throwing the large firearm down. 4 members of the SVT are down - multiple gunshot wounds littering their bodies. Blood is oozing from said wounds and staining the concrete.

"Do any of you have a knife?" you turn around to ask and only Jungkook makes a move. He rummages through his pockets and pulls out two pocket knives. "Good, Kookie. Come with me, yeah?"

Jungkook nods, swallowing. He follows you towards the bodies. "What are we doing, noona?"

"G7 and SVT are current in a Gang war, right?" Jungkook nods, he recalls telling you a few days prior when he came over to see Namjoon. You'd made fixed him ice cream - 4 scoops with different amounts of sweet toppings to top it off for any information he can give you - and like all teenagers his age when he was bribed with something he liked, he sung like a canary.

"Okay," you nod. You take one switch blade from his hands. "Cut off their thumbs. G7 is known for taking trophies from their victims."

Jungkook nods, doing as you're told. The sight was gruesome - especially watching from where the 6 men were standing. However, they weren't disgusted by you and Jungkook - if anything, they were proud? Satisfied? No one - besides their own men and themselves - had killed for them, especially not a woman.

Once you cut the last thumb off, you open the jacket from one man - Hoshi - and carve a large 'G7' onto his chest. "That way when the rest of SVT comes, they don't suspect Bangtan. Come, Kookie."

You and Jungkook place the thumbs in a discarded plastic bags and make your way back to the other men. As you approach, Taehyung steps forward. "How do we keep Bangtan's name out of this?"

You sigh. You place the bag of thumbs in his hands and he's visibly disgusted. "Easy, Tae Tae," you smile. "First, we need to get rid of that evidence. "

Taehyung nods.

"Then," you wrap an arm around Namjoon, placing your head against his chest. "we pretend we never came. Easy. It's only 4 members that's died."

"What do you mean?" Jimin questions.

"I mean we go home and pretend we never came. Is there any evidence that any of you responded to SVT in their meeting? If not, then we should be in the clear." you exclaim. "In my eyes, they were waiting here for you 7...then G7 came and got what they wanted in this little war they're having." you shrug. "We'll never know for sure because we weren't here."

You look up at Namjoon whose eyes are already on you. You give him a small smile before kissing his lips, having to stand on your toes to do so.

"I'm hungry." you moan into his lips. "Let's eat dinner. Together as a family."

You make your way back towards the car, 14 pairs of eyes watching you. When you close the door, Yoongi chuckles. "She's something else."

"Noona's so cool." Jungkook clenches his fist in excitement. "You should really marry her, Hyung. She's perfect for the family."

Namjoon couldn't agree more.

Jimin claps his hands loudly when the medium sized cake comes their way, sparklers buzzing loudly as the bottle girl places said cake onto your table. The table errupts in claps, laughter and cheers - all for you.

When you suggested that dinner be served as a family, you were expecting a restaurant - not in one of the clubs Bangtan owned to eat bar food in the V.I.P lounge while music danced off the walls.

While you were undercover, you took full advantage of sightseeing and experiencing a different culture.

Namjoon had taken you to countless restaurants throughout and you never complained - mainly because he wasn't much of a cook. You two often went sightseeing and that's when you realized that Namjoon was more than what you know of him - he loved nature, always suggesting the two of you go out for walks and even bike rides. It felt weird - far too intimate, yet you understood that this was what you were expected to do as his girlfriend.

The bike rides and walks didn't stop there - he also enjoyed museums. He dressed casually, outside of the fitted dark suits and actually wore comfortable clothing. He insisted that the two of you take pictures together at each destination for memories - and you agreed, enjoying your time in Korea before you had to take down Bangtan.

"Noona!" Jungkook claps his hands when the cake is set down in front of you. "This is a celebration! Drink up!"

"You better not be drinking." you called, squinting your eyes. "You're like 12."

"He's 16." Namjoon murmurs, placing a hand on your thigh. "He's done worse, trust me. A little alcohol won't hurt him."

"If Noona doesn't want me to drink then I won't." Jungkook declares and you offer a small grin. If you could pack Jungkook up and bring him home with you after your investigation you would.

"There wasn't a need for a celebration." you insist, blowing out the sparkles. You didn't hesitate to cut the cake - you were ready to eat after all.

"But there was." Jimin is first to pour a round of drinks. He raises his own glass. "You're truly the savage we never knew we needed in Bangtan."

The table agrees with Jimin's words.

"You truly know your way around a gun." Yoongi compliments - one of the few times he actually spoke to you and for a second you could feel your heart swell.

"To Y/N!" Jungkook lifts a glass filled with a dark red liquid. "It's cranberry juice, Noona." he insists with a cheeky grin.

You raise your own shot glass and lick your lips. There's a few glasses clinking and each of you took the shots. Your throat burns and you shake your head slightly then sighed.

You did come to regret drinking. It would be unorthodox not to - they were celebrating because of you. To them, you were a woman that's putting her foot into their life and seemingly doing it better than them.

However, now you feel as though the room is spinning. You and the 7 men were no longer in the V.I.P lounge but deep within the crowd - lights flashing and loud music booming through the speakers. The tables around you that held cups of half filled drinks are jumping along with the bass of the music.

You feel hot and have long removed your shirt, only in your bra now. Your mind wasn't straight in the slightest and all you did know was that you were looking for Namjoon. You're unsure where he scurried off to after Jimin dragged you to the dance floor with him - and that was nearly an hour ago. Even now, you'd lost Jimin in the sea of people and you were ready to leave.

"Noona!" you feel a hand wrap around your wrist and turn you around. "Where's your shirt? Did someone touch you?"

You laugh, slapping Jungkook's chest lightly. "You...are touching me now."

Okay, you were drunk.

"Noona..." Jungkook shakes his head. "Let's take you to, Hyung."

You allow Jungkook to drag you deeper into the dance floor. He pushed people aside without caring the consequence or how rude it was. Seconds felt like hours when you get away from the dance floor. You're taken back into the V.I.P lounge with Jungkook, the sound of the music growing quiet.

"You're so cute, Kookie." you sighed aloud. "Just like a little rabbit. Do you have a girlfriend yet?"

Jungkook's cheeks tint at your words. He closes the door behind him and glances behind you to his Hyungs. Hoseok was asleep on the loveseat, possibly just as drunk - if not more - as you. Taehyung was nodding off on the ground below Hoseok and Yoongi and Jin were talking lowly to one another.

Namjoon's ears perk when he hears your voice. "Where's Jimin?"

Jungkook shrugs his shoulders.

"And where the hell is your shirt?" Namjoon hisses.

"Don't ignore me, Kookie." you sigh.

"No, noona. I don't have a girlfriend." Jungkook chuckles lowly. "I'm not sure, hyung. I think she took it off." he answers Namjoon.

Namjoon shakes his head. He was about to stand when you turned his way. "Joonie."

"Joonie." Yoongi snorts.

Namjoon rolls his eyes.

"Y/N." Namjoon calls, motioning you over.

"Don't rush to find a girlfriend, Kookie. You have to find the right one first." you're rambling, but Jungkook nods his head at your words. "Promise?"

"She's like a mother hen to that boy." Jin laughs. "It's nice."

Yoongi nods his head in agreement. He had his own speculations about you and how a woman knew so much of their lifestyle - yet you proved to not be a threat to them. Jungkook opened up to you easily, and that boy never opened up as easily as he done with you - especially you being the opposite sex. Namjoon was smitten with you. Even if he pretended to be annoyed at your intoxicated appearance now, the faint grin on his lips is glad that you're having fun.

Namjoon opens his arms and you fall right into his lap. The room is still spinning but you could do nothing but inhale his scent. The act of being in a room with other men leaves your mind completely. All you could do was nuzzle your nose into Namjoon's neck and inhale. "You smell good." you mumble against his neck, your breath tickling his skin.

"Y/N..." Namjoon swallows a lump in his throat when he feels your lips on his skin. "...we can't-"

"You never denied me before." your tongue licks the nape of his neck and he feels himself growing hard in your embrace.

"I think it's our queue to go." Yoongi stands as does Seokjin. "Y/N. Welcome to the family."

You beam in return in having Yoongi's approval.

"Shit." Jungkook curses. Now he had to handle Jimin, Hoseok and Taehyung alone as he was the sole sober person. "Let me find Jimin-hyung then I can drive us home."

You don't acknowled Jungkook leaving. When you hear the door close, you rise from Namjoon's lap and set both legs on either side of him. You drukenly unclasp your bra and throw it aside.

"Y/N-"

"Please fuck me." you moan, pressing your lips upon his.

Namjoon himself wasn't sober now and he's fighting the urge to do what you say.

"I want you to make me cum before Kookie comes back." you beg. "Something quick."

"Quick?" Namjoon hisses, hands laying on your hips. "You want me to fuck you?"

You nod with urgency and Namjoon's fight is lost. He pushes you off of him, fingers digging into your pants and thrusting them down. He drops them at your ankles and you kick them off. Luckily Taehyung was now asleep and Hoseok was long gone.

Namjoon wraps his hand around your throat. You stand straight as he places two fingers against your clit and begins to rub. "How are you so wet already?" he groans.

"Wan' your cock." you murmur, eyes closing at the sensation. "I need it now. Please, Joonie?"

Namjoon hisses. You were always stubborn and impatient. He pushes you into his chair. He spreads your legs apart and undo's his belt.

The sight of his cock springing out has your mouth watering. Namjoon doesn't waste valuable time. He spits into his hand and rubs his cock before entering you. He visibly shudders at how amazing you felt. Your minds are beyond intoxication and forgot the main thing you two always used - a condom.

Namjoon pounds into you - his mind is asking how someone could be so wet, warm and tight. His thumb plays with your clit as he pounds inside of you, only making you wetter by the second. "You just couldn't wait, huh?"

Your hands place themselves on Namjoon's hips as he fucks you. Your body is crashing into the chair with each thrust, sending said chair back and it scrabs against the floor. You're loud, moaning his name without a care. Hoseok and Taehyung were drunk, and even if they woke up and saw - it wasn't going to stop Namjoon from fucking you like you wanted him to.

"Your cock is so..." you bite your lip when you feel Namjoon's thumb quicken its rub on your clit. "...you're fucking me so good, Joonie!"

Your breasts are bouncing aggressively as a result of his pounding. Namjoon wraps both hands on your breast and squeezes them. "We're going to get caught if you don't cum soon, baby."

"Let them watch." you managed to flip Namjoon back to sitting on the chair. You sit onto his cock, gasping at how deep it felt.

Namjoon shakes his head. You start riding at an alarming pace, your stamina is amazing. You place both hands on his shoulders as you bounces against his cock.

Your goal was to reach your high - and if Namjoon came along the way made it even better. You were wet, dripping down his thighs at each bounce. You were now screaming out with only one goal in mind.

"You're riding me so good, baby." Namjoon sends a slap upon your ass. "Turn around."

Namjoon just adores the way your ass bounces against him - it was his all time favorite sight. When he opens his eyes and has the chance to witness you sliding his cock into you, ass shining - he's near cumming. He could never last when his view was this beautiful.

You continued your pace, hands now holding onto the small table in front of you. Namjoon's hands gripped both ass cheeks, eyes never blinking at the way you bounce your ass against him. You were so wet and perfect - his cock was now a nice creamy color.

"S-Shit!" Namjoon bites down on his bottom lip as he cums right inside of you - you were riding out your own high, juices mixed with his cum dripping out of you and onto his thigh.

Yall fall against the table, not moving to take Namjoon's cock out of you - even if it was slowly - very slowly - softening.

"You two couldn't wait to do that?" Jungkook hisses as he enters the room with a drunk and giggling Jimin. He covers his eyes with his hand and releases a frustrated sigh. "Get dressed. We're leaving."

It was national news when SVT - what was remaining of them - and G7 were arrested by Government officials, mainly those coming from outside of the country. The amount of helicopters littering the skies for hours was nere wrecking - it has Bangtan sending all their men away to said ports for extra precaution.

In the end, SVT and G7 were no longer a threat to Bangtan. They were raided and now all awaiting a long trial for those who survived the war between SVT and G7. You had a front row seat to it all - it being viewed live on the news. It reminded you back in the states with the O.J Simpson case - you sometimes go back and watch the footage on youtube.

With two major families down only meant Bangtan grew. What was once belonging to the two fallen families now belonged to Bangtan - and you soon come to regret working on the inside. More men were recruited and more products were coming and going from their ports and warehouses. Security was tighter and it made it more difficult to bring outsiders in.

Namjoon kisses your forehead. "You did it baby." he murmurs against you. "It was your idea to escalate the war between SVT and G7."

You swallow. That was months ago - and now you feel sick to your stomach.

You're unsure why your feelings were changing. You needed to talk to someone - anyone that didn't belong to Bangtan. Monthly, you check in with your captain to ensure you're alive. You were the one that gave the "anonymous" tip to where SVT and G7's warehouses were located. You could have went as far as told them Bangtan's.

But you didn't - not even with the amount of evidence you had. You blame no one but yourself - blame yourself for becoming close to these men. Jungkook reminded you of a puppy who did whatever you told him to out of admiration and respect - yet the amount of weight he moves through Korea alone reminds you that even someone like him could be a criminal.

Namjoon and you often went on museum dates with one another - so much so that his home began to appear like said museums, yet you couldn't forget your reasonings for being in Korea in the first place. You were allocated for your part in taking down 2 major families - so much so that you were expecting to be awarded whenever you returned.

You were unsure if you had any desire to return back to the states. You did enjoy your life in South Korea, yet you couldn't stay here. You were afraid that your mind was altered from reality - you were growing to enjoy your stay with Bangtan. Jungkook and Jimin were like the little brothers you never had - Namjoon was the partner you always wished you could have.

But it wasn't real - not when you were undercover attempting to take Bangtan down. You hated yourself as time went on when you woke up besides Namjoon and enjoyed his warm and tight embrace. You loved the sex he gave you - filled with passion and pure lust, not like the hookups you endured during your time back home. It was geniune - real, for something that's fabricated on your side.

"We have to get ready to leave soon." Namjoon stands from his seat besides you. "And we still need to pack."

You nod your head. Jin's wedding was today being held in Japan. He'd been gone for a week now and Namjoon and you were going to be the last ones to arrive. You weren't feeling great about going outside your home while sick - but you wouldn't miss the opportunity of seeing Jin being married. It was going to be the last event you attended with Bangtan before you made your leave.

You yourself had no plans of returning to the states, that would be far too risky. With the background check Namjoon did, you could see where you'd live prior to Korea. While they were good on making sure your records were private, Namjoon still had access to basic information on you.

Your plan was set into motion. You've managed to save a good amount to be comfortable for a bit before you felt as though it was safe returning to the west. You would be considered rogue - you had no intentions of advising your captain of your plan.

Nor did you intend on going against Bangtan.

The flight to Japan was a quiet one. Namjoon assumed you were tired and allowed you to rest. The ceremony was only a few hours away yet he wanted to spend it with you. He promised to show you to one of his favorite museums and restaurants that he frequented whenever he was in the country.

As you and Namjoon looked at a piece in the museum, he speaks besides you. He tells you the history of said piece with such passion in his voice that it makes you sick. You could feel your stomach rumbling and tightening and your mouth begin to water.

You appeared less than appealing when you vomited everything into the nearest trash can - you couldn't even make it to the restrooms. A few people had stared at you but moved out of the way as you released everything from your stomach.

"Are you alright?" Namjoon pats your back. "Was it something you ate? Do you need to go back to the Hotel?"

You spit and wipe your mouth with the back of your hand. "No." you shake your head. "Continue talking about the artwork."

Namjoon stares at you. "You...vomited, Y/N. I think you're still feeling sick." he sighs, touching your head and cheeks. "You don't feel warm. Maybe we should visit a doctor?"

You shake your head and sigh deeply. "I'm fine just a stomach bug probably." you insist. "I want to continue our...date? Is this a date?"

Namjoon chuckles. "I suppose it is." he responds. "But there will be many more. We can come back here whenever you want - even after the ceremony." Namjoon is still rubbing your back comfortably. "We can go anywhere you'd like for our dates."

You could vomit again just by his words, but you manage to hold it back. Your heart is swelling and you even fight back tears. You couldn't cry and appear suspicious - he'd know something was wrong and it would do nothing but foil your plans.

"Okay." you nod. "I'm sleepy."

"We can go home and rest before the ceremony." Namjoon nods understandingly. "If you're too sick to attend, Jin-hyung won't mind."

"I want to attend!" you respond - maybe too quickly. "I'll be fine, I promise."

Namjoon had to remove himself from the rest of the family after he came back to the Hotel room to find you gone. He had - upon arrival - assumed you were in the bathroom. But once he realized that the room was eerily quiet and your bags were gone, he feels his blood run cold.

The ceremony was a success and you appeared content enough to be there. You mingled with Jungkook and Jimin - and even spoke to Yoongi's girlfriend and Jin's wife. Nothing appeared out of the ordinary with you. Yes, you were sick and had been for a little over a month now - yet you insisted that you were fine and everything will blow over.

Namjoon doesn't waste any time in calling you - but you never answer. He doesn't tell anyone what he's going through - this wasn't about him at the moment. It was Jin's wedding - he had just came from the bedding ceremony ready to come back to you.

Only, you weren't here - and he had no idea where the hell you went or even how far you've gone.

Namjoon trusted you. You never gave him a reason not to. You always answered his texts and calls at a reasonable enough time and you never told any lies that he can think of. You were an open book - assisting in whatever you could while in Bangtan that Namjoon never had a reason to check your phone.

Until now.

Yoongi had hacked into it months ago when you were new. He didn't trust you as easily as the rest had - but Namjoon trusted you and to him, that's all that matters. He had access to your phone whenever he truly needed it, but he never checked. It was privacy, of course, and he respected your privacy. You never truly gave him a reason to ever check your phone.

Until now.

And realizing that he was nothing but a pawn in your hands has him fuming.

He read through countless emails you were sending to who he assumed was your superior - all going into detail about SVT and G7. There was limited evidence against Bangtan - but by the emails he read, you were sent to Korea for Bangtan - SVT and G7 was just the cherry on top.

Namjoon's heart feels heavy and for the first time in years he cried - angry tears pooling down from the corner of his eyes. It was pathetic of him to cry over you - a woman who didn't love him. You came into his life as a woman who was too good to be true - an undercover sent from the west. The realization that you knew more than what you should've as a stripper - understanding your ways around firearms and the ability to not feel queasy while you cut the thumbs of their enemies.

Namjoon scoffs. You used him to get what you wanted - what your plans were now he was unsure about, but he did know that you hadn't spoken to your superiors in a few weeks. By the looks of your location, you were headed North - about an hour away from where he was now.

Namjoon never put his hands on a woman before. They were fragile beings - his mother raised him to respect all women, even those in the Brothels. His mother raised him to be caring towards women - to always cherish and protect them.

But now, as he learns who you truly were and just how horrid your intentions were - he wants nothing more than to take your life himself. He was fueled by nothing but emotions, his heart yearning for you while his brains wanted you dead.

Finding you wasn't going to be a difficult task - as long as he had your location, he'd always find you. Ji-Yong drove to the location without asking any questions and Namjoon had an hour and a half to think of what he was going to say to you - how he was going to finally face you. Would he break down and cry once he seen the woman he loved?

Love.

Namjoon did love you - as sad and pathetic as it was. Can you love someone after a short amount of time? For months he considered you to be the first woman (outside of his mother of course) that he'd kill for. There was no questioning what he was willing to do for you if you'd ask him to.

Namjoon's unsure how he'd react when he was face to face with you. Would you continue to lie to him or face him for who you truly were? Did you feel the way he felt - or was everything a lie? Was the sex not as passionate for you as it was for him? Did you not enjoy waking up in his arms each morning - the dates he took you on?

"Namjoon-ssi?" Ji-yong calls. "We're here."

An hour and a half had gone by already? Was he that consumed in his thoughts that the car ride appeared to be 10 minutes?

"Wait for me here." Namjoon responds. He opens the door and steps out. You're in a motel - a run down motel. You could afford better - he'd given you a great amount of money throughout your time with him. No doubt you took whatever he gave you and planned your escape.

Namjoon makes his way in, no one is seated at the front desk at his arrival, but he wouldn't have cared either way. Your room is just down the hall to the right.

Namjoon stands outside your door for 10 whole minutes. You're silent on the other side - just as silent as he was. Maybe you were asleep - he's not sure.

The door was locked, but easily unlocked with a quick swipe of his credit card - cheap motels didn't have safety precautions.

You weren't asleep - you were showering. He can hear the sounds of the running water hitting against the shower floor. He strolls silently through the small motel room, his eyes straight at you. You left the bathroom door open, the clear curtains showing the water dripping from your body.

Your back was towards him - the memories of him and you showering together while laughing and joking flashes through his mind. You didn't care for him - it was all a lie. A fabricated lie to get through him and to his family.

You met his mother - she liked you. She didn't speak directly to you, but she liked you. She told him constantly that the two of you would be married and you'd give her a grandchild. Namjoon can only laugh at just how wrong her palm readers were.

Namjoon snatches the shower curtain aside and yanks your hair. You scream, frightened at the sudden impact. He slams you against the bathroom floor and your hands barely manage to catch you.

"You lied to me!" Namjoon hisses, eyes burning with rage.

You don't respond. You're vulnerable - naked and scooting to get away from him.

"You never loved me, Y/N. You used me to get to Bangtan, right?"

How did he know this?

How did he find you?

"Answer me!" Namjoon screams, the veins in his neck pusling.

"J-Joonie-"

"Don't call me that." Namjoon releases the gun from his hip and points it at you. "You never cared for me, Y/N."

You begin to cry. You're terrified - Namjoon was showing a different side to himself. This isn't the man you've known that took you on museum dates and walks through parks - he was deranged. Screaming and waving around a gun with pure rage in his eyes.

"I-I'm sorry." was all you could manage to say.

You've scooted out of the bathroom and now leaned against the bed - still naked. Namjoon follows you closely, gun never faltering.

"You're sorry for what?" Namjoon scoffs. "For pretending to want me for who I am? Or sorry for trying to take down my family?"

You were sorry that you've hurt him this much. You hoped by the time he figured out you were gone, you'd be far away that he would never be able to find you. You didn't understand how he found out about you, but you were positive that only one of you was leaving here alive.

"I loved you, Y/N." Namjoon's voice cracked at his words. "Was the police going to be there when we got back to Korea?"

You shake your head. "I-I never told them about-"

Namjoon drops the gun. He strides to you and yanks you up. You're on the bed, his hands gripping your cheeks roughly. "Don't lie to me, Y/N."

"I'm not lying." you trembled beneath him. Namjoon never scared you until now - you're unsure what he was truly capable of. One things for certain, being completely bare before a seething man frightens you more than anyone could understand.

Namjoon watches your tears fall, and he hates himself that he feels saddened. He doesn't like to see you cry - even when his heart was shattered at the revelation.

"Was it all fake?" Namjoon murmurs after minutes of dead silence. "The smiles and laughs? Our time together...? Was it all a lie for you to take me down?"

No - but you don't respond.

Namjoon wraps both hands around your neck - he squeezes it. He himself could feel the tears forming in his own eyes as he closes in on your throat. You're kicking and thrashing beneath him, gagging for air. But he can't care, not now - not when he and his family were threatened.

You knee him in the abdomen and Namjoon falls back.

"I'm pregnant!" you screech, kicking yourself away from him. You're gasping for air now, heart pumping outside your chest. "I'm pregnant," you repeat.

Namjoon is silent but his gaze doesn't leave you.

"You're lying to me." he shakes his head slowly.

"I'm not." you bring your knees to your chest - you're afraid of what else he was going to do and you were no match for him. "I found out a month ago."

"Why didn't you tell me?" Namjoon snaps - he was going to go insane.

"I didn't want you to find out. I didn't want anyone to find out." you're whimpering now. "I was going to go rogue."

Rogue.

"You weren't returning to the west?"

You shake your head.

"Why?" Namjoon doesn't want to believe you, not after all the lies he lived with for months.

"If I returned I'd have to tell them everything that Bangtan is about. If I refused I would be interrogated through cruel punishment." you respond. "If I went rogue...there was a possibility that they'd assume I died."

Namjoon inhales deeply. "Your plan was to take my child from me." he states. "And go rogue against your superiors and live your life constantly running."

"I had no other choice."

"Your choice was to choose me!" Namjoon hisses.

"I did." you hiss back, but it comes out as a hushed whisper. "That's why I left."

Namjoon gets onto his feet and your eyes watch his every move.

"Now that I know you're having my child, Y/N. I can't allow you to leave." Namjoon speaks.

"Are you going to kill me after I give birth?" It was a serious question that sounded absurd. "Because if so, I'd rather you do it now. It's nothing but a clump of cells at the moment."

"I'm not going to kill you." Namjoon's chest tightened. He never wanted to kill you. "You'll come back with me and raise my child. You've already gone rogue - you have no where else to run."

"You don't trust me anymore. Who's to say I won't betray you again?"

"I don't know." Namjoon answers truthfully. "But I do know that you're carrying my child and I won't allow anyone to harm you. You can come back with me and we can work on whatever our relationship was prior to this," Namjoon waves his hands around. "I won't tell anyone of you being an undercover."

"How would I explain my disappearance?"

Namjoon sits at the edge of the bed. He couldn't believe how easy it was for him to want you back once more - after all you've done to betray him.

"You were forced into being an informant by the organization. You gave them SVT and G7 but they wanted more." Namjoon speaks - easily as if it was the sole truth. "You refused to give Bangtan because of our love for one another so you ran."

You listened closely.

"I found you. You're pregnant. I forgive you. They will, as well." Namjoon licks his lips. "We'll get married before the baby is born and you're to remain by my side until death do us part."

"W-What about-"

"You're going to be dead as far as the Organized Crime is concerned. I'll send a death certificate in the mail to them, along with fabricated proof that you are deceased. Dental records and finger prints."

You're astonished by the plan. It was well thought out as if Namjoon didn't come up with it easily.

"If you betray me again, Y/N, I can't guarantee you won't be harmed." Namjoon warns. "You'll be my wife and you and our child will want for nothing. But I cannot have you going against me. Not again."

You watch Namjoon through hooded eyes. You couldn't stop the tears from falling harder now and you crawled towards him. You placed your head in his lap and Namjoon's unsure how you exactly feel about his plan, but he takes it as you agreed with it. He places a hand on your bare back as you cry. "Let's go home, Y/N." he murmurs when your cries turn to soft whimpers.

@seokjinkismet @silversparkles11 @bloodline1632

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wonderfulworldofmichaelford · 10 months

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Psycho Analysis: Syndrome

(WARNING! This analysis contains SPOILERS!)

In one of the earliest episodes of Psycho Analysis, I discussed the villain of Incredibles II, Evelyn Deavor. Evelyn is just a genuinely awful twist villain for not only being completely obvious, but for having a nonsensical and impersonal motive that makes her look like a vindictive idiot. And while there is so much wrong with her, things I detailed in that review (though probably not quite as well as I would now after doing this for a few years), there is one big issue that holds her back, one that no villain in her shoes could avoid: She’s standing in the shadow of a chubby ginger nerd with a Heat Miser hairdo.

Syndrome (real name Buddy Pine) is really something else when it comes to Pixar villains. While not the first to be genuinely, irredeemably evil—Hopper was already right there—he had a lot of things that the grasshopper lacked. For one, we get to see Syndrome’s backstory and how he ended up becoming the way that he is. But more importantly, Syndrome just has a much more stylish presentation that elevates him to being what I consider Pixar’s very best villain.

Motivation/Goals: Over the course of his many, many evil monologues, Syndrome paints a pretty vivid picture of why he is the way he is. It begins with his initial monologue to Bob, where he recounts the faithful night Bob cruelly rejected him and told him to fly home. Only… there’s one teensy little detail missing from the recap. A very French detail.

Yes, Buddy’s memory proves to be extremely self-serving, as he ignores Bob was at the time dealing with the terrorist and “World’s Greatest Punny Supervillain Name” winner Bomb Voyage to paint himself as a poor, innocent victim of a dismissive and cruel super. Note also how his posture in his version has him with arms wide open as Bob cruelly looks down upon him. All of this goes to show that his big desire for revenge, a core aspect of his motivation, is just completely fabricated by his warped, evil mind. I think he really was just looking for an excuse to go on a killing spree and Bob telling him to stop endangering his own life inadvertently created the world’s first super-school shooter.

Syndrome later elaborates on his evil scheme, because simple revenge isn’t all he’s about (it’s just really nice he gets to take it, that’s all). In another monologue, he details how his murderous robot was meticulously created so that he could fabricate the perfect deadly enemy for him to beat in a staged fight, thus turning himself into a beloved superhero and winning the public’s adoration and respect. With every other hero dead by his hands, he could now soak in all the attention he wanted, and then when he’s old he’d sell off all his tech creating a world where everyone is super (meaning, in his words, that “no one will be”). Syndrome’s initial scheme is very ego-driven and narcissistic, which honestly makes it perfect for a campy supervillain like him.

Of course, he ends up having one more plan when everything else goes awry: Steal Jack-Jack and raise him as his own. This is actually a nice recycling of his cameo from a deleted opening scene for the movie, where he was actually an old enemy who tried to kidnap Violet as a child and who ends up dying in a horrible explosion for trying to fuck with Bob and Helen’s kid (seems they liked that fate for him, because they kept that too). It’s pretty demented as far as a backup plan goes, but it certainly fits him.

Performance: Beloved Kevin Smith collaborator, former Scientologist, and Dave Seville actor Jason Lee is genuinely the perfect sort of guy to voice a villain who comes off as incredibly comedic, but he also gets to show off some really good range when it’s time for Buddy to drop the laughably evil schtick and dip into being a smug, sinister supervillain. All in all, he gives us the exact sort of Silver Age supervillain hamminess to keep you engaged even as he dips deeper and deeper into horrifyingly evil actions.

Final Fate: You’d think that after nearly dying from a bomb getting caught on it as a child, Syndrome would ditch the cape. You’d think that, being a former hero worshiper who absolutely had to know that Edna Mode was the hero designer, he’d be aware of her stance on capes in costume design and would ditch the cape. But no, Syndrome apparently really wanted that classic hero look, and as all truly stylish men must do, he paid the price for looking good. The price in this case is being sucked into a jet turbine where he was shredded into a fine paste before whatever was left violently exploded in a massive fireball, but hey, that's what you get for ignoring Edna's fashion advice.

Best Scene: I think his introductory scene when he fully reveals himself to Bob is, ahem, incredible, especially on repeat viewings. From the chilling moment where he makes Bob aware of his true identity to his warped self-victimizing recap of Bob rejecting him to getting caught monologuing and then tossing Bob away by accident, it takes the nerdy little fanboy from the opening and recontextualizes him as a laughably evil mad scientist who is at the same time an extremely disturbed murderer with a horrifyingly personal vendetta.

Best Quote: Syndrome has some of the best quotes in the movie this side of Edna, and he drops a good 50% of the film’s most iconic and quotable lines. But the one bit of dialogue that sticks out to me personally is the one he drops during his big (re)entrance into the film, where he makes Bob realize who he is by simply saying, “After all… I am your biggest fan.” It’s so simple and bone-chilling and really sets the mood of the film going forward.

Final Thoughts & Score: Syndrome is just really an amalgamation of everything great you could have in a villain in this particular type of movie.

On the superhero movie side, he’s obviously taking a lot of inspiration from envy-driven tech geniuses like Lex Luthor and Dr. Doom. He has a personal grudge against the hero, and is determined to use his technological prowess to outdo them and show the world he’s better than the supermen. Of course, Syndrome takes it to an entirely unhinged level by being an unrepentant serial killer, but he’s very much still in the spirit of those aforementioned supervillains. Much like them, and as previously mentioned, his version of the events that led to his rebirth as a villain are very skewed to paint him more as a victim, with his take being how he was unfairly treated by his idols rather than as some obnoxious nuisance who could have been severely hurt or killed and whose bumbling led to a disastrous chain of events. It seems very much in the same vein as the stories where Doom blames Reed for however badly his face is scarred, or Lex blaming Superman for making him bald. Syndrome just takes these classic comic book tropes and mashes them together into one fantastic package. Now if only he somehow involved super-intelligent gorillas in his plans...

Now let’s look at the James Bond side, because everything from the score to the island lair to the evil henchmen are pure Bond villain territory. Syndrome has Bond Villain Stupidity down to an art form; even when he points out being “caught monologuing,” he still does it multiple times where he otherwise has the titular family dead to rights. He had ample opportunity to kill them several times, only to end up with egg on his face because the heroes managed to use his time gloating to form a real plan of escape. And then there’s his death which, again, is caused because he felt like gloating instead of just fucking leaving. He even has a sexy henchwoman who betrays him for the incredibly sexy Chad of a hero, though Bob doesn’t need her pussy when he has it galore at home. Syndrome wouldn’t feel too out of place going up against Jimmy B, if I’m being honest; nothing Syndrome does is any sillier than Moonraker.

I think what’s truly impressive is just how they managed to balance Syndrome being utterly vile and absolutely hilarious, which is no easy task and can lead to a villain being insufferable rather than entertaining. Syndrome has some great jokes, great body language, and the voice of Jason Lee, a voice that exudes comedic energy in every syllable; he also nonchalantly orders children to be murdered, gambles his henchwoman’s life just to call Bob’s bluff, tries to kidnap a baby, and is basically what would happen if H. H. Holmes had robots. It’s such an amazing combination of traits and it all gels together into one of the best and most fun superhero movie villains ever crafted.

Yeah, that’s right. He’s one of the best superhero movie villains. This man easily clears most of Marvel and DC’s movie villains, and deserves every single point of that 10.5/10 I’m giving him. He’s Pixar’s best villain, and exactly the sort of fun, campy, yet ultimately deadly and threatening bad guy that all superhero movies deserve. Literally no part of The Incredibles is lacking, so why should the villain be any different, right? If only the sequel could have kept up even half the energy… Maybe if they’d given Evelyn Snow Miser’s hair, she’d have been a better villain.

#Psycho Analysis #Syndrome #Jason Lee #Pixar #The Incredibles

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pyrovverse · 9 months

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KILLER KING .

CW: Gore, abuse, misogyny, general dark themes

Jeffery Woodson grew up in a small town in Arizona named Tolleson. Jeff was always a violent kid who was a bit too much like his father. He would spend his early years being brutally beat, and then going to the playground to project the abuse onto other children. This behaviour followed him into his teen years, even though his mother had left his father and married a better man named Patrick Woodson.

He first took anothers life when he was 15 years old. There was no hope for 9 year old Bradley Henderson as Jeffery held the young boy down in the rushing river. His body was shortly recovered by authorities after it had washed up on the forest edge and found by park rangers. Despite knowing Jeff was last seen with the boy, there was not enough evidence that Bradleys death was foul play and all charges were dropped. Jeffs stepbrother, Liu Woodson, witnessed the murder happen. He knew better than to open his mouth.

Hatred followed Jeff throughout his life like a disease. It stuck by his side and wrapped around his soul, plaguing him with rage. Every word that escaped his mouth was those of disdain and resentment. He lived his life full of brutality, and god forbid anybody get in his way.

Superiority was important for him. He was taught from a very early age that man shall be put on a hierarchy of weak versus strong, predator versus prey. Jeff believed he was at the top of the food chain and this proved true as he began taking the lives of street whores and inferiors in his early twenties. He knew what he was capable of, and better yet, he knew he could get away with it.

Strangely enough, or rather not all that strange at all, a majority of his victims resembled his own mother. Colleen Woodson was a desperate woman. She would often bring men into the house for sex and money while her husband was at work, letting Jeff be exposed to the lustful sin of humanity in his adolescence. This exposure developed a very unfortunate view on women, and humanity in general, for the boy. To him, people like her were nothing but disgusting inferiors who pathetically flaunted themselves as prey to the predators of the world. Predators like him.

Jeff had a very big, and very fragile, ego. He had a vile mix of primal rage and need that painted a clear picture of his life. Often finding himself in the palm of various hard drugs, Jeff was a fiend for stimulants. Cocaine and methamphetamine paved a labyrinth of mania for the man and only encouraged his brutality.

His arrogance knew no bounds, and he had a very morbid fascination with the idea of cults, death, and corruption. These fantasies were only a catalyst for the man he would become. A cruel and dangerous man who would make a name for himself being a notorious piece of shit in not only the civilized world, but the world of criminals as well. Jeffery Woodson was born scum, and he lived his life encased in amber, forever unchanged.

#pyroverse #dead dove #creepypasta #creepypasta au #creepypasta headcanons #creepypasta fanfic #creepypasta headcanon #creepypasta fandom #creepypasta jtk #jtk fanart #jtk #jeff the killer headcanons #jeff the killer fanfic #jeff the killer #jeff the killer fanart #horror #horror writing

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cer-rata · 3 months

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If I could rework Ra's al Ghul conceptually, I think I'd make him occupy a similar place as Doctor Doom, an entertaining and difficult to deal with fact of life that represents a valid if flawed worldview. This is the direction I'd shift him in:

-Incredibly intelligent and prepared as a rule

-Wildly well resourced

-Still an antagonist but with a moral framework that sometimes leans kind of blue/orange

-Has things and people that he truly cares about in ways that are deeply understandable and even admirable

-Honestly? Kind of has a point ideologically, the problem lying in how he goes about achieving it

-Big ego that he sort of deserves

-Has a master goal that makes sense for an immortal with lots of perspective, even if the drawn conclusion is wrong. This is a big one. You have to be able to believe that he truly could be so smart and experienced and decide to die on the hill he does, without just hand waving him as being crazy. The incoherent ecoterrorism based genocide plot works for hot mess era Poison Ivy, not an immortal, well read mastermind who has had thousands of years to actually come up with real solutions. (And even Ivy has moved on from that, like--)

-Maybe lean away from the Lazarus corruption angle because it's wildly inconsistent and unclear as to what effect it actually has and kind of provides an easy way out instead of forcing Batman and the reader to actually contend with his ideas.

And this is not to say he can't be an unfortunate influence in Damian and Talia's life. But I think it's all much more interesting if the Bruce/Ra's dichotomy doesn't have a wildly obvious moral high ground that positions Bruce as the white savior, swooping in with his evolved western ideals. I think Talia is more rewarding as an idealist who is truly forced to make a hard decision between two men she loves dearly, both as people and for the values they represent, and maybe ends up somewhere in between, coming up with a philosophy that works for her. For that to work their frameworks actually have to be comparable. Parents can mess you up even when they're trying their absolute best and love you dearly, he doesn't have to be cartoonishly cruel to their bodies and minds to get to the point of familial dysfunction.

I'm just going to say it, I think It's time we move on from the evil mystical Arab terrorist that doesn't value human life or women or the wishes of his own family and has no real constructive goal or politics--like I've only been implying it so far, but the inherent racism in the construction of Ra's al Ghul is A LOT to deal with and makes it very difficult to actually enjoy him as a character. Conceptually he's got too much potential to just be a caricature. We live in a world where the Joker is positioned as some kind of ideological foil to Batman, instead of a character with ACTUAL IDEALS.

And enough with the biological determinism stuff! Stop that! Stop that right now! I'm putting "nature vs nurture" on a high shelf until you can behave and not use it to be racist. It might not be coming back people! A thousand years in the dungeon! A thousand years of pain!

#ra's al ghul #dc comics #batman #bruce wayne #talia al ghul #damian wayne #tw racsim #dc editorial answer for your crimes

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vampire-exgirlfriend · 6 months

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wyllaemond smut prompt: the fox of karhold and the rogue prince (ot3 verse)

well, this absolutely ran away with me. so much for being 1k words.

fall on me like night

pairing: aemond targaryen x oc wylla karstark

rating: e

words: 4.5k

this is a future outtake from the ot3verse, no more than i was or than i am, which you can find here

Lovely did not do justice to his sister's newest lady in waiting.

No, the Fox of Karhold was not lovely.

Haunting, perhaps. Or maybe devastating was a better word.

Her face was an amalgamation of features that may have been plain on anyone else: soft cheeks, rounded jaw, rosebud mouth. But her skin was pale as the moon, her eyes as gray as a storm that built off the coast. Narrowed in distrust as they were now, that storm built until he could swear he heard lightning in the distance.

“You want to dance?” she asked. “With me?”

The pointed question poked at the tender bruise of Aemond's ego. “That's what I said, isn't it?” he snapped, all snarling teeth but little heat.

He did want to dance with her. He'd watched her flit around all evening, draped in black velvet, diamond starbursts in her hair - hair that fell loose and curling to mid thigh. ‘Was it heavy,’ he wondered, ‘all that pretty midnight hair?’

“Fine,” she answered, her voice matching his bite even through her thick northern accent, and slid her small hand into his.

His uncle had goaded him into asking her, watching him as he watched her. “Go on then,” Daemon had said. “It's depressing to witness.” He had softened, pushing lightly at Aemond's shoulder when his face tightened at the implication. “She won't deny you. The pretty little creature has been casting furtive glances all evening.” He turned away then, back to Rhaenyra and Alicent beside her, both smiling at whatever inane thing they spoke of, his mother in a tiara of silver and emeralds, his sister in their father's crown. Rhaenyra turned toward him, as if she felt his stare, and gave him an encouraging smile, giving away that they had been talking about him.

Wylla Karstark’s hand was cool in his, as if the northern winds coursed through her veins instead of blood. It eased the heat that licked at his skin, ever present, perhaps more so since he had claimed his dragon.

“You're a better dancer than your brother,” the fox said primly, her eye on some faraway point over his shoulder as he guided her in the steps of the dance. His hands found her waist, pressing tighter than was altogether appropriate. But the way she inhaled sharply at his touch was worth the impropriety.

Aemond looked to where Aegon danced with his wife, Abrogail Strong. The red head was dainty, graceful even, and Aegon could not tear his eyes from her.

He cleared his throat. “Thank you.”

“I think this is the nicest you've been to me since I've arrived.” There was distrust in her voice.

Aemond bristled. “You say that as if I've been cruel.”

She laughed and the sound pulled at something low in his gut. It was a large laugh, boisterous, too big for her small frame. He wondered where she hid it. “Not cruel. Only disdainful. Distant.”

“You are my sister's lady,” was all he said in answer.

Helaena had taken to Wylla immediately upon her arrival from the frozen wastes she called home, wrapping her in dragon’s claws and claiming she would like to keep her. It made him happy to see she had finally found another friend. And Wylla did make her smile, letting his sister set her beetles to crawl over her skirts or placing moths in her hair like jewels.

He glanced down and found her staring up at him, head cocked, and suddenly he felt like prey, stalked through the Kingswood. But Aemond was not prey.

He was a dragon.

Leaning forward, he placed his cheek to her temple, feeling the little shiver that ran through her. “You have lovely eyes,” he murmured, and prayed the line would not leave him embarrassed.

Wylla cleared her throat. “Thank you, my prince.” He spun her then, the long bell sleeves of her gown fluttering around them. “Yours is lovely as well.”

He believed she meant it and smiled down at her, noticing for the first time a small scar that cut through her top lip.

The song ended and his fox was pulled away, though she kept her gaze on him until the crowd swallowed her up.

—

A week had passed since the queen's birthday feast and Rhaenyra had been in a happy mood. Her second-born, Prince Lucerys, had arrived back in King's Landing after a time spent warding with their aunt, Princess Rhaenys, and the Sea Snake. He was tan skinned from all the time spent aboard a ship, the tawny making his hair shine more gold than silver, all smiles and tales of life at sea.

Devoid of her attention, and subsequently his mother and uncle's, Aemond wandered until he found himself in his favorite spot in the gardens. A statue of Visenya the Conqueror rose up from a stone dais, her hand on the hilt of Dark Sister, her eyes cast to the distance. A fountain bubbled around her feet, and blooms he knew to be poisonous crawled up her legs like armor, blood red and a purple so dark and deep as to be nearly black.

There was a rustle of fabric from behind the statue and he leaned over to find Wylla Karstark looking over him, gray eyes wide.

Her raven hair gleamed in the torchlight, lit by servants as the sun set. Though they were alone now.

The thought curled deliciously in his gut.

“You could ask for her hand,” Daemon had said after the feast. “You know you want her. And her brute of a father would never turn you down.”

“Apologies, my prince,” she said, rising to her feet, blue skirts the color of the night sky tumbling around her legs. It was the same shade of blue as the sapphire he wore in place of his eye, lost six years ago in a sparring accident when he and Lucerys had been foolish enough to attempt live steel, both boys feeling as if they had something to prove.

“Aemond,” he choked out after a long moment.

“Excuse me?”

“My name.”

She raised a thin brow, finely arched. “Yes, I know your name.”

“You may call me Aemond.” He felt the blood creep into his cheeks.

“Och, is that right?” She was teasing him and he wasn't sure if he loved or hated it. “Well then, Aemond,” she purred, “I must be on my way.”

She passed, and as if his hand had a mind of its own, he reached for her, his fingers closing around her wrist. “Must you?” he asked.

The fox did not pull away. Instead she looked up at him from beneath sooty lashes, so long they graced the round of her cheek when she blinked away her surprise.

“Stay,” he commanded, though his voice nearly trembled with the word.

“I -.”

Aemond kissed her then to silence her. It was clumsy, foolish, but she didn't not push him away. Her fingers curled in the fabric of his doublet as if to hold him closer and his own hands found her waist to draw her against him. He had the feeling neither of them knew what they were doing, not truly. At least he did not, having only shared a few kisses with Helaena when they had snuck too much wine two years ago. But Helaena was to wed their nephew now, and Jacaerys made her happy.

He could not let her take Wylla to Dragonstone, not when he had only just found her.

They broke apart for a gasping breath and a flush crept over Wylla's snowfall skin.

“Do you often kiss women in secret gardens?” she asked, taking the measure of him.

He shook his head, though he could not help throwing back his own barb. “Do you often allow strange men to kiss you in secret gardens?”

“Not until tonight.”

He hummed and kissed her again, one hand finding its way to tangle in the hair at the back of her neck. A weak moan fought its way from between her lips, now swollen and pouting, and the sound of it nearly tore him apart.

Aemond backed her up in shuffling steps until they came to rest against the stone wall, the ivy framing her body and for a moment he wished it would entangle them, keep them hidden in this moment forever.

“Do you still find me disdainful?” His voice was a low rasp, stuck somewhere in his throat. He kissed across her jaw, down the column of her neck, his lips seeking purchase against any inch of bare flesh as his hand rose to brush a thumb over the little scar that marred her top lip. Visions of sinking his teeth into her danced across his mind and he wondered if she would enjoy the sting of pain as he did, a pleasure he had discovered when handling himself too roughly one evening, visions of her in that black dress painted behind his eyelids.

The girl blinked up at him, as if his words had only barely registered, and he felt a warm bloom of pride beneath his ribs. “Not terribly so,” she admitted, though her face was a strange mix of irritation and arousal, her eyes falling back to his mouth. He kissed her again, licking at her mouth, hoping for a taste. But her hands found his chest and she pushed gently. “I meant it when I said I must leave. The princess will require her bath soon and I must -.”

“And what of your prince?” He was pouting now, a familiar stinging petulance rising up in him. Aemond gathered her face in his hands, his thumbs brushing over her jaw, tightening a fraction too much. But she did not wince; she simply glared and pushed harder, ducking to slip beneath his arm.

“I’m sure the prince can find a multitude of ways to entertain himself in my absence.” The words were snappish, a cold wind, and he saw how she had earned her nickname, with her narrowed eyes and the feral cut of her mouth.

She gave him no time to reply, stomping through the arch and back toward the keep.

—

“You are pouting.” The soft voice curled around the shelf that he currently hid behind.

“I am not pouting.”

An indelicate snort of laughter, followed by the rustling of fabric, and suddenly his eldest sister sat beside him.

Rhaenyra did not wear her crown today. Instead her starlight hair was twisted into a series of braids that gathered at the back of her head before falling down her back in gentle waves. Her violet eyes, nearly the same shade of his, hid a glimmer of mischief, as if being queen held not a candle to the mental torture of her younger brother.

“Fearsome little Aemond, pouting over a girl.”

He glared. “And to think, the queen of the Seven Kingdoms sits on the floor in a library to tease her brother. Not particularly regal of you.”

“It’s a fair use of my personal time.” She nudged her shoulder against his, but he did not look at her, his eye still focused on the tome in his hands - the tome he had reread the same section of over and over. “The northern girl?” She asked.

Was he so hopelessly transparent? Had he become so pathetic?

“Not entirely pathetic, no.”

Aemond groaned when he realized he’d spoken the words aloud, dropping his head back against the shelf, the dull thud of it making his sister laugh.

“Aemond -.”

“Please don’t.”

She laid a hand on his knee. “I may have overstated your patheticness for my own amusement. But truly, you’re doing nothing wrong. Not nearly as ridiculous as your brother for the Strong girl or even Jace for Helaena. Of all my siblings, of all my children, you are the most stoic. But you aren’t doing anything wrong or shameful or embarrassing.”

“I hate this feeling. I hate the way it eats at me, the way it feels lodged in my chest.” He resented it, wanted to punish the girl for the sin of making him want her. At the same time though, he longed to see her smile directed at him, even if it was accompanied by her nearly constant ire.

Her answering smile was soft and for the first time in a long time, Aemond remembered how young she truly was, less than two decades his senior. Rhaenyra shifted, the black silk of her gown shimmering in the light that came in through the high windows. “If you’re lucky, that feeling never fades.” She waved her hand. “Take the girl flying.”

He made a face. “I heard her tell Helaena she does not care for the dragons.”

“To be fair, the largest animal she’s seen, other than a horse, is those wolves of the north. Dragons are fearsome, they are magic made flesh. You, my favorite brother, are a dragon.”

Aemond rolled his eye. “Aegon is your favorite.”

“No, he is simply the most like me. Which probably makes him your mother’s favorite.”

“Hateful,” he teased, the knot of worry in his chest loosening slightly. “Daemon says I should simply ask her father for her hand.”

“Please only listen to your uncle in small increments,” she sighed, dropping her own head back beside his. “Just…just go to her. Learn her. Know her. See what you find.”

The idea of knowing Wylla, of learning her, made some dark thing, hot and a little wild, curl up in his belly - a feeling that was altogether uncomfortable as he sat beside his sister, his queen, on the library floor. Aemond shifted and then stood, reaching down for Rhaenyra, who took his hand and rose to her feet. She did not reach for him, did not comfort him in the way she might Aegon, who basked under physical contact like a satisfied cat. Instead she looked at him, truly looked, and the corners of her mouth curled into a smile. “You are a dragon,” was all she said before turning and walking out of the room, leaving him alone with his desires.

—

The low torchlight was Aemond’s only companion as he traversed the tunnels, counting his steps and praying that he wasn’t about to open the wrong door. From Helaena’s rooms, Wylla’s should only be a handful of paces away, close enough that Helaena could call on her at any time should she need her.

He stood before the seam that should open into her room, directed beside the fireplace, if his rememberings were correct, and wondered if he was altogether insane for even considering this. Rhaenyra had told him to dismiss her husband’s advice, but he could think of nothing else since Daemon’s sly reminder that the little fox was prime for the taking in her own rooms, with no one around to distract them. “How could she deny you?” he’d asked. “You are far too like me to say no to.”

Aemond was not sure that was the compliment his uncle believed it to be, yet here he stood, torch in hand, his fingertips pressed to the rough stone as he imagined the girl lounging across her bed. ‘Did she sleep beneath northern furs?’ he wondered. ‘Would she taste like wine she had snuck before bed?’

Forgetting his misgivings and focusing on that dangerous tendril that snaked through him, Aemond pushed open the door, setting the torch in the iron holder beside it. He blinked when he entered the room.

Candles burned low on nearly every surface and the air smelled of cinnamon, thick and spicy, but not cloying. The bed was empty, as was the chaise at the end of it.

Water splashed to his left and his head snapped in that direction, eye widening at the sight of her in the tub.

Wylla’s gray eyes were wide, a small paring knife in her hand, clutched between her slender fingers. He saw the tray of fruit on the small table beside the metal tub.

“What in the hells are you doing?” she hissed.

He noticed that she did not shout, did not raise her voice to alert the guards, and a new sort of confidence built in him.

Aemond stalked closer to the tub, his eye darting between her face and the knife she clutched. Lower still, he found the soft round of her breasts only just covered by the still steaming water. Her hair was plaited and piled loosely at the back of her head to keep from getting wet, tendrils curling around her jaw and he wanted to lick the water droplets that raced down her neck.

“Put down the knife,” he murmured, his eye darkening at the idea of just what she might do to him with it. It was not an altogether unpleasant imagining.

But Wylla did not put down the knife. Instead, she stood, baring herself to him, teeth showing in a snarl that went straight to his cock. Her breasts were small, no more than a handful each, and her waist tapered before blooming into hips that were wider than he had expected. He could imagine exactly how her plump rear would feel in his hands. “Why exactly would I do that?” she asked. “You sneak into my room from some hole in the wall and expect what? A warm welcome?”

His gaze traveled over her body, cataloging each freckle and blemish that marked her pale skin. Surrounded by steam and wet as she was, he wondered if this is what those old gods of hers looked like: silent, though wild, beautiful and yet terrifying.

He wanted to taste her, to sink his teeth into her soft flesh, and found that he was at a loss for words. Stepping closer, never taking his eyes from her, he approached the tub. The heat was delicious as it rolled off of her, and he desired nothing more than to strip from his doublet and press close against her, close enough to imprint himself upon her. Gently, more gently than he realized he could, he reached forward, his fingers twining around her wrist. When she did not release the blade, he squeezed, reveling in the way her delicate bones felt against his palm.

The knife clattered to the ground and Wylla opened her mouth, likely to attack him with her teeth, but Aemond pulled her forward with a sharp jerk and pressed his lips to hers. Before she could shove at him, fight him off, he pulled her from the tub, pressing her wet body to his, molding her to him.

She surprised him then, wrapping her arms around his neck and kissing him deeply, and with a little jump, her legs wrapped around his waist. Aemond moaned and she licked into his mouth, her tongue curling behind his teeth, her fingers gripping hard at his unbound hair.

In a clumsy rush, he walked them to the bed, doing his best to avoid tripping over unfamiliar furniture. He did not dump her against the furs, instead curling his body around hers, his hands finding her waist, her ribs, her breasts. She made eager little noises beneath him, finding the ties at the front of his doublet and ripping at them impatiently. He shed the damned thing and could not help but moan when she found his bare skin.

“My father will demand your head for this,” she murmured as he licked a trail over the column of her throat.

“He can’t.” His reply was breathless as he shifted, kissing the top of her breast before wrapping his lips around her peaked nipple. Wylla whined at that, arching her back.

“No?” It was a silly pointless question.

Aemond clutched at her other breast, molding it against his palm, delighted at the way his hand engulfed her flesh. “Not if you are my wife.” He abandoned his groping to undo the ties at his waist, lowering his breeches and small clothes until finally his cock was free, so hard it bobbed, throbbing against her thigh.

Wylla stilled beneath him. “Are you…asking me to marry you?”

The insanity of the moment, of the words he’d actually uttered, slammed into him. But such had been his uncle's advice and he owned the ludicrousness of it. “I don’t believe I asked.”

“You are telling me to marry you?”

‘Please, please, please,’ his heart thrummed, though his pride would not allow the begging question to cross his lips.

He kissed her soundly and pulled her bottom lip between his teeth, biting down sharply, as if asserting his desired ownership. “Yes,” he mumbled against her wet flesh.

A fearful look chased away the ire and desire he had seen just a second ago. “I cannot. I…I am promised to Lord Bolton’s son.” She gently gathered his hair in her hand, tugging sweetly at the ends of it in a gesture that had him wanting to rub against her like a cat.

Aemond expected rage. He expected that violent creature that lived in him to raise up, to swallow him and her both. He realized that she had allowed things to go as far as they had in a bid at claiming a bit of independence, a fantasy to cling to when she was back in the cold north, wife to a savage that burnished a flayed man on his banners. But it did not. Instead, something more solid, more demanding took its place. “No,” he said simply.

“No?”

“You are mine.”

He slid a hand between them then and found the place she wanted him most, and thanked the gods that his brother had beaten him over the head with bawdy retellings of his own escapades with his wife.

Wylla’s head fell back as he teased at her entrance, a finger dipping in only to retreat a second later. He found that little shock of nerves, working at it gently until she moaned for him, the sound surprisingly husky. She bucked against his hand and he surmised that she wanted more. So he finally took mercy and pierced her with a single finger.

There was something shocking about the tightness of her, and it kept him locked in his body, unable to tear his eyes from her as she writhed. Another finger added, and this time he curled them forward, tearing a groan from her chest. Fumbling hands found his cock and she stroked at him, no real finesse to her touch, but he was so desperate for her that it mattered not at all. All he longed for was to help her find his end, for he knew he would not last once he was inside of her.

His mouth found her breast again and she was so responsive to his touch, wanton even, when he sank his teeth into her, that it spurred him on. Aemond ground the heel of his hand against that spot that made her cry out, two fingers pumping in and out of her at a speed he slowly increased. The flutters around his hand were surprising, grasping at him as if to keep him there, and Wylla lifted her hips, riding him as best she could until she fell apart, panting his name, pulling him up and demanding a kiss as she whimpered.

She glowed beneath him and he could swear that her skin shined with the light of the moon. Had she hidden it beneath her skin, like some myth of old?

The question died in his mind as he pressed inside of her, and the world narrowed to only the places where she touched him. She was hot, scaldingly so, and so tight that he could not stop his eye from rolling back. A pained whimper caught his attention and when he looked down at her, her face was pinched in discomfort. He kissed the line between her brows, stilling until she relaxed. He wanted desperately to be gentle for her, but now that he was inside of her, his ability to cling to that softness was rapidly disappearing.

“I’ll be yours,” she whispered, her fingertips finding the scar that split his face, and he wondered if she felt beautiful in the reflection she saw shining back at her in his sapphire eye.

Those three words rended away his self control and he could not help but pull back, thrusting forward, and he moaned at the delicious friction. Wylla clung to him, her nails raking over his back, and he was surprised at how she matched each roll of his hips, as if even an inch between their bodies was too much.

It was only moments, but time stretched out strange and foreign before him as he fucked her, his face buried in her neck, his teeth catching purchase against her throat.

“Please, please, please.”

It was Wylla murmuring the words and they echoed in his mind, bouncing between the walls of his skull. He knew his end was near, that hot sensation gathering at the base of his spine. Aemond moved to pull back, to spill across her belly, not wanting to assume or risk getting a child on her before he had a chance to plead his case for her hand. But something instinctual in Wylla rose up, and she hooked her leg over his hip, holding him inside of her until he could hold back no longer and came with a groan of her name.

For a long moment, they simply lay there, him sprawled over her, his face against her chest. Wylla’s fingers found his hair, and she combed at the snarls she had tangled therein, the gesture shockingly comfortable for all of its intimacy.

“I warn you, my father is not the most agreeable man.” There was something hard in her voice, something full of resentment.

He looked up at her, resting his chin against his hand where it lay on her belly. “Good then, that I boast the largest and most ancient dragon in the realm.”

Wylla rolled her eyes. “Good then, that you also boast the largest ego in the realm.”

He crawled up her body and kissed her, just a soft press of his lips to hers. “Have I not earned it?”

The girl flushed crimson, a delicious sight. “I suppose,” was all she said, but he took it as confirmation and gathered her into his arms, dropping back against the pillows. A minute twisted in a few and he felt his eyes grow heavy, the fox a warm weight against his chest. Her fingers traced idle patterns over the skin of his stomach as she settled.

There was a sigh, a small shift that pressed her closer.

“Fine,” she huffed, pressing her face against him. “I’ll marry you.

#aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x oc #house of the dragon #house of the dragon fic #aemond x wylla #aemond targaryen x original character #fyeahhotdocs #fyeahgotocs

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