#and both have an angry twitch apparently! | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

teamatsumu · 6 months

Text

kinktober 2023 -> day 27

hate sex - kuroo tetsuro x reader

word count: 2100

warnings: swearing, nsfw, reader is yaku’s sister, both of them are kinda assholes but not really lol

kinktober masterlist

Kuroo Tetsuro was a very talented individual. Because no one had the capacity to piss you off quite like he did.

You should’ve known the minute you walked into your biochem class that he would become the bane of your existence. You wished you had gotten some sort of warning when you chose your major. A sign. A whisper from the gods. Anything at all to stop you in your tracks. But no, you were here now, and you were stuck seeing him in class every time.

If only that was where it stopped. But then you discovered that he was on the college volleyball team with your brother Morisuke and apparently, they were thick as thieves. The nightmare just kept getting worse.

It’s not even that he was a jerk to you or he bullied you. You just thought he was too cocky and loud and the smirk he supported was stupid. Unfortunately, the moment he found out that you didn't like him, he made it his mission to annoy the crap out of you any chance he got.

He would make jokes about your height, or how uptight you were. He would call you dumb under his breath if you got something wrong in class, or would snicker when the teacher corrected you. He had a taunting lilt to his voice when he talked to you, like his mere words were making fun of you. It was embarrassing, and it stung a bit, but mostly it served to make you angry. Morisuke would always tell you to let it go. That Kuroo was a provocative and inflammatory person by nature, but at this point even his voice annoyed you.

“What kind of pleasure does this bring you?” You gritted out, refusing to look up at his stupid grin.

“It tingles me just right, sweets.” He replied.

“Ugh.” You made a disgusted face, giving him a look that hopefully communicated that.

“You are gross.” You responded, turning back to your book. “Now can you please leave? I have a quiz I need to study for.”

Kuroo hummed, as if contemplating your request. He leaned back in his chair, balancing it precariously on its two back legs. They squeaked in the silence of the library, making your cheek twitch.

“Nope.” He popped the ‘p’, running a hand through his already messy hair. “I’m waiting for Yaku, remember?”

“And he told you to meet him here?” You didn’t look up at him.

“No, I told him to meet me here.”

You glared at him. “To purposely annoy me? Is that it? Why can’t you just stay away from me?”

He scoffed. “Don’t flatter yourself, sweets.”

You turn to him completely this time. “Then what is it, Kuroo? Why the hell are you obsessed with me? How pathetic are you?”

Kuroo stared at you incredulously. “Obsessed with you?”

He leaned forward until his face was inches from yours, eyes narrowed in anger. You nearly reeled back but held yourself in place.

“You’ve got some nerve. Thinking everything is about you. You think I give a single fuck about you? You’re just Yaku’s whiny little sister who thinks the world revolves around her. You’re not worth my time, or anyone else’s. Get your head out of the clouds or you’re going to end up taking a fall you won’t survive.”

You stared at him in shock, watching him gather his bag and water bottle before he stood up and hastily left. You stared at his retreating back, and felt anger burn through you as his words registered in your head.

You ignored the hot tears that stung your eyes.

…………………

The knock on your dorm room door startled you, and you stared at it warily. You contemplated whether you should open it or not. Maybe you could stay quiet and pretend no one was home. You weren't really in any mood to talk to people.

“I know you’re in there. The light is on.”

You nearly groaned, eyes squeezing shut. Anger boiled up in you again, and in a moment of impulse, you rushed to the door, opening it with more force than necessary.

“You've got some nerve.” Your voice shook in anger when you met his golden eyes. “Coming here after the shit you said to me today.”

Kuroo sighed, shoulders slumping. “I came to apologize for that.”

You laughed in disbelief. “What part, Kuroo? Me being whiny or me being pathetic?”

He scowled. “I didn't call you pathetic.”

“You’re getting hung up on the semantics now?!” You shrieked, stepping back to slam the door shut. Kuroo shot his foot out, blocking you from doing so.

“Excuse me? I’m not going to apologize for something I didn't even say!” He stepped inside the room, shutting it behind him so your voices didn't carry into the halls. “In fact, I specifically remember you were the one who called me pathetic. Which you still haven’t apologised for, by the way.”

“Oh my god, I hate you!” You screamed, feeling your face get hot because of how angry you were.

“Trust me, the feeling is mutual!” Kuroo screamed back, stepping forward until he was right in your face. You stiffened at how he was towering over you, his chest heaving and breaths coming heavy and quick. His teeth were clenched, making his jaw tick. Your eyes tracked the movement. You watched a small droplet of sweat run down the side of his face.

You stepped forward until your lips met his.

Kuroo jerked back, looking at you with wide eyes, mouth dropped open in shock. You stared at each other for a few moments, completely silent. Then, the dam broke.

Kuroo grabbed the sides of your face, sealing your lips together in a searing kiss. You moaned into his mouth, giving him the opening to slide his tongue over yours. You backed up until your legs hit your bed, falling back and Kuroo following you down, not breaking the kiss. Your limbs tangled together in a flurry, attempting to rip each other’s clothes off as quickly as you could.

“Can you hurry?” You broke the kiss, glaring at him as you tugged his shirt off.

“Can you shut the fuck up?” He bit back, pulling your sweatpants off your legs.

His lips met yours in the next moment, effectively silencing you except the little moans leaving your lips. His bare body felt heavenly against yours, and for the first time you thanked the lords that he was an athlete.

He broke the kiss again, making his way down your body with his lips. He bit at your right breast, making your breath stutter.

“Of course you would like that.” He chuckled.

“Shut the fuck up, Kuroo. Don’t ruin this-” You dissolved into a moan when he licked over your nipple, biting at it slightly before sucking. You sighed at the feeling.

His hand groped at your other breast, hips grinding down. His crotch pressed between your legs, and the pressure made you whine.

“Hurry up.” You pushed at his boxers, trying to tug them down.

“Say please~” Kuroo smirked up at you. You nearly slapped him.

“Over my dead body.”

Kuroo sighed and lifted himself off your body. He slid off you slightly, making to stand up. “Well, in that case-”

“No!” You sat up, biting your lip, staring at him. You groaned. “God, I hate you.”

Kuroo chuckled. You gasped when his fingers brushed over your clothed core, before hooking a finger into your panties and pulling them off you. His fingertips dipped into your slit. Your breath stuttered.

“Kuroo.” You stared at him, his eyes dark and pupils dilated. His lips parted, tongue peaking out just a little to run over them. His fingers continued their feather-light touch.

“Please,” you gave in.

“Please what, baby?” You whined at the nickname, feeling your core pulse. God, his voice was so husky. You stared at his lips, eyes wandering to his shoulders, his pecs, his abs, to the bulge in his underwear that was hinting at how big he probably was.

“Touch me, Tetsuro.” You whispered. “Please. Touch me, fuck me. You want me to shut the fuck up? Make it happen, then.”

He was on you the next moment, teeth digging into your skin and fingers burying themselves deep in your pussy. You yelped and moaned, spreading your legs more so he could hit deeper. His fingers were so long and delicious, reaching your spot and rubbing against it just right. Within seconds, he had you seeing stars.

“You’re such a brat.” Kuroo bit out, fingers picking up speed instantly. You could barely breathe. Your body jolted under his movements. He was being so rough. “A spoiled little princess. Greedy girl. You’re even letting me fuck you just so you can get off.”

You cried at Kuroo’s words. Fuck. Why was this turning you on so much? You clenched around his fingers, and were met with the sight of his infamous smirk, except this time, it was so much hotter than any time you had seen it before. Kuroo looked like he was enjoying the crap out of this.

“Oh, you love this, don’t you?” He goaded you, curling his fingers until your back was arching off the bed. “Such a slut. What, you got a humiliation kink or something?”

“I’m gonna cum.” You choked out, tears swimming in your vision as your toes curled.

You should've known. This was Kuroo Tetsuro you were with. There’s no way he would let you have anything good. You nearly wailed when he pulled his fingers out, soaking wet with your juices.

“Kuroo!” You cried, tears spilling down your cheeks. “Don’t- why?!”

You didn’t even care that he was witnessing you break down over this. You were just about to have what could have been the most intense orgasm of your life and he denied you it.

“You fucking asshole-”

He shushed you, leaning over and shifting slightly. Something hard prodded at your entrance, before sinking into you in one fluid motion. Your mouth dropped open at the feeling, jaw going slack. He was big, long and oh so hard, and he grazed all the right spots as he slid into you.

Kuroo wiped the tears that soaked your cheeks, brushing his nose against yours in a manner that was almost affectionate. You stared up at him, still dizzy from your almost orgasm a few moments ago. His eyes held a glint that told you tonight was going to be brutal in the best way possible.

And you were right. Kuroo fucked you through three orgasms before he even slowed his pace. You were left a blabbering, bumbling mess by the time his hips stuttered and he emptied himself inside you, warm cum washing over your walls, pushing you through one more orgasm as his unrelenting fingers rubbed at your abused, swollen clit. He didn’t care when you whined at him to stop. He was merciless throughout. It was rough and hot and it made you see stars.

You didn’t even register when his body left yours, or when he came back and ran a washcloth over the mess between your legs. You turned on your side, back sore from all the arching. You were still out of breath as he tugged on his clothes, watching him fix his hair. Well, as fixed as his messy hair could get. Aside from the sweat on his face and his slightly heavy breathing, he seemed unfazed. You would think he was out for a run, not rearranging your guts.

You didn’t realize he was staring at you until a few moments later, when he leaned over to brush your hair off your face. His signature smirk spread over his lips.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart. You’re the best sex I’ve ever had too.”

You scowled as he straightened up, making his way to the door. “What the hell do you mean ‘too’?

He didn’t answer, humming happily to himself as he tugged his shoes on.

“You aren’t the best sex I’ve ever had.” You sat up, feeling your face turn red. He gave you a look that was so smug it made you stiffen in embarrassment. You knew he didn’t believe a word you just said. You also knew that Kuroo’s already humongous ego was about to shoot through the fucking roof.

“You’re not.” You mumbled. Kuroo pulled the door open, still supporting the insufferable smirk on his face, giving you a teasing wink.

“You’re not, Kuroo!” You called behind him as the door clicked shut. Sighing, you flopped back onto the bed, staring at the ceiling and ruminating on everything that had just happened.

Fuck.

Taglist:

@bxbyyyjocelyn @thisbicc @lazuliquartz @dreamayy @kuroosluthoe @true-form-hoe @akumakitsune21 @cham0mil3-and-h0n3y @samisfunky @universal-s1ut @msbyomimi @dohwaesu @leothesquishy @n0tmykays @tsukiran @reyofsunshinelol @bleach-your-panties @galaneiaeris @leyra-giovanni @erenspersonalwh0re @peachesncats @soapsoftheworld @iwannabecamiloshovel @vintagevict0ria @smithieandy @moonlit-mizukage @snazzyturtles @argwein

A/N: For those whose tags arent working, im sorry! I tried and for some reason, your names wont show up in the mentions :( another way of being notified is to turn on my blog notifs for @teamatsumufics . I only reblog my fics there so it serves almost like being in a taglist!

850 notes · View notes

little-diable · 9 months

Text

First Impression – Billy Butcher (smut)

I'm back on my Billy bullshit, y'all just have to endure it. Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated. Enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: The reader needs a date to a gathering, and since Hughie can't keep any of her secrets, she finds herself tangled in a fake dating situation with Billy

Warnings: 18+, smut, piv, choking, fake dating, friends to lovers, the reader has awful parents

Pairing: Billy Butcher x fem!reader (2.5k words)

“Just say it.” Billy’s voice echoed through her kitchen, darkening eyes set on her frame. An expression torn between embarrassment and annoyance tugged on her features, forcing a sigh to leave (y/n). She momentarily turned her back on Billy, allowing her eyes to flutter close while she took a deep breath. “C’mon doll, spit it out, I don’t have much time eh?”

“Fucking Hughie.” The words left her like a whisper, making a breeze into a storm so furious no people surrounding her were safe. “Look, just forget it, okay? I’ll figure it out.”

“No, that’s not the way we do it, and you know it.” A somewhat amused smirk began to widen on Billy’s lips, hand running along his beard as he kept watching her. It felt like he was interrogating her, which he kind of was, though not because of any supe mess they were tangled in, but because Hughie couldn't keep his fucking mouth shut.

“Fine. I need a date for a family thing, I’m done with being looked down on because I apparently can’t keep a man for long.” Billy’s raspy chuckles flushed another wave of embarrassment through her, body finding shelter on the kitchen chair vis-a-vis his. Billy studied her for a few more moments, dragging out the passing by seconds he clearly found enjoyment in.

“And you want me to be your date? Could have just said so, love.” He leaned back in his chair with a satisfied smirk, arms crossed in front of his chest. (Y/n) fought against the angry groan wanting to leave her, making a silent promise that she’d strangle Hughie the next time she crossed paths with him.

“I don’t want you as my date.” She stared him down, eyes challenging his without needing to speak any further words. Both knew that Billy had her trapped, both knew that Hughie knew all about the emotions both harboured, emotions not shared with one another once.

“Why don’t I believe that? But, you sure you want your parents to meet me?” Amusement dripped from Billy’s words, slowly rising to his feet to round the table, hand finding her chin before (y/n) could pick up on his movements. “I wouldn’t make the best impression as your boyfriend, would I?”

“You’re a fucking cunt, Billy, but Hughie’s right, you’re my best shot.” His thumb ran along her lower lip, tongue kissing his teeth as he pondered over her words for a few beats of his calmly pounding heart.

“Well, what’s in for me then?”

……

“Fuck, doll, you want me to concentrate on anything while you wear this?” Billy’s eyes wandered down her frame, taking in the dress she was wearing, fingers aching to feel the fabric. His cock twitched in his dress pants, begging to feel her close, wanting to bury himself inside of her as she’d choke on his name.

The memory of their first night together haunted Billy whenever he got a few minutes to let his thoughts wander, caught up in the sounds she had produced, her whimpers, moans, and the sweetest call of his name. Fuck, he wasn’t proud to admit that he had fucked his hand to the thought of her whenever he needed a quick relief ever since that night – something he had been aching for since he had been fortunate enough to bury his face between her tights.

“Don’t give me that look, Butcher, otherwise we won’t make it to my parents' house.” Her chuckles left him smirking, hand taking hers as he walked her to the car, helping her inside. She didn’t pick up on the “Would that be so bad?” leaving Billy, unable to let go of the memories of (y/n)’s naked body thumping through his mind like a shot of Compound V.

The drive went by too quickly, though (y/n)‘s eyes kept flickering down to the hand placed on her knee, thumb stroking circles into the fabric. The heat his touch pushed through her left her trembling, wondering if it was humanly possible to feel whatever she was now held hostage by.

“So, you always run around dressed up like this when meeting your parents?” Billie’s teasing grin had an all too familiar touch to it, and yet she still wasn’t used to seeing it directed at her. She had always envied those that managed to gain his attention for longer than just a few seconds, painfully oblivious to the way he stared at her for minutes whenever she wasn't looking.

“You‘ll understand once you meet them.”

……

“Fuck me, how did you turn out like this with an upbringing this fancy?” Billy murmured the words against her skin, breath fanning her neck as he held her close. Their eyes wandered through their surroundings, taking in the strangers that filled her parents' mansion. (Y/n) barely recognised any of the people walking past her and Billy, not sparing the two a glance.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” She turned around in his grasp, eyes finding his as she sipped on her champagne, hand finding the back of his neck. He looked undeniably handsome, the suit hugged his frame perfectly, an unfamiliar, welcomed view, even though (y/n) would always prefer his Hawaiian shirts.

“Oi, you know exactly what that means, eh?” His smirk left her giggling, eyes rolling as she murmured a soft “You cunt”. Their bickering was interrupted by the sound of someone clearing their throat, forcing (y/n) to meet two pairs of all too familiar, curious eyes. Her parents stared at her and Billy, all too obviously wondering who the man was.

“Mom, dad, it’s good to see you.” She shared a quick hug with them, nothing warm nor soft, perfectly matching the rather distanced relationship she and her parents had never worked on. “That’s William Butcher, my boyfriend.”

“Nice to meet you.” Billy shook their hands before his hand found his way back to (y/n)’s waist, softly squeezing her side. He could tell that she didn’t feel comfortable, counting the passing by seconds till they could leave without her parents noticing.

“Well, it was time for you to finally settle down. Let's hope you won't mess it up this time. You two should come visit soon, now, if you’ll excuse us.” With an almost pained gaze she watched her parents disappear, blending in with the big crowd all too easily. Only the pressure Billy used to squeeze her waist managed to rip (y/n) out of her thoughts, forced to blink away her tears before she dared to meet his dark eyes. He studied her for a few seconds as if he was looking at a painting, trying to decipher symbols, trying to match meanings to colours.

Wordlessly Billy began to pull her through the crowd, fingers interlaced to keep her close. The chilly air wrapped itself around them like a translucent veil, hugging their limbs as they walked through the quiet garden. (Y/n) wasn’t used to feeling Billy close, at least not this close, and yet it felt as if she had dared to taste the forbidden fruit, already addicted, unable to work against the crush she had harboured for endless weeks by now.

“You okay?” His murmurs broke the comfortable silence, hand finding (y/n)’s warm cheek. Their eyes didn’t dare break contact, forced closer together till not even a piece of paper would fit between them. Billy had always been gentle with her, not daring to toss her around like the rest of his crew, but the way he looked at her in this very moment was unfamiliar, nothing she could pinpoint.

“I’m used to it, it keeps on hurting, but I’ll be alright. Thank you though.” A few more moments passed before Billy closed the gap between them, lips finding hers. Her surprised gasp rumbled through her, vibrating on the lips that moved in sync with hers. (Y/n)’s hands found his neck, toying with the dark hairs she had pulled that night when he had fucked her into oblivion, making her forget her own name.

“Want to get out of here, doll?”

……

The door to her apartment fell close with a thud, sound swallowed by the moan leaving (y/n) as Billy hungrily kissed her. His hands worked on her dress, letting the fabric fall to the ground, with his suit jacket following moments later. Wordlessly she guided him into her bedroom, thoughts set on the orgasms he’d push through her system that night, desperate for any kind of distraction.

Both parted to allow Billy to undress, giving (y/n)’s eyes the chance to wander up and down his frame, already aching for his touch, needing to feel his hands on her skin, between her thighs and on her chest. With only their underwear clinging to their frames, they found one another again in her bed, sharing kisses as Billy pressed her against the mattress, trapping her.

“Won’t be gentle with you tonight, doll, hope you know that.” She could only moan in response, begging him to leave his marks, to remind her of the power he held over her. Billy’s mouth found her collarbones, kissing them as his hands worked on her bra, freeing her breasts. Ever since they had slept with one another all these weeks ago, (y/n) had tried to mimic his touch whenever she was needy for another high, and yet she had never managed to take care of herself the way Billy could. His big hands worked on her breasts, tugging on her hardening nipples, sucking on them to force a few more moans out of her.

She felt his cock pressing against her thighs, aching to feel her wrapped around him, to feel her close. Though before (y/n) could even dare to think of touching him, Billy murmured her name, commanding her to hold still.

“Hands over your head where I can see them, tonight is all about you, doll.” A whine of protest left her, a sound Billy couldn’t help but chuckle at. His eyes kept staring her down as he worked on her panties, pulling them down her leg to gain access to her dripping folds. “You’re soaked, baby. All for me, huh?”

“Fuck yes, just for you.” The second his tongue brushed her folds, (y/n) threw her head back, allowing her body to produce the most sinful sounds. Her heart was racing in her chest, working on the adrenaline he pushed through her, leaving her trembling beneath him. Billy’s tongue worked in wicked ways, pushing her closer to the edge in no time as he dug his fingers into her skin to keep her close.

“How many can you take, eh? Two? Three?” (Y/n) couldn’t reply, eyes squeezed shut in order to stop herself from giving in, not yet ready to let this moment pass. Without another warning, Billy pushed two fingers into her tightness, spreading her walls like his cock would do in a few minutes. His name rolled off her tongue like a prayer, and yet the moment was too sinful for any god to hear the call, letting the devil darken the clouds above them. “Atta girl, so good for me, don’t know how I’ve managed to refrain from fucking you for the past weeks.”

She wanted to reply, wanted to tell him that she had struggled just as much, and yet no words managed to push past her lips. All (y/n) could do was choke on her gasps, on the whines he coaxed out of her, about to let go. But Billy knew her body all too well, letting go of her before she could fall from the cliff, allowing the heavenly feeling to rush through her.

“Condom?” (Y/n) pointed towards her nightstand, watching him pull the silvery packet free as she was catching her breath, trying to find words she could use to curse him, hating him from pulling away too soon. Her lust drunken eyes watched Billy free his cock, rolling the condom down his twitching cock, aligning himself with her heat.

One of his hands found her throat, keeping her pinned to the mattress as he pushed into her, forcing her walls to adjust to his girth. Both moaned in unison, foreheads pressed together in a desperate try to ground themselves. Their hearts kept skipping beats, unable to hold back as Billy started moving, building a ruthless pace that made (y/n) claw her fingernails into his shoulder.

Their bodies moved together, skin meeting with every thrust that pushed them closer to the edge. Billy’s hand tightened its grip on her throat, heightening her senses, making her blood rush in her ears. (Y/n)’s gasps for air left him smirking, finding a sick sense of satisfaction in the way he had her trapped, how easily he could guide her body like he was owning her.

“Billy,” she moaned his name, glassy eyes finding his, begging him to keep on going. “Fuck I’m close.” The sensation he had ripped from her moments ago was back, flushing through her system like a drug, pushing her towards the edge once again. He didn’t reply, kept ruthlessly snapping his hips against hers, not daring to let go just yet.

“Look at you, drunk on my cock, so desperate for me.” His words left her groaning, eyes fluttering close as her orgasm washed through her without another warning. With a smirk tugging on his lips, Billy watched her come undone, fucking her through the sensation till his own orgasm started to rock through him.

Their trembling bodies stayed connected for a few more moments, trying to catch their breaths before Billy parted from her. He got rid of the condom, wordlessly cleaning her up with a towel, careful not to put pressure on the marks his lips and fingers have left on her skin.

“You okay?” He kissed her, arm finding her waist to pull her close. She nodded her head as a content sigh left her, head placed on his chest. His fingers drew shapes into her skin, letting his thoughts wander till her soft whispers interrupted them.

“Will you leave again?” (Y/n) could still remember the morning she had woken without him near, disappearing in the middle of the night. Back then she hadn’t been able to bite down her hurt, feeling used by the man she couldn’t help but long for.

“Do you want me to?” Their eyes met as (y/n) tilted her head towards him, hand cupping his bearded cheek. She gave it a few seconds before she softly kissed him, murmuring a quiet “Never”.

#Billy Butcher smut #Billy Butcher imagine #Billy Butcher x reader #the boys

772 notes · View notes

rebeliz7 · 6 days

Text

Dangerous

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Reader / Natasha Romanoff x Reader / Wanda Maximoff x Natasha Romanoff

Request: 32 & 64 prompts for Wanda or Natasha or maybe both😏

32. “If you interrupt me one more time, so help me god.”

64. “You’re not taking me to bed. ever.” “Who said it had to be on the bed?”

…

“If you interrupt me one more time, so help me God.” Natasha threatens you, annoyed and left eye twitching.

She’s not being serious, at least not entirely, but you still raise your hands in surrender and lean back in your seat.

However, her eyes stay firmly locked with yours, and you have to smile at how worked up she seems. She rolls her eyes when you smile, just like you were expecting her to, and the meeting moves along.

You weren’t interrupting her exactly, but it’s become intensely apparent that your presence annoys the hell out of Natasha. Whatever the reason.

Not that you go out of your way to annoy her, that’s not the case at all. The thing is, and you’ve been aware of this for a while now, you make her nervous. So nervous that she doesn’t know how to deal with you.

No one else seems to be aware of that little fact, although the entire Avengers Team lives together for the time being. But Natasha knows that you know, which makes her angry.

Irrationally so, you must say.

“She’s gonna get you one of these days.” Clint warns you in a low voice.

“Yeah, but not today.” You joke, and Clint laughs softly to himself.

“You don’t wanna push Nat. Trust me.”

“Oh I'm not worried, trust me.”

…

The meeting ends on a neutral note, since Sam and Bucky lost track of their target on their latest mission. A team needs to fly out to Mexico to lend a hand and things will get a move on again.

Steve and Clint are going, and so is Shuri. This is not Shuri’s first mission, but you take it upon yourself to get her as ready as she can be before they fly out.

She’s grown on you, in a 'younger sister' sort of way. You guess it's because she’s younger than you, and so amazingly smart, that her awe for everything you guys do endears her to you greatly.

“Don’t get killed while I’m gone.” She tells you as you walk her into the hanger, and you’re tempted to laugh.

“You’re going on a mission with Barton, you’re the one that should be worried. I’ll be fine right here.”

“True, but Natasha is about to kick your ass into a coma if you keep pushing her.” She reminds you, and you huff indignantly.

“Why does everyone think she can kick my ass that easily?” You ask loudly, just as Clint comes out of the jet with a pointed look.

“Because she can.” He deadpans. “And she will if you don’t give her some space.”

“I didn’t hear any of that.” You pointendly tell him while Shuri gives you a goodbye hug. “Still trying to process this lack of faith from both of you in my fighting skills.”

“Keep it up.” Clint tells you with another look.

“That’s what she said.” You joke, and you hear Shuri laugh too. Clint chuckles and shakes his head at you, probably thinking that you’re gonna get your ass kicked for real.

“There’s a kid here!” Steve shouts from the jet, and you run back inside before that lecture reaches your ears.

…

When you walk inside the kitchen you find Wanda by the stove, stirring a red sauce and your spirits instantly pique up.

“Can I have some?” You ask, coming up behind her. She yelps in surprise, and you press a kiss on her cheek.

“You scared me.” She smiles, her cheeks tainting red at your proximity, and you lean against the counter as she turns off the stove before checking on the pasta. “Can you set the table? This is ready.”

She’s a pro at this, and you can't resist her cooking.

“It smells really good. My mouth is watering already.” You tell her as you set out two plates, and her cheeks grow redder.

You smile to yourself, and can’t deny that you’re almost inclined to kiss those cheeks again, but you resist the urge. You and Wanda didn’t exactly date, but you did sleep together a few times, and you thought of asking her out properly, but the timing was never right so nothing real ever came up from it.

Then she moved on -with Vision of all people- and you moved on too. Not that anyone was supportive when you started dating Emma Frost, and maybe you see their point now. Emma was a wild ride, to say the least.

Shaking your head to get rid of the memories, you pass Wanda the plates.

“Can you get another one?” Wanda asks you.

“This isn’t dinner for two?” You ask as you go to take down another plate, and she shakes her head.

“Natasha is here too. She went to take a quick shower, so she'll be here any minute.”

You smile to yourself.

...

Natasha is tempted to bolt the moment she sees you’re going to join them for dinner, and you grin when you meet her eyes. It must be infuriating that you can so easily tell what goes through her mind, when she’s spent her entire life training to be unreadable.

You know she hates it, and often wonders how you’re capable of doing it. To be quite honest, you have no idea either. You just have this sixth sense when it comes to her, that lets you read her like an open book.

But, you keep your mouth shut all through dinner. You behave, while Wanda and Natasha chat away. You even get seconds, and fill their glasses with more wine when they get low.

All in all, you don’t annoy Natasha at all while you eat, and you even offer to clean up while they move to the living room with a second bottle of red to continue their conversation.

You put the dishes in the dishwasher, wipe down all the surfaces, and when you’re done you take a beer from the fridge with the intention to leave them to it.

“You can join us.” Natasha calls out, just as you take your first sip.

“You sure?” You ask her, and she rolls her eyes, her go-to reaction whenever you open your mouth.

“As long as you keep the innuendos to yourself, we’re okay.” She sips her wine delicately then, and you -a mere mortal- become entranced with the shape of her lips, and the sensual way in which she drinks.

“Sure.” You clear your throat, and drink almost half of your beer in one go.

You’d be lying if you said that you’ve never thought of Natasha in other, much more naked circumstances, but you’re aware that that is never gonna happen, and you’re okay with it.

“You’re uncharacteristically quiet.” Wanda notices after a while when she comes back with yet another bottle of red, and another beer for you.

“I don’t want to annoy the pretty lady over there.” Natasha groans at your response, which only makes you smile. You almost can’t believe how easy it is for her to become agitated in your presence.

“You gotta try harder than that.” She deadpans, and Wanda takes the seat next to yours instead of sitting in front of you, like she was before she went to the kitchen.

“I’m not annoying, am I?” You ask Wanda, and she gives you this smile that you immediately feel drawn to.

You breathe in deeply as she gives you this look that makes hot electricity run through you, and runs her fingers through your hair. You do miss her, especially when she’s looking at you like this and her fingers are in your hair.

“You’re quite charming.” She says, and you think she might reciprocate if you were to kiss her right now.

“You see?” You look at Natasha, and she rolls her eyes, but not with malice.

“Maybe I just don’t like you.” She says before sipping her newly refilled glass of wine, and you clutch your chest in mock offense.

“You wound me.” You scoff while smiling, but deep down you do feel hurt by her words. Not a lot, but still.

“Natasha likes you.” Wanda tells you then, and you’d think she’s joking if the look on Natasha’s face wasn’t so telling.

“She does, huh?” You ask, mostly to yourself.

“I thought there were things we agreed on not sharing with anyone.” Natasha reminds her, and Wanda shrugs lightly, the glass of wine close to her lips as she smiles.

“What happens in the bedroom stays in the bedroom?” She asks, and with a start you realize that she’s slightly drunk, and oversharing is -unfortunately- her one obvious tell.

That’s how everyone found out that you two were sleeping together a while ago, and right now she’s just revealed that she and Natasha are a little more than just friends.

“I swear to God, if you even think of saying anything right now.” Natasha threatens you, and you laugh, your comeback at the tip of your tongue.

“She likes you too.” Wanda tells Natasha, her finger pointing at you, and you choke on your beer.

“You’re not seriously trying to play matchmaker here.” Natasha’s grin is otherwise telling of how amused she’s finding this entire exchange.

“What? It's not like I even had to look inside her head to know that.” Wanda says, and you finally put your beer down after getting your coughing fit under control. “I’m not wrong, am I?”

She has the audacity to shoot you a smug look, as if she wasn’t throwing you under the bus here.

“Well, no.”

“Great.” Natasha sneers.

“Okay, now hold on.” You speak up as Wanda laughs, and you take the glass of wine from her hands. She’s had enough to drink. “There are different levels of liking someone.”

“Educate us, please.” Wanda is trying to hold back laughter now, and you really - she’s just - she’s such a little shit.

“Well, I wouldn’t exactly kick Nat out of my bed. But, I’m not interested in anything more than that. No offense.” You add quickly.

“None taken, and you’re not taking me to bed. Ever. So don’t worry about it.” Natasha tells you, and how can you not take that one? Sometimes she just makes it easy for you.

“Who said it had to be a bed?” You retort and her face turns red, and you’re not sure if she’s about to kick your ass or just shoot you on the spot.

However, you’re not expecting her to walk over, and kiss you dead on the lips. Which is exactly what she does.

When she pulls back Wanda is laughing, and you’re pretty sure you’re dreaming.

“Cat got your tongue?” Natasha asks when you finally open your eyes, and you swallow with difficulty.

Without waiting a beat you pull her back in, kissing her again, a bit more forcefully than she did first, and she kisses you back in earnest. A part of you isn’t sure of what’s happening, but the other part of you is enjoying this turn of events quite a bit.

“Well, well, well.” You comment when she pulls back, as if she’s finally realized what she was doing. If you’re smiling like a lunatic it’s only because you truly can't help it.

“Is anyone going to kiss me?” Wanda asks, and you break eye contact with Natasha to look at her.

“Come here, you needy monster.” You pull her onto your lap, and she straddles you with ease and familiarity. A pretty smile on her pink lips as she cups your face, and you wrap your arms around her waist.

Kissing Wanda is still heaven. You’re once again submerged in her world, and you still find it incredibly addictive. She bites your bottom lip softly as she rocks her hips forward to meet yours, and you can’t help but let your hands wander.

Grabbing a handful of her ass you pull her closer to you as she deepens your kiss, and you can taste the red wine on her tongue. Her breath is hot as she breathes heavily into your mouth, and your mind becomes fuzzy with want.

“Such a good kisser.” Wanda says against your lips, and you smile sweetly. She’s so adorable, especially from this angle, and the way she scrunches up her nose makes you want to kiss all over her face.

“Better than me?” Natasha asks, and to your surprise you turn your head to find her sitting right next to you.

“I’m not sure.” Wanda says with a false thoughtful look, and hidden smile.

Natasha doesn’t give her a verbal answer, instead you watch the redhead grab Wanda by the neck, and pull her down for an intense kiss that has Wanda moaning in a matter of seconds.

You watch them kiss while holding Wanda’s hand, and your throat dries up. You watch, and realize that this is actually happening. You watch until you can’t anymore.

Grabbing a hold of Wanda’s arm you pull her back to you, and kiss her hungrily. She’s still moaning, her hands now desperately pulling off your shirt, as you do the same with her sweater.

You hear Natasha softly chuckling next to you, but you’re already too wrapped up in everything that Wanda is to care about the world, let alone Natasha’s smug laughter.

“I’ve missed your lips,” Wanda says as she pulls back slightly, a tipsy smile on her extremely kissable lips.

You smile while your hands squeeze her bare waist, and you don't hold back from kissing her again. You’ve missed her lips too, and you hope she can read between the lines.

Her hands in your hair pull back lightly, exposing your neck as she moves to place heady kisses all over it. You’re breathing rapidly now, your hands massaging her breasts, as she licks a path up your throat, still pulling on your hair.

“Kinda feeling left out here.” Natasha’s voice breaks through the fog in your mind, and Wanda sits back on your lap, as she tries to get her breathing under control.

“I’m not sure of what's happening exactly.” Wanda says as you inch closer to her. Your hands are still on her, touching every inch of her exposed skin as you can, while she combs back your hair. You kiss her upper breast, careful not to leave any hickies, despite desperately wanting to.

She gasps, and you look up to kiss her lips, focusing on pinching her nipples now as she rocks her hips forward.

“You want to stop?” You ask after pulling back only the necessary amount to be able to ask her that.

“No.” She shakes her head, her hand gently caressing your cheek as she looks into your eyes. “I think I want you both.”

Instinctively you look towards Natasha, who is still holding her glass of wine, and sipping the red liquid delicately as she observes the two of you.

“Do you - ” Wanda grabs your chin, making you look at her. “Do you want me?” She asks, and you move to pull her ever closer to you. As if that’s possible.

“Always.” You nod quickly, and as you kiss the corner of her lips she turns to look at Natasha with the same question.

“You don’t ever have to worry about that.” You hear Natasha say, but you refuse to stop kissing every single inch of her skin to look.

“I don’t?” Wanda asks breathlessly, your mouth doing wonders on her neck, while your hands reacquainted themselves with the rest of her body.

“You don’t.” Natasha says, and she sounds much closer now. Her voice is more sultry than you've ever heard it before, and you pull back, if only to see the look on her face.

You watch her take Wanda’s outstretched hand as she stands, and pulls Wanda on her feet as well. You swallow with difficulty as you watch her kiss Wanda softly, lips merely ghosting over each other.

However fleeting the kiss though, you see Wanda’s legs quiver and Natasha’s arm wrapping around her waist to keep her upright.

“Bedroom?” She asks her with the confidence of someone who already knows the answer, and Wanda nods, as if in a daze.

You watch them walk away, and you try to calm your racing heart, but it’s difficult when Wanda turns to you from the hallway.

“You coming?” She asks you, and you’re pretty sure that your brain short circuits.

You stand up, picking up your unfinished beer, and down it in one go before you nod, and walk towards her.

“That's what she said.” You stupidly joke, and Natasha rolls her eyes expectedly, but now you see that the edge in her eyes isn’t entirely hate.

“Incorrigible.” Wanda smiles as she grabs your hand, and pulls enough for you to fall into step next to her.

“You’re dangerous.” You murmur close to her ear as you wrap your arms around her from behind, and she throws you a side glance, feigning innocence.

“I have no idea what you mean.” She says, and Natasha chuckles lightly as she unlocks the door to her bedroom.

“Sure you don’t.” She says as she pulls Wanda in for a demanding kiss, and you close the door behind you.

Well, you think to yourself, Natasha might actually end up killing you after all, but at least it’ll be pleasurable for the both of you.

...

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda maximoff #na #natasha romanoff x you #nat #natasha romanoff imagine #nata #wanda maximoff x natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff

387 notes · View notes

wholoveseggs · 13 days

Note

Hi love,, how about elijah and reader have recently broken up and ready is exploring other options but elijah is still madly in love and gets super jealous? I’m thinking super rough with a touch of angst but mostly anger and jealousy?! (also a lot of kinks) ⋆˚✿˖°

Madness

18+ ---- {Masterlist} {Tag-List}

You bring a date to the Mikaelson party, specifically to attract the attention of your estranged husband. The plan backfires; he's not the type to let you go so easily and makes sure to remind you that no one will ever take his place.

♡♡ Thanks for the request @spideysbabe & @ashloring! I love writing about Elijah's wild side ♡♡

6.4k words - Warnings: smut, oral sex, dom!Elijah, angry sex, rough sex, biting, blood drinking, spanking, jealousy, rim job (f!receiving), anal sex, riding, Elijah being possessive, lots of praise and a little degradation.

You probably shouldn't have brought a date to a Mikaelson party, but considering how you and Elijah ended things, you saw no problem with it. Was it petty? Yes. Was it immature? Also yes. Were you feeling a bit vindicated when you walked in the door and saw the look on Elijah's face? Absolutely.

You found the hottest guy possible on tinder, the kind with zero brains and all brawn. He was the perfect rebound, the type with an inability to commit to anyone, let alone you, but that's not what you wanted from him anyway. All you wanted was to make your ex jealous, and judging by the glare he shot at your date, it was working.

To the undiscerning eye, Elijah appeared to be the picture of composure, greeting the guests in one of his favorite suits. But you knew him better than that, and you could see the twitch in his jaw, the slight tension in his shoulders. And judging by the way he was avoiding your gaze, he was pissed.

When he was pissed, specifically at you, he would usually get you alone and give you a proper dressing down, and it always turned you on, a lot. The first time you'd fucked after a fight, it had taken you both by surprise. His usual gentle nature had given way to a possessiveness that made you see stars, and ever since, you'd been chasing the feeling.

You didn't really have a plan, a part of you wanted to do the healthy thing and move on, but there was another part of you, a part that was addicted to Elijah,that just wanted him back, it had been that way for so long you could barely remember a time before him. You were still mad at him, though, so you decided the best thing to do would be to try to make him jealous.

Your date wasn't going to last past tonight, you knew that, but he was the perfect prop for your little game. You knew Elijah would find you, you just needed to set the stage, so you pulled the big dumb beefcake to the dance floor.

He was a terrible dancer, but you didn't care, it wasn't about him. You already caught him flirting with several other women in the short amount of time you'd been here, but you couldn't be bothered. As long as he showed up on your arm, and looked hot while doing it, that's all that mattered.

"That asshole in the suit has been staring at us this whole time, and he doesn't seem too happy," your date said, trying to whisper, but it came out much too loud. You'd chosen him specifically because of that, you liked the way people looked at the two of you.

"Don't worry about him," you replied, pressing yourself against his body a little closer. "He's an ex. A controlling ex."

"He looks a little old for you, what is he like? 35?" Your date asked, looking directly at Elijah.

You stifled a laugh, "close enough, I guess."

"How long were you together? He's still giving me death eyes," he whispered, not subtly.

"A while," you shrugged, "but that doesn't matter anymore." You leaned forward and whispered in his ear, "I'm yours for the night."

You'd hoped he'd get the hint, but apparently it took a lot of hints for him to understand that you were looking for sex, and not anything else.

"Why'd you break up? He's obviously still hung up on you." The music changed, and he was still talking. "Did he cheat on you? I know a lot of guys who do that."

"No, nothing like that," you answered, your annoyance growing, "he's just a selfish asshole who likes to masquerade about his morals." You weren't entirely lying, you were pretty sure Elijah's ego was the driving force behind his recent decisions. "Plus he has a tiny cock," you added, for good measure.

Your date laughed, and you had to laugh along, you could feel Elijah's glaze burning into you. You glanced his way and his eyes met yours, and you had to resist the urge to blush under his gaze. His eyebrows were raised, a twinkle of amusement and anger in his eyes. You could practically hear him telling you that wasn't funny, that you were acting like a child.

Elijah always hated when you acted out. It was like he wanted you to be some sort of prim and proper lady, which you were for the most part. But every now and then, you felt the urge to be bad, and you enjoyed pushing his buttons.

"Get me a drink?" You asked your date, batting your eyelashes and giving him a wide smile.

"Of course," he replied, before heading off to the bar.

You went to a nearby table and leaned against it, trying to appear casual. You felt Elijah's presence behind you, and your stomach twisted in anticipation.

"Do you think I don't know what you're doing?" He asked, not bothering with pleasantries.

"Whatever do you mean?" You asked, pretending to be coy.

"This boy isn't going to last past tonight, so why did you invite him here?" He asked, leaning forward, his lips almost touching your ear.

"I don't know, I thought he might be fun," you shrugged, playing innocent. "I didn't realize I wasn't allowed to date other people," you added, knowing it would infuriate him.

"You are allowed to do whatever you want, but there will always be consequences," he replied, his voice low. "And your boy is getting a bit too friendly with my sister, don't you think?"

You glanced over, and sure enough, your date was chatting up Rebekah. Poor guy had no idea that Rebekah could eat him alive.

"I think Rebekah can handle herself," you said, looking away.

"You're not upset? You don't seem particularly attached to him," he asked, his fingers lightly brushing against your elbow.

"Worried that someone else has claimed my heart?" You asked, turning around to face him, a teasing smile on your lips.

"No, because I know it will always belong to me," he replied, a smirk on his face, a knowing look in his eyes. He always knew how to disarm you, and piss you off.

"I'm not yours, I think I made that very fucking clear," you snapped, your smile fading. The pain of your breakup was still fresh, and his arrogant attitude only fueled the fire.

"We both know that's not true," he said, stepping closer. "Even if we're not together, you're still mine."

"You are such an arrogant prick," you huffed, trying not to show how much his words affected you. You wanted to hate him, and sometimes you could, but in moments like this, your feelings for him overwhelmed you.

"If you think insulting me will erase how you feel for me, then you are deluded," he scoffed, before grabbing the back of your head, forcing you to meet his gaze.

He paused for a moment, taking in the fire in your eyes, the defiance that turned him on. He loved the struggle, it always led to the sweetest surrender with you.

"Did he fuck you yet?" He asked, his lips dangerously close to yours.

"That's none of your business," you snapped, pulling your head out of his grip.

Your date returned with the drinks before you could say anything, placing one in your hands.

"Here, honey. I got you a dirty martini," he said, before glancing at Elijah. "Get your own girl, mate, this one's mine," he added, wrapping an arm around your waist.

The blood boiled in Elijah's veins and he resisted the urge to grab this stupid boy by his head and slam it onto the table. Instead he gave him a deadly glare, smiling when the poor fool flinched slightly.

"You are aware that you are in my home with your arm around my wife," he said, his voice deceptively calm. He could feel you watching him, waiting for his reaction, and he was determined not to give you the satisfaction. Not yet, anyway.

"Your wife?" The boy sputtered, loosening his grip on you. "I didn't realize...I..."

You rolled your eyes, annoyed that he was letting Elijah intimidate him. You see Elijah's self-satisfied grin and it pisses you off.

"Don't mind him," you said, patting your date's chest. "He's just a control freak who's a bit threatened by younger men." You looked up at him, giving him a teasing smile. You knew you were poking the bear, but you couldn't help it, Elijah was making you feel things, and you were determined not to let him win.

Elijah leaned in close, his pupils dilating as he compelled him. "Sit and be quiet," he commanded, and the boy obeyed without question.

"What did you do that for?" You hissed, slapping him on the shoulder. "He didn't do anything to deserve that." The truth was, he wasn't doing much for you, but he didn't need to know that.

"There, now we can continue our conversation," Elijah said, ignoring your protest. "Now, answer my question. Did you fuck him yet?" He asked, his tone serious. His hand was resting on your hip, his grip firm. He knew exactly what he was doing, and it was driving you crazy.

"You didn't have to do that," you said, trying to remain unaffected by the whole exchange.

"It was either that or kill him," he shrugged.

"Well, now you're being a bit dramatic," you scoffed. You were determined to maintain the upper hand, despite the fact that he was getting under your skin. "He's an idiot, but he didn't deserve to die."

Rebekah had noticed the two of you standing there, and she headed over. She knew about your recent fight, and the reason for it. She also knew that the two of you were a disaster when it came to communicating, so she did what she did best and interfered.

"Well, well, what is this?" She asked, raising her eyebrows.

"Just a friendly conversation, dear sister," Elijah replied, his voice tight.

Rebekah looked down at the dazed man sitting between them, and then back up to the two of you. "Doesn't seem very friendly."

"Your brother is a possessive asshole, who thinks he owns me," you said, glaring at him.

"Your sister in law is acting like a child, trying to provoke me," Elijah replied, matching your glare.

Rebekah looked back and forth between the two of you, before shaking her head. "You two are exhausting," she sighed, "I think it's time for your date to leave, fix him, and send him home," she added, her voice leaving no room for argument.

Elijah sighed and looked down at your date, "stand up," he commanded, watching as the man did as he was told. "You will leave and forget that my wife even exists,"

"Elijah! You can't make someone forget me!" You said, outraged. Your plan was backfiring. You were supposed to piss him off and make him jealous, not the other way around.

Before Elijah could respond Rebekah grabbed the both of you by the arm and led you upstairs, into an empty bedroom.

"The two of you are being ridiculous. Acting like children and making a scene. This party was supposed to be a nice, relaxing evening. We are not in a fucking reality show," she scolded, her face turning red with anger. "Now, you are going to work this out, so I don't have to witness this bullshit anymore."

She slammed the door before either of you could respond. You turned to look at Elijah, and for a moment, the two of you were silent, the air filled with tension.

"Y/n," Elijah started, reaching out for your hand, but you pulled it away.

"I'm not doing this with you right now," you replied, moving towards the door, but Elijah blocked your way.

"Move," you ordered, glaring at him.

"No, not until you talk to me," he said, his jaw clenching.

"Or what? You'll compel me to stay?" You scoffed.

Elijah's expression changed to anger, taking a step forward and backing you up against the wall.

"You know that I would never do that," he growled, his voice low.

"You compelled my date, Elijah, and that was pretty low, even for you," you retorted, your hands coming up to push on his chest.

"That man was an absolute bore," he responded, a slight grin on his face.

"That doesn't make what you did okay, Elijah!" You shouted, frustration bubbling inside you.

"Don't pretend like you care, this isn't about him," he laughed. He knew what you were trying to do, and you hated that. "You brought him here because you want to provoke me," he continued, "you want to punish me."

"Maybe," you sighed, looking away, the heat between the two of you simmering. "Look, we just keep having the same fight," you finally said after a moment, still refusing to make eye contact. "We're never going to agree on this."

"We've overcome much worse in our time together," he countered, reaching out to cup your cheek, turning your head back towards him. "We are meant to be together. I know it, and you know it.

"Then why do you keep doing this to me, to us?" You whispered, barely audible. "You let Klaus use you over and over again, and it always ends badly. Why can't you just be satisfied with what we have?" You were trying hard not to cry, your emotions a messy jumble of pain, love and anger.

"My brother can be very persuasive, he's had over a thousand years to work on that," he explained, his thumb wiping away a tear that had slipped out. "He needs someone to believe in him, to fight for him, and it seems no one other than me is capable of that, or wants to even try."

You had heard this all before, the endless excuses, the justifications. "Don't you think its time he figured his own shit out and stop using you for it?" You snapped, losing your patience again. "He treats you like a means to an end, Elijah, and that has to hurt. I see how it hurts you, and it pains me to see you like this."

"What you are doing, fucking some nameless wretch just to piss me off, that hurts far more than Klaus," Elijah growled, his face inches from yours.

You opened your mouth to argue, but his lips crashed down onto yours, stealing your breath from you. You tried to resist him, but it was impossible. His kiss was intoxicating and you melted against him. Your hands tangled in his hair as you tugged him closer. He groaned and you pulled away, pushing against his chest, hard. He stumbled back a bit, a look of surprise on his face. He blinked, confused and you moved toward the door once again.

He grabbed your wrist, stopping you and pulling you to him. His lips were on yours in an instant, claiming you, dominating you. There was no point in fighting it, you were his, and you both knew it.

He moved to your throat and your head tipped back as he gently sucked and nipped at the delicate skin there. A small moan escaped your lips and your knees felt weak, a wet heat spreading between your thighs.

Your free hand wrapped in his tie and pulled him back to your lips. The kiss was raw and needy, and it awakened a fierce hunger inside both of you. Elijah let go of your hand and roughly grabbed your hips, lifting you up, slamming you into the wall. The force knocked the wind out of you but it wasn't enough to make you stop.

"Eli," you said with a bit more urgency, knowing that neither of you could keep it up much longer before you took things much, much further. "I - I can't, we shouldn't..." You tried to argue, but your body was betraying you, and his touches were setting your skin aflame.

Elijah released your hand and tugged at the hem of your dress, pulling it up to your hip. His hand dipped between your thighs, finding the soft, soaked lace of your underwear, a smirk spreading across his face.

"Liar," he whispered into your ear.

It wasn't like you had no control. If you wanted him to stop, all you had to do is say no and you knew Elijah would, but that's not what you really wanted. All your anger and frustration was dissolving into pure lust.

Elijah moved your panties aside, gently stroking his fingertips along your wet slit, slowly dragging the pad of his middle finger around your clit before dipping into your core. He watched the desire on your face as he pushed two fingers inside you and his eyes darkened at how wet you were for him.

"You're such a greedy little thing," he groaned into your ear, pumping his fingers deeper, "always so wet for me."

His fingers pumped faster and harder, his mouth finding yours, muffling your moans. When his thumb started massaging your clit, that was all it took. You shuddered as an orgasm rolled through you and you clutched at his shoulders to stay upright.

Elijah could feel you tremble and shake beneath him as waves of ecstasy washed over you. He chuckled softly, slowly withdrawing his fingers from your cunt. He slid the digits into your mouth, making you gag as they touched the back of your throat. You could taste the tang of your juices on them.

Elijah removed his fingers and you inhaled deeply, swallowing hard to clear the tickling in your throat.

"So beautiful when you come undone," he muttered, bringing you even closer, crushing you into his body. "I've missed hearing my name tumble from those sinful lips of yours."

You felt the blush creep into your cheeks and you buried your head into his neck.

"Elijah, this isn't us getting back together," you breathed into him. "This is sex," you clarified, even as your heart tightened in your chest. "Can you live with that?"

You could feel his smile on his lips.

"Can you?" he shot back.

His hand was resting on the curve of your bottom and he suddenly gripped it, his nails digging into your flesh. His fangs grazed the sensitive skin of your neck before sinking into your vein, and the sting was the best type of pleasure.

A small cry escaped your lips. With each pull of blood he was drinking more, sucking deeper, making it harder to breathe. You grabbed his biceps, clinging to him, the mix of intense pleasure and pain muddling your thoughts.

Your eyes fluttered closed as he finished drinking his fill and began licking the wound, a gentle groan escaping his lips.

"You've been mine for eight hundred years, do you think I would just give you up so easily?" He whispered, his breath tickling your neck. "If all we have to settle for is sex, then I will take it."

He lifted up his arm and offered you his wrist, without a second thought you sank your fangs into him, a rich taste filling your mouth. You drank deeply from his veins, and he held you close, watching your eyes darken and veins ripple around them.

He smiled and pushed your hair behind your ears, running his thumbs over your cheekbones. You wanted him badly, and as your gaze focused on him, a thrill went through your body. His hair was disheveled, his lips slick with the remnants of your blood, his eyes dark with arousal. He looked dangerous and sexy and so incredibly delicious. You needed more of him.

He set you down, letting your feet touch the floor, his hand tangled in your hair. Your gaze dropped to the erection straining against his tailored slacks. You knew exactly what he wanted you to do, but even when he was this worked up, he would never ask, always the gentleman.

You didn't want the gentleman though, it reminded you too much of the love the two of you once shared. No, tonight you wanted the possessive, rough, jealous vampire. The one he hid behind his red door and only let you see. You liked when he was ruthless.

You sank to your knees before him and he loosened his hold on your hair. With one hand, you grabbed his hip, while your other hand deftly unbuttoned his slacks. As you lowered the zipper, your breath brushed over the straining silk boxers, and you could hear him let out a soft growl.

You paused before freeing his cock, leaning in, placing a light kiss on the hard fabric and felt his muscles go tight. You were going to tease him, never quite giving him what he wanted, until he took charge. You needed that rough touch, the kind that could shatter the windows and break bones. The kind of touch you secretly longed for.

You pulled his boxer briefs down just a little, running the pad of your thumb down the underside of his length, before blowing cool air over him and making him twitch. Keeping your eyes on him, you leaned forward again, this time letting your tongue lick across the tip, cleaning his pre-cum from it.

His hands were in your hair, more forcefully now. You continued the teasing, until his grip was painfully tight, you could see the gentleman leaving him. It excited you more than you ever wanted to admit, even to yourself. You knew it wouldn't be much longer before he was ruining you.

Taking his thick girth into your hand, you moved your tongue to swirl around the tip. This time his response was not so reserved, a low, deep sound emitting from his chest.

You sucked lightly on the head, hollowing your cheeks and slowly stroking him in time with your movements. You purposefully kept him from feeling the full effect of your mouth. He was losing the battle over his restraint.

One of his hands cupped your chin, making you look up at him. There was a wild look in his eyes, his breathing ragged. He was trying not to let you push him, he wanted to have slow, passionate sex, make you want to come home and be with him again.

But tonight was not the night for that.

You fought your gaze, fluttering your lashes at him coyly. You saw it on his face, a war being waged. Only you could do this to him, undo his defenses, strip him bare.

"You wish to be treated like a whore," he said quietly, his words sounding almost bitter, though his voice had a strange timbre to it, a hint of excitement.

You tried to nod, your mouth still full of his cock, and his grip on your hair tightened, keeping you in place. He sighed, his thumb brushing along your cheekbone, an odd tenderness.

"Whatever my love wants," he murmured, sounding as if it hurt to say those words. He shoved himself deeper, not stopping when you started to cough, drool slipping down the corners of your mouth. He was so big, his size always overwhelmed you and made tears prickle your eyes.

You worked to breathe, knowing he was not going to be gentle this time. One of his hands left you and pressed into the wall, anchoring himself as he started to fuck your face with a bruising pace.

"Is this how you want to be treated? Letting me fuck your throat raw," Elijah hissed, his cock hitting the back of your throat and you gagged, saliva spilling over and down your chin. "I guess I don't have to hear your snide remarks now, do I?"

You didn't know what you expected, but this was exactly what you had been hoping for. He pulled on your hair hard, pressed your face into his hip, the hairs there making you twitch and your nostrils burn. Your hands gripped his thighs, trying to push him back as you struggled to breathe. You could only make rasping noises, your eyes tearing up, droplets pooling before they spilled.

He pulled you off, allowing you to breathe. Your chest was heaving, a long string of saliva hanging between his cock and your mouth. You kept his eye contact, your lips swollen and slick.

"Good," he murmured. "I'm glad you can finally understand that no other man will ever own you the way I do."

"You don't own me," you rasped out and the fire in his gaze burned.

The words were barely out of your mouth when he threw you onto the bed, the force making your head spin. He tore at the top of your dress, sending bits of fabric flying everywhere. You lay there panting, his eyes hungrily devouring every inch of your half naked form.

"Spread your legs," he commanded, not moving towards the bed, watching intently, waiting for you to comply.

"No," you responded, holding his stare, defiance flashing in your eyes.

His shirt was missing several buttons now, torn open to reveal the toned planes of his stomach and chest. In an instant he was on the bed, his hands grabbing your hips and pulling you underneath him. A slight grin playing on his lips.

"Do you think I don't see what game you are playing? If you want the monster, you've got him, darling," he whispered before capturing your mouth in a rough kiss.

His hands reached up, taking the cups of your bra down. When his fingers closed over your breasts, squeezing the soft flesh roughly, you couldn't contain your gasping cry, his thumbs pinching your nipples painfully.

"Tell me, did your little date fuck you like I do?" He growled against your chest.

You whimpered, twisting in his grasp, but his strength was no match for you, you could already see it in the flexing of his muscles. He bit down hard on your nipple, the shock of pain making you choke. His mouth was soft and warm, his tongue swiping over the hardened peak soothingly, but his teeth held on tightly, biting at your sensitive skin.

"Answer me," Elijah demanded, raising his head to lock his gaze with yours.

"E-e-e-e," you stammered, struggling to speak as his hands moved to your hair, roughly twisting the strands together and pulling, tugging your head back.

"E-e-e-e?" He mocked, kissing a trail over the curve of your jaw, ending at your lips, teasing the flesh with his teeth.

"Fuck you," you breathed, anger spiking through the lust clouding your mind.

He flipped you over abruptly, slapping your ass. You struggled to get away, but his hands were pressed into your back, not allowing you to move.

"Did he," another smack landed on your bare skin and the stinging ache made you gasp.

"Fuck you?" Two more blows, this time to your opposite cheek and you clenched the bed sheets tightly.

He pushed your panties down, grabbing your hips and tilting your bottom towards him, spreading your legs, revealing your wet core. You moaned, the need growing and making your toes curl, desperate to be taken.

"Hmm," he mused, tracing his thumb down the seam of your pussy. You moaned into the covers, your head burrowed between your arms, your hands making fists in the sheet. He parted your swollen lower lips and let out a shaky breath when your arousal coated the pads of his digits. He moves his thumb to your ass, teasing your opening and you feel more heat spreading across your cheeks as you squirm in protest, whimpering.

He chucked, slapping your left butt cheek playfully. "You've no right to blush," he mused, leaning down and running the tip of his tongue along the crack, before blowing a small puff of cool air on you and the tickling sensation sent shivers down your spine.

"I bet he couldn't satisfy you the way I do. Even as he tried ...you were thinking of me."

You froze, caught off guard, and then your teeth were clenched and you tried to break from his grasp again. He was being such a damn cocky asshole, always believing himself superior. Your pride bristled under his comments, anger starting to well within. You began to protest and fight when suddenly he pressed his thumb against your puckered entrance, the digit sinking into the knuckle, making you mewl into the mattress.

"Don't..." your voice trailed off, losing your thoughts as your hips rocked trying to grind yourself against his hand.

"I will use you however I see fit," he said with a chuckle, biting into the flesh of your ass. "Don't pretend you don't like the depravity."

His words were spoken so low, so ragged. It was like his entire demeanor had changed, the door cracked open and the monster was breaking through. He roughly spread the globe of your ass with his free hand, and ran his tongue along the seam of your hole before flicking his tongue against the pucker. He continued teasing your rim, making it even more slippery with his spit and you relaxed into his touch.

He lined the tip of his cock with your ass, pressing lightly against it and your nails raked across the sheets, gasping as he moved slightly inside. You arched and wiggled your butt trying to move, make him work for this, even though your body craved everything he offered. He grabbed your wrists and forced your arms above your head, holding them there. You heard his heavy breathing as he thrust his hips forward, his cock sliding past the ring of muscles and sinking into your depths.

Your face was pressed into the pillow, and you couldn't contain the lewd groaning escaping from your lips when he sunk his cock into your ass and stretched you.

"Too much...ahhh," you mewled, turning your head to take a large gulp of air, the feeling was too much as he slowly rocked into your body. You could barely catch your breath. He wasn't even fully inside.

"no, don't, too much; none of those sound like our safe word," Elijah taunted, his lips hovering over your ear, his words coming out in short panted breaths. He pulled out before plunging deeper, you could hear him sucking in air through his gritted teeth, struggling to hold back and enjoy the torturous pace.

The sweet ache of having him there, the burn as your body struggled to adjust, made your head swim. You felt light headed, overwhelmed. He chuckled and began rocking slowly, the soft roll of his hips letting you feel every inch. His strokes were leisurely, no rushing, drawing out the torment. His fingertips traced down your spine, his palm rubbing a slow circle on your back, soothing the tension.

"Such a good girl," he purred, "taking everything I have to give you."

The pace of his strokes increased, becoming hard and relentless, shoving you into the bed. You bit down into the mattress trying to stifle your sounds as the mix of pleasure and pain became so intense you could only scream.

Suddenly, his hands were in your hair again. He tugged you back harshly, pulling you upright, your back now flush with his front, his cock pistoning into your ass so hard your teeth nearly rattled.

"Let them hear," Elijah whispered into your ear. "Tell everyone here who fucks you best."

His name tumbled out of your lips over and over as the pressure built, tears rolling down your cheeks. You were babbling his name, half sentences, moans, a bunch of nonsense. He was forcing another orgasm to the surface.

Just before you tumbled over the edge, he bit down into your neck and everything turned bright white and sparks flared behind your eyelids. When he stopped drinking your blood, he pushed you back down and pulled out.

You lay there trying to catch your breath before he sat you up, scooting you closer to the edge of the bed, draping your legs over his shoulders. His cock was in your pussy before you could even inhale and then you were screaming his name again.

"Good girl," he groaned, as his hands gripped your hips, bruises blossoming in the dips of your flesh. He didn't slow this time, instead, he shoved the both of you backwards and fucked you into the bed. "Is this what you wanted? Hard, messy, raw." He lifted you and placed you on his lap.

Your head fell into the crook of his neck, too far gone to keep yourself up. His hands were on your ass, lifting you up and down. You clung to him, your fingers tangled in his hair, overwhelmed by the feeling of him using you, taking everything you had. He felt too good, even like this. He knew your body better than you did.

His hand hit your ass, a loud cracking noise filling the room.

"Don't go limp," he snarled, wrapping your hair around his fist and twisting, wrenching your head back and up so that your eyes were forced to meet his. His face was so close, your breath mixed with his.

Your breathing was rapid and shallow, your chest rising and falling. He took one of his hands and intertwined your fingers together, holding you closer. There were no words exchanged, but the intimacy of the gesture made you start to cry. It was too sweet. You tried to squirm out of his grasp and escape this sudden, unbidden vulnerability that seemed to be taking over, but he tightened his hold, moving your hips slowly on his lap. The man was insatiable.

"Don't run from it," he whispered, his lips capturing yours, kissing you with such gentleness, you ached. This was supposed to be rougher, you shouldn't have fallen apart like this, given in, surrendered yourself to this part of him. But now...you couldn't bring yourself to turn away.

A wave of ecstasy was washing over you, the kind of blissful peace you had never felt anywhere but here, wrapped in Elijah's arms, him buried deep in your core, the two of you close, lost in the heat of a passion and connection.

"I want you here with me," his mouth hovered near yours, his hips working harder and harder. "You are my home," his words made your heart squeeze tight and tears leaked from the corners of your eyes. It had been a very long time since he had said such tender words to you. But it was the most desperate pleas, the broken whines that followed that you couldn't ignore.

Your arms closed around him, clinging to him. As if he were your anchor in this chaos. Your mind swam, the lines blurring. This moment was just the two of you, lost in the sensations. A single moment in the midst of the madness. He held onto you tightly, whispering words of praise and affection. The tension built until it snapped, leaving the both of you spent and exhausted.

His mouth was on yours again, swallowing your gasps as you both came down. You lay there for a few moments, your eyes closed, the sound of your hearts pounding loudly in the quiet. You couldn't remember the last time sex was this good. You felt so content and boneless.

You were so lost in the haze of afterglow, it wasn't until Elijah was helping you into a bath that you realized how much time had passed. The warm water lapped against your skin as he settled you onto his lap, his hand trailing up and down your arm. You rested your head against his shoulder, enjoying the peaceful quiet, his warmth surrounding you, his scent, the feel of his bare skin under your fingertips, the brush of his chest hair.

You weren't sure what to say, didn't know how to break the silence. It was like the past few months had not existed. But the pain, the agony, the heartache were fresh. You weren't sure if you were ready to forgive him yet, but it was a step in the right direction.

"Will you stay?" Elijah asked, breaking the silence. His hand paused, fingers splayed on your thigh. He shifted you, turning you so you were facing him. His face was solemn, his brow furrowed and eyes serious. He brought his hand up, cupping your face, his thumb brushing across your cheekbone. He waited patiently for an answer. His expression hopeful, but guarded. The question was simple enough, but it meant so much more.

"I will stay," you whispered, leaning into his touch. You couldn't deny it, he was a part of you, you would always love him. No matter how much you hated him at times, there was no life without him. He was your home. It would take time to rebuild the trust between the two of you, but you had to believe it was possible.

A soft smile tugged at the corner of his lips and his eyes glistened with unshed tears. His head dipped forward, his forehead pressed against yours, the two of you breathing each other's air.

"Good, because I would have done a lot of things I am not proud of, to get you back," Elijah whispered, his thumb swiping along your bottom lip.

Your brow shot up, and a playful smile crossed your face, "What kind of things?" You teased.

Elijah let out a sigh and pulled you closer, "Kidnap, murder, perhaps a bit of torture." His mouth brushed over yours, a quick chaste kiss.

You giggled, wrapping your arms around his neck, "Sounds healthy," you quipped.

"It was, I assure you." He replied, his lips brushing against yours. His tongue slid into your mouth, a deep, languid kiss, a slow exploration of every inch. He pulled back, his eyes boring into yours, the heat and intensity making your stomach flutter. "What is love, if not madness." He finished, his mouth crashing down on yours again.

You didn't have a response, all the air was sucked from your lungs and the ability to speak vanished. Instead, you simply kissed him, hoping he understood. That the two of you were a beautiful mess of chaos, but it worked. It was real. This was love.

♡♡ Tag-List ♡♡

♡ @gorgeouslydangerous ♡ @starkleila ♡ @lydia1369sworld ♡ @notleylaaa ♡ @vampiresluv ♡ @vamprium ♡ @myanmy ♡ @xflowerbombxo ♡ @maryvibess ♡ @always-and-forever-daydreaming ♡ @criminallminds ♡ @theesexystallion ♡ @rosemarypotion ♡ @spnaquakindgdom ♡ @amournoir ♡ @loving-and-dreaming ♡

♡ @meeom ♡ @damienmorton ♡ @wickedmuse ♡ @sunkissedebony97 ♡ @idk00sblog ♡ @savannaounana ♡ @cs-please ♡ complicatedandconfusing-25 @hamiltimes ♡ @akala6670229 ♡ @yeaiamme2 ♡ @itsjulzandmydiamonds ♡ @spideysbabe ♡ @witch-of-letters ♡ @elijahmikaelsonsboy ♡ @rosecentury ♡

#elijah mikaelson #the originals #the vampire diaries #vampire diaries #tvdu #elijah mikaelson smut #elijah mikaelson imagine #elijah mikealson imagine #elijah mikealson #elijah mikaelson x reader #elijah mikealson x reader #tvd #the vampire diaries x you #the vampire diaries x reader #the vampire diares imagine #the vampire diaries imagine #the originals imagine

269 notes · View notes

talaok · 1 year

Note

Hi! No pressure at all but can you write some smut for Tyler Galphin please?

You're an awesome writer I absolutely loved your A Small Bed fic 😄

Pairing:Tyler Galpin x Fem!reader

summary: after you got arrested for having kidnapped Tyler and then released, he comes to visit you in your room, and well, all that anger has to end up somewhere...

warnings: SMUT(unprotected -angry-sex)

A/n: so here’s the thing I hated him the whole time except for the last episode. So I wrote about that.(sorry this took so long)

"The monster fucks well sweetheart"

“What does it feel like?” “What does what feel like?” “To lose” Your mouth gaped open and you felt your eyes fill with tears. You were right. You knew you had been right but hearing it felt diffrent. Seeing with your own two eyes all the liveliness in his pupils disappear was diffrent. You felt your heart slow down, like even he couldn’t believe what was going on. You had known. You know you had known. You had had the vision and then you had connected the dots. You knew you were right, as heartbreaking as it felt you knew he was the hyde, he had killed all those people, but a small part of you apparently still hoped that inside that monster, inside that creature who massacred so many innocent people there was still a good part, still Tyler. But you were wrong. There was no Tyler, only the hyde remained in the now empty body in front of you. Only the monster. He took a step towards you and you took a step back instinctively. "What, are you scared of me?" his mouth twitched into a sinister grin. Your breathing was getting labored, but you couldn't let him see it. Ordering your chest to expand at a normal velocity. "because of the things I did?" he took another step. This time you didn't move. You weren't scared. He wasn't scary. He was never gonna hurt you. Not now, not when he knew he had won. He wanted you to suffer. "because of the people I killed?" he tilted his head to the side, taking another step. The room felt empty, like he was annihilating every other object, killing them just like he had killed all those people. It was yours before. It was you. It was your room, where you had gone to after running out of the police station, just after you had been arrested for having kidnapped him. And then you had opened the door, and he had entered and it wasn't yours anymore. It was nothing. it was fear and delusion mixed with sorrow, but definitely, not the room you had slept in, laughed in and cried in for the past 2 months. He was in front of you. Lurking over you like the predator he actually was. "because of who I am ?" he raised his eyebrow You looked up at him, anger so extremely clear on your face that you wondered how he looked so incredibly unfazed by it. You could feel all your organs compressing, the rage for being beaten, the rage for being humiliated, and for having lost crushing your every bone. You wanted to punch him more than you wanted to breathe. "I'm not scared of you Tyler" you said "I'll never be" you hissed "you're nothing but a pet" you stepped closer to him this time " a very obedient pet who does anything their master wants" you chuckled "If anything, I pity you. You're pathetic" Not a single emotion trespassed him. Like he had heard nothing of what you had just said "y/n" he bent down to whisper in your ear "as much as I like seeing that pretty mouth of yours lie " he scoffed " we both know that's not true" his breath was so hot against your ear and throat, it was difficult to concentrate "You are scared of me" his fingers traced along your arm "scared of what I can do" you felt him smile "scared of who I am" his fingers hooked under your chin, bringing your eyes to his "you are scared of me y/n" You swallowed what felt like the densest piece of saliva you'd ever encountered. "and you should be" "You'd never hurt me" you spat out "you want to see me suffer" a sparkle ignited in his eyes, finally somewhat alive "you don't want to kill me" you said finally "you can't" "oh" he laughed bitterly "now, we both know that's not true" he said "but I appreciate you trying" a grin appeared on his lips "you're cute when you lie" "fuck you" you whispered "I'm not lying" his fingers under your chin traced your jawline. "aw" he cooed "you're angry" yeah, no shit sherlock "but I think you're looking at it the wrong way" "Oh am I now?" you gritted incredulously "because to me it seemed like being completely humiliated to the point everyone thinks I'm batshit crazy while I know I'm right and you are still free is a good enough reason to be angry" He smiled as he shook his head "but see" his thumb stroked your cheek and you pretended it didn't still make you melt"I think you're relieved it went this way" you scoffed, "Why? why on earth would I be?" His other hand found its way to your waist "because if I did go to jail" he inhaled "you wouldn't have been able to see me for a long time" he laughed "and we both know how you wouldn't want that" Fuck his hand on you felt like fire, even after all this time. Even after you discovered what he was. It was awful, you knew, but there wasn't anything you could do about it, anything other than pretending, other than faking your uncaringness. "Yeah right" you scoffed again "so you are saying you wouldn't have missed my mouth so close to yours?" he said, leaning closer to you" my hands on you?" he paused as his hand caressed your side" missed me inside of you?" now it was your turn to pause, You had no idea what to say. There was a part of you that knew, with an angry, hateful certainty that he was right, but there was also a side that was fighting, fighting to make common sense prevail, to make it win somehow in this earthquake of chaos. you didn't have enough brain capacity to respond at the moment. the only thing that got out of you was a shy exhale. He smirked "you know I'm right" he forced you to look up at him again with his fingers. No. You were not gonna let him win so easily. "You're not" you said, hoping to sound more sincere than you actually were. He laughed "so stubborn" he said with amusement "and yet so painfully wrong" He smiled as he bent down, pressing his lips on yours, his mouth feeling so soft while being so harsh on yours. He was right and he was determined to prove it. You damned yourself as you closed your eyes, inevitably parting your lips for his tongue. The hand on your side traveled to your back, forcing you ever so close to him. "so you wouldn't have missed that?" he leaned away way too soon. God, you hated him. Him and his stupid smugness and his stupid talented mouth. "no, I wouldn't have" you lied He smiled proudly, like he wanted you to say that, like he was just waiting for a challenge and you had just presented him with the best possible one. "Is that so?" "hm-hm" you agreed "so when I kiss you you don't feel anything?" "Exactly" "And when I touch you?" his hand went to the hem of your skirt, hooking his finger in it "nothing" you gulped "not even when I can feel how wet you are?" he asked, as his fingers cupped your clothed cunt. "no" you murmured He tsked "and what about when I move your panties aside?" he murmured against your lips while he did just that. "I-" you tried, but the words were stuck in your throat "still nothing huh? I'm gonna have to try harder it seems" he said as he passed his index between your folds, coating himself of your wetness before moving his attention to your clit. You bit your lip so as not to moan as he circled it. You didn't want to give him that, the satisfaction of knowing how good he was making you feel. he kept massaging your clit and you kept biting your own skin, seconds away from tasting blood. "still nothing?" he raised an eyebrow and you were gonna punch him if it wasn't for your knees feeling so weak. You shook your head as heavy breaths escaped your mouth. He chuckled "I thought you might say that" He retracted his hand, making you whimper at the loss of contact. "but you know" he stroked your lip with his thumb "there's one thing I have tried" he looked at you "and I have a feeling it might change your mind" You smiled “you think?” He laughed hoarsely “I do” he said taking a step, your back hitting the cold wall “And what makes you so sure?” “It has worked before” he moved his hands underneath your skirt, one on each side of you, feeling the fabric of your useless panties “And it’s only right to give it a shot, don’t you think?” “If you believe so” you murmured” but just so you know, I severely doubt you’re right” “We’ll see” his fingers gripped your underwear, pulling them down enough for them to fall at your feet "I have a feeling you might change your mind" he said, his hot breath against your cheek as you heard the zipper of his jeans being unzipped. He pulled them down just enough to get his dick out, his big stupid dick that had made you come times and times before. You swallowed nervously as you looked down, and he noticed, grinning. " changed your mind yet sweetheart?" "nope" your voice was pathetically trembling "and don't call me sweetheart" "Oh but why?" he asked as if he was actually hurt. he raised one of your legs to his waist "you seemed to like it not so long ago" he kissed you briefly "Actually" he let go of your leg "you loved it" "yeah well that was before" you said coldly. He hummed, contemplating perhaps "jump" he said, and you complied. Completely and utterly conscious of making a mistake, a really hot and stupid mistake. You were trapped between him and the wall, your legs wrapped around his waist and your arms around his neck. his eyes were burning through you and his cock was just against your clit. "you mean before you found out who I was?" one of his hands left your waist to position his dick at your entrance "who I am?" Really, he wanted to do this now? You didn't answer, you just scowled at him. "tell me" he said "or I'm not gonna do it" Fucking asshole "Yes Tyler. yes" you huffed "see, that was easy wasn't it?" he said smugly as he finally pushed his tip in. You sank down on him, as he stretched you out perfectly, little shocks of pleasure coursing through you with every inch added, until he bottomed out. "fuck" you sighed "Yeah," he pulled almost completely out just to thrust harshly inside of you, a gasp fled your mouth "The monster fucks well sweetheart" he said, as he did it again, this time not stopping, but developing a deadly rhythm. You tried to stop yourself, you really did, but you couldn't do anything to control the shameless, pathetic moans emerging from your throat and filling the empty room. "tell me again" he kept going "tell me that you don't miss me" he laughed through labored breaths, "tell me you don't miss this". "tell me sweetheart " he was hitting every single spot, you forced your eyes shut as he pushed into you again, even harder somehow "tell me I'm a monster, go on" he murmured against your ear "tell me how much you hate me" It was a weird feeling, being so turned on by someone while simultaneously hating them so deeply, so fondly that you kind of wished they would just drop dead right now. And what was even weirder, was having that same person, the one you wished dead, inside of you, splitting you in half so fucking well. "f-fuck you" you managed to get out. He smiled against your mouth before kissing it. It was a mess, a wet and moan-y mess, symbolizing your defeat and his triumph over you. there was no point in fighting him, he was gonna win, that's what he meant, that's what the kiss meant. "Feisty as ever" he smiled cockily "but a bit too smug for someone whose pussy I'm fully inside of right now" He said, not even letting you catch your breath before he brought his hand to your clit. "J-just shut up" you said exasperated "Oh no sweetheart" he circled your clit "you shut up" he kissed your cheek "I won" he kissed your jawline "I beat you Y/n" now your neck, never stopping his thrusts or fingers either "I get to talk" now the skin just below your ear "I get to say everything I want" he looked at you now "you on the other hand" he chuckled "well you can't" "Because you lost" there was such a tight knot in your belly that you felt like you were gonna explode, and as much as you wanted to tell him to fuck off, or that he was a crazy bastard, that stupid feeling distracted you, and only a series of high-peached groans lest your mouth, as you got closer and closer to your much-earned relief. "what you can't even talk?" he said, as his cock was wrapped tightly around your walls "You can't even answer me?" he defied you "can't even tell me how much I disgust you huh?" his fingers kept moving fast "If I had known this was all it took to shut you up, I would have done it a long time ago" There was sweat on his forehead and his eyes were cruising all over your face, examing and without a doubt enjoying every single expression, every single muscle contorting as he was fucking you hard. "You're coming" he breathed out, feeling your walls clenching around him "god you feel so fucking good when you squeeze me sweetheart" he mumbled, his thrusts getting sloppier "Come y/n, just give up baby" he groaned "You already fucking lost anyway". A fire exploded inside you, spreading through your whole body, you shouted his name and then other profanities as your body convulsed from the pleasure, abandoning yourself completely to the feeling, and then you felt him come too, his hot cum filling you up deeply. You both caught your breath silently as he put you down on the floor. Your legs weren't all that ready as they stumbled beneath your weight. " Well, shit" you exhaled, looking up at him in disbelief as he grinned "I still hate you you know?" "Oh, I know" he smiled " trust me I know"

#tyler galpin #tyler galpin smut #tyler galpin x reader #tyler galpin x y/n #tyler galpin wednesday #Wednesday #Smut #angry sex #tyler galpin fanfiction #tyler galpin fic #tyler galpin fanfic #netflix #tyler galpin x fem!reader #tyler galpin x you

2K notes · View notes

saddestsquid · 9 days

Text

First Miguel fic + 250+ follower special ୨୧

I’d like to start off by saying THANK YOU SO SO MUCH FOR ALMOST 300 FOLLOWERS !! And 2000+ notes?!? omg. I checked my inbox a few times and saw 99+ notifs every time, and when I tell you I SCREAMED. As a new writer I can’t thank you enough for all the notes and sweet comments ! I’m so grateful, so take this fic as a thank you <33

Warnings: Miguel is hinted to have slept with socks on which….is a trigger on its own apparently 😥, potentially botched ass Spanish……(no Google translate was used tho, my French teacher taught me better than that), p in v, making out, grinding, slight blood, reader has no chill nor filter but Miguels lowkey into it, degradation, bondage, banter, oral, praise, etc.

a/n: Takes place before the whole Miles incident !! I love Miguel but I can’t forgive him for doing that to my son 🤨🤨 This could also be imagined as König, since they’re both huge stubborn men <33

Pairing: Female reader x Miguel O’Hara

Summary: Miguel is pent up and needs a release. Lucky for him, there’s a certain spider woman who’d do anything for him <3

Words: 4141 (DAMN I shocked myself w this)

. . .

Miguel runs his hand through his hair, grumbling when he feels it’s getting to a length that needs cutting again. Just another thing to add to his pile of responsibilities.

He pushes the fumbled blanket off to the side and lazily palms at his morning wood, finding the ministrations do little to help his raging hard-on. He’s shocked, mainly that he could still get one with how tense he’s been lately, but mostly that he’s actually annoyed that he has to jerk off. It feels like a chore to him now…though taking care of himself in any sense has since he became Spider-Man.

With a sleepy groan he drags himself up and to the bathroom. His mismatched socks are soft against the cool bathroom tiles where he turns on the shower. His muscles stretch when he tugs his white sweater over his head and tosses it onto the ground nearby, abs tensing and shoulders refusing to relax no matter how much stretching he did.

When the rest of his clothing join the heap on the floor he steps into the freezing cold shower, twitching at the icy droplets that felt like tiny icicles poking into his taut skin.

He hoped the temperature would make the nuisance go down, but it raged on, standing proud at its full height. Miguel never thought he’d find himself glaring at his own dick, but here he was, horny and heavily pissed off.

He reached down and tugged at his cock, rubbing his thumb over the angry red tip. He jerked profusely, yet all it did was leave him feeling unsatisfied and humiliated.

“Fuck.” He cursed, washing his hand off before aggressively turning the knob to stop the flowing water. He tried to remember what he had to do today while pacing the bathroom, but he couldn’t focus with his erection clouding his thoughts. Maybe if the blood would stay in his head…

He was an attractive guy, he knew that much. It would be easy to go out into the town and hook up with some stranger, but not so much so when he was in this constant sour mood. That sullen energy & resting bitch face paired with his looming height would scare any woman away.

Any sane woman.

You tied up the last of the criminals in your silky webs, smiling in victory. Unfortunately, the joy wasn’t long-lasting since as soon as you got home you felt boredom creeping up on you once again.

For weeks you’d been entertained by the intimidating founder of the spider society; Miguel O’Hara.You’d been bugging him for days on end, literally drooling at his feet and begging him to come back to your place.

He kicked you out multiple times, but like a cockroach you couldn’t be squashed—and neither could your need for him. You just couldn’t take a hint apparently. When he picked you up by the back of your suit and threw you back into your universe, all you focused on was how easily he carried you with just one of his big, veiny hands.

The way that suit hugged his defined chest so well, and his massive arms where you could see every vein…plus that prominent bulge? You were sunk.

He’d finally run out of patience for you when you ‘accidentally’ messed with the tech for his suit, almost making him go full commando in front of everyone in the spider society.(wouldn’t be the last time that happened…) He banned you for good, taking away your ‘multiversal gizmo’ without a second thought.

Your last words being ‘worth it!’ as you were flung back into your universe by the go-home-machine seemed like the icing on the cake to him despising you forever, but apparently that wasn’t the case because the man himself just appeared in your living room.

“Y/N.” He addressed nonchalantly.

You stared at him, jaw agape for a few moments before pinching yourself to see if you were dreaming. You had to be, he basically filed a restraining order against you. A really complicated, multiversal restraining order. Why would he ever voluntarily come to you?

You couldn’t even respond since your throat felt so dry .. . It seemed your body had other ideas of where to soak.

“Why are you so obbsesed with me?” He suddenly asked, paying no mind to your awkward silence.

“uhm-“

“I mean, you chased me around every day, eyed me down so intensively it was basically public sex and yet here you are, alone with me like you wanted, and now you’re speechless?” He stalked around your living room, circling you like a bird of prey.

You blushed up a storm and stood frozen in front of him, trying to discretely rub your thighs together.

He eyed you down, noticing your obvious ministrations but only chuckling. “Sometimes I had wished you were an actual spider so I could crush you under the soles of my shoes, but lately I’ve found myself feeling as horny and desperate as you.” He admitted with a smirk that revealed his sharpened fangs.

That confession had your mind reeling to the point all you could muster up was; “I would’ve let you step on me regardless.”

His smirk grew and he started to approach you until his shadow covered you completely. You had to tilt your whole head up to look him in his glowing red eyes now—but you couldn’t handle making the eye contact anyway.

“You are just a small little thing, yet I didn’t expect you to be all bark no bite. All those filthy things you said lingered in my mind..don’t you want to take care of what you started?” He asked in a deliciously low voice. The almost mocking manner he said it in made you feel called out, and you looked down at your hands and picked at your nails to try and calm yourself.

A clawed finger tilted your head up by the chin and forced you to look into his eyes. How could you forget—in all your time spent basically stalking him you noticed how he never broke eye contact with anyone that he was speaking to. It was both exhilarating and intimidating to see, and you felt that full force while finally being on the receiving end of it. “Look at me when I’m speaking to you, arañita.” He ordered, and it sent tingles shooting up your spine.

You swore you heard your neck crack from how fast you looked up at him. He looked predatory staring down at you like that, eyes gleaming in the sunlight. “So? Will you finish what you started muñeca?” He asked, as if it was even a question to you.

“Fuck yes.” You agreed without missing a beat, making him chuckle darkly. “Needy thing.”

Before your mind could catch up you were suddenly being lifted by him and thrown on his shoulder with ease. He walked through the halls of your cozy apartment and waltzed into your bedroom without even searching for it, carelessly throwing you onto the bed.

You landed with a bounce on the soft comforter, feeling even smaller now with him standing above you. “Wha- how do you know where my bedroom is?” You asked when your brain finally decided to have a rational thought.

“I’ve done my research—wanted to make sure you weren’t a spy. It was a waste of time, really, you’re just a horny stalker.” He shrugged.

You stared at him with an offended expression (tho it was 100% true) and went to argue until your lips were suddenly sealed by sticky red webs.

“On your back.” He ordered.

You crossed your arms at him first until he repeated the command in a low, dangerous voice. “Now.” Any defiance you had pretended to have quickly left your body and you laid down flat on the silk sheets.

He stalked over to you, all big and menacing as always. He leaned over you and forced your wrists together, twirling more glowing silk around them until they were bound above your head.

He smirked down at you, leaning in to pepper kisses all over your neck. He sucked dark hickeys onto the sensitive skin of your throat, enjoying your muffled moans. While before he found your voice excruciating—he was now desperate to hear it crying out his name.

He stripped the webs off your mouth and you whined at the pain. The feeling resembled a bandaid being ripped off a fresh cut. He cooed pitifully above you and leaned in, whispering “Pobre araña, why don’t I kiss it better?”

You nodded desperately until his lips met yours with a slight sting. He growled into your mouth, swirling his tongue around yours and exploring your mouth until you were squirming. He nibbled on your bottom lip, sharp canines threatening to break the skin. He pushed his muscled thigh between your legs and pressed down on your clit with his knee, the pressure making you moan under him. Your sweet sounds drove him wild, and he couldn’t help but bite down lightly on your lip until tiny droplets of blood dripped onto his tongue.

He groaned at the taste, his animalistic split-DNA going wild. When he pulled back—lips reddened, hair tussled and fallen slightly in front of his face— you couldn’t help but stare. His face looked so much more chiseled up close, cheekbones perfectly defined and a jawline sharper than the claws currently resting on your hips.

His toned chest rose up and down steadily while he regained his breath, the familiar spider symbol on his suit growing bigger then smaller with each rise of his lungs like it was breathing.

“Let’s take care of these, Cariño.” He addressed your clothing as if it were nothing but a nuisance for him before slicing your shirt right off you. He did this with ease, big claws moving onto your bottoms and clawing those off as well.

“Hey! Those were nice.” You pouted, though apparently he didn’t appreciate that comment because you were now being tied up even worse than before. Webs spewed from his wrist and circled your body like serpents, tying around your waist, arms, and thighs. “Don’t be a brat.” He ordered, webs tightening in warning. Once satisfied, he admired the way they looked pulled taut against your soft skin. “Red looks lovely on you, amor.” He praised, a quick switch from his previous comment.

He lifted you and reached behind your back, unclasping your bra with one hand. He threw it onto the ground somewhere with your torn up clothes, focusing his attention on your soft tits.

He hummed in content, playing with your nipples and letting his webs circle around the soft flesh of your breasts. He licked and sucked at one while tugging on the other, making you moan and squirm under him.

“Fuck Miguel- ah! more!” You whined desperately, coaxing a chuckle out of the behemoth.

“Such a desperate slut.” He tutted, sucking marks all over your chest to match your throat. He kissed over the already forming hickeys, grazing his teeth dangerously close to your jugular. This man was massive, and made of pure muscle like a Greek god. He could easily hold you down without the help of his webs, but he wanted to focus full attention on you.

He finally moved down to where you needed him most, going to rip your panties straight off you before you rudely slammed your thighs shut. “You take off your suit first….” You whined, embarrassed at being nearly completely nude before him while he was still covered. He was genuinely offended by this, feeling like he’d just had a door slammed on his face, yet he grumbled and messed around with his watch until the hologram started to dissipate.

Your jaw dropped wider and wider the more you took him in. The man resembled a skillfully carved statue belonging to Olympus itself. His biceps and abs were enough to challenge even Ares himself. Your eyes trailed lower and lower, leisurely mapping him out until your eyes locked on the weapon between his legs.

His dick stood loud and proud against his toned stomach, and it was massive. The man is 6,9, you knew he’d be big, but this thing was around 9 inches and looked like it could rip you in half. You couldn’t tear your eyes away from it even if you tried—I mean—the thing was basically introducing itself to you. We’re talking hello, how are you and goodbye.

Miguel basked in your ogling, his ego swelling more than it already had since he first noticed your obsession with him.

You finally snapped out of your trance when he bent down and slipped off your soaked panties, kissing up your leg as he did so. You spread both your legs for him and he took that as an invitation to lean in and lick a stripe up your wet cunt. You jumped, not expecting him to get into it so quickly, but you definitely didn’t complain.

He prodded a finger at your hole and pushed it in slowly, holding your hips down with his free hand. He made sure to be mindful of the claws adorning his fingertips since they wouldn’t go back down thanks to his clouded mind. The thick digit went in without much resistance thanks to how wet you were, until he pushed in a second and started scissoring them.

You moaned and whimpered at the stretch, two of his thick fingers the size of nearly four of yours. He pumped them in and out quickly, the slick sounds your pretty hole made for him music to his ears. Your slick dripped down his ring and middle fingers that he was ruthlessly pumping inside you and dribbled down his veiny forearm.

He massaged your walls and pushed against them, scissoring his fingers to stretch you as much as possible. He couldn’t hit your g-spot thanks to his clawed fingertips, so he sucked at your clit to fill that extra stimulation until your head was rolling back.

Something circled your waist and you figured it was his arm until you looked back down to see more webs. You would wriggle far too much without them, and he needed his other hand to spread your folds to drag a mix of his salvia and your slick around your twitching clit. You mewled at the overwhelming stimulation, bucking onto his face while he had a full on make out sesh with your pussy.

Only when he finally sunk four fingers into you and you were basically on the brink of tears with need did he pull away. Not without blowing on your sensitive clit, of course, just to see you twitch and squirm under the unrelenting grasp of his webs.

He stood up with a playful smile, freeing you from some of the webs just to pull you to the edge of the bed. Your ass met his pelvis with a slap when he yanked you by the ankle that quickly locked around his waist. He chuckled out something in Spanish that you didn’t understand, maybe along the lines of “Qué bonita putita…”. You didn’t bother to question it when he started to grind his rock hard dick on your drooling pussy, getting him all nice and wet to push into you.

Only when he was coated completely in your essence did he listen to your pleas and finally line his fat tip up at your hole. Even with the all the stretching, your poor cunt had to stretch to accommodate the swollen red tip. His pre-cum mixed with your juices when it finally popped in after some resistance, and he groaned at the warm feeling.

“So fucking tight, your poor pussy can’t take it, hm? You were so confident when you were begging for it like a desperate whore.” He growled, degradation making you clench Impossibly tighter around his head until he had to bite back a groan.

“Please Mig, I can take it.” You begged, rutting your hips onto him and trying to coax him deeper until he swiftly grabbed your waist. His claws dug into your skin, threatening to break through. He pulled back and you immediately assumed he was going to tease you again for being desperate.

Straight away you whined out apologies, stumbling over your words and pleas until he suddenly slammed back inside you, cramming 5 of his solid inches into your hole. You screamed, tears brimming on your waterline at the stretch. Your back arched off the bed and you squirmed away from the sting until he pulled back and rutted back in again, almost as if testing the waters.

With every drag of his hips his cock slowly got deeper into you until he was bottomed out completely. His tip kissed against your cervix and you looked down, amazed and horrified to see him crammed inside you so snugly. He gave you a moment to compose yourself—preoccupied on the bulge in your lower stomach.

“My good girl, fitting around me so perfectly. That wasn’t so hard now, was it?” He teased, dick twitching at the fucked out moan you gave in response.

It definitely was hard, yet his dick was harder. You could feel every single vein and ridge pressing into you, rubbing against your gummy walls in a way that left you drooling. You suddenly understood why he’d prepped you for so long. It wasn’t just to tease you, this just was not an easy thing to take.

“Move,” you pleaded, correcting youself when he raised an eyebrow, “please.”

He hummed, palming at the fat of your hips to see the way your skin sunk under his touch. “I don’t know Cariño…do you really deserve this dick?”

You gave him your best “are you for real?” face. This man was not about to make you beg when he was the one to randomly show up in your home. You’d been begging on your knees for him for months, and now he chooses to acknowledge it?

You made it your personal mission to go against everything he’s ever ordered from you, and the grind never does stop, does it?

“Like you deserve to kiss my ass?” You jest without hesitation.

You can see the way his whole face stretches; clearly dumbfounded at your response before he’s able to compose himself. With your cunt wrapped around him so tight and warm like that, it’s easy to forget the pretty spider underneath him is a little rascal.

“You were just whining a second ago, don’t try that,” He warned. “You’ve been begging for it for months, practically humping my leg in front of the entire Arachno-Humanoid-Poly-Universe.”

You groaned at his insistence on calling it that, even while balls deep inside you. “I didn’t sign up to fuck a geek,” you mutter.

“With the way you approached me I’m sure you’d fuck just about anyone, puta.”

You wanted to be insulted, but your words caught in your throat when he leaned close to you to whisper right into your ear; “Quit acting like you had any dignity in the first place and beg.”

His warm breath on your nape left you shivering. Miguel wasn’t human—not completely. With DNA mixed with a spiders, he was a predator; one ready to devour you whole.

It wasn’t a surprise to anyone really when you gradually let quiet pleas spill from your mouth. Miguel had half the mind to make you speak up, but he was loosing his thin amount of patience as is. With a satisfied click of his tongue, he pulled back until his flushed head was right at your entrance “see, was that so hard?”

You knew better than to try and answer at this point when he rammed his cock back into you. Huge hands gripped your thighs and pushed your legs into your chest while he bullied his dick further and further into your cunt.

Your pussy was embarrassingly loud for him, squelching with each brutal thrust of his hips. His muscled thighs were tense with the pure strength he put into slamming into you—beating your sensitive pussy in until it memorized his shape for life.

“Mig- ah! Holyfuck!” You screamed, draping your arms over his shoulders and scratching at his back like a cat post.

“Go on princesa, mark me up.” He encouraged and got a better grip on your thighs, pushing your legs out to a full spread. He had you displayed like a dinner feast and bent you like a lawn chair with your lower half on his toned chest. He was actually impressed at your flexibility, yet like always he chose the worst way to phrase it.

“I’m shocked, I never expected you to do any real training.”

“Fuck you.”

“That’s what you’ve been wanting, is it not?” He gloated with such a shit-eating expression that you just had to wipe off his face. He sunk deeper into you when you pulled him in for a kiss and it had you clenching around him.

His thrusts got more erratic until your mind was clouded with only the sounds of his dick disappearing into your cunt. His hands were dragging you back onto him by the hips at the same time, so you could feel him bumping against your cervix with each thrust.

You were too fucked out to say anything other than broken moans and mewls of his name, and he wasn’t too far off.

“So pretty Cariño,” he groaned, “all for me? mierda- yeah, all for me.”

A string of loud mewls along with shameless moans poured out of your bruised lips in response. He pounded your pussy with so much vigour that you edged forward on the ruffled mattress with each rough thrust.

He massaged your throbbing clit between his fingers, laughing at the way they kept slipping around from how much of your own arousal was dripping down your cunt. Heavy balls slapping against your soft skin filled your ears when you felt that coil in your stomach start to snap.

“Pussys gripping me like a fucking vice- you gonna cum for me?” he teased, “look baby- look at how well this sweet little pussys taking me.”

He took your hand and lead it down until it was tracing the prominent bump in your stomach - You could feel every brutal thrust and see the way he ravaged your insides. You pressed down on it, getting impossibly tighter around him and the broken moan he let out was what got you.

He quickly tore a mind-numbing orgasm out of you - thick cockhead still splitting you open while he worked your clit. You soaked his cock and squeezed against it, shaking and crying under him until you could barely take it anymore.

He smiled in pride, sharp fangs showing and making him resemble the waiting mouth of a shark. “Such a good fucking girl, coming all over me like that. Look at the mess you’ve made,” he hummed, observing the noticeable white ring you left around the base of his cock.

His thrusts stuttered before stilling completely inside you. He made a noise akin to an animal before spilling his hot cum inside your welcoming heat with a shudder and a broken moan.

“Mfhm- mierda.. .” He cursed, his warmth filling you up so much it started to spill out.

You felt like a rag doll under him, half-asleep and smiling dumbly up at him. He chuckled and admired one last time how pretty you looked in his glowing red webs, wrapped around you like his own custom lingerie.

He sliced them off you and smiled warmly when you raised your arms out to him. He leaned in to let you wrap your arms around his massive shoulders with your legs now wrapping around his waist.

He picked you up with you curled into him like a koala - the warm sensation of his cum dripping down your connected bodies grounding you while he walked to your bathroom.

He pressed soft kisses to your marked up-neck while he ran a warm bath, rubbing at the indents his claws subconsciously left on your hips.

You didn’t remember exactly when you fell asleep; somewhere between when his large hands washed the cum off your skin or when he gently laid you down on your fresh bedsheets.

All you knew was that you woke up to the smell of clean laundry and noticed snacks and a water bottle left on your nightstand. There was a note too that you had to reach over to grab. His handwriting was smudged but fancy, and it was so adorably him that it left you smiling ear to ear.

“Had to leave early. Meet me in my office tomorrow and we’ll discuss how you’ll be living in my universe from now on ,seeing as how you’re now mine, mi vida.”

. . .

74 notes · View notes

starlingflight · 1 month

Text

Ginniversary drabble 15

Prompt: #I19 -- The girl shouldn't have been sacked but if he said anything he'd make it worse.

Read on AO3 or below:

Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes was packed almost to bursting. Harry's plan to sneak under the invisibility cloak was swiftly abandoned; there was no room to manoeuvre. It didn't matter, he slid through the door and was immediately swallowed by the crowd.

The year-long closure had done nothing to dull the shine of the shop. Harry still didn't know where to look, he was captivated by a cacophony of colourful flashes, smoke-plumed bangs, and the sparkling whizz of a hundred different products all fighting for his attention.

His eyes wandered from one bright distraction to another as he navigated the crowd, only stopping when they fell on her.

She was, in his opinion, brighter than any firework could wish to be. The magenta staff robes that he had always thought clashed horribly with the signature Weasley hair, dulled in comparison to Ginny's smile until they were hardly noticeable.

Harry paused by a display of edible Dark Marks (clearance: buy one get one free), watching as Ginny directed a stack of skiving snackboxes onto a free topshelf with her wand.

An elderly woman was talking to her, holding up a fanged frisbee which looked to have been roughly torn from its packaging and now had several fangs missing.

“I'm sorry,” Ginny said, still smiling despite the scowl the woman was throwing at her. “I can't take it back without a receipt.”

“I don't have a receipt!” The old lady practically yelled.

Ginny's knuckles turned white where she gripped her wand. “I know, that's why I can't–”

“Oi, miss!” A middle-aged wizard with a grey beard and two children in tow barged up to Ginny.

The corners of her smile twitched. “I'll be with you in a–”

The bearded wizard shook his head. “I've been looking everywhere for an assistant.”

“Yes, if you could just give me a–”

He interrupted her again, apparently oblivious to the dangerous undercurrent in Ginny's voice that Harry found unmissable. “Does anybody actually work in this shop?”

Even Harry couldn't deny that the red flush slowly creeping over Ginny's face clashed jarringly with the magenta robes now. Her eyes narrowed to slits. “Yes, people do work here,” she hissed. “It might have escaped your attention, because clearly you think the world revolves around you, but we're actually quite busy today.”

The elderly witch gasped dramatically. Harry resisted the urge to grin.

The bearded wizard didn't have the good sense to appear affected by Ginny's tone at all. He crossed his arms defiantly over his chest. “I want three bottles of Otter's fizzy orange juice.”

“I want a refund!” The elderly witch chimed in.

A tiny huff of indignation escaped Ginny. Harry was strongly reminded of the puffs of air he'd seen escape an angry dragon's nostrils on more than one occasion. “Well, I want a lifetime supply of fizzing whizzbees, a pet unicorn, and five minutes free of entitled demands, but it looks like none of us are getting what we want, are we?”

The elderly witch clutched at her chest in a great show of shock. The bearded wizard's hands curled into fists. Harry took a step forward, pushing through the crowd in a bid to reach Ginny before the situation escalated.

George got there a moment before Harry did, appearing smoothly from the crowd and clapping a jovial hand on the wizard's shoulder. “Free of charge,” he said, offering three bottles of luminous orange liquid to the man before turning to the elderly witch with a smile that Harry had previously thought was reserved for Mrs Weasley. “If you go and see Verity at the counter, she'll be happy to refund you.”

“What?” Ginny burst out as both the wizard and the witch, apparently pleased with George's offers, melted into the crowd. “A refund? It's missing half its fangs because her grandchild is more feral than the product!”

George laughed loudly; his fingers dug into Ginny's shoulder pulling her back towards the wall. Harry followed, receiving only a short nod from both of them in acknowdgement of his arrival.

They turned to glare at one another in a way that suggested this wasn't their first argument in the four hours since Ginny had taken up employment in the shop. Harry hovered a few steps away.

“Ginny, you're fired,” George said, immediately confirming Harry's suspicions.

Ginny's eyes flicked to him, but Harry remained silent. He didn't think she should be sacked, but if he said anything he'd make it worse. He knew better than to come into in the middle of a Weasley sibling argument.

“You can't be serious!” Ginny fumed. “Because of a few egregiously rude customers?”

George laughed again, a sound that only served to increase Ginny's ire, judging by her expression. “That wasn't egregiously rude… once I had a woman ask me if I wanted to explain to her child why I'd decided to ruin Christmas, because we'd sold out of aviatomobiles.”

Her arms folded and she glared at the polished wooden floor. “Well, that kid's christmas was probably already ruined by having awful human beings for parents.”

‘Thats not the point,'' George persisted. "You made Wally Dixon cry."

"Wally Dixon cries at everything." Ginny shrugged, looking up at George defiantly. "I can't be held responsible for that."

"And I can't have crying patrons fleeing my shop – its bad for business."

“Fine!” Ginny declared. “I didn't want to work here anyway!”

She didn't wait for George to respond, already taking off into the crowd, her hand brushing against Harry's as she sidled past him, presumably to rid herself of the magenta robes.

George watched her go, shaking his head as he turned his eyes upon Harry. “Is it her charming personality that you're attracted to? Or is there something else I'm not seeing?”

#hinny #sort of #weasley siblings #definitely #ginny weasley #george weasley

67 notes · View notes

oleander-nin · 6 months

Text

Horrortober Day 25- Shock(Yandere Rise Donnie x Reader)

A/N, not important: Man there's a lot of Donnie. I should probably switch a few lol. Also this one kinda sucks because I'm running out of steam again and I only have Three more plots that I really actually like. And uh... two of them are Donnie. Oops. Hope y'all like him because apparently I sure did. Also my birthday's in exactly a week. So. yay! You're going to get reminded for the rest of these because I want to be annoying about it. Any criticism is welcome, constructive or not. This is supposed to be a gender neutral reader, so if I screwed up somewhere, please tell me.

-Ollie

CW: chains, shock collar, yandere themes, dark themes

Words: 1047

Summary: Donnie's desperate to get you to listen

“You’re not listening.” Donnie says, his voice tight and his hands halfway clenched at his sides. You roll your eyes, anger bubbling in your chest from the sheer audacity. You didn’t want to listen to a thing he had to say until he let you go.

“I don’t usually listen to people who chain me in their lab.” You sneer, yanking at the chain screwed into the wall and connected to your ankle. Donnie bristles at your words, his eyes sharpening as he looks down at you. You can tell you hit a nerve, especially after he just gave a near hour long speech on why it was necessary to keep you here. He opens his mouth before shutting it with a small click, his shoulders tense.

“I’m trying to keep you safe.” He says slowly, like he was talking to a small child. You try your best to hold your tongue, knowing that anything you said would be taken both literally, and as an act of war. Making him too angry could be dangerous, and you weren’t sure you wanted to risk it.

“I don’t need to be kept safe. I was fine on my own.”

“Scoff!” Donnie exclaims, his voice growing in pitch as he gets more upset. “You were living in less space than the average pig. I will not allow you to be in such conditions. I have everything you need here, and you can be kept safe and healthy. I’m helping you.”

Your face heats at the notion, your teeth sinking into your lips as you try to keep from yelling. “That was not your call to make. And how can I possibly be safe here? You kidnapped and chained me! That’s the opposite of being safe!”

“They were necessary precautions!” Donnie argues, his drawn eyebrows furrowing. He’s starting to lose his patience, his shoulders shaking while he fights you. “I offered to bring you home a few days ago and you refused! It’s not my fault you’re so stupid I needed to intervene.”

Your nose flares at his words, all caution thrown to the wind. Whether it was his intention or not, he had successfully riled you up to the point of snapping. Cohesive thought leaves and anger takes over, your eyes darkening and a scowl set on your face. “Why would I ever want to go ‘home’ with you?”

Donnie shifts, his stance becoming more closed off. He towers over you, trying to make you cower back. “And what is that supposed to mean?”

You roll your eyes, standing up shakily to meet him, wincing at the tightness of the chain around our ankle. Fire danced in Donnie’s eyes as you met his glare, neither backing down for a second. You snarl at him, wanting to do nothing more than punch him square in the face for treating you like this.

“You’re being unreasonable.” Donnie sneers, his eyes twitching while he stares down at you. You don’t say anything, only staring at him with the utmost hatred in your eyes. Any care you had for him before was gone, your words only fueled by anger and hatred for the mutant in front of you. Donnie holds your gaze for a moment more before looking away, leaving the room he’s tied you in and shutting the sliding door with as much force as he could muster. You fall back into a sitting position on Donnie’s bed, grumbling to yourself as you pull on the chain keeping you stationary. If you could only get rid of that, you would be able to run and get away. As long as Donnie didn’t notice, of course.

The door opens again, Donnie’s heavy footsteps signaling his nearing presence. You don’t react, keeping your back turned to him while you continue to meddle with the chain around your ankle in an act of defiance. You couldn’t do much in your position, but you could show him you weren’t backing down. You could feel his eyes boring into the back of your head.

You regret not looking at him when a sharp pain shoots through your scalp, Donnie’s hand tangled in your small mess of hair as he yanks your head up. You struggle and scream profanities at the mutant, clawing at his hands before two sleek robotic arms hold you down. His hand is removed from your head, both limbs moving to your neck as he fastens something cold and metal around your neck. He pulls back, and all of your struggling makes you fall forward, his spider-shell no longer holding you up.

You turn to glare at him, opening your mouth to yell some more, but your body doesn’t let you as white-hot pain shoots through your person. Your muscles spasm and lock up as you scream, the onset of pain only lasting mere seconds, but your limbs refusing to move for moments more. You shakily push yourself to your knees, looking at Donnie’s smug face with fear. Your twitching hand moves to your neck, swiping over the metal now practically melded to your skin from the tightness.

You thumb the sleek technology, the aftershocks of pain making you dizzy while your vision fades in and out for a few terrifying moments. You felt sick, the small amount of electricity buzzing under your skin before finally dissipating. You stare at Donnie in shock, unable to speak to him. Everything he had just done to you broke every assumption you had about him, every form of trust and bond shattered. He shocked you, the remote still loose in his hand.

“Do we understand the consequences of our actions?” Donnie asks, his voice light and playful despite the condescending words. He sounded happy with what he had done, probably overjoyed in the fact that his invention had worked. Faint memories of a similar device given to his brother flood your brain, but Leo’s could be removed and was much bulkier. Yours was sleek and smooth, flush with your skin and more collar-esque than the bulky tech that Leo was given. You gulp, looking at Donnie and the situation really dawning on you. You were stuck, and Donnie would do anything to keep you that way. He would keep you safe, even if it meant hurting you himself.

142 notes · View notes

mixelation · 27 days

Text

(a)synchronicity - probably the very beginning

Tori was currently tied by the wrist to two other people, part of a chain of five civilians and one shinobi. They stood out in the rain, in a muddy field outside of Ame. Hanzo stalked back and forth in front of them.

Needless to say, Tori’s day wasn’t going the way she had planned.

“You are the absolute scum of the earth,” Hanzo wheezed out through the filter over his mouth. “You are traitors and usurpers. Did you really think we would let you get away?”

The Ame Tori knew– the one twenty or so years in the future– would have let civilians move out, if they could prove they needed to. She could have written herself a very compelling letter about having no familial or professional ties and no job prospects, laid out a plan for how she'd be so good at a job somewhere else in the country, and she would have gotten exit papers.

Apparently in mid-Civil War Ame, even civilians were under suspicion of joining the rebels. Despite being homeless for the last month, despite not having a single thing to her name because she was not even from this time, despite not doing a single thing for Ame or its wars, Tori was meant to stay in Ame even if she starved. That was giving your life to a village, according to Hanzo’s ongoing mental breakdown.

“I’d rather die here than live another day serving you,” the shinobi that was supposed to be guiding them out snarled. Then she spat into the mud.

Why, Tori thought. There was no talking her way out of this, not with that attitude.

“As you wish,” Hanzo answered. His hands rose towards his face. There was a shuffling around them as the Ame-nin holding their sad little group at sword-point pulled gas masks over their mouths and noses.

Why would sewing a piece of salamander into yourself do that? Tori wondered as she watched purple fumes pour from Hanzo’s mouth.

She didn’t have it in her to feel fear. She’d done nothing but squat in abandoned, cold buildings and beg for food for the past month. She probably hadn’t gotten properly dry the entire time. She didn’t even have the energy to feel angry. She was just annoyed and tired.

The poison made all her neurons misfire. Pain shot through random parts of her body, and her legs convulsed and knocked her over. She dragged down both the people she was tied to– or maybe they dragged her down? It was hard to tell. They were one twitching mass of limbs and shrieks of pain at Hanzo’s feet.

“Tell your filth friends when you see them,” Hanzo said, voice no longer distorted by the mask, “that I will not stop even when Hell is full.”

Tori knew she was properly dead by then, because the gnawing hunger of the Shinigami spread inside her, becoming a part of her, driving out her own feelings. If Hanzo was going to fill her stomach, why wasn’t he? Why was he wasting her time with this measly meal?

It almost felt good to be one with the Shinigami, who did not feel cold or tired, just hungry, always hungry. Except, today she also felt…

What are you? The Shinigami wondered. But gods did not have to experience time strictly linearly like humans, and it puzzled it together quickly. Disgusting, Tori thought of her own soul, and then suddenly had the very human instinct to vomit.

She could feel the souls of the five other people in her stomach. She could also feel arms cutting her hands free and then dragging her through the thick mud of the field. Her nerves twitched. This was probably just what corpses killed by Hanzo did, because the person dragging her didn’t react.

This is a vile feeling, the Shinigami thought. Or perhaps it was what Tori thought. How dare a human touch me?

Tori had to fight to stay limp as repulsion filled her. Then she was being dumped down a hill along with the other bodies.

Ah, the Shinigami-in-her-head thought. The carcasses after a meal. And yet I’m still hungry…

Tori had been dumped into a mass grave, on top of a pit of rotting human bodies half-submerged in mud. Bile rose in her mouth, but she fought it back down, flailing for the edge of the pit. She refused to look down or think too hard as the Shinigami faded from her brain.

It took a long time and many failed attempts to crawl her way up the muddy slope.

Tori allowed herself to splay out in the mud for a few minutes. The Ame-nin were long gone. She hated dying, but it was a convenient little trick.

The poison still had lingering effects, and she stumbled over her own feet several times as she headed to the forest at the edge of the field. Her vision was spotted. But she was alive, and she was getting the hell out of Rain Country.

xXx

Tori was still in Rain Country. Travel was… challenging. Rain Country was at war with itself and its neighboring countries. Ninja occupied towns and roads and would randomly show up and kill you for no reason, or perhaps confiscate your supplies if you were lucky. The ninja came from every country, having made Ame the stage for their stupid Third War.

She had money now, though, at least. Ninja here weren’t any better at not getting tricked than they were in her timeline.

“What do you mean, kill them?” the farmer’s wife said. “They’re ninja!”

“They’re not even conscious,” Tori countered. She pressed the knife at the woman again. “They’ll die like anyone.”

The farmer’s wife seemed doubtful, her eyes nervously flickering over to her dining room where three young men sat slumped over their seats.

“Fine, I’ll show you,” Tori said, turning on her heel and marching back into the room.

It was nice of the farmer’s wife to let her stay with them, curled up in the dry hay of her barn. The ninja had been here since Tori had, because she’d stalked them here.

The farmer’s wife had old medications prescribed to her husband, from before the supply shortages and before her husband had died resisting a ninja raid. It had taken very little convincing from Tori to get the woman to crush up pills into the food she served the ninja. And then it had worked, because ninja had a hard time believing non-ninja weren’t idiots. They hadn’t expected a young civilian like Tori asking a bunch of stupid questions to be a distraction for another civilian doing something dangerous.

Of course, there was a period between being drugged and passing out where the ninja had realized something was wrong. There were several kunai in the walls and a huge scorch across the wooden dining table from them freaking out. This was probably why the farmer’s wife had refused to enter the room, despite being gungho about the plan just an hour ago.

The drugs worked just as well as the warning label had promised, though. There were all out like alight, breath and limbs heavy

Tori hovered over the biggest of the three ninja with the knife. A Konoha headband glinted back up at her. It was funny. She’d always just assumed Konoha-nin would be kinder than everyone else, but they weren’t. They would barge into some lady’s house, scare the shit out of her kids, and demand free room and board, just like any other ninja. The farmer’s wife had no idea what village had killed her husband, and it didn’t matter. All ninja were ninja to someone like her.

Tori fiddled with the knife. She wasn’t… she didn’t… well. She didn’t mind the idea of killing someone with a knife, but she had no idea how to do it cleanly.

She ended up turning the knife on herself and making a little incision into the fatty part of her forearm for blood. It would take some extra time and finagling, but fuuinjutsu was almost always what she was most comfortable with. She patted the ninja down for a spare fuuinjutsu brush– a lot of them had them, even if all they knew how to do was re-ink storage scrolls– and set about making a seal that would disrupt the ninja’s chakra just long enough to kill them.

It took long enough that the farmer’s wife regained the courage to creep into the kitchen.

“You’re one of them,” she gasped at the seal Tori had drawn in blood across the table.

“Um,” Tori said, settling the third ninja’s hand into place on the seal. “No I’m not?”

She smeared the last character into place with her finger, to activate the seal. She’d drawn the seal imperfectly, as it was on a random table in blood rather than traditional methods, and a lot of very dramatic smoke escaped.

The farmer’s wife made a lot of dramatic, outraged spitting noises. She didn’t even seem relieved when Tori confirmed all three men were dead now.

She kicked Tori out, although she did nothing but stand around and accuse Tori of being a lying bitch while Tori patted down the corpses for useful things. Like more pocket change. Or travel supplies. Or– gasp!– sealing ink and a bunch of blank tags!

“Which village sent you?” the farmer’s wife demanded, waving around another knife she’d picked up at some point. “Don’t you dare send any more of your freak friends out here!”

“I suggest burning the bodies,” Tori told her and she packed up her new goodies to leave and wiped the table clean of evidence. She didn’t need any shinobi getting wind of her fuuinjutsu. “Or anything else to hide their identities.”

Of all the villages, Konoha was most likely to send people to investigate random disappearances. They liked tracking where their bloodline limits ended up. Or, at least, that’s what the Iwa-nin that Tori had failed to convince to go engage a Konoha team had said as his excuse.

The temperature was dropping as she hiked away from the farm. Maybe there was a way to use fuuinjutsu to temperature-regulate her tent… no, that seemed like it needed a lot of testing to make sure she didn’t set it on fire in the night…

Tori’s hands balled into fists as she walked. Why was even finding a warm bed impossible? Or someone to just be nice to her, without suspicion and threats?

****

TORI KILL COUNT: 3

#asynchronicity #my writing

58 notes · View notes

theysaidhush · 8 months

Note

all i wanna see is jake cuddling with jungwon cause that’s so cute 😭 i literally would be content with just jayke cuddling their cat hybrids

Fluffy and cuddly

-> The cat from across the garden, Stand alone I

-> Owner!Sim Jake x CatHybrid!Shy!Reader

-> Jake coming home and cuddling his catgirl hybrid aka you. P.s: He also has an epiphany while doing so...

Day 22

"I'm home..."

The usual cheery and loud voice of your owner echoed within the walls of your small apartment, making your ears twitched and your head raised at the small voice coming from the door. It was weird and unusual, so much that you could almost compare this situation to a polar bear in a desert. It was making you feel uneasy and anxious for no apparent reason at all.

Jake's head poke from the corridor and he made a bee line toward your shared bed, plopping face first on it while discarding his backpack somewhere near the kitchen - not that he cared. Your nose wasn't as sensitive as your feline counter part, or as the canine hybrids, and yet you could still say that your best friend was reeking anxiousness and anger. It was a weird mix of perfume, bitter, sour, that you did not often smelled on the Australian.

"Jakey..?" you put down your book and slowly made your way towards his slumped form, careful with every step you took as to not disturb him more than necessary. Maybe he was feeling sick ? You did not wanted to worsen a potential headache. Actually, you were the one who was starting to get a headache. You did not know if it was because of the pungent smell emanating from him, or just because you were really empathetic.

"I'm fine..." he grunted, turning his head toward you and taking a deep breath, face contorted and cheek squished against the blanket. The sight made you giggle and you slowly sat next to him, getting a little bit closer every passing seconds. You were eager to help him release some of his tension he best you could, patiently waiting for him to utter a word or move a hand. "Jus' had a bad day, with bad grades, and mean customers... That's it, I think."

You hummed ans started to play with his fingers, smiling softly at how they wrapped around yours, a warmth spreading through your body at the demonstration of affection. Even when he was tired and angry, he was doing hi best to tend to your need and be nice to you. Maybe you were a bit mean to him, those days.

Guilt started to pool in your stomach at the embarrassing memories flooding your brain. You were so mean and uncaring, too focus on your lover across the garden, that you forgot to ask him about his day, his health. You were decided, you were going to make it up to him.

"People are mean." you said, pouting. How could they be mean with your Jake ? How could they be mean towards another human ? Having a bad day did not justify being unpleasant to someone else. You were all human, but apparently, some were less human than other.

"I know Baby, I know. I'm glad you don't get to interact with those jerks."

You got on your knees and, with all your strength, pushed Jake on the other side of the bed. Now, he was facing the ceiling, able to breath again, properly, and you were able to snuggle by his side.

You missed the way your owner's eyes widened, surprised at the sudden PDA, but you did not missed the way he wrapped an arm around your shoulder, getting on his side so he could get a better look at you. He missed having you in his arms like this, talking about nonsense until you're both tired and snoring into each other arms. He missed the way you would look at him with those pretty eyes of yours, a galaxy reflecting in your pupils, as if he was the world and so much more.

He gently put his hand on your cheek, staring at you, lost into his thoughts, thinking about how lucky he was to have you, and then, at the exact moment when you blinked slowly and started to purr against his chest, he has an epiphany. He's deeply madly and irrevocably in love with you. If he wasn't sure about it before, now he can only smack himself on the head and ask how he did not realize his feelings for you. You were just here, all along, before his eyes, in his arms. He just can't help the words that leaves his mouth, eagerly, almost slurred, because he's so eager for you to ear them.

"I love you."

And you wrap your tail around his wrist, and shyly lick his neck, grooming him as one would do to his lover, and then after was felt like an eternity, you finally say it back - even if you did not hesitated one second before speaking those words back to him, maybe it was how he caught his breath, or the way time seemed to stop at that moment.

"I love you too, Jakey..."

And if it wasn't for the words that you spoke next, he would have think that you were just saying this just like you say goodbye every morning. If it wasn't for the way you looked at him with heart eyes or the way you took his hand to put it on your healed ear, holding it as if you were afraid that he was about to break, as if he wasn't stronger than you, guiding him to stroke your fluffy fur in a slow motion, he would have think that it was just another cuddly session. But it isn't. Because you love him-

"So so much."

#i'm weak #enhypen x reader #enhypen fanfiction #enhypen soft hours #sim jake x reader #sim jake fluff #sim jake imagines #enhypen jake fluff #enhypen jake x reader #enhypen fluff #enhypen imagines

138 notes · View notes

gojoest · 1 year

Note

Hi! <3 Can I ask for Ace + white + nsfw + f!reader? =) Thank you!! Looking forward to the event! Congrats on the Milestone!!

.°⊹˙ featuring: portgas d. ace

.°⊹˙ tags/warnings: minors & ageless blogs dni // 18+ only, fem!reader, unprotected sex, lil bit fingering like tiny bit, creampie, cursing, clingy bf ace ( lmk if i missed any )

.°⊹˙ a/n: hello my lovely !! < 3 and thank you so much for joining my event! hope you enjoy this little drabble. it was supposed to be max 100ish words but apparently i have a weakness and it’s called ace. 💀 p.s.: you can find your moodboard right after the drabble !! <33

.°⊹˙ wc: 0.6k+

Ace was a simple man. When he fell in love, it was only one time. Nobody before you. Nobody after. Either you or no one. You were the constant thought in his mind. He had a deep sense of yearning for you he couldn’t possibly explain, let alone control. He craved your body and warmth, your smell. All the time. With each second spent apart from you, from your smile, from your touch – part of him died a little. He’d sleep next to you, yet still dream about you, his hand suddenly jerking in search for yours in his slumber, like an unconscious, automatic reflex that doesn’t need the brain to create the action. Love bordering on addiction.

You were standing in the middle of the kitchen preparing breakfast when you heard footsteps approaching.

‘I don’t like it when you leave the bed, I miss you’, Ace pouted, leaning his naked body against the kitchen door, eyes half open, strands of messy hair – some pointing up and some falling over his face covering his freckles.

‘Someone needs to eat’, you glanced at him over your shoulder, ‘also – put some clothes on.’

‘Now, now’, he said as he slowly approached you and hugged you from behind.

‘I was thinking’, he planted a soft kiss on your neck ‘that maybe you’d take yours off’. His lips and hot breath warming you, heating you like a flame to a candle. It wasn’t long before his hips moved slightly forward, pressing his hard-on against your ass. Shit, he was so hard that it made you moan in approval.

‘Bedroom.’, you whispered.

Seconds after you entered the room, Ace tore your dress over your head and threw you on the bed. You held your arms out as he hovered his muscular body over you, his dick hard, leaky and twitching, a copious amount of precum splashing on your belly. He ran one hand up the inside of your thighs, sliding your underwear to the side before slowly parting your pussy lips. A gasp of pleasure escaped your lips as his fingers found your wetness, poking inside to confirm that you were indeed soaking wet.

‘S-shit…’, he cursed under his breath, ‘so w-‘, but didn’t finish, considering the angry state of his erection, it wasn’t his place to tease you, really. Besides, he was relieved you were this wet as every part of his body now tingled in anticipation to enter you. He used his wet fingers with your juices to lube his cock and then rubbed himself across your pussy. Just a thrust away from pleasure, he thought. And then it happened, he slipped himself inside you with such force and eagerness that it took your breath away. Your mouth remained open as you tried to adjust yourself to his size that forced itself all the way in.

‘Fuck…’, Ace let out a low groan before he started thrusting in and out, hitting all the sweet spots with a perfect rhythm – pulling himself out about 4 inches and then burying himself back in, filling you up. Both of your pants grew louder as he increased the intensity of his pounding. Lips together. But you weren’t kissing, just pressing them together, breathing deeply into each other’s mouths. Each time he pulled back, he rubbed against a very sensitive spot, shooting sparks to your brain. Ace kept looking you in the eyes as he pushed himself in again and again. You closed your eyes and tilted your head back. You were so close. But so was Ace, judging by his strokes getting shorter and faster with each thrust. His breathing also indicated the same. He grunted loudly as you felt five strong pulses fill you up. Your body bucked against his as you also came. You were still connected. Convulsing, shivering. Chests heavy.

You spent a good 15 minutes snuggling and humming in pleasure from what just happened, before you attempted to get up only to be pulled back into Ace’s arms.

‘I’m fairly certain I said I don’t like it when you leave the bed.’

𝐀𝐈'𝐒 𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐓

#ai's milestone event #ai.writes #ai.sins #one piece smut #portgas d ace #portgas d ace smut #portgas d ace x reader #one piece x reader #ace smut #portgas d ace x you #one piece x you

640 notes · View notes

pinkskytwst · 1 year

Text

A Pirate King's First Mate

Childhood Friend!Au

Leona/Reader (not Yuu)

============================

The first time Leona met you at five years old, you both got into a screaming match that quickly devolved into a physical scrap that ended with the two of you covered in mud, bruised, and him limping.

Your parents – a pair of female nobles that were friends with Leona’s mother – just groaned while Leona’s own cackled brightly and pulled the both of you under each of her arms to haul off to the healers.

Leona insisted loudly that he never wanted to see you again.

The queen invited you back the next day.

Leona threw a fit. He refused to come out of his room until his mother came personally and in a calm but firm voice instructed her son to unlock the door. He did, of course, but didn’t hide the glare that he sent you from where you stood just behind her. He puffed up even more when you stuck your tongue out at him, nose scrunched up and obviously as happy about being there as he was.

The queen proceeded to leave you both to ‘play together nicely’ in his room and absconded with your mothers for a private teatime.

Leona waited until he couldn’t hear the adults’ footsteps any longer before spinning around stalking out of his room in the opposite direction. His ears twitched when he heard you scrambling after him.

“Hey! You can’t just leave me! Your mom said you have to play with me!” you demanded, more angry at him abandoning you against his mother’s wishes than actually wanting to play together.

“Go away, I don’t play with herbivores.” He said, raising his chin like he saw Farena do when he was trying to act like their father.

“I’m not a herbivore!” you stomped your foot, “And your mom said-“

“Do you always do everything your moms tell you?” he snapped, glaring over his shoulder.

“Of course, I do!” your voice utterly offended.

Well…Leona hardly ever went against what his mother wanted either but still…you were a baby herbivore, and he didn’t want anything to do with you, so it wasn’t the same.

He scoffed and wound his way through the halls, ignoring the guards and any passing servants as you continued to chase after him stubbornly.

“Go away, I don’t play with babies.”

“I’m not a baby! I’m older than you!”

“You’re shorter, so you’re the baby.”

“That’s not fair! Your ears don’t count!”

“Of course, they do, they’re me, idiot!”

“You’re the idiot!”

The bickering continued as he couldn’t manage to lose you in the garden.

Your patience apparently ran out, though, as you threw yourself at him again and you both went down. He struck back, of course, sending you rolling but – the same as the time before – you ended up on top of him, victorious smile on your face.

“HA! Pinned ya!”

“Let me go!” he complained, trying to wiggle away. “I’m a prince you know! You can’t treat me like this!”

You just stuck your tongue out again but did eventually let him up, still smug smirk on your face despite his glower.

“You’re a very uncute herbivore!”

“Well, you're a rude prince!”

His face screwed up in a pout, ready to go at you again, but instead he just huffed and climbed to his feet, brushing off the grass stains and dirt smudges as best he could. He turned and continued on to his favorite tree to nap under and proceeded to climb it.

You scampered after him again but gaped as he made himself comfortable in the branches completely out of your reach.

“Hey! Hey, that’s not fair!” you stomped your foot, going to the large tree trunk and trying to follow after him.

Your climbing skills were nothing to his, though, despite his young age, and you barely got your feet off the ground before you toppled back and landed in the dirt. A grunt escaped you and you rubbed at your backside with a pout, eyes narrowing at the smug smirk from the boy above you.

“Looks like you really are an herbivore if you can’t even climb a tree.” His tiny fangs flashing in his grin.

“You…you-ugh!” you threw your hands into the air and stormed off, giving him some actual peace and quiet again, thankfully.

You returned a couple of minutes later, arms covered in mud and proceeded to throw a huge sludge ball right at his stupid, prince face.

To say your ‘friendship’ had a rough start was an understatement.

The ‘play dates’ continued like that for months, only ending when you were both either having to be dragged to the healers again or so filthy you had to be carted off by servants to be hosed down and given proper baths before being able to be seen by polite company again.

You were the bane of Leona’s existence, and he did not understand why his mother didn’t grasp the insurmountable trials she was putting him through. She would just smile fondly and brush her fingers through his hair and completely change the subject by telling weird stories about how she and his father would fight when they were children.

What did that matter!? He didn’t care about how stupid his dad was for not seeing how awesome his mom was as a kid! It just confirmed that he was an idiot! It had nothing to do with the trauma your very presence was inflicting on him! Why couldn’t she just order you to not come back! Clearly if she loved him she wouldn’t force him to suffer your bullying!

But no, she would just chuckle and kiss his forehead and promise that one day he would understand and forgive her.

No, he was certain this was the one thing that he wouldn’t be able to forgive his mom for even if he could never stay mad at her.

It was favoritism! Why couldn’t she torture Farena with an annoying herbivore and let him hang around Njeri instead? She deserved better than being betrothed to his jerk of a brother anyway! She definitely had better taste and wouldn’t actually agree to marry him when they were older! He might not want to marry her but it would still be better being around her than having to put up with the brat that kept shoving his face in mud!

Not that they could actually beat him or anything! He was going easy on them, that’s all!

More months passed, a couple of birthdays, and still he was stuck putting up with you at least three times a week. A common complaint that he brought up to his mother every chance he could.

He would detail out all the horrible things about you and how you always bullied him and never treated him like a prince the way you should and they should praise him for going easy on you because that’s the only reason they found him trapped under you again as you ruthlessly braided flowers into his hair so that he would look like a ‘real prince’.

Really! He was just being nice and letting you win!

He was a prince after all! He should be shown respect even if he wasn’t going to be king! You were anything but respectful! Clearly he deserved a better ‘friend’!

After the funeral, you were the first person to find him.

“Hey.” You said, voice cutting through his deafening thoughts that were dragging his soul down deeper into the tar of despair and self-hatred.

“Go away.” He muttered, burying his head deeper into his arms and claws digging into the black sleeves of his kanzu to the point that the luxurious fabric began to rip.

Not that he cared. Not that it mattered.

Nothing mattered anymore.

“No.”

He couldn’t even work up the energy to lash out as he felt you sit beside him under the tree. His tree he always hid away at.

Where you were always able to find him.

You sat there in silence for an undetermined amount of time that dragged on like hours.

It grated on his nerves. Raw and stinging as he couldn’t figure out if it would be better if you would say something or if he didn’t want to hear your voice.

He didn’t want to listen to anyone. The thought of being around others, feeling their stares heavy on his shoulders like accusing fists suffocating him, of hearing the hissed whispers that now followed his every step like poisonous snakes sinking their fangs into his heart. It all made him sick. It made him want to rip off his own ears, to claw his eyes out.

It made him wish he had died instead of his mother.

“You know…” you finally said, breaking him from his sludge tar thoughts again. “If you want, we can go be pirates.”

Leona looked up from his arms, staring at you.

You pointed to your own eye, the one that mirrored the scar that now slashed over his own, mostly healed but still an angry red.

The one he had gotten from the assassin before his mother had thrown herself at the female with a vicious roar that felt like it rocked the very ground beneath them.

“You look like a pirate now. You want to be a king right? We can go be pirates and you can be a pirate king. I’ll have to come too, of course, since you’re useless with out me but I guess if I have to follow a pirate king you’d be a good one.”

Leona just stared up at you.

You were ten now and he would be in a month, but you were still a little taller than him. He hated it. He complained to his mother all the time about you growing faster than him.

She always told him to be patient.

She’d never tell him that again.

He didn’t realize that he was crying until you reached out with your sleeve and started to scrub them away. You weren’t gentle but you were also not as rough as you normally were.

“DON’T TOUCH ME!”

No one should touch him! It wasn’t safe! He would kill you just like-

The breath left his lungs as you were suddenly right there and wrapping your arms around him.

He struggled, tried to pull away, did his best not to let his hands land on you.

The hands of a killer.

“Shut up! You’re being dumb!” you snapped, your voice wobbly in a way he’d never heard it before. “It’s not your fault! It was that bitch’s fault for attacking you and your mom! It was your guards’ faults for not stopping her!”

Leona froze, his mind still as his thoughts circled around one thing.

“Your moms will be mad that you cussed.”

He felt your breath shutter against his chest, the beat of your heart dragging him back down to reality.

“I’m practicing.” He muttered into his neck, the stubborn tone returning to what he was familiar with. “We’re going to be pirates, remember? I decided. We’re going to be pirates and you’re going to be the Pirate King and I’m going to be your right hand pirate because all Pirate Kings need a right hand pirate.”

“Idiot, they’re called ‘first mates’.”

“Well, I’ll be your first mate then, you jerk prince! But only I get to be so you can’t go off and be a pirate without me, you got it! It was my idea so it wouldn’t be fair! You can’t leave without me!”

Leona swallowed thickly, not understanding what was happening but also…maybe he didn’t mind listening to your voice as much as he thought.

It wasn’t a horrible voice after all. And he supposed you weren’t ugly even if you were still an annoying herbivore.

“I can’t touch you.” He finally whispered, keeping his hands hovering away from you.

The feeling of sand beneath his fingers still snapped him into a cold sweat and haunted his nightmares.

“Stop saying stupid things.” You refused to pull away from him and just tightened your grip. “Who cares if you can turn things to sand, hm? You think you’re so amazing, you idiot? You’re 9! I’m older and smarter and I’m telling you that your sand powers won’t hurt me! If you’re so scared we’ll get you gloves. Pirates wear cool gloves all the time anyway. An eyepatch too. Maybe covering up one of your eyes will make your aim better!”

Leona couldn’t breathe again.

He didn’t understand. He didn't understand, but he didn’t want you to leave.

His touch was feather light, terrified and ready to rip away in an instant.

You didn’t flinch. Your heart didn’t so much as speed up as you continued to hold him.

You gave a small, annoyed huff.

“Idiot.” You muttered. “Pirates cry too so it’s fine. It’s only me anyway.”

Suddenly he was clutching at you, broken sobs wracking through his body as everything he had been holding in, trying to hide, forcing back behind a mask to escape everyone in the palace that could no longer look at him without seeing a murderer, came flooding out.

He cried himself to sleep.

You carried him to the palace on your back and snarled at any servant or guard that looked at him wrong.

You pushed him into bed and kicked off your own sandals before climbing in to join him, curling around his smaller form.

It was the first night since he watched his mother die that he didn’t wake up screaming.

Lots of things changed over the years. Some bad, some good.

The constant in Leona’s life, though, remained you. It was you since the day when you were both five and it would be you until the day one of you died.

When you were both accepted to Night Raven College he wasn’t surprised. He was a genius after all and you were…passable at least. Not as good as him – though you’d never admit it no matter how many times he shoved it in your face – but definitely better than the plebians that filled the rest of the world.

He’d never admit to the relief he felt when you were placed in the same dorm.

With all the trouble you got into it was just easier to make sure you didn’t get in over your head if he was at your side.

School was boring but with you there at least it was at least bearable. It was better than being at ‘home’ where whispered still followed – though less when you were at his side – and he could escape the obnoxious cub of a nephew his brother had so generously gifted him.

Cheka loved you, of course, and you doted on him like he was your own and it was the most annoyingly sickening sweet thing he ever saw that he tended to just snag the brat by the back of his shirt and throw him out of the room whenever you were around.

No one wanted to see that!

He didn’t really care about doing too well, though he would allow you to drag him to class every now and then. It wasn’t like grades were going to change anything about his future and he knew all the information already anyway. School was just to enjoy and despite the lectures you might give him every now and then you gave in enough that he knew you didn’t mind it all that much.

It also helped that he was now much taller than you and he took every chance he could to use it against you by dragging you down for a nap or just throwing you over his shoulder to cart off to the botanical gardens.

Of course, when he noticed that others didn’t always treat you like you deserved – he was the only one that could tease or call you names – he quickly took action and when your Housewarden had shrugged off his words with: “Maybe if they were stronger they wouldn’t be a target.”

Well, needless to say he was the new pack leader of Savanaclaw and the old was in the infirmary for three weeks before he was allowed out of bed.

After that no one in the dorm dared to try anything with you and the rare time that you couldn’t take care of yourself against someone from another dorm he dealt with it for you.

“It’s my job to take care of my first mate.” He’d shrug before ruffling your hair and then throw his arm around your neck to drag you back to his room for a nap.

That changed in your third year during the first break back home.

The two of you had enjoyed a day out, a rare occasion for Farena to not keep him swarmed by guards the entire time and just allowed for a ‘chaperone’ – who was definitely a guard in disguise – and you had dragged him to the ‘Watering Hole’.

It was a centralized tourist spot with a large lake and surrounded by expansive shopping and restaurant districts. Entertainment avenues of theater and movies and clubs, and all absolutely swarmed with people.

He hated it.

You thought it was great.

You might not have been royalty, after all, but you were still a noble and your parents were pretty protective as well so you rarely got to just go out and explore places so public.

You couldn’t keep the beaming smile off your face and he guessed he could put up with it for one day.

You were a trouble magnet, though, so he had to keep a firm hold on your hand the entire time.

No doubt you’d go and get tricked into some unmarked van with promises of free candy and kittens otherwise, so he was only being responsible like his brother always nagged him about.

The worst thing was…it didn’t even have to happen.

If he had been paying attention.

If he hadn’t been so focused on watching the way your eyes sparkled with excitement over something as simple as samosas from a street vendor…

The next thing he knew your treat was on the ground and you had thrown yourself at him, shoving him as hard as your strength could manage.

Energy sizzled through the air, electric shocks brushing over his skin and sending his nerves on end.

He snapped into defense mode, pen out and already throwing up a shield while holding you close.

They were nothing - street thugs that only one of them even had magic at all. It was barely a flick of his pen before they were all thrown into a nearby store’s wall and knocked unconscious. The police and guards would handle them.

The smell of charred flesh reached his nose.

His heart stopped as he looked down at your unmoving form in his arms, back smoking as your clothes had been burned away by the blast that you had taken.

The blast meant for him.

He tasted sand on his tongue.

The black, jagged streaks traveled along your spine and painted your skin where the outright, open wound weeped crimson.

You weren’t breathing.

Leona didn’t remember much after that. Sirens, maybe, people trying to pull you from his grasp, definitely, but the next time he was really aware he was sitting at your bedside in the palace’s private hospital wing. Your hand clasped between his white knuckles and his eyes locked on your face and his ears focused solely on listening for every beep to confirm that your heart was still beating.

The healers said it was a miracle you had survived. Your mothers had sobbed in relief and then horror at the knowledge that you may very well never walk again.

The thought didn’t make sense in his mind.

You were…you were so small. Why did you look so small?

How could someone like you, someone who could do so much, was meant for so much – meant so much to him – look so tiny and weak.

It wasn’t right.

And it was his fault.

It was always his fault.

You would be safe if it wasn’t for him.

If he had never been brought into your life.

Leona took a deep breath, swallowing back the taste of sand and lightning before he delicately laid your hand down on the stark white, hospital sheets.

He had to fight but eventually he released your fingers and stood from the plastic chair. He forced himself not to pause at the door, forced himself not to look back at your unconscious form.

He didn’t deserve to.

He left.

Leona didn’t leave his room for weeks, though he ordered his guard to notify him of any change to your status. He barely left his bed and ignored all cries from Cheka outside his door.

He didn’t have the energy to deal with him.

He didn’t have the energy for anything.

It felt like his heart finally started beating again when he heard you had woken up for the first time.

He wanted to rip it out when he had to growl to his brother that he wasn’t coming even though you were asking for him.

Every day you asked for him.

Every day he wished he could just die instead of having to deny you.

But he couldn’t see you. He couldn’t let you be a part of his life anymore when everyone he ever lo-ever cared about would be a target. Would be eventually ripped from his arms and leave him alone.

It was only when you refused to eat until he came to speak with you face to face that he managed to force himself out of bed.

“You look like shit.”

Those were the first words you said to him, sitting propped up in the hospital bed’s many pillows and connected to more wires and tubes than he had seen on anyone before.

“Speak for yourself.” He said before he even had a chance to bite the words back, hating himself instantly.

You only smirked at him, though it was exhausted as if merely being awake was more than you could handle at the moment.

“Stop being an idiot and eat. You-“

“Shut up, jerk, you don’t get to give me orders when you left. You left.”

Your expression fell, twisting into something more pained and hurt than he could ever remember coming from you.

You were in a hospital bed from an attack that you took for him and instead of being angry at him not protecting you as he should, you were angry that he wasn’t there when you woke up.

“I-“

“WE MADE A DEAL! I’M YOUR FIRST MATE! YOU DON’T GET TO LEAVE ME BEHIND!”

You were crying.

You were crying and it was like someone was clawing his heart out all over again.

Without thinking, without even pausing to contemplate any kind of consequence or fall out, Leona was at your side, leaning over you and cupping your face as you struggled to breathe through the sobs and the pain shooting through your body that came with them.

“Y-you’re my Pirate K-king.” You whimpered, hands pressing his against your cheeks and eyes looking up at him desperately. “You can’t leave me b-behind.”

He was helpless. He realized there was never anything he could ever refuse you. He would do anything to take your pain away, make the tears stop.

“If I’m your King then you have to follow my orders.” He said lowly, voice raw. “You can’t leave me either. What am I supposed to do without a first mate?”

You gave a wobbly sort of chuckle, still trembling from the tears.

“You’d be useless.”

“Yeah.”

A small smile pulled on your lips and suddenly he was leaning in desperately, claiming them with his own.

You let out a small sound of surprise but his heart leaped when you instantly returned the kiss without hesitation, meeting his tongue with your own eagerly.

First mate indeed…

Farena didn’t bother asking why he failed that year, or the year after.

You were still recovering, still learning to walk again and regain what you had lost from the attack.

It took two years and while he kept his dorm running and in line, he made no effort to progress with school.

There was no point without you there after all.

It was hard to get up the energy to get out of bed most days, anyway, so he just didn’t bother. Most of the time he was awake he was texting or calling you.

Ruggie was really a life saver at that point, keeping things mostly orderly and him from just growing moss in his sheets.

But when you were finally recovered enough to return to school – and he made absolutely sure that Crowley understood that you would be welcomed back to school no matter how long it had been – he attended the first opening ceremony since he had become Housewarden.

Technically since it had been so long, the Headmage insisted you had to be resorted.

Not that Leona understood why.

You belonged at his side, no where else.

Of course, you were sent to Savanaclaw once more, and he was proud to be able to watch you join your fellow dorm members under your own power after all the hard work you had put into relearning to walk.

You might have been a little more clumsy than before, a little quicker to tire, but to him it only showed just how strong you were.

If he was protective before, it was nothing compared to now.

He still hated class but more often than not he would go if for no other reason than to insure that you got there safely and had someone to help if you were struggling.

Days that the taste of sand and lightning suffocated him, you would crawl into bed with him and wrap your arms around him so he could listen to your heartbeat.

When the pain overpowered the potions you took, he would carry you back to his room, fill a hot bath, and hold you as you cried and tried to let the heat soothe the pain in your legs.

The one time someone tried to say something about you being a ‘burden’ to him, he nearly ripped their throat out and it was only a passing Crewel that managed to prevent him from succeeding.

Needless to say no one ever said anything negative about you again.

You lectured him, loudly, in the Savanaclaw lounge while you cleaned his busted knuckles and wrapped them. Not holding back as you told him just how stupid he was and how you didn’t know why you put up with his idiocy.

The other Savanaclaw students just stared in both awe and a little bit of terror at how you so fearlessly told off the prince that had almost just committed murder.

Leona propped his cheek up with one bandaged fist and flashed a sharp, fanged grin that sent everyone scampering away.

Any insult to you, after all, was an insult to him.

When he dragged you to his rooms and locked the door, you didn’t even bother doing more than rolling your eyes before letting him press you into the pillows and show just how sorry he was for upsetting you.

In the end…he supposed he could forgive his mother for forcing him to be friends with a weak little herbivore.

He could be strong for the both of you.

When you finally got fed up with his teasing and shoved him over to climb on top of him and take exactly what you wanted, he supposed you weren’t really all that weak to begin with.

=====================

Hope you all like it! <3 A little angstier than Riddle's but let's be real, no matter what childhood Leona had it would be filled with angst.

@miss-hyoko

#pinkskytwst #twisted wonderland #twst wonderland #twst prefect #disney twst #twst fanfic #leona kingscholar #leona x reader #angst #violence #assassination attempts #blood and injury #depression

286 notes · View notes

puhpandas · 6 months

Text

Rough Night

(2,580 words)

Gregory and Vanessa both have scars from The Mimic. Mentally and physically. (Gregory was bait for trapping the mimic and has scars to show for it. Vanessa's scars are mentally, though)

The scar is nothing new, really. Three thick gashes cut cleanly through his calf, each coiling around his leg like a snake, only made six short months ago.

They had needed bait. They'd needed someone to lure the thing into their trap to shut the doors on it. They knew how smart it was. They knew it wouldnt be fooled so easily. No. They had to be smarter than it. They had to give it something to chase. They had to put one of the things it hates most right in front of it. They had to make it think only of the prey it could catch.

It was him, of course. Turns out, when you break free suddenly from somethings control, then proceed to free every other minion of its and leave it back at square one, that thing can develop a really bad grudge against you.

Gregory remembers now. He didnt back then. He remembers how he was its favorite, once upon a time. It had selected him like it had selected Vanessa.

Thinking back, maybe that's why Vanessa insisted he was the better choice for bait. Maybe the thing felt betrayed in a way. Maybe its angry that its former favorite had been its downfall. He doesnt know.

It doesnt matter, anymore. Shutting down useless thoughts is apart of what hes learned at the therapy he and Vanesss have started together. The thing is trapped now. It doesnt matter to him.

It's hard to not reminisce, though. Not when those same three long lines sliced jaggedly through his leg were from the things claws. When it got him at the last second in the vent.

Not when those same lines running all the way up his calf and then some flare up in the night. Not when it didnt heal properly. Not when it still hurts him.

Like the scar, the pain is nothing new. It's not the first time its woken him up in the night. Usually, he bites it down until he falls back asleep.

This time is bad, though. It's not as easily ignored. Usually, if he lays still, the pain will fade long enough to drift back off.

This time, though, it sends stabbing pain up his leg that causes him to twitch and shift, and the burning never ceases. He bites his tongue, frustration palpable in the groan he let's out.

Stupid, stupid robot. Stupid claws. Stupid vent. He usually doesn't get this upset, but this night is a bad night, apparently. His leg is so irritated it's impossible to ignore, and no matter how much he tries to lay still in bed and clear his thoughts, the knowledge that theres scar gel in a drawer in the kitchen bought specifically for nights like these linger in his minds eye.

He groans one more time when his annoyance doesnt cause the pain to magically wash away, and he throws the covers off of his body, hissing when the movement irritates the scar tissue even more.

He bites it down, pushing through with furrowed brows. He just needs to make it to the kitchen, use the gel, sit for a little while, and then hopefully go back to sleep.

He never bothers Vanessa with things like this. Shes sleep deprived enough as it is. Gregory has the mercy of not remembering everything. The things he does being not so vivid.

Vanessa doesnt get that. The memories plague her the worst at night. As clear a day. Shes always telling him how glad she is that he doesnt have to deal with them like she does.

Gregory thinks it's kinda funny. How Vanessa got the mental scars and Gregory got the physical ones. The thin, jagged slice on his cheek never went away, either. It's still there. A permanent reminder of that night.

A permanent reminder that they killed him. Gregory reminds himself. A permanent reminder that hes gone. Like how my leg is like a symbol of how that thing is trapped forever now.

Gregory and Vanessa are victims, sure. But they're also survivors. They won the battle. They won the war. And they have the marks to show for it.

He tiptoes past Freddys slumped, charging, patchwork body with practiced precision. The feeling of sneaking past an animatronic is all too familiar. He turns the knob of the door of his room gently, mindful of where it creaks, and swings it open.

He makes it to the kitchen easily, after that. Being quiet in the silence comes naturally when he pulls open the drawer he knows they keep it in, grabbing the tube as soon as it's in sight.

He avoids all of the floorboards that creak when he makes his way to the couch in their small living room, sending a look to the door of Vanessa's room when he sits down.

He sighs. He'll be quiet. He doesnt want Vanessa to wake up.

He doesnt want to bother her. She has her own demons. He wants her to rest as much as shes able.

He doesnt want to add on to the reasons shes so exhausted every day.

Vanessa knows exactly what kind of night this is when she filters back into conciousness slowly. When she becomes aware or her body, her joints are sore and her mouth is as dry as a desert.

Shes warm, tucked safely into bed, and plenty tired. Usually, all of these factors lead to a great nights sleep.

Not for her, though. Her rough nights are nothing new, really. When she'd first gotten back, freshly freed, only ten short months ago, sleep had been scarce. Every time shed try, flashes of what she'd been forced to do those two years would play behind her eyelids like a slideshow.

That only happens half the time, now. An improvement, sure, but a good night's sleep is still rare for her.

She doesnt even try to fall back asleep. She knows she won't be able to. Better to stop the memories before they arrive by busying herself. Shes used to being tired, anyway.

Its nothing new, really, when she peels herself off of her covers and stumbles her way through her pitch black room to her door. She'll sit in the living room. Watch a movie, maybe. Get a snack. It's what she usually does on her bad nights.

Shes halfway through a silent, jaw creaking yawn when she catches sight of the couch already being occupied, and the TV already on.

She only stands there and stares for a moment, but she understands quickly. She sighs sadly, resigned.

I guess we both had a rough night. Vanessa thinks when she catches sight of Gregory's scar gel on the coffee table.

She makes herself known silently, inching into Gregory's line of sight so he'll notice her himself. He still startles when she catches him unexpectedly, but she doesn't apologize. She knows him. She knows he doesnt like acknowledging it.

He huffs out a sigh, seemingly coming to the former conclusion she just did moments ago. He shimmies down the couch, making room for her in the little nest of blankets hes created on the couch.

She sits down without a word. She knows, and she knows that he knows, and she knows that he knows that she knows. Theres no point in voicing it.

She always finds comfort in the silence, anyway. It's nice. Knowing that somebody gets you enough to not need words. Before, shed always needed to confirm. To deny. To explain. To answer.

She doesn't need to do that, with Gregory. Something about being in the same boat helps her understand. It helps them understand eachother.

She digs into the open box of Cheez-Its Gregory has propped up on his leg, crunching down on a handful. She gazes up at the TV, her eyes burning from the light that shines as bright as a beacon, but she ignores it easily. Gregory's put on some sort of YouTube video about customizing an animatronic.

She huffs in amusement, shimmying to get comfortable. She was already planning on distracting herself with the TV, why not do it with a buddy?

Its silent, for a while. A comfortable silence. Shes glad that she can find contentment with Gregory with little words, even in their predicaments. The TV is the only thing keeping the apartment from being so silent you could hear a pin drop.

Every once in a while, Gregory's leg twitches, and she has to fight to not glance over. It's not good for her. She knows. It's why Gregory wears pants instead of shorts now. Every time she sees those three deep tunnel-like scars in Gregory's leg, all she can think about is how much it shouldn't have been him.

She doesnt know how to explain to him that she was scared. That she couldn't make herself do it. That she took advantage of how sure of himself and confident Gregory had been. How she let herself be weak and put him into the fray. How he had gotten hurt because of it.

Because of her.

It's only now that she realizes that shes failed in not falling into that hole she does every time she gets a look at those scars. They're like the opposite of Gregory's face scar. While the scar on his face represents how she succeeded, how he succeeded, how he freed her, how he stopped the long line of killings, all the scars on his leg remind her of is how she failed. How she failed to protect him. How she failed to take care of him. Of possibly the only family shes ever had.

Gregory notices. He always does. Even though on the outside, all that's changed is the wetness to Vanessa's eyes and the clench in her jaw.

He looks at her. Silently, she knows it's an invitation. It's a request.

She forces herself to look back. Even though her skin crawls. Even when her stomach churns with guilt. Even when she almost cant even stand to see the scar on his face that she associates with hope so often.

He conveys so much to her in one look when she meets his eyes. Like a silent conversation. Its not your fault He says. I dont blame you, so dont blame yourself.

It is, though. She conveys back, hands shaking. You should. Everyone should. I should have been stronger. I should have been better.

He doesnt say anything else. He just turns his attention back to the TV, grabbing her hand with his own and squeezing it enough to let her know he isn't letting go.

A disagreement. Is what Vanessa realizes this is. No, you're wrong. Hes saying. You're healing. We both are.

She takes another glance at the scar gel on the coffee table, and sighs out, relenting. Theyve had this conversation a million times. Enough for it to be second nature to reassure eachother.

Vanessa thinks shes like Gregory, in a way. His scars have healed, supposedly, but they haven't really. They still flare up. They still hurt. They still stand for something. They still are a mark of something that will never disappear. Not fully.

But its manageable. His scars have become less of a gaping hole and more of a reminder there once was one. It can be pushed to the back of his mind, a lot of the time. Sometimes, it's a minor inconvenience. Sometimes, like tonight, it flares back up. An old pain.

But that's what hes become to them, isnt he? A minor inconvenience. He no longer affects them day to day like he did before. He no longer hovers over them, ever present. He no longer has that affect on them he did before.

He became a distant memory. Something theyve learned to manage as something apart of their lives. Of theirs. They survived him. They have the marks to show for it. Theyve outlived him, and so have the wounds hes created.

Sometimes, on nights like these, it's hard to remind herself of how far theyve come. But they have. Theyve built a little life for themselves. With their hobbies and responsibilities and little family theyve made of themselves. It's a country mile compared to what Vanessa had thought only ten short months ago. When she couldnt imagine a life a week from then.

It's like shes heard Gregory say before; they survived, and they have the marks to show for it. A night or two or three spent on the couch at 4am because of a rough nights sleep, or old pain flaring up is nothing in the grand scheme of things.

Because she can hear Gregory snort at something funny the people on screen said, and she smiles herself just at the sound, and they're alright. Theyve carved a hole, jagged as can be, where he used to be in their lives, but they're working on filling it. No matter how patchwork it may be.

She wouldnt change her little family and her little life for the world, she decides. Her hand twitches in Gregory's own, and when she remembers she even has ahold of it, she squeezes.

"How about we treat ourselves to some ice cream?" Its the first thing Vanessa's said to Gregory all night, and he lights up like a Christmas tree quicker than Vanessa can even get up off the couch.

She gives him a look that says Stay down. Your leg hurts tonight., and he does. If not wiggling a bit.

"I want the big spoon. Kay?"

Vanessa chuckles, grabbing the carton straight out of the freezer and making sure to pick the appropriate utensil. "Alright. But I get to pick the next video, kay?"

Gregory nods, snatching the spoon straight from her hands. "Okay, room service. Just hurry up and sit down already."

Vanessa rolls her eyes, muttering "I could use the extra pay..."

"Yeah, sure. You're poor. Whatever. Can we watch the Sims?"

Vanessa's scoffs. Sitting back down on the couch and draping the shared throw blanket across her legs. "I get to pick the video, remember, pipsqueak? And pass the ice cream."

Gregory grumbles, setting the large carton in between their knees and getting a huge spoonful when Vanessa snatches the remote.

But despite her comments, she scrolls down to a recent search and puts on one of their favorite series of the Sims, shimmying to get comfortable.

She doesnt miss the way Gregory looks suprised, but neither acknowledge it. They just sit, content, smiles on their faces, stuffing their faces with ice cream.

The sun rises, eventually, and the tiredness feels more bearable when the birds are chirping faintly and the blue sky begins to peek through the blinds.

Its nights like these where she really becomes aware of how much theyve healed. Of how much he has been reduced to nothing but a phantom pain. A lingering inconvenience. Something ignoreable.

They defeated him. It continues to suprise her. Day after day. But they did.

They defeated him, and now, they'll outlive him.

And so will this little family theyve made for themselves.

Freddy eventually joins them in the living room, looking panicked. She and Gregory share a look. They both understand.

Okay, so maybe they still have some healing to do. That's apparent when Freddy tucks himself tightly on Gregory's other side after sitting down. But the idea feels a little easier with her family beside her.

ao3 link

#can you tell im obsessed with the fact that gregorys backpack is left abandoned and unzipped right by the vent leading to the mimic.#almost like it had been left in a hurry. the implications.#i got too carried away with what could come from the mimic scar with gregory and this happened #pandas writes #3 star fam #gregory and vanessa #ggy #dr rabbit #gregory #vanessa #oneshot #my fics

50 notes · View notes

undercoverpan · 1 year

Text

Jake Sully wasn't the best father. He could acknowledge his flaws and shortcomings just fine.

He saw his flaws in his sons too much. He was a damn skxawng who could forget that his sons were not soldiers, that they were their own person. He remembered the day he first held them, both of them, and wept with sheer joy and awe. They were small bundles of joy, innocent, who deserved more than he could give.

But he tried to reel himself back. Tried to not let worry consume him. Tried letting them have fun with their friends, adventure, all that teen stuff. Netayam, Lo'ak, Kiri, and even Tuk'tirey had their own issues. Granted, very few of them couldn't be solved by sitting down and having a heart to heart. He pats their heads and nuzzles them when they pile into a cuddling, tangled mess of limbs every night. He whispers soft praise, pressing possessive kisses to the tops of their heads.

There was one child always missing though.

Now in all fairness, Spider wasn't his. He was like a stray who his kids loved to play with. But he was just a kid, who didn't really have anyone. His hair was matted and smelt of rotting leaves and dirt, and he seemed to scurry on the edge of his vision. He knew the kid tended to avoid Neytiri like the plague, and for good reason. Neytiri would never go out of her way to cause harm, never to a child, but she'd never cared for him. She'd always been blaise about Spider getting hurt, leaving most of the medical work to the Scientists.

He also knew that Spider didn't have parents among the Scientists. The boy had people who taught him how to read and write, about flora and fauna, but no one who tucked him into bed every night. No one who sang him lullabies or cradled him when he had nightmares. No one who kissed his brow or made sure he was in bed every night.

And Jake was worse than a skxang. How could he think a literal child was capable of taking care of themselves on a planet that's actively trying to kill him? Where the people do not accept him?

Those were the thoughts running through his head when he read through a disturbingly detailed suicide plan, messily jotted down with sidenotes and bulletpoints in a journal hidden beneath Spiders bed. It wasn't even hidden that well, simply stuffed between some of the books he'd been given over the years. He'd expected entries about how beautiful the sky looked, or what kind of animal he'd seen that day, maybe even whatever mischief he got up to with Lo'ak and Kiri.

The sheer amount of planning made him sick. He'd written down every detail, down to the punctuation in the letters he'd leave them, and who would probably find his body.

There was something tightening in his chest. It was constricting his breathing.

His ears twitched when he heard footsteps approaching the room. He straightened himself, turning his head sharply towards the door. It opened to reveal Spider, whose face was one of shock and shame when he saw what he was holding. "What's this, buddy?" He asked. He tried to be gentle, but he couldn't help the tinge of hysteria that tainted his voice. Spider opened his mouth, then shut it tightly.

"What is this?" He asked again, stepping a bit towards the other. The boy seemed to step back. He held up the book towards Spider's face, his golden eyes trained on the smaller one. "What. Is. This?"

Spider looked at the ground. His skin was flushed, and his hands shook at his side. He swallowed hard. "It--it's nothing…" he offered, not knowing what answer could appease the Na'vi. That was, apparently, one the worst answers he could give. The man held his head in his hands, hunching over. He covered his face as he took careful breaths, knowing that now is not the time to get angry.

Spider had been taught the ways of Eywa. He couldn't feel her, not at all, but he'd been taught everything about her. Learned her songs, her dances, her everything. He knew how precious his life was to her, to him. All life was sacred on Pandora, from the animals they eat to the warriors that die in battle. And Spider planned on just taking his with a few pills? Had considered and mulled and went back and forth on the idea, and decided to go through with it? Had fully known he'd be leaving his friends behind with nothing but a letter explaining everything? That they would have to bury him?

"Nothing? Nothing?" He asked incredulously. He breathed in sharply. "Where are they? Where are the pills?" He demanded, and Spider seemed to snap out of whatever trance he was in before. He narrowed his eyes, which were glassy and tinged red, and crossed his arms across his chest. "Why do you care?" He asked, and Jake felt like he just punched him in the gut.

"Why do I care? What the hell do you mean, why do I care?" He couldn't help but raise his voice at the end. "Spider, I'm not gonna let you kill yourself." His voice was hard, like steel. "You're not sleeping in this room anymore. Not until I find the pills, or anything else you were planning on using." He tells him, with a voice that leaves no room for arguments. Still, Spider's reaction is indignant. "I'm keeping you on watch–", Spider sobbed, "--and you are always going to be with me or Norm." He gritted his teeth.

"That's not fair!" He cried, "I'm not a little kid, you can't do this!" The boy takes in shaky breaths, hiccuping as tears fall down his face. "You didn't care before, so why now?! Nothing's changed! You'd all be happier if I was dead!" And Jake's heart cracks, "I know Neytiri hates me! I know Kiri and Lo'ak only talk to me because the other kids don't like them! I know the Omaticaya wish I was dead! I know Eywha won't accept me! So why don't you just let me kill myself!" And then breaks.

The boy was crying now. Tears streamed endlessly down his face, and hiccups wracked his small frame. "That's not–, Spider, they don't–, Neytiri doesn't–," and he doesn't know what to say except that's not true. But he doesn't know what he can say or do to make Spider believe him. Part of him wants to grab Spider and strap him to his chest forever, so he'd never have the chance to hurt himself. Another part of him is so angry at himself. He'd seen the signs, should've recognized them, should've done something about them. But he didn't. And now this 16 year old wants to commit suicide.

"Spider, I see you. Kiri, Lo'ak, Netayam, Tuk, Neytiri, they see you. We're here for you. But you can't do this. Please, Spider." He begged. "Please, son. Tell me why you want to do this."

He's holding the boy tightly now. His head is pushed into the crook of neck, and he can feel the boy's body shake with how he cried. "They wanna send me to earth!" He admits, and Jake's broken heart freezes. "I don't wanna go there! I don't wanna leave you and Eywha, I don't wanna go where there's no ocean or forests! I don't wanna go to a dying planet!" He wails, and it pounds Jake's cold, broken heart into a fine powder.

"I won't let them. I'll never let them send you anywhere, okay?" He presses a kiss to his forehead, and Spider sniffles. "Promise?"

"Promise."

He held Spider until the boy fell asleep. His back is stained with tears, and his arms ache from how long he's been holding him, but he doesn't move. The boy needs his sleep, and he needs to figure out how he'll deal with those scientists.

Tw suicide plan, never going there

Thanks to @hyperfixatedfandomer for letting me use this prompt!! Dw i have more fics planned that hurt less!! Remember to take care of yourselves

Also Jake calling Spider son might seem manipulative, and I cant confirm that it isnt. But jake was too emotional to actively try to manipulate anyone

Also i wanted to add "Be mine! Be Kiri's! Be anyone's! But please, don't be dead!" But it didnt really fit in this fic and also it sounds a little romantic?? Which is ok because one of the fics involve romance

#spider socorro #suicide plan #im sorry #<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3 #jake sully

194 notes · View notes