in preparation for 13 nights of kinktober, i’m launching a “falling in love” series of one shots with various characters about love and romcom and feel good vibes, without smut.
i know i know, but i wanted to try wholesome before we delve into some filthy smut. this is an ongoing series, whenever inspiration strikes me. also to remind myself that not everything needs to be fleshed out and a novel.
that being said, right now they’re one shots, but who knows what it’ll turn into! cause i never can help myself
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for your eyes only
—> bruce wayne x reader; right person, wrong time romance; you and batman crossed paths more than a decade ago, and thanks to the schemes of one Kryptonian, you’re now meeting again
new faces, old places
—> conner kent x reader; small town romance; you come back to smallville for some family time, but instead meet a new neighbor, conner kent and end up babysitting at Smallville’s Fall Festival
when the shop bell rings
—> jason todd; cozy bookstore romance; working at a bookstore means routine. set hours and knowing regulars. that is, until jason todd starts coming to your store, but there’s nothing normal about him
it’s what all the heroes do
—> superman x reader; single parent romance; you just wanted a letter back telling your son to listen to what you say. you don’t expect metropolis’ favorite hero to personally show up to your son’s school
i’ll be your piece
—> bruce wayne x reader, academia billionaire romance; it’s your job to convince bruce wayne that the art department deserves his donation. you didn’t expect for bruce to be, well, bruce
in my head, i do everything right
—> dick grayson x reader, second chance romance; you left the titans and your ex, dick grayson, years ago. you never could say no to helping him when he needs it
and more? lemme know in the comments if you wanna be on the taglist for this series! posting at least one tomorrow! okay love ya 💋
You sabotage his ride. He blows up your hideout. You steal his kill. He swaps your gun for a water pistol. Somewhere between the flash drives, rooftop tackles, and snarky banter, things get...complicated.
It started with sabotage. It might end in something else entirely.
💌 Accepting requests for more Resident Evil, Genshin Impact, TVD, and TO fics!
You should have known the blonde bastard would show up. The intel was suspiciously clean, the mission suspiciously perfect—a setup if you'd ever seen one. The moment you stepped into the Umbrella lab, boots crunching on broken glass and papers fluttering like dying moths, the familiar echo of his polished, insufferably confident voice called out, and you sighed as if your patience had finally expired.
"You're early," Wesker drawled, stepping from the shadows like a one-man stage play. Sunglasses indoors? Of course. It wouldn’t be him without the overdramatic flair.
You didn’t flinch. Just rolled your eyes and cocked your gun with deliberate slowness. "You're late."
He smirked, ever the arrogant bastard. "Didn’t realize you were taking attendance now. How cute."
This was the third time in six weeks your missions had inconveniently—and infuriatingly—overlapped. The first time, you'd chalked it up to coincidence. The second time, you started suspecting sabotage. By the third? Oh, you knew it was personal.
You both had turned messing with each other into a tactical sport. Sabotaged intel drops. Replaced ammo with blanks. Sent each other into booby-trapped zones. Rerouted extraction teams and locked down exits. It was childish. It was maddening. And it was, oddly enough, starting to feel like foreplay.
Tonight was no different. As you reached for the final flash drive containing highly classified B.O.W. research, Wesker casually beat you to it, his long fingers snatching it with the grace of someone who had done this a thousand times. He twirled it between his gloved fingers like it was a toy, his eyes never leaving yours, daring you to make a move.
"Looking for this?"
You snatched it from him, fast and sharp like a snake strike. "Don't you have some viral apocalypse to plan, or are you just here to be the world's most annoying stalker?"
"Maybe both. Maybe I just missed our banter."
You froze for a half-second. He was standing closer than before. You could smell the crisp scent of leather, gun oil, and something darker underneath. Something magnetic. Too close. But you didn’t move. Neither did he. And in that moment, neither of you reached for your guns.
A week later, you returned the favor.
He was expecting a sleek Umbrella prototype jet. What he got instead was a rusting two-seater crop duster with chipped paint and a pilot who kept asking, "Are you that sunglasses guy from the news?"
Wesker sent you a selfie from inside the plane, sunglasses still on, jaw clenched, looking absolutely murderous. You printed it out, framed it, and stuck it on your fridge with a magnet shaped like a grenade—a trophy of your petty war. He retaliated by triggering a controlled explosion at your safehouse. (Okay, technically it was already compromised and you were relocating anyway—but still rude.)
Despite the pettiness, or perhaps because of it, the game continued. Neither of you backed down. If anything, the stakes got higher. The traps more creative. The fights more personal. You once broke into his facility just to change all his security passwords to Taylor Swift lyrics. He replaced your favorite sidearm with a neon pink water pistol. That one almost made you laugh.
One particularly stormy night, with the air thick with the smell of burning fuel and coppery blood, you cornered him on a rain-slick rooftop. He had been trying to steal your target—again. You tackled him, both of you crashing down hard on the soaked cement. You expected to roll off, gun drawn. But instead, you both just... stayed there.
His body was warm against yours. Breathing heavy. The storm raged on around you, but everything felt quiet. The world shrunk to two silhouettes locked in a staring contest, a breath apart.
"You gonna move?" you asked, your voice husky.
He didn’t. Instead, Wesker reached up and brushed a wet strand of hair from your cheek. His gloved hand lingered just a beat too long.
"You're infuriating," he muttered, almost like a confession.
Your heart thudded. Then you grinned, teeth glinting.
"So are you."
The kiss came like the storm. Sudden. Relentless. Honest. You kissed him hard. And he kissed you back like a man who had waited too long to admit something dangerous. Sure, you were enemies. Absolutely, you were adversaries. But somewhere between the sabotaged choppers and rooftop brawls, something else had formed. And damn it, you were so into it.
