#i just had to get some of the dark shit out so i don’t explode xoxo | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

nqify · 1 year

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ok, then here we go!

how about jake sully during heat? and maybe he not only can't keep his hands off of you, but when he's not touching you he can't help but jerk off right in front of you.

maybe he's just so unbearably horny that he starts to hump his pillows, the grass, your leg, his hands, or even touch himself during important meeting and has to be excused.

like he's just a needy soft!dom who is feverishly grinding on everything or tugging his thick cock in thoughts of you; poor bby can't even stop it 🥺🤭

had to make my first Jake sully fic with ur request ofc!!! AHHH!! this is so good!!!

heat. — jake sully ☆

Jake sully is the definition of needy!soft dom!! especially during heat!! this MF will find any excuse just to fuck you, like omg!! it’s a full moon we must fuck, or he made food without burning himself we must fuck!! he’s just so needy!!

so when his heat rolls around, omg get ready to be fucked and touch every single day. oh this fucker can not keep his hands off you.

lets just say, Jake starts to feel his heat coming on in an important meeting. during this meeting the only thing he could focus on was you, he’d be eye fucking you from across the room!!

his gaze was dark and lustful, his eyes were hooded and covered with little strings of hair. girl u are fucked!! you’d noticed, his posture straighten up, his arms all big and strong and his cock aching for you!! he will try everything and anything to get out of there. “baby, i need you now”

and now ur back is arched, pillow underneath you while jakes hands were gripping ur hips!! “f-fuck, pretty, this pussy f-feels so good!!”

this man would 100% get pussy drunk while he’s on heat. he’d be eating your pussy, tongue swirling around your clit while his fingers were spreading you out, “gimme more baby, want more of ur pussy, fuck so pretty for me” he loves u omg!! “such a pretty pussy baby, just for me right?? only me?? for daddy mm??” you’d be nodding, “wanna hear u say it, say this pretty pussy is mine, cmon, needa hear it” pussy is aching!!!

sometimes you’d be away from him, hunting for food or travelling with friends. you’d come home to this fucker humping the pillow, he’d be grinding, head thrown back while whines escaped his throat. “j-Jake??” this MF does not stop, he just looks at you and smirks, “aaahh, baby, daddy needs some help, you can help him right?? cmon be a good girl for me”

or whenever your away too long and you guys finally get into it, this fucker is so needy!! he’d be jerking off on top of you, “f-fuck needa cum, needa cum shit” but omg he was so hot. stroking his cock up and down to the sight of you?? pussy WET!!! “look at you baby, u want my cum?? u want daddy’s cum to make a mess of ur pussy?? yeah??”

now when he’s in heat bf will only do doggy style and missionary. he needs to have control over you when he’s in heat, or he’ll explode. this dude will have ur back arched and ur legs spread wide, gripping into ur tail for deeper thrusts.

“mmm, fuck pretty, look at this pussy, u need my cock don’t you?? u want daddy’s big cock to fill u up huh?” ur whining like PLS HELLO?? in doggy style this fucker is going deep!! like reaching every inch of u. bro is def hitting ur cervix. “yeah baby?? that feel good?? u like when daddy touches ur little special spot huh?”

now for missionary, oh boy. his veiny hand would be gripping your neck while the other was holding your waist. he’s pounding into you with everything that he’s got, “mmmm, my pretty girl likes this right?? fuck ur such a dirty slut for liking this” oh BOY!! “j-Jake!! need ur cum!!, pls fill me up daddy”

HELLO!! Breeding kink while on heat?? YEPYEP!! “yeah baby?? u want daddy’s cum? u want him to make u all full and stuffed right? yeah I can do that baby, just keep being a good girl for me” and oh my god HIS LOAD is THICK AND HEAVY!!! you could feel it in you and lord DO U LOVE IT!! and when he would see it pour out, “oh no baby, i gotta keep it in so u can have my babies!!” he’d just fuck it into you.

this dude has to be messy, spit and cum everywhere!!! you want a kiss? messy asf. he’s eating you out? messy asf. fucking ur pussy, MESSY ASF!! DEF has a spit kink!!!!!!

“cmon baby, open ur mouth for me, yeah that’s it, good girl” and BOOM SPIT!! cuz he’s on heat he feels some kind of control making you a mess

your drooling EVERYWHERE!!! and he’d make fun of u!!! “awe look at you, such a fucking whore and can’t keep herself clean can she?? she likes when daddy makes her all messy and dumb doesn’t she mm??” ur nodding bc DUH?? “uh uh babygirl, say it, say ur my dumb little slut” GIRL!!!!! “I-I’m ur dumb little s-slut!!” HSHFNJS

and ofc!!! when u guys are done he’d still keep his cock in you!! he loves having you so close, cock warming is def his fav thing to do. “baby, u still feel so warm” and omg “I love this pussy so so much”

#jake sully smut #jake sully x reader #jake sully x you #avatar way of water #avatar the way of water #avatar x reader #avatar #avatar smut #na’vi quaritch #miles quaritch x reader #miles quaritch smut #na’vi smut

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flowersandbigteeth · 10 months

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Hi hope you've had a lovely weekend.

How about a female human who suffers depression and anxiety, is visited by a vampire who initially meant to just drink her blood but ends up showing her that she has worth. he finds as they get very intimate that she's his mate

I like this idea! I have bipolar 1, so I get depressed a lot. The description in this is just how I experience depression, personally.

Vampire (Serge) x female reader with depression

Word Count: 4k

W: kidnapping, some talk of unaliving oneself, non sexual bath, sfw fluff

You splashed a handful of cold water on your face and gazed into the mirror. Your hair was a wreck and you had deep circles under your eyes. Objectively, you looked like shit. Sighing, you stared at your toothbrush. You should be brushing your teeth, getting ready for work, but you felt like complete trash and all you wanted to do was curl back up in bed.

You picked up your phone and dialed your job.

“Hey, Susan,” you said to your boss, “I think I’m coming down with something. I won’t be able to come in today.”

Susan snarled on the other end of the line.

“If you’re going to call out, you need to find someone else to cover your shift,” she snapped.

You groaned, rubbing your eyes.

“Yeah, whatever,” you said, then hung up the phone.

Scrolling through your contact list a few times, wondering who to call, you eventually just gave up. Fuck it. Who cares if I get fired? I hate that job anyway. It wasn’t likely anyone was going to take your shift. They all hated their job as much as you. Fast food jobs were a dime a dozen, if you lost this one, you’d get hired across the street by someone else. You trudged back to your bed and curled up under the covers. In a few minutes you were fast asleep.

You woke with a start. Glancing out the window you could see it was dark outside. You’d slept all day. You checked your phone and there were ten calls from Susan and a string of angry text messages. Not bothering to read them, you tossed your phone on your pillow and dragged your feet to the kitchen. Opening the fridge you found some leftover chinese food one of your roommates had left. You knew he would be pissed you ate his food, but you couldn’t be bothered to care and grabbed the styrofoam box. Having not bought any of your own food for over a week, you had nothing else to eat.

Closing the refrigerator you screamed, tossing the Chinese food in the air and it exploded all over the floor, chicken landing on your bare foot.

“Who the fuck are you?” you gasped at the man standing in front of you.

He wasn’t anyone you recognized, incredibly tall with broad shoulders. His long hair was bone white and his eyes seemed to glow ice blue in the dark kitchen. You took in his beautiful face with utter confusion. You’d never seen someone so beautiful. Was he one of your roommates' friends? You’d thought you were alone in the house. Maybe he was a hookup making an exit, but he was far more handsome than any of your roommates usual partners.

He smiled at you, revealing straight, white teeth framed by pointy fangs, and a hand reached out running two fingers along your jaw.

“Aren’t you a pretty little trinket?” he murmured, his eyes raking over your body. His voice was lilting and deep, his words touched by a slight accent.

Your brow drew and you pulled away from him.

“Who are you? What are you doing here?” you snapped, then, “what’s up with your eyes…and your teeth? Are you a cosplayer?”

It was bizarre that a cosplayer would be in your kitchen at 11 o’clock at night, but you couldn’t come up with any other explanation. He was wearing a long black trench coat, with a loose white shirt underneath. It was only buttoned halfway up his chest, revealing the hard planes of his muscles and a gold necklace. He stared at you for a second before bursting into a roll of laughter.

“I don’t dress up and play pretend,” he said, still chuckling a little and putting a hand in the pocket of his trim slacks.

He leaned casually against the fridge, looking down.

“I’m sorry I spoiled your dinner,” he said, “but it’s only fair, you spoiled mine.”

You frowned at him.

“Was the Chinese food yours?” you asked.

He grinned, his fangs glinting in the low light. Again, he reached out to touch you, this time stroking your cheek.

“No, I had something else in mind,” he purred, his glowing eyes brightening.

“Oh…well sorry,” you grumbled, pulling away. “I guess no dinner for both of us. Make sure you lock the door on your way out.”

You turned on your heels and marched back to your room, intending to text your roommate and ask him to get his hookups to leave when he did. You didn’t like random weirdos lurking around in the dark. You opened the door to your room and screamed again, jumping a foot in the air.

The man stood in front of you, as if he’d materialized like magic.

“How…?” you gasped, your heart pounding, “how did you do that…you were just…”

You stammered, your mind blown. That was impossible. He couldn’t have gotten to your room that fast.

He laughed again, tipping his head to the side to look at you. You blinked your eyes rapidly, wondering if this was some kind depression induced hallucination. Your parents had told you to go to the doctor to get a prescription to help with your mental illness and you’d brushed their recommendations away. Everytime you’d try to pick up the phone and make an appointment, you’d be overcome with anxiety and never manage to make the call. Now you wondered if that had been a big mistake. You were obviously losing it.

You carefully stepped forward, placing your hand on his chest, checking that he was real. He seemed solid enough. You patted his shoulders and then his sharp jaw.

“You’re real,” you murmured, pulling your hands away, “what the fuck?”

You squealed as he grabbed you by the arm, pulling you further into the room and shut the door behind you.

“What do you think you’re doing?” you screamed. “Let me go!”

He sat elegantly on your bed, putting you in his lap.

“I let you touch me. It’s only fair I can touch you,” he informed you.

You tried to scramble out of his lap, but he was inhumanly strong, holding you still while he studied your face.

“What are you?” you hissed.

“Isn’t it obvious?” he asked. “I’m a vampire.”

Your eyes widened at him. He was clearly a nut job. You thought you were crazy, but this home intruder thought he was a vampire! Sure he mysteriously appeared in front of you, but a vampire? You just couldn’t believe it.

“Look if you’re going to murder me to fulfill your weird fantasy, just be quick about it,” you sighed, slumping in his arms. “And delete my browser history before the police come. My password is Pandabear.”

He laughed, before his chuckles died and he frowned at you.

“You’re serious…” he murmured.

You shrugged.

“I don’t have much else going on…” you admitted. “Being killed by a cosplaying psycho will at least be a good story. Maybe I’ll make the news. That’s about all I’ve got to contribute to society.”

His eyebrows lifted and he looked at you thoughtfully.

“How did this happen?” he said softly. “I’ve never met a victim more willing to die.”

Since he all but confirmed he planned on killing you, you squeezed your eyes shut and took a deep breath.

“Okay…I’m ready…do it,” you said, feeling a little relieved.

Finally this miserable life you had would end.

You held your eyes shut for what felt like forever, but when nothing happened you popped one eye open and looked at him. He was smirking, his eerie eyes moving over your face.

“What are you waiting on?” you pouted. “Did you forget your knife or something? We’ve got some in the kitchen.”

His brow drew and he looked at you like you were the crazy person.

“I assure you, trinket, if I wanted to kill you I wouldn’t need a knife,” he said, “but that’s no longer my intention. You’re much too precious to be food.”

Wilting, you sighed. You were so useless a psycho killer didn’t even want to do his thing with you. How pathetic was that?

“Well what do you intend to do with me, then?” you snapped a little offended you weren’t even good enough to murder, though you knew it was to be expected, “and what’s your name anyway?”

He looked at you, running his thumb over your cheek, thinking.

“My name is Serge. First, I’m going to get a snack, then I’m going to get you cleaned up,” he decided. “You haven’t been taking proper care of yourself. We’re going to fix that. No pet of mine will look so…unkempt.”

“Pet?” you repeated, but you didn’t have much time to think about it because suddenly you weren’t and then you were.

In a blink of an eye, you were standing in an alley, somewhere in the city. You lifted one bare foot, wrinkling your nose that your skin was touching god knows what on the ground.

“What the-” you started to say, but the vampire shushed you.

“Quiet, trinket,” he murmured. “You’ll scare off my prey.”

People passed down the larger street and when the vampire found one he liked, you watched him prowl towards the man. He’d dropped something and was bending down to pick it up. When his head rose, he looked at Serge, confused.

“Can I help you?” he asked.

Serge put his arm over his shoulder, pulling his face so their gazes aligned.

“Come with me, handsome,” he purred and the man followed him like a lamb to slaughter into the dark alley.

He pushed him against the cold brick, his nose just barely grazing the man’s neck as if they were lovers. At first you drew your brow thinking you were simply going to watch Serge make out with some random guy, but that misguided thought was quickly corrected.

His mouth opened and the fangs that already looked sharp and pointy to you, got longer and pointier before they sank into his neck. You squeaked, covering your mouth with your hands so you didn’t cry out. He drank and drank, until the man went completely limp and flopped to the ground like a rag doll. Your eyes had to be as wide as dinner plates as you stared at Serge.

“You’re…you’re…a,” you gasped. “You ate him!”

Serge sauntered back to you, licking the red stain from his lips.

“I drank his blood,” he corrected, wrinkling his elegant nose. “Vampires do not eat flesh like filthy wolves.”

He let out a satisfied sigh.

“Now that I’m feeling full,” he said, looking down at you. “It’s time to get you clean.”

You turned to run, instinctively, but it was no use. Serge scooped you up in his arms and disappeared you again.

When you blinked this time, you were in a pretty bathroom. It was all white with a large claw foot tub in the middle of the room. The cabinets and sinks had a vintage look to them and fresh flowers were arranged on a couple of side tables. You’d never been in a room so expensive looking, even at a hotel.

Serge set you on a plush chair and pulled off his heavy coat, before rolling up his sleeves and setting to work on filling the bathtub. You couldn’t help glancing at his perfect ass as he bent over to add soap and some kind of fragrant salt to the water. It was impossible not to tremble in his presence. He filled up so much space with his broad body and confident personality, but of course he was confident, he was a predator and you were just prey.

When he seemed satisfied he turned to you, looking you up and down.

“Strip,” he ordered and your cheeks burned.

“Can you give me some privacy?” you asked and he let out a little bark of a laugh, approaching you with determined, even steps.

“I don’t ask for anything twice,” he informed you, jerking your shirt over your head. “It’s best you learn that now.”

You scrambled to hold onto your pajama pants, but you were laughably weak compared to his strong, ivory fingers. He snatched them off of you easily, along with the panties you were wearing. Your heart stuttered in your chest as he looked you over, though he didn’t leer. His look was pure appreciation, as though you were some pretty piece of art.

He picked you up and deposited you gently in the warm bath water.

“Under my roof you will bathe every day,” he said, applying soap to a soft loofah and picking your arm up out of the water and scrubbing it clean.

“I can do it myself,” you hissed, trying to steal the loofah from him, but he held it above his head so you couldn’t reach.

“You haven’t been,” he challenged. “If you could do it yourself, you would have. I will do it for you since it seems you can’t.”

You had to admit he was right. Gathering the energy to take care of yourself felt like an impossible task. He continued scrubbing you, your arms first and then your legs.

“I’m just depressed,” you mumbled as he focused on his task. He examined each part of you like he was memorizing every freckle and scar.

“Sometimes it’s hard to get the energy to do anything.”

His blue eyes flicked up to yours and a small smile played on his lips.

“Then I’ll have plenty of opportunities to clean you,” he said, then his lips twisted in thought. “We’ll have to do something about your depression. I take very good care of my possessions. Whenever you have a problem we will address it promptly, do you understand?”

You narrowed your eyes at him.

“Why are you doing all this if you aren’t going to eat me?” you asked.

It made no sense. You were just normal, boring you. Most days you couldn't even get out of bed and when you did manage to rally and get dressed you hardly even brushed your teeth. Why would a beautiful vampire want anything from you? Why would he lower himself to bother to meticulously clean you by hand?

“Because you’re mine,” he answered without looking up.

When he’d managed to clean your front and back, he grabbed a small pouch filled with nail tools from one of the cabinets and set to cleaning your nails. He diligently trimmed and shaped each one, humming to himself a tune that sounded ancient. You’d never been so pampered in your life. By the time he got to washing and detangling your hair, you were practically melting into his hands. Happy with his work he scooped you out of the bath and wrapped you in a fluffy towel, scooting you towards the sink and unwrapping a fresh toothbrush he pulled from the cabinet drawer.

“Do I have to do this part for you?” he asked, raising a questioning eyebrow.

Your ears burning, you grabbed the toothbrush from his hand and got to work under his careful supervision. You knew it was silly to have someone watching you brush your teeth, but there was also a bit of relief there. Most days it was so hard to build yourself up to do anything. Though you were apprehensive, Serge’s careful coaxing made it a little easier.

When he was happy you were as clean and neat as you could possibly be you were shuffled into a large bedroom. You jumped, finding another person standing there. He was very handsome, though not quite as striking as Serge, with silver, almost blue hair and dark eyes.

“Good evening, Master,” he said, then looked at you. “Miss.”

Serg let out an audible growl.

“Do not raise your eyes to her,” he snapped and his servant immediately looked down.

“This is Jules,” he said, waving generally in the man’s direction. “If you need anything you can ask him, but I’d rather you ask me.”

You looked up at Serge and drew your brow.

“I’m confused as to what is happening here,” you said. “You say I’m yours, but…I don’t know what that means. You kidnapped me from my home…You have someone waiting on me…I don’t understand.”

He gave you a patient smile, tipping his head to the side and running his fingertip over your collarbone, making you shudder.

“You,” he said, poking your nose, “are to be my little mate, trinket.”

You blinked at him, still confused.

“Like…pals?” you asked and he erupted into laughter.

“You’ll understand soon enough,” he said between chuckles, but did not elaborate.

Instead his eyes grew sharp and he looked at Jules.

“Bring my mate clothes befitting her station,” he said and Jules gave a curt nod before disappearing.

You let out a little gasp that he disappeared so abruptly.

“He’s a vampire, too?” you asked.

Serge nodded.

“Everyone here is a vampire,” he said, placing you on the bed and placing a chaste kiss on your forehead, “but there’s no reason to be frightened. I’m their sire. They cannot harm you.”

He rolled up his sleeve and to your horror bit his own wrist until his blood flowed, holding it out to you.

“Drink,” he said as it dripped slowly onto the towel you were wrapped in.

You looked up at him in horror.

“But…I can’t-”

You never finished your sentence, because he pressed his wrist to your lips and rubbed your throat like he was force feeding a stray puppy it’s medicine so you would swallow. It wasn’t that it tasted bad. It was a coppery and a bit sweet, but it was blood!

When he pulled away, he licked the spot on his wrist and the wound closed. Then he licked the bit of blood that was dribbling down your cheek. Your skin heated at the intimate contact and your breath felt short in your lungs.

“Wh-why?” you stammered.

He carried you to the little vanity in the room, seating you at the chair.

“My blood is good for you,” he said and looking at yourself, you let out a little peep.

Your cheeks, which had been hollow from being too tired to eat, were suddenly plump and glowing with a dewy radiance. The dark rings under your eyes were gone and replaced with supple skin. Even your hair appeared thicker and shinier. Still you were frightened.

“Am- Am I going to become a vampire?” you asked.

He shook his head, twirling a bit of your hair around his finger.

“No, not yet,” he said. “But my blood has restorative properties. It will also help even out your brain chemicals until we can have you seen by a proper human doctor.”

Your eyebrows flew up. Vampire blood helped with depression? And what did he mean by not yet? Despite your misgivings, you did feel a bit energized, though whether it was because of his blood or adrenaline you couldn’t tell.

He stood behind you, his hands resting on your shoulders.

“Look at yourself,” he said, his voice reverent. “Look how beautiful you are.”

You squinted at yourself. Yes, Serge’s blood had given you a nice facial treatment, but you wouldn’t consider yourself beautiful.

“I’m…not though,” you whispered, your eyes getting a bit misty.

He frowned at you, suddenly at your side, jerking your face to look at him with a strong hand.

“Repeat after me,” he snarled. “I am beautiful.”

You paused for a moment, having a difficult time getting the words out.

“Since we’ve only just met, I’ll grant you some leniency, but remember if I have to ask twice you will not like your punishment. I’ll count to three,” he hissed, his icy blue eyes boring into you.

“One.”

You licked your lips, trying to will the words to come.

“Two.”

Your top teeth snagged your bottom lip, preventing you from speaking.

“Thre-”

“I’m beautiful!” you blurted out.

He smiled at you, his face pure predator.

“A wise choice, trinket,” he said. “You’ll tell me how beautiful you are before bed, every day until you believe it.”

His fingers on your cheek loosened and he cupped the curve of your face, leaning forward to breathe in the scent of soap on your skin.

“Of all the many treasures I have, you are the most precious,” he murmured into your neck.

Lightning bolts shot down your spine, making the ends of your nerves sparkle like the fourth of July.

“But…but…you don’t know me,” you stammered. “You don’t even know my name.”

He chuckled against your neck, placing a kiss on the place where it joined your shoulder.

“I’ve lived a very long life,” he said. “I know a good thing when I see it. We will have lots of time to get to know one another. For now just know that you are my little mate and you are safe under my wing. You’ll have all the luxuries you deserve. I’m going to teach you to be spoiled and insufferably self-assured.”

You were frozen under his touch, not sure if he was playing some kind of game with you. On what planet did a fatally handsome vampire make you his…mate? What did that even mean?

He suddenly scooped you up in his arms, making you squeak.

“You don’t believe me, stubborn little trinket,” he said. “Come, tell me what your mother christened you.”

“(Y/N),” you said quietly.

He looked down at you like a hungry cat.

“A perfect name for a perfect creature,” he mused, then looked up, marching out of the room. “Let’s start the spoiling with a proper meal. What’s your favorite restaurant? I’ll wake up the owner and the chef so they can cook you something special.”

“That’s ludicrous, Serge,” you gasped, but he only glared at you.

You remembered that he didn’t like to have to ask twice, so you hurriedly came up with an answer.

“Well…there’s this place I always wanted to go, but never had the money,” you admitted.

His face softened as he carried you down a sweeping, curved staircase.

“Come on…out with it,” he urged you.

“It’s called Say Cheese, it’s a grilled cheese bar,” you said. “They make twenty different kinds of grilled cheeses.”

He raised an eyebrow at you, before bursting into laughter.

“If my sweet trinket wants grilled cheese, that’s what you will get,” he said.

Your cheeks heated but you diffidently laid your head against his chest, surrendering to your fate.

#vampire x reader #vampire x human #vampire fluff #monster x reader #monster x human #monster fluff #yandere x reader #yandere x female reader #yandere fluff #male yandere #x reader #sfw monster fluff #sfw fluff

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jasmines-library · 4 months

Note

Hey!!! I love your writing and I want to request a Batfam where the reader (youngest sister) went into a coma and then wakes up after two months of many complications.

Sorry if the request sounds weird and unclear😅

Wait For You.

Summary: Whilst trying to protect your brother on a patrol, an explosive causes you to fall into a coma. Your brother stick by you through your recovery.

Warnings: Explosives, injury/blood, coma.

Word Count: 2k

⛤ BATFAM MASTERLIST ⛤

Things had gotten bad quickly. You and Tim were supposed to be out on an easy patrol. Gotham was quiet for once, so you and your older brother Tim decided to let your brothers have the night off for once. Oh boy was that a bad idea. You should have taken the unusual silence as a warning, as a huge red flag being waved right in front of your faces, but you were all too naive over the fact that patrol would be easy. But as soon as you had suited up and slipped out of your cave, shit hit the fan.

It started with two perfectly timed robberies on opposite sides of the city. You had to admit that you were slightly suspicious, but it wasn’t anything uncommon for a crime riddled city like Gotham and it was nothing you couldn’t handle, so you split off from your brother and went to deal promptly with the criminals before handing them off to the police to deal with. But then, as you were on the way to meet Tim, things got worse. The entire city lost power. One by one the street lights flickered off and the billboards shut down, plunging the city into complete darkness, besides the full moon that grinned down on the skyscrapers, but provided very little light to the ground.

“Red? You there?” You called out through the coms, hoping that the power outage hadn’t affected your signal.

There was a moment of gut-wrenching silence before the sound of his voice crackled through the static. The signal was compromised, but not enough so that the two of you couldn’t communicate with the rest of the cave. “I’m here. Where are you?”

“Near the Cauldron, making my way towards China Town.”

“Copy. I’ll meet you there, be careful Raven.”

“I’ll try.” You said, making your way through the derelict streets, heading towards the red bunting that hung above ChinaTown as another voice crackled through the coms.

“Patrol, this is Oracle. Can you hear us?”

You hummed.

“Good. We lost you for a moment when the power went out. What happened?”

“We’re not sure yet. I’m about to rendezvous with Red. We’ll see what we can find.”

“Alright. Stay on the line.”

“Copy.”

You rounded the corner where you saw Tim sprinting towards you. He gripped you tight and checked you over for any injuries.

“You okay?”

“Fine.” You nodded. “Any idea what happened?”

He shook his head. “No, but it can’t mean anything good. We were separated before this happened so this has definitely been planned. Someone is trying to separate us.”

“Yeah, but who?”

“I don’t know. We need to get looking and send for backup.”

“Oracle,” Tim voiced into his com “We’re gonna need some backup. Something’s definitely happening and we-”

A building to your left exploded, sending sparks of debris all around you with a plume of smoke.

“Raven run!” Tim yelled as more buildings began to collapse around you, forcing the two of you to run as fast as you could until you reached a small clearing and the sound of the explosions seemed to have stopped.

You skidded to a halt, trying to catch your breath and soothe the burn in your legs when you saw it. A small red light blinking rapidly just to Tim’s right. But he was facing the other way and there was no way he was going to see it and get out of the way. The light flashed faster and faster as you dove forwards, knocking your brother out of the way with a shout of his name.

You tackled him out of the way and onto the concrete just before the explosive detonated just inches away from where he was standing. The force of it sent the two of you flying across the asphalt. You let out a small scream that was cut short by the pain that radiated across your body; cuts and blistering burns that had managed to burn their way through parts of your suit before your head collided with the ground and everything went blank.

Tim hauled himself to his feet, scanning the ash filled sky and limping towards where he had seen your body get flung to. His heart stopped when he saw you laying bloody and unconscious on the ground.

“Raven!” He cried, picking up his pace and falling just short of your side. Crawling the rest of the way, he gripped your suit, noting the sticky red that seeped slowly into your hair. “No. No. Raven wake up.”

He patted your face urgently, but you did not stir; you lay limp in his arm, your head lolling on the ground as he tried to shake you awake. “No. Not like this, Raven come on!”

He was crying now, his tears leaving little trails where they had washed away all of the soot that had landed on his face. He placed his head to your chest to listen to your shallow breathing before hauling you onto his lap. He was injured too, and the motion hurt him greatly, but he brushed it aside as he clung to you. “Open your eyes Y/N! Please!” He sobbed.

“NO!” He nearly jumped out of his skin when someone lay a gloved hand on your shoulder, pulling you closer to his chest as his head whipped around. His eyes met the blue of Dicks domino mask.

“What happened!” He asked, alerted by the sight of your bloody frame lying limp in his brother's arms.

“Another explosion. She-” Tim couldn’t speak. It was like his body had forgotten how to function.

Dick nodded, grimacing slightly before calling to Jason over his shoulder. “Hood, call B. Get him to send emergency evac and tell him to prepare the medbay.

He nodded, pailing at the sight of you.

“Red, you need to let her go.” Dick told Tim.

“No.” He repeated. “No it’s my fault I can’t.”

“Timmy, we need to get her to help and we need to get you checked out too.”

He shook his head, clutching you closer.

“Robin.”

Damian made his way over, lifting his brother's arms away from you and holding him back as Dick lifted you carefully to rush you back to the cave.

You were still not awake.

Two months had slowly dragged by and you were still lifeless. You didn’t move; not even a twitch of a hand. You just lay there, your chest rising and falling steadily. If Tim, who refused to leave your side most of the time, could get the image of your fragile body out of his head, he might have thought you were sleeping.

Most of your wounds had healed well and all of your stitches had been removed recently, but your skin was still scarred and littered with a few bandages to cover the nasty burns, but for the most part your body had healed.

But then there were all of the tubes and the vigilantes honestly weren’t sure what was worse; seeing you covered in bandages, or seeing you hooked up to a network of tubes that were keeping you alive. Your IV rack sat next to your bed. They had moved you there not long after you had been treated. They knew how much you hated being in the hospital and Damian had insisted that they move you. He had even threatened to do it on his own if no one helped.

Most days, they all took turns to watch over you, anticipating anything. Dreading the worst. Jason was by your side after forcing Tim to finally shower and catch some sleep, telling him that you wouldn’t want him to waste away like he was. But Tim couldn’t help it. Guilt was eating him up from the inside out. It didn’t take long for them to figure out the cause of the explosions. The Joker and Penguin had allegedly teamed up to kill Batman and the vigilantes. It was their plan all along to separate the five of you so that you were easier to take out, so when you and Tim regrouped they changed their plan and resorted to explosives and you had pushed him out of the way because he was too stupid to notice that there was something behind him and now you were unresponsive. His brothers had tried to tell him otherwise, but he was stubborn and spent all of his time sitting next to you. Dick practically had to drag him out of your room to get him to go to sleep.

Jason was holding one of your hands and awkwardly flicking through a book with the other as he read to you. He tended to do that alot to pass the time and to bring some comfort. He honestly didn’t know if you could hear him or not but he read anyway.

It was then that you groaned and he dropped the book in a second. Leaning closer to you he could see that you were scrunching your face up slightly, bringing your eyebrows downwards.

“Little wing?” He whispered gently.

His heart leapt when he felt your fingers twitch ever so slightly under his and for a moment he thought that you were going to open your eyes but you stilled again. However after watching for a moment, Jason leapt out of his chair and ran downstairs to tell your family.

When he reached the cave, he was met by a very upset looking Tim and a frustrated Damian, who was trying to convince his older brother to go back to bed.

“Why the hell aren’t you with her?!” Tim snapped “You can’t just leave her on her own-”

“She moved.”

You could hear voices but you couldn’t see. Everything was dark but you could hear the familiar tones of their voices murmuring across the room. You urged your eyes to open, but they felt like they were glued shut and then taped over.

“Come on kid. You can do it.” You heard from somewhere.

You fought against yourself, willing for your eyes to open or for your body to move. And then your finger twitched. And then another.

“Did you see that!?” Damian exclaimed, pointing to your hand.

You then managed to move your head ever so slightly to the left, eliciting many excited gasps as your brothers crowded round, willing for you to wake up. Ever since Jason had seen you first move you had been making quick progress in your recovery. Your body began to respond to their touch or to their voice, but you had never seemingly moved on your own until now.

“Open your eyes, little wing. You can do it.” Tim. You knew without even seeing him.

Tim. You realised suddenly. He was okay.

And then you did it, you finally managed to crack your eyes open slightly only to be assaulted by the light. You blinked as you adjusted to it, the blurring figures in front of you finally coming into focus.

“There she is.” Dick smiled.

“Hey y/n/n.” Tim said. You noticed he was holding your hand and rubbing circles on the back of it with his thumb.

You moved your mouth to try and speak, but you struggled to form the words.

“Take your time.” Damian propted gently.

You tried again, managing to push a hoarse whisper out with a little smile. “Hi.”

The five of your brothers lit up with the biggest smiles that had in forever as they fussed over you, helping to ease you up and to pull you into their embrace. Glad to have their little sister back with them again.

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aphroditessaturn · 11 months

Text

𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐑𝐎𝐋 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐑 || 𝐌. 𝐎.

pairing || miguel o'hara x fem!reader (is a spider-woman, tho nothing specific)

summary || you have anger issues and it’s no secret to anyone in the Spider-Society, Miguel might as well be the only who can tame you. His methods are, quite effective…

warning || smut! p in vi, oral (female [fingering] and male receiving) throat fucking, nipple play, spanking if you squint

note || I had to get him out of my system and I'm not even done, this piece is for my anger issues and I need a Miguel to fuck them out of me. please reblog/comment and give feedback! I would love to know if you like my Miguel fics, I have so many more ideas

legend || mi luciérnaga = my firefly; abre la boca = open your mouth; buena niña = good girl; mocosa = brat; puta = whore; dios mío = my god; niña traviesa = naughty girl

BLOGS | WEBSITE | AO3 | WATTPAD | TAGLIST

“I do not have anger issues, who does he think he is?” you asked to no one in particular while walking around Miguel. He let out a sigh, pressing his fingertips against temples.

“He’s like what? 15, yeah you don’t say that to someone twice your age,” you continued, your blood pressure building up with every second you thought about the incident.

Miguel tried to be calm, but the last mission worked him up and scratched on his nerves. The mission went fairly well, except for you going ballistic and the newcomer – Miles – commenting on it. Oh, and the target almost escaping because of Miles which lead to all of this.

“Can’t fucking believe this, he was the reason the mission almost failed, and he dares to say I have anger issues!” the last part you nearly screamed. You never paused, always moving around.

You couldn’t stay calm, couldn’t calm down. Every vein beneath your skin run hot, some just waiting to explode.

Suddenly both of you heard someone coming near Miguel’s platform, said Spider turned around with a glare. He knew exactly who came and what would happen if you saw him, but now there was no preventing it.

You walked to the edge of the platform and looked down at Miles, “came to apologize?” you asked and crossed your arms over your chest.

Miles looked confused, no he wasn’t here to apologize, and he would make that clear, “you threatened me, screamed at me because I let the anomaly almost escape. You overreacted,” he stated.

Your eyes squinted together, expression hardening. “You can’t do a thing right and accuse me of having anger issues? I do not have fucking anger issues!”

Just as you were about lounge at Miles, arms wrapped around your waist, “enough,” Miguel’s deep voice rang through your ears. Normally his voice would smooth you, but you were already too gone.

Your man however ignored that and pushed you behind him.

“Miles, we will talk about this later. You made a mistake -,” “what, you’re saying she didn’t go bonkers?” Miles didn’t want to accept that what you did was right.

“If you’d let me finish, you would know that she will get her fair share of consequences,” Miguel snapped at the young boy, while it made a small part of Miles feel better it only angered you more.

“Are you serious? You let that little shit get away with saying I’m in the wrong? He lost the target and we had to-,” you couldn’t finish your sentence. “Miles, leave,” Miguel’s voice was dark and left no room for back talk, he sounded scary to be honest.

Miles immediately left, knowing it was better for now and he needed to get away from you.

“We weren’t finished yet,” you barked at Miguel who didn’t bat an eye. You stalked up to him, trying to intimidate him – unsuccessfully. “Yes, we were and it’s time you calm down, mocosa,” he whispered and grabbed your waist.

You were manhandled onto his desk, wrists held together in his right hand. With his left hand he ripped down your suit, “you asshole! Can’t you-,” “yeah mocosa, stop your whining,” Miguel rolled his eyes.

Without warning he pushed pointer and middle finger into your drenched cunt, you gasped. Realising with just a few words he had you wet and in your rage you didn’t even notice.

He curled his fingers against your walls, your head fell back. Right hand letting go of your wrists and sliding down to your neck.

Miguel moved his head into the crook of your neck, kissing along your carotid artery.

A shudder run down your spine when you felt his sharp teeth graze your skin. You adored the feeling of his teeth piercing your skin as it made you feel a kind of pleasure nothing else brought you.

Miguel had easily picked up on that all those years ago and now used it taunt you, “niña traviesa,” he commented with a small smirk.

His fingers kept a slow pace, it was torture and Miguel knew that. “Miguel,” you snapped, a plead for more however the man above you wasn’t having it. “You think you can be a mocosa and I’ll just give you what you want?”

“I wasn’t a brat! It’s not my fault your spider people can’t do their job and then-,” “dios mío,” again Miguel cut you off, picking up the pace.

Hitting that spongy spot inside you which pulled a loud moan from your lips. As his fingers worked their magic on brining you closer to your high, Miguel run his tongue along your earlobe and gently nibbled on your skin. With your hands free you threaded them through his beautiful hair

You closed your eyes, the feeling just too wonderful and for a moment you lost yourself but quickly Miguel reminded you that this was a punishment.

“Look. At. Me,” his voice deep, commanding. His hand was suddenly in your hair, gripping it tight as he pulled your head back. It was a way to underline his words.

You looked at him with pleading eyes, god you loved this side of him. Miguel would make you take whatever he gave you if you could or not – you were surprised with how much you could actually take.

“I’ve barley did anything and you’re already putty in my hands,” he teased, slowing his pace down again. You wanted to scoff at his words.

He didn’t do ‘barley anything’, he almost bit into your sensitive neck, rubbed his fingertips over you bundle of nerves and hit your g-spot with every thrust. Miguel very well knew that all those little things would send your body into overdrive.

“You know exactly what you did!” you spit at him and drew a low chuckle from him, it amused him how you kept pushing, “are you that much of a puta for me that you can’t shut up?” “Guess if you want me to shut up then you have to fuck my-,” “fine.” Miguel retrieved his fingers from your cunt pulling a whine from you.

Both hands gripped your middle, manhandling you down to your knees. He gripped your chin with his thumb and pointer finger tilting your head up to look deep into your eyes.

Then his suit slowly started to dissolve, starting by his neck, and revealing his naked, toned chest, his broad shoulders, and muscled arms. The light of the screens dipped Miguel into a dangerous red which made him look like the devil in person.

Now he was completely naked, his mushroom formed tip hitting his lower abdomen. “Abre la boca,” when you didn’t instantly comply Miguel slapped your cheek, causing you to gasp and open your mouth, “now,” he added.

His thumb moved between your lips and pressed onto your tongue to make you kept your mouth open, “you’re going to be a buena niña and suck my cock.”

You caved and let your mouth hang open, tongue already awaiting him. At first, he gently placed his tip on your tongue, giving you a chance to taste his salty precum. Then without warning he thrusted his cock full on into your mouth.

You gagged as it hit the back of your throat, Miguel looked down on you. There was still a part of him that didn’t fit inside your mouth, but it was his mission to make sure it did.

Miguel began fucking your face, abusing your throat with his harsh thrusts. You looked up at him with teary eyes, his head was tipped back in pleasure and a deep groan fell from his lips. You clenched your thighs together, you were a whore for Miguel as it was already but something that always got you were his moans.

Miguel was vocal, so fucking vocal. For one his mouth never stopped running, but then there were his moans. They were deep, hoarse, and loud.

However, your throat couldn’t keep up with his pace any longer, though you loved the feeling of getting used by him too much. Salvia dripped from the corner of your mouth, his cock twitched in your mouth which was his cue to pull away.

You whimpered pathetically, of course Miguel catched up on that and wiped your mouth with his thumb. “Such a cock slut already, just for me,” he stroked over your hair before kneeling down your level and hosting up into his arms. Your back hit his desk, legs dangling over the edge.

“What hermosa? No, smart comment?” Miguel teased with a smirk, you couldn’t say a word. Your throat hurt, no tone would come from your lips.

Miguel dipped his head down, teeth closing around your nipple while his right hand grabbed your breast. Massaging it as his tongue lapped on your nipple, causing you to whimper again. In response your man slapped your breast making you moan, “fuck,” your voice barely audible, throaty thanks to Miguel.

Switching sides he sucked on your right nipple, your hand coming up to grab his hair and pulling on his roots. “Ay, dios mío,” Miguel moaned, loudly.

He pinched your neglected nipple causing you to arch your back and a line of goosebumps to adorn your skin.

Suddenly you felt his tip stroke over your drenched entrance, distracted by his work on your breasts you hadn’t noticed immediately.

“Miguel,” you whispered and in the next moment he had plunged his huge cock into your cunt. A pained yet pleasurable moan left your body, loud and hoarse.

His cock was big, and thick, god even after all this years you needed time to adjust to his size. You could feel those veins, how he stretched you out. “Don’t fret mi luciérnaga, I’m not fully inside you yet,” Miguel whispered against your lips before kissing you.

You loved his kisses, they were full of fire and passion. Miguel kissed you like he owned you – he did, and it was one of your favourite things. His lips were so soft and warm, sliding over yours before his teeth bit into your bottom lip.

“After all those years and you’re still so tight,” he gushed and slowly pushed deeper inside you, lifting his head to look at you with a smirk.

“Feel that mi luciérnaga? Feel me deep inside your belly,” Miguel pressed his hand onto your stomach, feeling his tip bulge out, “am I too big for you?” he taunted.

You didn’t know what possesed you, but something did, “you wish,” you snapped. Miguel looked dumbfounded for a second before his expression turned into a glare, “guess my mocosa is back.”

He pulled out all the way before harshly pushing back in with his full length, cunt pulsing around him as he pounded into you without mercy. You couldn’t catch a break, he constantly hit your sensitive spot, “you like it, huh, like me fucking you like the puta you are,” aside from his cock pushing you into an abyss of pleasure, Miguel’s voice made you shiver.

It also didn’t help that he groaned uncontrollably, growling when you tightened around him. You were close, so fucking close and he knew it.

Miguel wrapped your legs tight around his waist to keep you close. His thrusts became harsher, and his thumb pressed down on your bundle of nerves, drawing hard circles.

His pace was animalistic, “look at you, mi luciérnaga already cock drunk. That’s what you need, someone to fuck all the anger out of you, fuck you dumb.” You couldn’t say anything, only unidentified words came past your lips.

Your high was near, it came and washed over you like a fresh shower, “mhm, come for me, buena niña,” Miguel only strengthened it.

“I’m not finished yet,” he stated and manhandled you, so your back was turned to him.

All the while still having his cock in your needy cunt and fucking you through your orgasm. His hands gripped your ass as he rutted into you, “Miguel,” you whined, holding onto his desk, “come on where’s your fire mi luciérnaga?” he slapped your ass.

You had nothing in you anymore, your head was completely empty. As much as would’ve wanted, you couldn’t. You just laid there, enjoying the pleasure, and taking everything Miguel gave you.

“Maldito infierno,” he cursed as he reached his orgasm, for a moment he stilled inside you and painted your velvet walls with his cum. Filling you up to the brim, not pulling out.

He slid his hand around you and pulled you against his broad chest, right hand wrapping around your throat like a necklace.

“How you feeling mi luciérnaga,” he whispered, softly stroking your sides while you closed your eyes.

“’m fine, Miggy,” you mused laying your head on his shoulders. Everything felt at peace, you were calm and had no issues with anything.

You could just lean against Miguel and he would take of you. He scooped you up and slowly pulled out to make sure he didn't hurt you, his cum leaking out of your cunt. A sight Miguel could never forget – one he didn't want to forget.

Miguel went to your universe, laying you into your bed and cleaning you up. Meanwhile you dazed around, until he joined you in bed.

"I don't have anger issues," you muttered into him as you cuddled up against him.

He covered you two with the blanket, "no, you don't," he agreed and pressed a kiss to the crown of your head. You were fast asleep, tired and spend while Miguel admired your beauty.

You have anger issues, always will but Miguel knew an affective method to control them. Add to that he loved your fire, needed it.

And Miles did fuck up.

please reblog/comment and give feedback! I would love to know if you like my Miguel fics, I have so many more ideas

BLOGS | WEBSITE | AO3 | WATTPAD | TAGLIST

#miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara smut #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara one shot #miguel o'hara fanfiction #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara x spiderwoman!reader #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel o'hara fic

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steddiehyperfixation · 6 months

Text

don't you forget about me (part three)

(part one)(part two)

Everyone’s left to “let him get some rest,” but Eddie doesn’t rest, not really. Although he does drift off the second he closes his eyes, his sleep is not restful and his dreams are plagued:

Chrissy Cunningham stood in his trailer, small blonde girl in her cheerleader uniform. If Eddie hadn’t only just come out of his room with an unopened baggie of ketamine, he might’ve thought she’d already overdosed. Her eyes were rolled back, body frozen stiff like she was having some sort of seizure. Eddie shouted at her, shook her shoulders, waved his hands and snapped his fingers in front of her face, but Chrissy didn’t respond. He feared she might collapse, but then she did something much, much worse: she began to levitate.

Eddie immediately let go of her shoulders and scrambled back as some invisible force slammed the girl into the ceiling. Her bones snapped; one at a time, her arms and legs twisted in unnatural angles. Her jaw unhinged and cracked out of place, her mouth now stuck in a horrible, soundless scream. Her eyes bled, dripping red down her cheeks, and then they exploded, popped with a sickening squelching sound, and her eyelids caved in to empty, bloody sockets.

Eddie wakes up screaming. His heart pounds frantically, the monitor beeping like crazy, and all his muscles are tense like he’s ready to run.

Someone is at his side immediately; a gentle hand slips into his own, a soothing voice asks if he’s alright and tells him it’s okay, he’s safe now, it was just a nightmare. Eddie recognizes that hand, that voice, that shape in the dark. When did Harrington come back?

Eddie’s gasping, struggling to inhale a proper breath into his fear-frozen lungs. His wild eyes dart over the figure sitting beside him before landing on the hand that’s curled around his. Harrington must misread something in his expression then, because he mutters, “Sorry,” and starts to pull his hand away.

“No,” Eddie manages, instantly grabbing the other’s hand again and gripping it tight. “Keep- keep holding onto me.”

“Always,” Harrington whispers, the word an exhale under his breath, so soft Eddie thinks he may have imagined it.

Harrington rubs his thumb over the back of Eddie’s hand. His touch is calming, grounding. Eddie’s breath begins to even out and his heart returns to a normal pace as his residual panic slowly dissipates.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” he sighs heavily once he’s recovered a bit. He presses his free hand to his chest. “That was the most terrifying dream I’ve ever had in my life.”

“It’s over now,” Harrington says, still soft, still tracing circles across Eddie’s skin. “Whatever it was, it can’t hurt you anymore.”

But it can, because Eddie can still see those horrible images behind his eyelids every time he blinks. He says so, shakily, “Think it's burned into my brain now, though. It was so real, man, I’m not sure I’ll ever get her disfigured face and mangled body out of my head.”

Harrington pauses. “Wait a second, did you dream about Chrissy?”

“Yeah, how did you-?” Eddie starts to ask, then stops as he remembers what Harrington had said yesterday about Chrissy being murdered in his trailer. The realization sets in with a cold chill. He shakes his head in horror, tightening his hold on Harrington’s hand like it's a lifeline. “No. Oh no, please don't tell me that actually happened.”

“It did. I’m sorry, it did.” Harrington clasps Eddie’s hand in both of his now. “That wasn’t just a nightmare, Ed, that was a memory. You’re starting to remember.”

“Well, shit,” Eddie mutters. If that’s what his lost memories are like, he thinks he’d very much rather them stay forgotten. “I’m starting to see why my brain blocked it all out in the first place, then. Was the whole rest of the last 11 months that awful too?”

“No…” Harrington frowns and that kicked puppy look flashes across his face, darkening the spark of hope that had just flickered in it before. “Well, maybe, I don’t know. I hope not.”

“Great,” Eddie sighs, tired and sarcastic. He stares up at the ceiling where the gnarled ghost of Chrissy’s corpse still haunts his vision. “Can’t wait to remember more.”

“I’m sorry,” Harrington says quietly. A heavy sadness runs thick in his voice again, same way he’d spoken when he first learned of Eddie’s amnesia. He squeezes Eddie’s hand once and then lets go.

So much for always, Eddie thinks dimly. His hand feels cold now, naked and untethered without the solid pressure of Steve’s fingers curled around it.

“You should try to go back to sleep,” Harrington tells him. The mattress shifts, the springs creak, as he rises from where he’d been perched at the edge of the bed. In the empty space he leaves behind, Eddie only feels even more untethered.

A sharp rush of panic grips him at the thought of being left here alone in the dark with the twisting shadows and afterimages of his nightmare. “Wait, Steve,” Eddie calls out immediately, before Harrington can even begin to turn away from him. “Will you stay?”

“Yeah.” Harrington nods, murmurs, “I’ll stay.”

So Steve stays. He stays and he sits in the stiff chair by Eddie’s bed, and he spirals. Of course he spirals, in the silence, in the dark. He can’t seem to do anything else in Eddie’s presence lately but let his mind spin around in circles ‘til it breaks.

Was the whole rest of the last 11 months that awful too? Eddie’s previous question is the catalyst of his spiral this time, the words that are currently echoing in the whirlpool of Steve’s consciousness, because he hadn’t thought of that before. He has already wallowed in the idea that he was something so unimportant he was easy to erase, but Steve hadn’t yet considered the possibility that he was something so horrible he needed to be erased. It makes sense, though, doesn’t it? The nurse did say Eddie’s amnesia was in part due to psychological trauma, and his memories do end just before he and Steve properly met. Was being with Steve so awful Eddie’s mind lumped it in with all the other recent traumas and just had to wipe it away?

An ugly guilt twists beneath his skin, like a deep rot running black in his veins. Steve curls his hand into a fist in his lap, digs his fingernails into his palm as if the sharp bites of pain will help release what is dark and decayed inside of him. As if it will choke the voice in the hollow behind his heart that now tells him he deserved to lose Eddie’s love, or that maybe he never truly had it in the first place.

And, see, Steve knows he’s spiraling. He knows his brain has just tripped down some bullshit rabbit hole of self-deprecation and that really his despairing conclusions are not in any way rooted in reality. He knows Eddie loved him. He knows Eddie’s amnesia is not his own fault nor is it a reflection on him. He knows it’s got nothing to fucking do with him. Yet nonetheless, his mind continues to tumble downwards on a quest to prove the opposite. The rot still festers; the hollow still whispers.

“Hey, Steve?” Eddie’s soft-spoken words eventually cut through the quiet and shake Steve from his lamenting thoughts.

He sits forward. “Yeah?”

“I can’t sleep,” Eddie says. “Do you, uh- sorry, could you…maybe hold my hand again?” His voice is small like he’s asking for something embarrassing, and his hesitancy kind of breaks Steve’s heart. “Just until I fall back asleep. It just- it makes me feel safer.”

“Yeah, of course.” Steve scoots his chair closer to the bed and gently takes hold of Eddie’s hand again.

Eddie sighs, a heavy exhale of relief, his body beginning to relax almost immediately. He squeezes Steve’s hand. “Thanks,” he mumbles.

“Anytime,” Steve whispers in response. Always, forever, anything; because I love you, want you, need you, miss you. He swallows down the emotion that rises in his chest. Another spiral threatens to drown his mind again and he fights that off too, tries not to think about everything that fucking hurts.

He focuses on the familiar feeling of Eddie’s hand in his (it’s bittersweet; he’s not thinking about it), on watching the steady rise and fall of Eddie’s chest as he slips back into a more peaceful sleep (he wants to kiss his forehead, tuck him in like a child; he’s not thinking about it).

Steve leaves first thing in the morning. The second Wayne walks in and Eddie now has someone else there to watch over him, Steve tells the older man briefly about Eddie’s nightmare and then he’s out the door before Eddie even wakes up, and he doesn’t return that day.

He can convince himself, illogically, that it’s better for Eddie if he stays away - that Steve’s spiral was right and he’d only make Eddie uncomfortable in the daylight; the less he’s around, the less the rot inside of him can poison Eddie too. But also it’s selfish. Mostly it’s selfish. Because as much as Steve craves to be near him, it hurts far more to be around him and not be seen, not be known, not be loved. The ache of missing him when they’re apart is so much easier to bear than the ache of missing him when he’s right in front of him.

Still, Steve does come back that night. He doesn’t want Eddie to be alone, and with Wayne working graveyard shifts and everyone else having parents to answer to, Steve is the only one left who’s both willing and able to sit with him through the night. He has a feeling, just a feeling, same as he’d had the night before, that Eddie might need him again. Well- maybe not him specifically, but just someone, anyone, to comfort him in the dark, and Steve can be that someone. And maybe that’s selfish too, because it feels good, eases the ache a bit, to be the one to help Eddie, to take care of him. If Steve cannot be loved then he will settle for being needed.

Good for them both, then, that Eddie does end up needing Steve that night. Eddie jolts awake from another nightmare memory - this one about being chased onto the lake by Jason Carver and watching another body float above the water and be crumpled and killed by Vecna - and Steve is there once more to hold his hand and soothe him back to sleep.

And then, again, Steve is gone the next morning, back the next night. Such is the pattern he’s fallen into, the selfish, stupid pattern: gone when he cannot feel loved, back when he can feel needed.

Tonight is the worst nightmare yet. Steve can tell it’s bad even before Eddie wakes. The heart monitor begins to beep more rapidly, Eddie whimpers and twitches in his sleep. Steve grabs Eddie’s hand and tries to ease the nightmare before it worsens, though to no avail.

Eddie doesn’t wake up screaming this time, but choking and crying, rasping through hyperventilating breaths fragmented nonsense about bats and pain and death. He doesn’t seem to be completely aware or lucid right now, still stuck in his nightmare where he’s dying and he’s scared, so scared.

“Shh, Eddie, it’s okay. You’re okay.” Steve can’t stand to see him like this. Holding his hand isn’t enough. “C’mere,” he murmurs. “You’re alright.” He doesn’t even think, just climbs onto the bed with him and very very carefully, very very gently, sits them both up and pulls Eddie onto his chest, wrapping his arms around him and holding him close. “You’re alright,” Steve continues to whisper softly, lips brushing against Eddie’s hair. “Just breathe, baby, it’s okay.” (The pet name just slips out; neither of them notice.)

Eddie clutches Steve’s arms, leans back against his chest and tucks his face into the curve of Steve’s neck. He’s trembling, breath still rapid and panicked, not yet free of the waking dream he’s trapped in. “I died- I’m dead- I was dead,” Eddie keeps babbling in shaky, sobbing gasps. “It hurts- and I died. I don’t- I don’t wanna die- I don’t-”

“You’re not dying, Eddie, you’re not. You’re okay,” Steve reassures him. “You’re alive.” He gently pries one of Eddie’s hands off his arm and guides it to the boy’s chest, covering his hand with his own as he presses it over Eddie’s heart to give proof to his words. “Do you feel that? You’re alive, you’re so alive.”

Eddie sucks in a deep breath, lets out a tremulous exhale. “I’m alive,” he repeats, his voice wavering like he’s trying to convince himself of something he doesn’t quite believe.

“Yeah,” Steve confirms, still holding his hand over Eddie’s slowly steadying heartbeat. “You’re alive.”

Eddie repeats it again, a little more solidly this time. “Okay,” he breathes out. “Okay, I’m okay.” His hyperventilating has finally begun to ease, his tremors gradually dissipating. He seems to wake up a bit more now, settles back into reality. He rolls his face out of the crook of Steve’s neck and tilts his head up to rest it against his shoulder instead as he looks at him. “Steve,” Eddie says, not like a question or the beginning of a sentence, but more like he’s only just now becoming aware of who’s holding him.

Steve gives a small hum of confirmation in response. He doesn’t know if Eddie is going to want him to move now, if the way they’re situated is uncomfortable for him or if Eddie is even okay with this situation at all. Steve can’t tell. He should’ve thought of that first. Holding his hand is one thing, but pulling Eddie half on top of him and holding him there is another thing entirely. And Eddie doesn’t know him anymore. Steve wouldn’t blame the guy if he freaked out at coming out of a panic attack to find himself in some strange man’s arms.

But Eddie just closes his eyes, goes quiet and still for a few long moments, and so Steve stays where he is, assumes Eddie’s trying to go back to sleep. Steve will keep holding him until then.

“Why are you always here at night?” Eddie asks suddenly, opening his eyes again. So he’s not trying to go back to sleep.

The question catches Steve off guard, and not just because he hadn’t expected Eddie to speak again. “I, uh, I don’t want you to be alone- you know, with your nightmares.”

“No, yeah, I know, and I-I’m grateful for that, but,” Eddie clarifies, “I meant, why are you always only here at night? I know you’re around during the day, dropping off one of the kids or Robin or whatever, you just don’t come in. Like- you’ll hold me through a nightmare, but you won’t actually hang out with me and just, like, eat shitty hospital food and watch shitty hospital TV with me. What’s up with that?” Eddie looks up at him. His tone is light enough, but there’s a genuine curiosity in his eyes, and a confusion that borders on hurt. “Thought we were supposed to be friends, Harrington.”

“We are,” Steve says immediately. “We are friends. I just- I didn’t want to force that on you or-or make you uncomfortable or awkward or anything. I know you don’t know me anymore.”

“Well, you haven’t given me much of a chance to get to know you again,” Eddie states plainly, and that catches Steve off guard too.

“I didn’t know you wanted to.”

“Of course I want to,” Eddie mutters. “You’re a decent guy, Stevie. Not how I thought you’d be. Maybe I want you to keep surprising me.”

The way one corner of his mouth quirks up then, popping a dimple in his cheek, makes Steve’s heart stutter, chest warm with a rush of affection. He can’t help but smile a little too. “Okay.”

“Okay,” Eddie echoes, smirk stretching into a proper grin now. He taps his fingers where they rest on Steve’s arm. “You better hang out with me tomorrow.”

“I will,” Steve agrees, because how can he say no to a smile like that? “Promise.”

Satisfied, Eddie closes his eyes and settles back to try and fall asleep again. A lingering fear still runs like an undercurrent beneath his veins though, scared of sleep and dreading the possibility of another nightmare, another memory. He shifts, pulls Steve’s arms a little tighter around him. Eddie never seems to have bad dreams once Steve is holding onto him.

(part four) taglist: @romanticdestruction @daydreamsandcrashingwaves @paintsplatteredandimperfect @hallucinatedjosten @mugloversonly @estrellami-1 @alongcomesaspider @thatonebadideapanda @tell-me-a-secret-a-nice-one @dragonmama76 @wxrmland @nuggies4life @sirsnacksalot @myguiltyartpleasure @lolawonsstuff @marklee-blackmore @vinteraltus @sebastiansstanswhore @0happyeverafter0 @scarlet-malfoy @hotluncheddie @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @emsgoodthinkin @alyelf @warlordess @stevesbipanic @lil-gremlin-things @rockandrolodex @badcaseofcasey @bat-outta-hel @fandomcartographer @manda-panda-monium @littlewildflowerkitten @giopandaonice @mightbeasleep @queenie-ofthe-void @krazyperson @worldofshea @marvel-ous-m @tartarusknight @a-little-unsteddie @xenon-demon @goodolefashionedloverboi @xxsky-shockxx @mc-i-r @bookbinderbitch @aspenshade88 @slowandsteddie @thedragonsaunt @daydreaming-mood @space-invading-pigeon @irregular-child @a-lovely-craziness (i have hit my limit on amount of people i can tag in one post; taglist will be continued in replies. please lmk if you'd like to be removed from this list. no longer accepting any more additions atm!! also, thank you guys so much for all the support on this so far omg??? this is insane for me and i'm so glad y'all are enjoying my writing <3)

#progress progress progress #steddie #steddie angst #steddie fic #steddie fanfiction #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #fanfic #mine #dyfamsteddiefic #<- specific tag for this fic

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cherry-leclerc · 2 months

Text

method acting ☆ cl16

genre: series, angst, yearning, reminiscent

word count: 3k

cherry here!...you guys, this is it! while i am sad to see it end, i am also so happy for those who tagged along and read this little mini series; i love you all. and so i ask: can i break your heart one last time?

ch. one ch. two ch. three ch. four ch. five ch. six

Chapter 6

Life, as you fear, is falling apart as you're confronted with a serious case of writer's block that puts your career on the line. As a solution, you're roommate helps you plan a solo trip to the Amalfi Coast for a much needed break but it doesn't take long for you to meet a certain Monegasque who lays passed out on the beach.

“I can explain!” you gasp, eyes frantically glazing over to where Charles messily packs his suitcase. “Please, just let me—”

“Sure.”

You come to a sudden halt, blink, and a single tear falls. The Monegasque smiles gently, though a red tint paints his cheeks from trying to not explode due to his fury.

Nothing but a squeak escapes, struggling to find the right words. You felt pathetic; like the worst person to ever walk earth because you were the worst person to ever walk earth. He almost wants to laugh and you can tell by how his lips tug upward in the slightest, and that itself makes you want to hurl over sobbing. This was all a joke to him, of course it was.

The brunette takes long strides over to where you stand in the kitchen, weakly leaning against a wooden chair to help your legs to not give out. You had been so surprised you were even able to run up to the house, clumsily twisting the knob and looking for him. He crunches down a bit, looking down at you with dark eyes, and grabs your face with his right hand. You wince.

“Let me make things easier for you; did you know who I was when we first met at the beach?”

“N-no. I swear to God that I did not know a single thing about you—”

“Did you ever truly enjoy my company as a friend?”

You breath hitches at him even considering the possibility that you never did, but he takes it the wrong way as his jaw clenches. “Of course I did! Charles, you’re the best thing that has—”

“And did your boss ask for you to write this article or was that all your idea?”

The light in his eyes have long dimmed, but your answer crushes the rest of his soul as you look down at his chest and then back at his stern glare. “It was all mine.”

It’s all a blur, and you’re sure you let out a yell when he disconnects from you and wipes his hand across the table, sending a singular plate flying before it roughly hits the floor and recklessly shatters. For a while, it’s complete silence; you can faintly hear the sound of crickets, the wind that sings, his ragged breath and your silent pleas. It’s both beautiful and ugly, all at the same time.

You’re sure to be careful and step around the porcelain dish, steadily making your way over to him. It kills you when he stumbles back as you inch closer; as if you were some type of toxin he knew best to stay away from. It took him a while, but he knew that now.

“The reason I came to the Amalfi Coast was to get away from work; the pressure, the—”

“You think you’re the only one?” he spits out sourly. “You’re not fucking special, we all have our own shit! Except some of us are decent human beings and don’t seek other people for our own benefit.” The twenty-six year old shakes his head. “Grow up.”

The room is spinning, and the walls are closing in on you, but you continue. “I never had the intention of hurting you and I swear I didn’t know who you were up until Nico. He mentioned enough for me to grow curious and that’s when I searched you up.” You release a shaky breath, chest tightening like a fist. “My parents never believed I could make a living out of journalism. No one did.”

Charles stands quietly, orbs tracing your breathless state. “I kept trying to be the best, but everyone was always five steps ahead of me, and I…” Returning your attention back up, you grimace, aware of what you’re about to confess. “And I thought having a Formula One driver as a friend might help get me there.”

When he doesn’t answer, it allows you to drown in an ocean of shame, finding it hard to face his guarded stare. As a way to pass time, you lick your salty lips, runny nose making you cringe.

“A-and then I got to know you.” Don’t do that, he warns coldly, but you push past it. The room is arctic almost, but you try to find strength and warmth in between the memories. “And for the first time in all my years of living, I felt at peace with someone who was my own reflection. You make it so easy; you’re kind, down to earth, funny in all senses, and you never fail to make my heart feel like it's going to fly out of my chest.” The rest of your words get stuck in your throat despite stupidly trying to say them out loud. Then again, he probably wouldn’t like it.

“At first I felt bad, but my hands were still able to move against my keypad; I was sure you would understand. But the more time we spent together and grew closer to one another, I knew that would never be the case. And my fingers felt stiff, they weren’t my own, but I had to do it—my job depended on it, Charles,” you whisper.

The Monegasque had never felt so conflicted in his life, not even when debating whether to resign with Ferrari. A part of him understood completely, and the other was torn. Okay, he murmurs, awkwardly pinching the tip of his nose and then releasing. “If you need this so badly, you could’ve been honest. I won’t be untruthful and say that I wouldn’t have been a bit thrown off, but not disappointed like I am now.” The blow punches a staggered breath out of you, fumbling back, dragging the chair along.

“That’s the thing though…you should have asked for permission,” he pressed, tone harsh, distant, venomous. “And yet you didn’t. You went behind my back, just like everybody else. I actually thought…” His voice cracks and he looks away, blinking rapidly as if pushing back his own tears. “God, I’ve been so stupid thinking you actually cared enough to get to know me.”

Somehow the ability to move re-enters your body, instantly drawing you closer but still giving him enough space. “I did—I do care. I care a lot. Because I’m like that—that is who I am! You’re it for me, Charles; I fucking care.” There. The words were right there once again, and yet you continue vowing anything but them. You’ve run out of breath, ran out of words, and you could only wish there was something there valuable enough for him to accept.

The brunette seems to understand your revelation, even if you think he doesn’t. It makes his heart palpitate as if he just ran a marathon and he hates it. He hates that it had to be this way. In some other dimension, he confesses first. He admits defeat because that’s how worthy you were to him. Because he loved you. And you loved him. But that’s somewhere else; somewhere far away—something far too unattainable.

“You’ve used everything against me, what more do you want?”

The waves must’ve heard your conversation because the once wild sound is now slow, gentle, soft. You almost wish they picked up for your own sake; to swallow the sound of your whimpers. “I told you about Lewis’ contract in confidence, but good for you—you’re the first one who will release the news, so, you got it. I’m sure everyone will congratulate you for that.”

“Drugs aren’t a joke, but did you really have to out me like that? It was my choice, sure, but did you even think about what will follow?” He scoffs. “You’ll get clicks, millions, but I’ll get looked down on by everyone around me. The media, my team, my fans.”

It hadn’t crossed your mind, God, why hadn’t it crossed your mind? You open your mouth and then snap it back shut. Charles runs a hand across his jaw. “But fuck, I don’t care about any of that—not as much as the pin.”

“Charles—”

“That was between you and me. My father was a clever man; a believer. I’m neither of those things, but I’ve tried my absolute best. And you’ve killed the last bit of it.” You suck in a breath; you can feel your eyes getting smaller, skin puffier. “Do you know how hard it is to have faith in yourself as a driver? It’s exhausting.” A beat. “But that golden horse was enough for me to keep going and now it’s tainted.”

There’s no more sounds flying past your lip, but the acid rain hasn’t slowed down, only intensified. “That’s the last thing I ever wanted to happen, Charles…I am so sorry.” Closing the gap in between you two, you thread your brows together softly. “If I could take it all back, I would. I would have never gotten an interview out of you without your knowledge, y-y-you have to believe me,” you plead. He only nods, green eyes flickering down to your rosy lips, then shut tight. When he opens them, it hurts, because you don’t recognize them anymore.

“You took it from me…But I would’ve given it to you.”

The atmosphere is something astonishing; the colorful fireworks, the deafening cheers, the cameras, the podium celebration—it truly took your breath away. And he deserved all of it.

It’d be half-witted to think he would agree to this; he had every right to turn you down. Rightfully so, he could have. He should have, you think to yourself as you nervously click your pen. You didn’t keep in touch after that summer, so it made perfect sense for you to think that he would look rather different.

But as he makes his way over, chatting with his PR manager, he looks just the same. Yes, he’s older; a bit more tired looking than the last time you saw him, much leaner, and his smiling crinkles have expanded like a beautiful sight. But he was still Charles to you.

“Congratulations,” you quip when he reaches you with a knowing look. Stuttering, you point over at the screen that replays his terrific race. “Y-y-you were incredible. World Champion, eh?” Complete silence. Can we get a minute to ourselves? The older lady hesitantly agrees, strolling away. You click faster, heart rate picking up as you watch her go.

The Monegasque licks his lips. “You showed up.”

Somewhere in the distance, you can hear fans screaming his name, the flashes shuttering brightly; you’re honestly impressed you were able to find a place to talk. “I said I would, no? I, um, also have this…” You extend your hand out towards him and his breath hitches,

Nothing would ever shine as bright as gold. His trophy is utter counterfeit compared to the prancing horse that winks back at him. His green eyes blink slowly for a while, almost as if he doesn’t recognize it, but that quickly dies as he reaches for it.

His simple touch grazes past you but it zaps you to the point where you jump up a bit, and he does too. The fireworks up in the open sky were doing a fantastic job at interpreting what you were feeling at that very moment. Charles clears his throat, orbs tracing his reward. His golden cup was great, but this?

“Thank you.” And it sounds so sincere that you almost release a cry. “I really appreciate you keeping your word. I know I didn’t keep mine.”

He hadn’t. But you understood. The wedding invitation had been sent to him and he never responded. He never showed up. You never figured out why you were so surprised, but you were. “You were busy. I get it.”

Tension lingers. “How’s work?”

Work was great; easier. You guess that's what happens when everyone finally applauds you. It took a lot of strength for you to publish the article, but you did it anyway. Do it, he mumbled that night as he walked out of your life for three years. Don’t let all of this be for nothing.

Running your sweaty palm against your dress, you hum. “I’m chief executive now.” The Monegasque lets out an impressed whistle and for the first time since you landed in Abu Dhabi, you smile. “Eleanor retired a while ago and apparently loves me now.”

“How could she not?” You grow stiff. “How is Grayson? I’m sure the wedding was great, by the way.”

His eyes flicker down at your ring and you beam. His heart breaks just a bit when your eyes stare down in adoration. “He’s amazing—he’s right over there, actually.” Your husband is far enough away, but he could still see it all. The little boy giggles up at his father and you laugh.

Charles smiles. “I’m happy for you. I really am.”

“Thank you. But tell me, champ; how do you feel? This shit doesn’t happen everyday, now does it?”

“A lot of work and patience, but it all worked out at the end. Which I’m glad because I was close to blowing my brains out.” You playfully pout, red lips curling into a familiar look.

“Still going to stick around?”

“A couple years or so…” His gaze shifts over at the rest of the grid who eye you two suspiciously. Even to them it was clear that there is history that will always remain. “I think I could do it.”

You tilt your head, hair falling over your shoulder. “I know you can, Cha.” The newly World Champion freezes and then shakes his head, avoiding your vibrant eyes. “Question,” you mumble.

“Ears,” he retorts, voice painted with humor.

“Do you ever…” You’re too embarrassed to finish your sentence, too afraid to face the possible answer. The Monegasque chuckles, a single hand over his heart and it takes you back to your last day with him in Italy where the weather was perfect.

“No regrets.”

His confirmation shouldn’t have been enough to reduce your forever heartbreak, but it manages enough. Releasing a weak exhale, you curiously peek over to where he retreats a gem. Your gem. The shiny pearl radiates, nearly making you blind, but it's new look is something that tugs at your heartstrings.

“Where did you…how did you?”

He shrugs, slipping it onto your ring finger; but on the right hand as the left now had an owner you loved back. “A friend of mine proposed to his girlfriend a while ago and I had it laying around and I just…” You blink with glossy eyes. “Do you like it?”

“I love it.” A wet laugh slips out, hugging him like a blanket. You chew on your bottom lip. “I’m so happy you kept it safe; thank you so much.” He blushes, large hands brushing his damp hair back. “You know, sometimes…sometimes I think about you.” His name is mentioned on the large screen, but he’s not concerned by any means. Green eyes are focused on you; they always have been. “It’s mainly in the shape of a nightmare, but hey…” He winces. You continue. “It’s not your fault though, I brought it upon myself. I shouldn’t have done what I did.”

“You shouldn’t have.” You swallow the lump in your throat. “But don’t worry about it anymore; I forgive you.”

You can’t help but throw your arms over his shoulders. You don’t even care how sweaty he is, you don’t at all. You’ve kissed him twice in your life, but this had to be the best interaction you’ve had. You didn’t deserve it—you were well aware—but he had always been kind. Even to people like you.

Hot tears slide against his red fireproofs and he doesn’t dare pull away. Your sweet scent was still the same, but more mature. Your body was just as he remembered, but he could feel the small belly forming; you’re someone's home. He swears he feels a kick and his heart stops. Alas, you pull away with a rosy nose and swollen eyes. You giggle, wiping your teardrops.

“I think about you all the time, too.” He fiddles with his fingers. “But mine aren’t nightmares; they’re dreams.” A heave leaves you, pursing your lips. “They’re blurry, but they’re my favorite. In them, you didn’t step all over my heart. In them, you’re mine. And in them, I’m yours.” The pearl glistens harder. “And in them, I tell the truth that’s stuck with me from the moment you stepped foot on stage, rusty microphone in hand.”

He must think you’re having a breakdown by the way you crazily stare at him, but you’re not. You practice the shape of his nose, his lips, his brows. You admire his freckles, his watercolor eyes. Since when did they have a pinch of gray?

Charles takes a step towards you, but gets caught by the gate that separates you both. It’s up to his hips and he curses for it even being there. But then again; it was a sign. You must realize that too when you sigh sadly, delicate hands tracing the cold metal. “I loved you then.” A beat. “And I love you now.”

A sob is all heard as your face disappears, pressed against your hands, hiding. They grow louder and everyone must assume he made the pretty journalist cry or maybe it was her pregnancy. Maybe it was both. Separating to look up at him, you smile melancholic. “Do I even have to tell you too?”

“You don’t have to,” he clarifies. “Because I know.”

The feeling was bittersweet; it was more than that, but you would survive. Everything will forever stay in the Amalfi Coast, and you will cherish it all.

The Monegasque knocked out on the beach. The bar. Nico. The AirBnB. The love. The heartbreak.

Both ends were content. You would never truly get over that last summer, but you had others to care for now. He would never truly heal, but for now his job kept him busy. You were both at your prime. Just not together.

Clicking your pen, you nudge your notebook with a weak smile.

“Charles Leclerc, first time World Champion…Can I have an interview with you?”

taglist: @blueflorals @starmanv @coolio2195 @lovrsm @weekendlusting@chanshintien @brune77e @myownwritings @timmychalametsstuff @milasexutoire@alesainz @c-losur3 @darleneslane @togazzo @urfavnoirette @namgification @lpab @d3kstar @anniee-mr @nebarious

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running-with-kn1ves · 8 months

Text

Late Mornings

A/N: Just a short little thang I felt like writing. The idea of writing a smut w/ these two is very tempting 🧐🧐

Incubus x Gender neutral reader x Succubus

Summary: Just a normal morning with your secret succubus/incubus roommates, nothing odd here at all

“Hey, have you been going into my room lately?”

You looked down into your cup of warm tea, sticking your thumb in to feel the temperature.

Your female roommate scoffed, cutting herself off with a laugh.

“What? No. What kind of question is that, why would I go into your room?”

“Well,” You chest squeezes, your heart feeling like it was about to squish and explode. “I-- Every morning, my door is open. I never leave my door open; not when I’m not home, anyway. I’ve been paying attention to it more, and it’s no coincidence--”

“What are we talkin’ about fellas?” A raspy voice says from behind, startling you.

Your hand shakes, mug slightly tipping to leave tea on the white tablecloth. Shit, this was your grandma’s.

Your female roommate, currently still cooking with her back turned to you, let out a groan of disgust.

“Didn’t know the beast woke up before noon.” She chides.

Warm hands fall onto your shoulders, holding them still as if to keep you from getting up.

“You’re up, Gabriel?” You try to turn around to face him, but find that the male is already next to you, his warmth radiating off of him, part of it likely still remaining in the sheets he just tangled himself out of.

“You too?” He frowns, unattractive lines forming on his pedicured face. “I don’t sleep that late most of the time, you know. I have to get up for work by 10-- usually.”

“Yeah, when you don’t have a ‘guest’.” Your female roommate counters.

“Ugh shuddup Liz, as if you’re not the same. Besides, you know I gave that up a while ago.”

For some reason, Gabriel looked toward you while saying this, you in return giving him a confused look.

He massaged your shoulders, leaning all of his weight onto you as he nearly fell asleep again, yawning and closing his eyes.

“You believe me right, sunshine? Haven’t heard anything in these thin walls lately huh?”

You cringe at how he shoves his nose against the crook of your neck, inhaling your smell so obviously it nearly makes you shudder from embarrassment. You would’ve shoved him off if Liz had turned around, witnessing it. But she still was turned cooking, making breakfast for you. She made enough for all three of you to eat, but you knew you’d be the only one with a plate when she was done.

“C’mon Gabe you’re suffocating me,” You pat his hand, hoping he’d stop himself from reaching over the chair to hold you. But he didn’t, instead giving you a awkward hug from behind as he rocked you back and forth.

“Blegh, don’t call me that; you know I hate it. Just gives me more of a reason to hang on…” He says, noting the way you shimmy in his grip, trying to make him let go.

Liz turns with a pan in her hand, dumping the eggs and bacon in it onto your plate, pulling Gabriels ear with her free hand.

“Let go.” She says, with a little more harshness than you would’ve expected.

“Mind your manners, you never learned how to share.” She glares daggers at him, flicking his nose as he backs off.

You’re too busy pulling at your neck, a wave of nausea and sleepiness coming over you, as if Gabriel’s exhaustion rubbed off.

“So mean, bitch..” He mumbles, stretching his arms as he goes to sit next to you. “Well, atleast I feel energized for the day.”

His face has a newfound freshness, dark circles less ingrained as he looks around the room.

Gabriel scooted his chair over noisily, sitting nearly beside you now despite your chair being at the short end of the table.

You let out a small sigh of exasperation, feeling what seemed like bruises on your shoulders and neck. Had he really pressed that hard?

“Stop messing with it, you’ll make it worse.” He said, bringing your hand down as you felt a strange indent in your skin.

“Make what worse?” You questioned. Could he see something on you that you couldn’t? Well, you hadn’t looked in a mirror since you woke up.

“What are your plans for the day?” Liz interrupted, holding a mug with one hand as she sat across from gabriel, moving her chair with her other hand. You always admired the grace she seemed to have when doing things, her balance and lack of clumsiness making her appear so capable. If it were you, you probably would’ve gotten the chair stuck on the rug, dropping the mug in the process.

Her chair was close, but not nearly as close as Gabriel’s. You watched her pour her coffee as you began to pick up your fork. Gabe held onto your other hand, petting it with his thumb as he grabbed a clean mug from across the table.

Trying to pull your hand away, you found that Gabriel’s came with it, holding on as if he was an extension of you.

“Gabe.” Liz barked, watching the scene unfold. Gabriel was mid-sip as he let go in an offended manner, throwing up his free hand and rolling his eyes from behind the mug.

She scoffed, muttering under her breath about his childness as she turned her attention to you.

“So, your plans for today, Bee?” Liz repeated.

You perked up at the nickname, having not heard it for quite a while. You much preferred it over Gabriel’s overly sweet ones-- It wasn’t even about him trying too hard, he was just naturally that sappy to a tasteless degree.

You looked up like a deer in headlights, not expecting the attention your roommates were giving now, since they were previously so occupied with one another. But they both awaited your answer, watching you shovel bits of cheesy eggs and overdone bacon into your mouth. You took a scalding sip of your tea, some of it dripping down to your chin as you tried to hurry to answer.

“You’re almost as bad as Gabriel,” Liz sneered, though with less conviction than she gave to the aforementioned male. “Take your time, don’t rush.”

She pulled a napkin from the holder, grabbing your chin like a mother would to her child. Though, you didn’t feel the napkin grace your face, instead her thumb was wiping away whatever remnants you left on your unwashed skin.

Satisfied, Liz licked her thumb clean, drying it on the napkin she pulled.

“So...?”

You cleared your throat, licking your lips under the hungry gazes of your roomates.

“Uh, I really hadn’t planned much, since its been my first day off since--”

“You should stay home with us; what do ya know, I have today off too.” Gabriel interrupts.

You look towards him, a cheeky grin covering his face as he pushes his socked foot against yours, hip nearly touching your own.

All of a sudden Gabriel yelped out, his knee hitting the table as Liz shot him a glare that you swore could paralyze. You hoped to never be on the receiving end of her wrath.

“While I don’t usually agree with the dimwit,” Liz commented, turning her attention back to you as her hard expression softened. “I think it could be nice to have a roomies day-- Just relaxing, watching movies, indulging in some needs… You know, just simple things.”

Gabriel nursed his foot, holding it as he nodded with a frown.

“I could do your hair.. Liz could take you shopping…” Gabe’s excitement had turned to slight pouting.

You thought about it for a moment. Why not? You had hardly spent much time with the two, even though they always seemed to be around, sucking up your energy and time like vampires. You swore it was a mistake to have two extroverts as your roommates.

There seemed to be something off about them too; something they wouldn’t say. But you didn’t mind-- especially since they had quit some of their more tedious habits like bringing nightly “friends” home, since you came along. You didn’t know how much longer you could handle the embarrassment of hearing their every move, every sound. Thankfully, you didn’t have to have much of a discussion about it, their one-night stands decreasing by the second week of your move-in.

“Awe please say yes,” Gabriel pouted, reaching for your hand as he bunched his own against the tablecloth, attention pulled back to you. “We hardly get your-- well, any time with you. C’mon, won’t you do it for us?”

Liz would’ve reprimanded him if it weren’t for the way your frown turned slightly upward. You took his hand, giving a dramatic sigh and roll of your eyes.

“Does that mean yes?” Liz questioned.

“I guess so. As long as we aren’t going extreme-- I don’t need a whole wardrobe change, OR a new hairstyle.”

You looked at Gabriel with your eyebrows raised.

“I’ll do the best I can to restrain myself.” He cackles, rubbing his hands mischeviously.

“Ah, I’m excited,” Liz says with a grin, pushing her foot towards yours. “I can’t remember the last time I got to go out with a… friend.” She gave you a smile that seemed out of place.

You smiled back, slightly forced as her cold foot ran up and down your leg, stroking above your pajama pants as she gleamed at you.

“Well we gotta get ready-- first, its my turn. I need to get you dressed and right for the day-- before missy here takes you for a shopping trip that counts more as an excursion.” Gabriel pushed out of his seat, leaving his full cup there as you took another bite of food.

“Don’t keep me waiting,” He pushed your head towards his face, giving a longing kiss to your cheek as you chewed. “I know where to find youuu.” He sing-songed, pressing a finger to your nose as he pecked the same area once more. He skipped back to his room, humming as he and Liz refused to break eye contact.

Was it normal for roommates to be so affectionate? You weren’t sure, but the rent was too cheap and they were too nice for you to say no to his advances.

“He’s right, its already eleven.” Liz commented, her busty body already dressed in normal day clothes that showed off the right parts; You had to admit, you were a little jealous of how well she knew how to dress for her body type.

Liz grabbed her mug with her fingertips, pushing your hair back and giving a gentle peck to your forehead.

“Don’t let him do too much, you’ll regret it.” Liz warned. She laughed a little as she walked away, your chewing stopping as you wondered what you had gotten yourself into.

You quickly finished your food, feeling another wave of sickly nausea pressing into your sinuses as your head went heavy. You were going to need much more than your normal amount of strength to survive those two today.

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clockwayswrites · 1 year

Text

Like Betta Fish Do- Part 3

Masterpost of ao3 link and all parts. wc: 1263

“Sorry for intruding on your haunt! Total accident. Please don’t disembowel me. Sorry again,” Dick read off the card that had been tucked into the gift basket. He glanced from the card, to the rest of the assembled batclan, and back to the card in confusion.

Of course Dick had insisted on coming with Jason to check over Crime Alley. Of course when they found the basket Dick had insisted on bringing it back to the Cave to be tested for poisons—

“They’re bathbombs, who’s going to fucking poison bathbombs.”

“We’ve seen weirder, Jaybird.”

—and so of course the whole family was there now.

Before Dick had even let them move the basket, he checked it out for basic booby traps. (To be fair, this was the first thing Jason did too.) Once the basked had been to the Cave, it was checked over, again, by various Bats. Then, Tim had taken all the contents to run a chemical analysis on the chocolate and bathbombs (seriously, who poisons bathbombs?). And finally, Bruce gave the all clear on examining the basket itself.

Dick had snagged the little card out of it’s little envelope before Jason could even make a grab for it and read off the message. “’Please don’t disembowel me’? What the fuck, Jason.”

Jason raised his hands up with a shrug. “Don’t ask me. Sure, ‘please don’t behead me’ I could get—” he ignored the slight flinch that caused from Tim and Bruce— “But pretty sure word has gotten around that killing isn’t really my sort of MO anymore.”

Thankfully the computer beeped before they could get into all that.

Again.

Tim read over the results before announcing, “Report came back clean on everything.”

“Huh.” Dick seemed actually surprised by that. Jason was feeling really fucking done with his family.

“Perhaps a chemical inside the bathbombs that will explode when exposed to water?” Damian suggested.

Really fucking done.

“We do all get how messed up it is that your brains go there, right?” Duke asked. (Duke might be Jason’s favorite at the moment.)

“Can’t be that,” Tim said, ignoring Duke’s comment about their mental stability with practiced ease. “I took a sample core all the way to the center. It really is just a basket with bathbombs and some chocolate.”

“Sweet,” Stephanie said as she made a lunge for the box of chocolates. Jason quickly pulled the basket and its contents out of reach.

“Back off, it’s my gift,” Jason said with a snarl that was only half for show. As much as he had calmed back down, he still felt tense— like there was a heavy weight in the center of his chest.

Damian gave him a wholly unimpressed look. “Why? Do you deserve it for, and I quote, not disemboweling someone?”

“I mean, I haven’t,” Jason said with a shrug as he grabbed his helmet; the gift basket was tucked securely under the other arm.

“Jason, we have to talk about this,” Bruce said in that tone of his; the one that implied Jason was making a stupid mistake. The one he always seemed to have—

Jason shook the thoughts away. He didn’t need to tempt the Pit today by doing down that path. He could feel that green tinged anger lurking on the edge of his mind already. He kept heading to his bike. If he got out of here, the temptation to pick a fight would go away. He knew that. He just had to make the choice to walk away from the fight. “Fuck no. Look. I’ll check my system and put up new cameras or some shit, okay?”

The footage on every camera he had up around the exterior of his apartment had either shown nothing at all or had glitched out into a fuzz of static. There had been someone at his door— a slight person, dark clothing— but that's as much detail as they could get. Which was, sure, concerning, but seemed like no harm no foul. (Not that the rest of the family agreed with that assessment.)

“I’ll bring over some better cameras in a few days and check through your system,” Tim said, already turning his attention to the task.

Jason didn’t want that.

He didn’t want anyone else messing with his system. But he was starting to understand that having his hands on the information of his family was Tim’s way of showing he cared. Jason hated it, but he understood it, so he’d allow it. He owed Tim more than a little acceptance. He owed Tim so much.

“Sure thing, Replacement.”

-----

Jason spent hours going over every inch of his place when he returned. None of the traps or markers had been triggered to show that anyone had actually come inside his space. The feeling he had experienced at dinner hadn’t come back. All that he felt was a slight unease and that was easy enough to dismiss as lingering feelings from earlier in the day. It wasn’t any worse than a Pit hangover.

Finally, satisfied that his place was secure, Jason sank down onto his couch with a huff of air.

The gift basket mocked him from where it sat on the coffee table. He’d dumped it there when he first came in, ignoring the odd present in favor of making sure that his place was safe. It would have been convenient for someone to break in and set up a trap while they were off dealing with the basket, but no one had. Now both him and the Pit were settled and the basket was still there.

Who the fuck gave bathbombs for not being disemboweled?

Leaning forward, arms resting on his knees, Jason plucked out the card. It was a simple thing, just a bit of cream cardstock in a little envelope. No logo or distinguishing features. The writing was a scrawled, half cursive— just this side of legible. Distinctive, but not any handwriting that Jason recognized. It wasn’t signed.

That would have been too easy.

That was the real issue of it all, wasn’t it? Who would leave a note like that for him? Jason Todd shouldn’t be getting a note like that. Red Hood, sure, he could understand getting such a message. He hated it a little, now that he was further away from the worst of the Pit Rage, but he got it. But him as Jason? Reclusive, miraculously returned son of Bruce Wayne? Jason shouldn’t have anyone afraid of him like that.

It spoke to someone knowing of his life as vigilante turned crime boss turned vigilante again, and that was dangerous. It was dangerous for him. It was dangerous for his family. It was dangerous for Crime Alley.

It was just another fucking thing he had to deal with. As if it wasn’t enough to having only recently, officially, returned to the living. There was also the work he was trying to do as Red Hood, the work he was trying to do for Crime Alley as Jason, and the effort of trying to spend more time with his family (preferably without stabbing anyone). Now he had this mystery too.

Maybe the bathbombs actually were a good gift and didn’t that idea make him scowl. When was the last time he’d actually taken some time to just relax? It had to be a while with the size that his ‘to read’ pile had grown to was any indication.

He could use one. They were just bathbombs.

He could run a warm bath, relax, crack open a book, eat some chocolate… and just try not to worry for a bit. Nothing was going to be solved tonight. Bruce had ordered him off patrol— which normally wouldn’t stop him, but Cass had given him big worried eyes too. There were no other pressing matters. His apartment was secure…

Fuck it. He grabbed the little basket and headed to the bathroom.

Time for some self care.

-----

AN: We'll likely get a Danny scene to cap chapter 2 off, but I though this was a nice little bundle to post! And my poor migraine is going to get even worse with the Artic front so wanted to get this posted~

Thank you all for such a lovely response on the other parts! This will be going up on ao3, but I want to get at least three chapters done first to get a little buffer. Everyone who asked should be in the tag list (as of yesterday), but if I missed you, or you want to be added, just let me know in the replies!

Stay delightful my darlings!

#dp x dc #dp x dc fanfic #red hood #jason todd #batfamily #like betta fish do

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sunkendreams · 3 months

Note

asking for some ethan landry smut ,,, I don’t care what you write but I need it! 🧎‍♀️

when the party’s over.

➾ pairing ; ethan landry x fem!reader.

in which you meet a cute boy at a college party and decide to have a little bit of fun behind closed doors.

FORMAT: drabble — requested.

WORD COUNT: 4K.

WARNINGS: SMUT! (mdni), alcohol/drinking, typical college party antics, hooking up, semi-public sex, risk of getting caught, virgin!ethan, making out, hair-pulling, groping, cunnilingus, oral sex (f!receiving), extreme horny antics, handjob (m!receiving), fingering, cumming together ;)), ethan has some dark/weird thoughts, cumplay, begging, dirty talk, ambiguous ending

AUTHOR’S NOTE: I’m suffering from chronic ethan landry brainrot :’) he’s so cute but unhinged/deranged and I love that !!! I love my men sexy and out for blood !! I am absolutely planning on writing a part two and/or more of him, this was so fun & horny (my favorite). I hope you all enjoy! ❤️

A homemade concoction of various alcohol stung your nose as you strolled past the kitchen, surrounded by a swarm of neon lights — vibrant shades of violet, green, and hot pink. The music blared all around you, bass booming hard enough to make your bones rattle.

Blackmore University was infamous for its chaotic parties and mixers that involved too much to drink and too many people — tonight was no exception. Halloween was right around the corner, and the party was lively with plenty of buzzed college students dressed in costumes.

The rest of your entourage had decided to be the fairies from Pixie Hollow. You hadn’t decided on a particular fairy, but you’d gotten a cute dress and trinkets to look the part. Your wings — cheap gossamer stretched over wire frames — were serviceable at best.

You came along with a group of your friends, but they scattered as soon as they walked through the door. You were left to your own devices, sipping on a hard lemonade with a sour expression. The alcohol tasted decent enough, but you were wary of getting intoxicated in unfamiliar locations.

Some radio-popular hip-hop song provided a steady ambiance as you traipsed through another hallway, narrowly avoiding a collision with a sashaying junior.

The thick, heady scent of marijuana drifted throughout the frat house, accompanied by clouds of hazy smoke. As you passed by the staircase, there was a boy slumped to one side, puffing on a bong that seemed comically large. Typical college party antics, you assumed.

As you rounded the doorway, you slammed right into a boy who seemed just as startled as you were. The drink in your hand smashed into the cardboard chest piece he was wearing, exploding onto your silvery evening dress.

“S—Shit! I’m so sorry,” He stammered, fumbling over his words as he clamored to grab a towel or a rag — anything, really. He hastily decided on a throw blanket draped over the back of a leather couch, tossing it over the puddle of spilled alcohol. “I didn’t see you.”

Before you decided to admonish him for his carelessness, you realized that it wasn’t his fault — more of a joint mistake, really. “No, it’s fine! I should’ve been looking.” You replied, crouching down to help him clean up the mess.

The front of your pretty dress was now coated in a layer of sticky booze, clinging to your chest with an uncomfortable dampness. Unfortunately, you’d left your jacket back at your dormitory, riddled with a stain that would likely stay for the duration of the party.

When you finally got a look at your obstacle, you were delighted to find that he was cute — arguably the most attractive boy in the room. “I’m really sorry about your dress. I ruined your costume.” He frowned, brows furrowing together.

You realized that he was dressed as a Knight, armor meticulously crafted of intricate cardboard cutouts and patterns. “I think we ruined each other’s costumes.” You mused, gesturing toward the splotch of alcohol all over the front of his chest.

“This is going to the dumpster once the party ends, anyway.” He confessed, letting out a soft chuckle. Admittedly, it made you laugh, nose crinkling in amusement as you cleared your throat.

“Really? I think it looks great! You put a lot of effort into it.” That was true — it was a neat costume. You found it amusing that the knight and the fairy had run into one another, as if it were ripped from the pages of some gaudy romance novel.

“Thanks,” The boy chewed at the inside of his cheek, reaching to rub at the back of his neck. “You’re supposed to be a fairy, right? I noticed the wings, and the … Dress. Before I collided with you.” He was in awe of you, truly — you were absolutely gorgeous.

Part of him thought about staking out your dorm for later, but now wasn’t the time.

A familiar wave of heat washed over you, creeping into your features as you playfully spun around. Your glittering dress and cosmetics glistened in the lower light. “The rest of my friends came as the Pixie Hollow fairies. I couldn’t really decide on one, so I made my own.”

“Yeah, well you — You look really pretty.” He swallowed the growing lump within his throat, attempting to kick away that twinge of social anxiety. It was something he struggled with — he wasn’t nearly as outgoing or charismatic as his older brother.

“Thank you, that’s really sweet of you.” Bristling from his innocuous compliment, you stepped closer, attempting to close some of the distance between the both of you. “What’s your name? I didn’t catch it.” You piped up, leaning against the doorframe.

Unable to keep from smiling, he stayed static, watching as you bridged the gap. “I’m Ethan, Ethan Landry. It’s nice to meet you.” His chest shook with a brief chuckle when you stuck out your hand for an exaggerated handshake.

“Ethan Landry,” You beamed, shaking his hand with excitable energy. After you gave him your name, the conversation only seemed to blossom from there. “It’s nice to meet you, too! What are you studying here at Blakemore?”

Ethan never had the best luck with women, especially ones as pretty as you. Not only that, but you had a whirlwind of charm to you, too. “Uh … I’m still deciding. Leaning toward film, though! What about you?” He asked, unable to keep his eyes off of you.

“I’m also in the process of deciding. I’m trying to get my basic courses out of the way before I commit to something.” You chimed, sidestepping away from the swarm of rancorous students that began to pile into the living room.

With a constant grin, you peered toward the growing crowd of students dancing in the middle of the room. A fast-paced hip-hop song began to thrum over the speakers, filling the frat house with music.

“Do you want to dance?” You asked, motioning toward the gathering in the center of the room. This was the one college party where you’d met a cute boy who seemed to take an interest — you weren’t about to squander it.

He seemed visibly hesitant, making a face that screamed ‘I don’t think it’s a good idea’. Ethan relented, deciding that taking a risk and spending more time with you would be worthwhile. “Just one. It’s getting pretty crazy in here.” He wasn’t much of a dancer, either.

“Just one!” You reaffirmed, snatching ahold of his hand as the two of you joined the mosh pit of students. Somewhere through the chaos, you ended up right against him, chest to chest, swaying and bouncing to the music. It was loud, so loud that it shook the very foundations of the building.

Ethan didn’t want to make a fool out of himself. He simply mimicked some of your movements, entranced by the way you involuntarily pressed against him, a smile on your face, drifting off to the music. You grabbed one of his hands, prompting him to twirl you around.

“So what are you doing at this party? Did you come with friends?” You asked, practically yelling at Ethan as the two of you continued to dance. It was a little awkward, but he seemed engrossed, stooping down to give you an answer.

“Yeah! I came with some friends, and my roommate. They’re around here somewhere.” Ethan replied, grabbing you and pushing you aside to avoid being smacked by flying arms and stray bodies.

As Ethan briefly looked through the crowd, he noticed Chad somewhere on the other side, cheering him on with a toothy grin. It gave him a bit of a confidence boost, no matter how small it seemed to be. You were so beautiful, jubilant and vibrant, moving with the music.

The way he looked at you was mesmerizing, the stare of a charmed, smitten boy. You were the center of gravity, the sun — bright and shining just for him. Admittedly, you weren’t oblivious, and if it weren’t for the sea of people, you might’ve been emboldened enough to kiss him.

The music began to dissipate, song trailing off into the next track. “Do you want to go somewhere else to talk?” Ethan asked, surprising you by being the first to make a move. You wondered if he really meant talking, but either way, you were happy.

“Yeah.” You nodded, reaching for his hand as he escorted you out of the dance room and toward the staircase. The two of you carefully avoided any stragglers slumped on the stairs, slipping past a gaggle of girls stumbling down from the bathroom.

Once you were upstairs, things became more hushed altogether. Even just standing on the balcony provided some relief as he ran a hand through his mop of curly hair, glancing down at you with a smile. “Is this better?” He asked, leaning against the bannister,

An amused chuckle escaped you as you nodded, tilting back against the wooden post at the top of the staircase. “Much better,” You mused, absentmindedly biting at your lower lip. “You know, if you wanted to be alone, all you had to do was ask.”

Ethan’s countenance flushed from ivory to scarlet within the blink of an eye, throat becoming dry as he attempted to come up with some viable excuse. “It’s not that, I just — Shit. This isn’t what it looks like.” He groaned, feeling your hand slip around his.

“Ethan,” You murmured, canting your head to one side. “You need to stop psyching yourself out.” Another giggle left you, enough to reassure him, put his nerves to rest as you coaxed him closer. You tugged on his hand, leading him toward a room somewhere in the back hallway.

Wordlessly, you slipped inside, realizing that this was likely someone else’s room — one that was clearly unoccupied. It was all nondescript and outfitted with the bare essentials of a dorm, lights dimmed as you shut the door behind the both of you.

Your back gently pressed against the uncomfortable wood of the door as you latched it, ensuring that no one would be barging in anytime soon. Ethan appeared both excited and bewildered, chomping at the bit to finally touch a girl. He’d been lonely for so long — and now, fantasy was becoming reality.

“Are you sure? I — What if somebody hears us or comes knocking?” Ethan asked. In all actuality, he didn’t care whatsoever. He was aching, desperate to feel you and be inside of you, if you let him. The idea of losing his virginity to a beautiful girl at a party was enticing.

Neglecting to offer an answer to his constant string of worrying, you decided to change course. “Kiss me.” You whispered, feeling a pang of molten heat hit your stomach when Ethan practically pounced on you, lips messy and inexperienced as he kissed you.

The stiff cardboard of his helmet bumped into your face, causing you to giggle. Ethan became crimson-faced, swiftly tossing it behind him onto the gray carpet. Without hesitation, he grabbed your face, kissing you again with a low groan.

Music blared from downstairs, bass able to eclipse all of the noise emerging from the guest room. Your hands moved toward his shoulders, lips tangling with his as he readjusted his grip. Ethan’s palms sank into your soft curves, clutching at your hips above the dress.

“I’ve never done anything like this before,” Ethan mumbled, peering at you through his lashes. “I want to learn, though.” He wasn’t clueless — he’d watched things online before and indulged in the company of his right hand on multiple occasions.

Gentle laughter escaped you, accompanied by a twinge of understanding. “I don’t know if I wanna go all the way in the guest room of a frat house,” You mused, fingers shifting to rake through his hair. “It’s okay, Ethan. I’m not worried about it.”

Ethan relaxed, visibly reassured by your words before you tapped a nail against the cardboard cutout framing his chest. He got the hint, happy to be rid of the ridiculous costume. He didn’t care very much for it — you, on the other hand, looked ethereal.

Instead of you steering him around, he took ahold of your hands, coaxing you toward the unmade mattress. He had a vivid idea of what he wanted to do to you. Ethan watched with wide, desirous eyes as you sat down, flesh crawling with heat when he stood between your legs.

To your complete delight, Ethan sank down onto his knees, all six feet and two inches of him, hands gently caressing your legs. “You’ll tell me if I’m not doing something right, yeah?” He prompted, sucking in a sharp breath when you kissed him.

He was tall, and you didn’t have to stoop very much at all to reach him, feeling his fingertips tease the hem of your dress. Your fingers scraped against the nape of his neck, pushing themselves throughout his mop of curly hair. The soft groan that escaped him made your heart flutter.

“I’ll tell you.” You murmured, watching as he sheepishly tilted inward for another kiss. Ethan’s hands began to creep underneath your dress at a snail’s pace, exploring every inch of you. You felt velveteen beneath his fingertips, like a fine silk.

“Can I take your dress off?” Ethan murmured, peering at you through thick eyelashes. His breath hitched within his throat as you reached toward your back, unzipping the shimmering garment.

You neglected to shimmy out of the snug fabric, letting it pool around your chest, instead. “All yours.” Your hand dipped toward the silvery straps around your ankles as you stepped out of your heels.

Ethan swallowed the lump of excitement that coalesced within the back of his throat, hands curling into the hem of your dress. Sluggishly, he began to coax the fabric down, mesmerized by the way you lifted your hips, wordlessly assisting him.

The thin straps of your lace brassiere clung to your chest, accompanied by a matching pair of panties. Ethan’s sigh was shaky, quivering with a tremor of delight as he grabbed your thighs, body pushing them apart.

“You’re so beautiful.” A low, throaty groan escaped him, lips agape as he pressed a kiss against your thigh. Even your smell was intoxicating, swarming his senses like a heady tidal wave. He didn’t know where to start, but he had an idea of what he wanted.

Swallowing his bout of nervousness, Ethan continued to kiss along your leg, feeling your fingers curl into his hair. The little tugs and motions you made only served to make his heart beat faster, goosebumps coalescing along his spine. His hands curled into the waistband of your panties, inching them down your legs.

You squirmed, chest fluttering with warmth as he looked to you for consent, skin flush with scarlet. “Please, Ethan.” Your hips jolted forward, aching for his mouth, fingers — anything that he was willing to give you. “Please keep going.”

Ethan loved that — he loved hearing you beg.

He wondered what it’d be like to make you cry, perhaps toy with you, knife in-hand, make you writhe. Some sinister part of him wanted to hear you say it again, and without thinking, his mouth moved before he could comprehend anything else.

“Say it again,” Ethan urged, chest rising and falling with soft pants as he clutched at your legs. The doe-eyed expression on your countenance only added fuel to the now-raging fire, and he watched with silent glee as you let out a soft whine. “Please.”

“Ethan, please,” Without hesitation, you pleaded with him, desperate for friction — for any shred of it. Your voice rose an octave, bleeding heat from between your legs. “Please, please,” You moaned, watching the way his pupils expanded with lust. “I want you — want your mouth.”

Despite his inexperience, Ethan was prepared to follow basic instinct, palms smoothing themselves along your thighs until he held your hips. His head dipped between your thighs, tongue sluggishly swiping along your cunt, familiarizing himself with your taste.

Your back arched, stomach swirling with an excitable heat as he took his time. There was something exploratory in-nature, a desire to savor you. His cock strained against the front of his jeans when your nails gently raked themselves over his dark curls.

He shuddered with delight, ministrations lacking any haste. Ethan went slow, almost painfully so, tongue dutifully lapping at your cunt as he kneaded into your hips. The sounds that escaped you were divine — intoxicating, really.

The bass of the music thundered underneath the both of you, and any footsteps that reverberated close by were met with indifference. He was buried between your legs, lips caressing your core as he traced along your slit. Your hips jolted forward, desperate for any scrap of friction he provided.

“Ethan,” You moaned, pleasantly surprised by how eager he was. A surge of molten heat coalesced within the pit of your stomach, churning with excitement and desire. You gingerly tugged at his curls, feeling his tongue sweep over your clit. “A—Ah! Right there!”

He paused, mouth clamoring to find that sweet spot of yours, feeling you steer him in the right direction. He lapped at your clit, cock throbbing with an urgency when you whimpered. Ethan hunched forward, gently placing one of your legs on his shoulder.

Ethan felt a newfound rush of confidence, skin hot and visage flushed as he ate you out, increasing his pace and intensity. It became somewhat sloppy, a mess of tongue and desperation, aroused by the noises that escaped you and the constant pressure of your hand in his hair.

What he wouldn’t give to watch you by yourself — a picture for later, or touching you while you slept. The thought of you beneath him, begging for more, tears in your eyes — he groaned, cock straining against the front of his jeans.

His heart hammered erratically, mirroring your own galloping heartbeat as he kissed your clit, tongue messily lapping wherever he could. You squirmed again whenever he touched that sensitive clutch of nerves, slumping backwards onto the mattress.

“Fuck, you’re addicting,” Ethan groaned, and that was enough to get you to whimper. You’d never been called that before, and the way he half-whined the words himself made your hips buck forward. “So pretty.” He whispered, nearly in disbelief as he lapped at your clit.

Your stomach sloshed with molten heat, lips agape as another moan tore past your mouth. He was working wonders, nails digging into your haunch, causing goosebumps to prickle along your thighs. “I want you to use your hand.” You sighed.

Ethan knew that he wouldn’t last long himself watching you, and when you sat up, he was scarlet-faced and visibly pained. “I—I’m sorry.” It was as if his confidence had shattered completely. He was a little embarrassed about how hard he’d gotten from this, but you seemed understanding.

“Come here,” You gestured toward the empty spot next to you, and Ethan quickly sat down. Without hesitation, your hands flew to his belt, unzipping his jeans as you reached into his boxers. “Together.”

His breath hitched within his throat as he ushered you into his lap, hovering above one of his thighs. Ethan kissed you, swallowing your needy moan in the process — you could taste yourself, the lewdness of it all. He didn’t need any guidance as he slid two fingers against your slick cunt.

It was instantaneous — the both of you were catching fire, succumbing to basic instinct and desire. You began to steadily stroke along his cock, thumb caressing the tip of his erection, oozing with precum. Ethan gasped, hips stuttering as he bucked into your palm.

Your body rolled into his hand, digits sluggishly seeking your entrance. You guided him there, noticing the way his gaze had flickered from your face to your body. You whimpered when he sank his fingers into your tight heat, pistoning in and out.

A string of saliva connected your swollen lips to his, but Ethan didn’t stop kissing you. They turned from gentle and exploratory to rough and wanton, tongue briefly tangling with yours.

Between the dimly-lit, sienna glow of the room and the thrum of the bass downstairs, you were lost in his touch, floating away into the blissful taste of his mouth. He was all around you and in your blood, like the surging of the music.

You didn’t stop whatsoever, palm slick with his precum as you pumped along the length of his cock, mesmerized by that glazed, lovestruck look in his eyes. You were wonderfully naive, oblivious to the hungering darkness and obsession that rested within Ethan’s pretty stare.

“I want you.” Ethan’s voice reverberated in between strings of heated kisses, sending a wave of heat all throughout your body. There was a stark juxtaposition between the meek, inexperienced boy and the darker, deeper tone he had just now.

You felt his desire seep into your very bones, rocking atop his thigh as his digits continued to piston in and out. Ethan was content to finger-fuck you into your orgasm, thumb seeking to toy with your clit. It caused you to gasp and shiver with delight, feeling his teeth momentarily catch your lower lip.

A soft, simpering whine left you, one hand digging into the nape of his neck as the other stroked along his cock. The intensity only continued to mount, rising like the swell of a tide. Ethan’s hips began to stutter as he let out a groan of his own, cumming into your palm.

It was messy, hot and sticky in glistening tendrils across your thigh, and you were right behind him. As you sank forward, he curled his fingers just slightly, sending you into the white-hot explosion of your release. There was a newfound spot on his jeans from where you’d been moments prior.

“Shit,” He huffed, somewhat abashed about making such a mess. His curls were disheveled, flesh shimmering with perspiration, face noticeably flushed. “Ah … Sorry.” Admittedly, Ethan loved the sight of you like this, stained with his seed, but he didn’t want to scare you off.

As you recuperated, you reached for your dress, unable to bite back the smitten smile on your features. “It’s okay,” You giggled. “I thought it was hot.” You confessed, using the spare t-shirt in your purse to clean yourself up. Something to throw in the washer, later.

Ethan blushed, clamoring to zip his jeans up as you shimmied back into your panties and dress. He noticed you struggling with the zipper towards the small of your back. “You need some help?” He asked, voice unusually soft as he stepped closer.

“Thank you,” The gesture was sweet, something that you didn’t expect. Regardless, you let him zip you back up, noticing the way he’d simply lingered close by as you buckled your heels around your ankles. “I should get going. I’m sure my friends are wondering where I am.”

“Wait,” Ethan’s hands involuntarily flew toward your hips, gently pulling you close. “I want to see you again.” Even if he had duplicitous methods of getting your phone number, he wanted this to be organic.

“Okay,” Despite having a hookup in the empty room of a frat house, you did want to see him again, too. He was painfully sweet — and that was hard to come by. “I want to see you again, too. Here.”

You wrote your number down on the cardboard chest-plate of his knight costume. He said he left his phone back at the dormitory — and you came prepared with the half-dried ink pen wasting away in the bottom of your purse.

By the time you and Ethan made it back out to the party, he was being hauled away by his friends, and you had found your group again.

If he had it his way, the next time you’d see him, you’d be at the end of his knife.

#slasher x reader #slasher x you #ethan landry x reader #ethan landry x you #ethan landry smut #ghostface x reader #ghostface x you #ethan landry fanfiction #slasher fanfiction #slasher fanfic #slasher fandom #slasher x y/n #scream fanfiction #scream

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adiproseprose · 11 months

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‘God, I can’t wait for you to explode’

‘Just imagine this helpless piggy too big to walk’

‘No doubt she’ll be immobile soon…’

The addicting tight rush of fullness settles in my bloated gut. My third straight pitcher of weight gain shake collapses to the floor, and I struggle to shake the numbness out of my toes. If I could see them I’d know they were swollen and startlingly red, but I can’t see shit past my massive tits, hanging low to the center of my belly. I sink back into the couch and rub myself off, sausage fingers snaking into my underwear. My chins serve as a resting place for my exhausted head.

I’ve always been something of an extremist. There was a time where I would count the calories on a baggy of baby carrots. I was a whore in every sense of the word, skinny as a pencil and duller than an eraser. I didn’t need anybody, I had the attention of every boy I made eye contact with. Skipped college and became a model, traveled all over the world. If you want, you can get my before and after shots. 45 bucks a piece, 112 vrs. 675.

Nobody pays attention to you when you’re fat.

I kicked the ball down the hill when my agency fired me, parents claiming I was giving their kids bulimia or some bullshit. The ball began to collect years of sugar, fat, salt and grease, hardly able to get out of bed without a mouthful of fresh endorphins. My veins swelled with lard, stomach overstretched and doubled over onto my fat padded knees.

It was all very discouraging at first. I heard the gossip as I toddled along to my convenience store for my nightly dinner of mars bars and oven fries, about how tiny I used to be, if I was really the same girl. ‘Nobody wants to rub out a fat girl’.

I drank a lot. Partied a lot. Had a lot of shitty, desperate sex that ended after 4 minutes with a sigh and a cigarette. Then I met this guy. He grabbed my belly and afterwards told me I could make a killing if I kept gaining weight. I told him to fuck off but I looked into it. Feedism is a deep, dark, somewhat fucked up world. But money is green, so I did some analysis. What did they like about these women, big asses, big tits, double chins? These women are making thousands of dollars just to eat.

I piled on fat like batter in a cake tin. I’m round up top, double belly and huge boobs. Thickness in my face that I don’t love, but my ass is rounder than the moon.

“Ohhhh…fuck *HIC*...fuck me. I might’ve had too much, guys.” I whine to the camera. I rub and shake my belly.

“BURRPPP!”

I like to read the comments while I masturbate. I scroll, an endless stream of aroused fans.

‘700 bucks if you do a fourth!!111’

‘7 HUNDO!!!!!’

Over and over again this bitch. I roll my eyes. “500 dollars for another one Mr…Pigfarmer?”

‘YES!!!’

He donates. And I fix the shake on my coffee table, bringing it to my lips. I wince. I really do not wanna throw up.

“Gonna do this for you, Pigfarmer. Whoooo boy..”

I down the shake in maybe 2 minutes and let the empty pitcher land on the floor with the others. “So *huff* fucking…fat. Can barely get… off the couch anymore..ughhhh…”

‘I will feed you until your fucking feet fall off’

‘I can help you off the couch!!!’

‘I’ll feed you and fuck you until you can’t move baby’

This isn’t enough. I need to be fat enough to where anything is monetizable. Walking out to the car. Going up stairs. I’ve made a few sets of my rolling out bed, when my joints are aching and my waddle is exaggerated the most.

I don’t get much out of this besides the money. If anything, it makes me feel gross. But I blend in effortlessly, I’ve gone so deep. I’m not a feedee. I am a fat fucking whale who happens to be fat because it makes me ridiculous amounts of money. It makes it a lot easier to smile.

“Alright, guys, I’m gonna hop off. See you guys next time!! Love you!”

I click. 1700 dollars from an hour stream. Not too bad. I wipe the sweat off my forehead and drum my belly. I’m numb. I’m covered in grease, shake powder and cum. I can barely make it through my day without that tight fullness now. I wheeze deeply as I contemplate what to eat for dinner.

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mamisfavmosher · 10 months

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you’ll regret it // rhea ripley x fem!reader

this idea has been rotting in my brain for a lil while, so here you go...

Minors DNI!!!!

Warnings: smut, overstimulation, crying, slightly dark!Rhea, slight poly with other judgment day members, slight humiliation, swearing, hitting, light bondage, sex toys. let me know if I missed any.

Summary: you’re in for a punishment after giving Rhea some attitude.

NOT PROOFREAD

Reader’s POV

Rhea had worked hard over the past few weeks, training you to win your match against Raquel Rodriguez. She was a powerhouse and Rhea knew you would need extra training to win against the stronger and taller woman. Rhea had deemed herself the perfect candidate to train you as she had tag teamed with Raquel in the past and knew how to counter most, if not all, of her moves. You and Rhea had poured every ounce of energy into the last few training sessions, so much so that Rhea was sure you were going to win.

But that didn’t happen. Raquel had used a move that Rhea didn’t put you through in training, causing your mind to blank for a few seconds and allowing her to take the win. Needless to say, Rhea was fuming. She had been cheering you on ringside and roughly yanked you out of the ring after the bell had been rung. You could feel the anger radiating off of her and refused to meet her fiery gaze. She dragged you backstage and practically threw you into the dressing room. Slamming the door behind her, Rhea stood in front of it and crossed her arms over her chest, giving you an icy glare. You knew she wasn’t going to speak first, her anger already on the verge of exploding from her.

“Rhea-” You dared to make eye contact with her and immediately regretted it, looking down at your shoes. “I’m sorry. I didn’t-”

“You’re sorry?” Rhea cut you off. “Sorry for what? How you wasted weeks of my time training you for a match that you lost within 15 minutes? Or how you misrepresented The Judgment Day? Huh?” She slightly raised her voice and took a few steps toward you.

“I didn’t mean to!” You attempted to defend yourself.

“I don’t give a shit that you didn’t mean to! You lost the fucking match!” Rhea was now close enough to be looking down at you.

“Well, it’s not exactly my fault that you didn’t train me well enough! I didn’t see that move once during our sessions!” Your eyes widened as you spoke, but you couldn’t stop the defensive response. You watched in fear as the deadliest of expressions crossed her face.

“The hell did you just say to me?” Her threat came out as a whisper, twice as venomous. You attempted to take a step back, but she was quick to grab you by your neck and hold you in place. “Say it again. I dare you.” Her hand squeezed and you knew it was in your best interest to stay silent. You simply shook your head as best as you could and she released your neck from her vice grip. Rhea looked away for a split second and you took that chance to try and turn away from her, but she was too angry at the moment to let you get away so quickly.

Her hand fisted in your hair and yanked you back to face her, tilting your head up to look at her face. Before you even had time to blink, her free hand came up and slapped you. Not hard enough to leave an impacting mark, but enough to leave a burning sting to remind you who was in charge.

“If you ever speak to me like that again, you’ll regret it.” She threatened you as her grip on your hair tightened, daring you to fight back. You weakly shoved at her chest to get her to loosen her grip on you, but she didn’t budge.

“Let go of me! It hurts!” You reached up to try and pry Rhea’s hand out of your hair as you complained.

“You should’ve won the match!” She taunted you, an evil smile on her face as you clawed at her hand.

“You’re such a bitch sometimes...” You huffed out, not prepared for the consequences. Almost immediately, her hand moved from your hair and closed around your throat again, her free hand slapping across your face with immense force. You felt your eyes water from the impact. “Mami-” You started.

“Shut up.” Rhea spit the words out like venom. “I told you you’d regret it if you talked to me like that again.” She forcefully backed you up and shoved you onto the couch, yanking and pulling your ring gear off until you were completely bare. You simply whimpered and watched in silent fear of what was to come. “Lay down.” She pointed to the top of the coffee table in front of the couch as she rummaged through a bag on the floor.

You did as you were told, afraid of angering her further. The table was hard against the back of your head, but you knew better than to complain right now. Rhea pulled out some rope and a vibrator, setting the items on the floor next to the table. You turned your head to watch what she was doing as she grabbed the rope and started tying one of your legs to the leg of the table. The hard edges of the table were digging into the back of your leg as she tugged and pulled with the rope.

“It kinda hurts...” You said softly in hopes that there was still some sense of humanity left in Rhea. She only tightened the rope in response, causing you to wince.

“Get over it. You’ll be up here for a while.” Her reply was blunt and aggressive. You shut your eyes tightly, attempting to block out the pain when she tied your other leg to the table using the same amount of force. She swiftly moved around the table to bind your wrists together, attaching the rope somewhere under the table so your arms were bent back. You winced at the pain.

Rhea moved back to where she had set the vibrator down and picked it up while turning it on to a medium level, placing and angling it right onto your clit. You immediately let out a moan as the vibrations hit the bundle of nerves, closing your eyes at the pleasure. Rhea sat down on the couch to enjoy the view. Wave after wave of pleasure rolled through your body and left you a moaning mess in front of the dominant woman.

“Mami, I- I’m gonna cum!” You gasped out as you attempted to arch your back off the table.

“I don’t want to hear your pathetic begging, slut. Go ahead and cum. This is only the first orgasm of many.” Rhea said with an irritated tone. She pulled out her phone to pass time and lifted her legs to rest them on your stomach, crossing her feet comfortably. A loud moan from you rang out within the room as your orgasm rushed through your body, your breathing heavy and deep. You let out a yelp as Rhea reached over and turned the vibrator on to the highest level. She got comfortable again and scrolled through her phone as you squirmed from the uncomfortable vibrations.

It felt like hours that you were tied to the table to endure orgasm after orgasm as Rhea watched with a sadistic smile. Tears rolled down your face as you moaned through another orgasm.

“Mami, please! Please turn it off! I can’t-” A small sob left your mouth when the vibrations continued on your oversensitive clit. “No more... please.” You whimpered. A low chuckle could be heard from Rhea and you looked up at her with more tears rolling down your cheeks. She had removed her legs from resting on your stomach and was sitting up, leaning her elbows on her knees to get closer to you.

“Look who’s the bitch now. Whining and crying for Mami to stop pleasuring you. You’re so ungrateful.” She snarled before reaching over to grab the vibrator, pressing it harder against you and rubbing it up and down your slit. “C’mon, use your manners, little slut. Thank me.” A smirk rose on her lips as her torture caused you to cry out. You bit your lip to try and distract yourself from the discomfort. “I said, thank me.” You felt the knot in your stomach that was now painfully close to unravelling once again, your mouth staying shut as the next orgasm rolled through you. “Thank me or I’ll call the boys in to watch the rest of your punishment play out.” Her words caused your eyes to widen and a whimper to leave your mouth. Unfortunately, she took that as your answer. “Fine, have it your way.” She placed the vibrator back down on the table so that it was still touching you and started typing on her phone.

Not long after, as you writhed and sobbed in overstimulation on top of the table, there was a knock on the door. Rhea finished strapping something to her thigh and moved to open the door for the boys.

“Hey, guys. Come on in.” She held the door open for them as they filed in and smirked at the sight of you.

“What’d she do to deserve this?” Damien asked with a chuckle.

“She gave me attitude. Clearly, the little brat needs some humiliation.” Rhea cracked her knuckles as she spoke with the boys. “You guys are just here to watch for now, but if she tries any more attitude, you all can join in on the fun.” She said the last part louder to make sure you heard her. You were still sobbing from the painful vibrations on your cunt, but you shut your eyes to try and block out the watchful gazes of the men who were now seated near you.

“Mami...” You whimpered out. She ignored you and moved to turn off the vibrator, starting to untie you from the table. Once you were free, she stood you up and you instantly turned away from the guys.

“There’s no use in hiding, little one. That pretty little pussy will be all spread open for us at some point.” Priest snickered and the other two nodded in agreement. Rhea smiled in amusement before sitting on the couch and pulling you toward her by your hips. You looked down at her lap and noticed that she had strapped a tentacle grinder to her thigh. Instantly, your eyes widened and you shook your head frantically.

“Mami, please! Please don’t make me...” You cried out once you knew what she was going to make you do.

“C’mon, baby. That pussy isn’t gonna grind itself. Come here.” Rhea patted her thigh and you begrudgingly sat down on her leg, making sure you didn’t sit on the grinder before you had to. The dominant woman gave you a pointed look before shoving your hips back so you were sitting on the textured silicone. You instantly moved off the grinder when her hands let go and circled your arms around her neck in an attempt to find comfort from her punishing ways. Rhea sighed as she felt your tears wet her neck, her hands coming up to softly stroke your back for a few seconds. “Babydoll...” She let you cry for a few more seconds. “You brought this punishment onto yourself. You’re gonna have to take it.” With that said, she pushed your hips back onto the silicone and moved them slightly back and forth to start the motion. You cried even more at the feeling of the textures running over your swollen clit.

“No, no, no, no.” You shook your head and frantically wiped away the swiftly falling tears. “I can’t, Mami, please! It hurts...” You sniffled and held onto her wrists so she wouldn’t move your hips anymore. Rhea let out a huff of annoyance and forcefully shoved your hips back so that your clit harshly rubbed over the tentacle texture, causing you to yelp and attempt to close your legs.

“Okay. Since you wanna be such a pathetic little bitch, we’ll do it like this. I want you to grind like this for five minutes without stopping. If you stop, I’ll start the timer over. When the timer goes off, we’ll switch it up a bit, okay?” You hesitantly nodded your head and watched as she set the timer on her phone. “Go ahead and start, baby.” She clicked the start button on the timer and you slowly and gently moved your hips back and forth, tears cascading down your cheeks.

“I think she could do better than that, Mami.” Dominik said with a smirk. Rhea shot a glare in his direction.

“Quiet, Dom. You can have a say when she’s done with this.” Rhea snarled. She gripped one of your hips and applied pressure so you felt more of the texture which caused you to wince.

“Mami...” You whimpered and rested your forehead on her shoulder as she kept your hips going.

“Keep going, hun. You wanna be Mami’s good little girl don’t you?” She grabbed your hair and pulled you away from her shoulder, her hand then moving to grip your jaw as you nodded. “We gotta make sure you get rid of that attitude, then.” The minutes felt like hours, but eventually, the timer finished and Rhea let you move further up her leg off of the grinder. Weakly clinging to her broad frame, you let your tears soak her shirt as you evened your breathing. She stroked a warm hand over your back as you calmed down. “Alright, bub. We’re gonna switch it up now. Boys, you have her for five minutes. Try to focus on her clit.” With that said, Rhea lead you over to the three men and left to go rummage through her bag on the other side of the room.

“C’mere, chica.” Dom pulled you down to lay on the couch where the three guys were previously sitting. Before you knew what was happening, Dom was holding your wrists together and Finn was spreading your legs. Damien quickly got to work on running his fingers through your arousal, his thumb focusing on circling your clit. He used both hands to spread your folds, letting a drop of his spit fall before rubbing it in. Your body twitched and jerked from the overstimulation, but that didn’t stop the boys. They each took a turn covering your pussy in glistening spit, refusing to rub it in so they could watch it drip down through your folds.

“Time’s up, guys. Back off.” The men let go of you and watched as Rhea bent down to get a closer look at your spit-covered cunt. She let out a satisfied hum before harshly slapping your pussy and blocking your legs from closing. You let out a small yell at the cruel surprise, the sound of a wet slap resounding throughout the room. Her hand stretched your skin taut in order to get a better aim and slapped you again with just as much force. Squealing at the pain, you attempted to shut your legs and kick away from her, successfully shoving her shoulder away. Rhea sent you a death glare and immediately looked toward Damien. “Priest, hold her down.” Damien moved behind you and grabbed your legs, forcing them open and away from Rhea.

“No! No, please, I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to kick you! Please...” Tears welled up in your eyes again as Rhea didn’t even look at you. Instead, she repeatedly brought her hand down hard on your clit, not stopping to give you a break. She watched with a sadistic smile as your body writhed with every slap and your yells rang loud in the air. Her hand started alternating between slapping and rubbing your clit.

“I want you to cum one more time and you can be done.” She glanced up at you to see you silently shaking your head, your lips wobbling to keep sobs in.

“I can’t... No more, please.” You sobbed.

“You can and you will if you ever want me to stop.” Rhea moved her fingers even faster and you felt the painful knot in your stomach once again. “You’re almost there, I can tell.” She bent down and sucked harshly on your clit, lightly nibbling on it here and there. All the different sensations caused the knot to unravel and you came with Mami swirling her tongue through your slit. She left a kiss on your clit and lifted her head to plant a kiss on your lips, her fingers gently circling your clit to get you all the way through your orgasm. Damien freed your legs and sat beside you to stroke your hair.

“Mami-” You shut your eyes tight at the feeling of irritation and sensitivity.

“I know, baby. I know.” She shushed you and pulled you onto her lap, hugging you to her chest tightly. “You did so good, pretty girl.” She held your face and planted soft kisses where your tear streaks were. “So good for Mami.” A weak smile played on your lips at the praise before you broke down into tears again due to your tingling pussy. You cried into Rhea’s shoulder, feeling safe and protected in her embrace.

“I’m sorry, Mami. I swear I won’t ever be mean to you again.” You said with a pout and perked up as you received a sweet smile from her.

“You better not, or it’ll be worse than this.” She lectured you. “Alright, hun. Let’s get you home so we can clean you up and go to bed. How’s that sound, sweet girl?” Rhea wiped away any more stray tears and smugly watched as you hugged the boys goodbye, Dom giving you a quick little spank when he embraced you causing you to yelp. He let out a chuckle before the three of them headed out.

“I’m proud of you, babydoll. I really am.” Rhea gave you a loving smile and helped you get dressed. “C’mon, let’s head home.”

#rhea ripley #rhea ripley x reader #the judgement day #dominik mysterio #damian priest #finn balor #wwe #wwe raw #wwe superstars #fanfiction #rhea ripley fanfiction

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ofallthingsnasty · 4 months

Text

pairing: sanji x f!reader tags: crack treated seriously, sanji being sanji, dental student!reader but written from sanji's pov so no medical knowledge needed, fat reader (especially in the belly and tits), suggestive, minors dni, law starring as the resident cockblock word count: 1.8k note: weeks ago I talked about how I parked my tits on the forehead of my patient while doing my first frontal filling years back and immediately got the worst possible idea for a little fic. dedicated to that very same young man. I'm still so sorry dude you were a real one 😶

Sanji feels like his pants are going to explode any moment now. When he got up this morning, he hadn’t expected to have the fingers of a woman down his throat - feeling, massaging and palpating. Admittedly, you’re a little rough with him because you’re untrained but that slight tickle of his gag reflex your fingers evoke is hotter than he thought it could be. He has half a mind not to chase them with his tongue, not wanting to scare you off.

Of course, your intentions are innocent. You’re trying to see something that is entirely beyond his scope but hey, he isn’t the professional here. (Or on the road to be a professional, considering that you’re still a student.) The last time he went to the dentist it had certainly been different - curt, clinical and without much frou-frou - but whatever it is they’re teaching the students nowadays, he finds himself very much agreeing to it. Maybe a bit too much, he thinks and tries to fight the half-chub with thoughts of his old man.

It’s hard, pun intended. You are a dream in starched white directly in front of him, round face scrunched up in concentration. Clearly, you’re taking your task very seriously but that doesn’t help him much with staying composed when you’re clumsily whipping his head around by his teeth, the touch demanding and a little careless. You don’t seem to be the bossy type but there is something about sitting beneath a beam of cold, white light while getting thoroughly inspected by a soft-cheeked, lovely woman that makes his face traitorously warm. “Alright”, you say and pull your fingers out of his mouth, white nitrile shiny with his spit, your skin peeking through the stretched material.

He briefly wonders how they’d feel wrapped around his-

Shit.

“Mucosa looks healthy, gingiva is inflamed, though”, you say to your assisting student, as you turn away from him again - some skinny dude with a severe expression and a goatee. “Can you write that down?”

The guy just nods behind a paper file and Sanji can see it shake with the pressure of a pen against printed-on lines. There is a name tag clipped to his chest but Sanji is ignoring it on purpose. He doesn’t like him at all - he had given the blond nothing but filthy looks after Sanji had offered you his first name upon introduction, and even interrupted him when he was only trying to make (perfectly harmless) small talk. Something about time being of essence but Sanji is just not buying that.

Asshole.

They had battled it out via eye contact when Sanji had to gurgle that god-awful mouthwash for a solid minute and the only thing he won in those sixty seconds was the knowledge that Goatee has terrible manners.

Just his luck, he figures. The one chance he has to be meticulously pampered by a pair of cute dental students has to be ruined by some pierced killjoy. This situation could only have been worse if (by some miracle) Zoro turned out to be your assistance. But fortunately that man knows as much about teeth as he does about navigation: fuck all.

It had been Nami who had recommended the student program to him when he noticed a pesky, dark spot right between his incisors - and while she was intent on saving him money, he was more taken by the thought of being put into the care of aspiring dentists like you. Sanji had been sold. And he had been even more thrilled when he got that first call from you, your voice promising nothing but prowess, delicate hands in his mouth and a sweet face to stare at. (Okay, maybe your hands aren't so delicate after all - but one smile from behind your mask and all is forgiven.)

Too bad your sweet glory comes with a lanky, pierced guard dog.

“Have you had any injections in the past?”, you ask and pull him out of his reverie, a syringe already in your dominant hand. “Ever had any troubles with them?”

He shakes his head no and tries to keep his breathing even when you duck down to him, hunched over as you push his upper lip towards his nose in one swift notion. “This is gonna sting a little. And you might feel a little pressure.” Indeed, it does - but it’s so miniscule that he can barely call it a pinch. Your concern for him is incredibly cute, though. Your hand is a little shaky as you press the liquid out of the needle but aside from the feeling of liquid pooling underneath sturdy skin, he feels nothing. He watches as you furrow your brow and let out a sigh of relief when the syringe is empty. You’re clearly nervous and he wants it to be because of him so, so badly but unfortunately, he knows better.

“It’ll be over soon, you’re doing so well”, you say after putting the needle away and take his upper lip between your index finger and thumb and slot the digit right into the fold that his mucosa forms, gently pulling and rubbing at the same time. “Just a little longer, can you do that for me?” Oh, he’d do much more than this for you, he thinks but the only thing that comes out of him is a weak gurgle.

Goatee scoffs next to him.

“I think you didn't inject enough. You might want to re-apply some.”

“No, I gave him almost two milliliters, that should be enough”, you say and he can tell you’re pouting underneath the mask. Sanji swears the other man grins for a split second. “Bummer.”

“Alright, we’ll just do some prep while the anesthetic kicks in, okay?”, you ask and don’t even wait for an answer. He watches you while you flit around the tiny space, gathering things on the little tray that hovers above him, nods and smiles when you do your best to apply a clunky dental dam and lets you move the chair into the right position. When you’re done, the world is almost upside down, with his head tilted and you right in the center of it all, trying to adjust the light above you.

“Any moment this gets uncomfortable, you tell me immediately, alright?”, you say far above him and he’s grateful that Goatee is doing a great job at using that little saliva tube because he’d be drooling otherwise.

Framed by a pair of thighs, your warmth just at the tip of his head, your breasts almost a shelf between him and your face. This is how he wants to die, he thinks. Just a whole lot of soft woman surrounding him. But it’s only just about to get better.

You take the drill into your hands and inch closer until he feels something solid, yet soft touching him. He realizes that it’s your belly at the same time your assistance does, because as his eyes go dinner-plate-wide, Goatee hisses your name through clenched teeth. “Posture.” Never has Sanji hated another man more than him in this very moment. “Oh, thanks”, you beam, so genuine it makes him want to cry. Unfair. Life is entirely unfair. He wallows in self-pity while you let the bur whir. It’s astounding that he really doesn’t feel anything but the pressure and the low vibration that makes his bones swing, too bad it’s exponentially less wonderful when he could have marveled at the feeling and that warm softness touching him. “You know”, you start the moment the instrument buries itself into his enamel, talking as if you’re both contemplating life over some wine. “Your gums are really inflamed. I can tell that you smoke a lot.” Not able to really answer because of the thin sheet of latex over his mouth, he simply hums in confirmation. He can tell that it bothers you - adorable, you’re worried for his health - because you had been downright shocked while going through a questionnaire with him earlier, shooting Goatee looks that only could be described as Are you hearing what I’m hearing? when he confessed to smoking a pack a day.

Well, old habits die hard. “You should really consider quitting or at least cutting down-”, you start and continue to list all the terrible consequences his nicotine addiction might bring, all the while you’re swinging around that little diamond bur like it’s a pen. And, still unable to answer, he hums. If he was able to, he’d probably tell you that he’d do anything for you as long as you let him live between your tits, preferably until the day he draws his last breath. Fuck. It’s definitely the wrong line of thought, especially because they’re so close in this position. He swears he can see the color of your bra peek through your scrubs - he’d almost be giving in to the next little daydream if it weren’t for the fact that you seem to hunch over ever so slightly while you work. Too lost in your thoughts, you seem to have forgotten about the warning you received earlier and let your body curl into itself to get a better view at his tooth. Closer, just a little closer, he thinks, almost going cross-eyed as you concentrate more and more on the task at hand and less on sitting straight. Not even Goatee seems to notice, too focused on helping you. God, are you wearing pink? The thought is enough to send a rush of blood back down to his crotch, his hands gripping the seat underneath him like his life depends on it. He’s desperately trying to think of a million unpleasant things at once - he’s not trying to spoil your efforts. You had been so eager on the phone, had told him that frontal fillings are hard to get. It’d be a shame to ruin that opportunity for you but- The very last few ounces leave his head when he can finally feel that heavenly touch of fabric-cupped fat right on his forehead, the slightest kiss of heaven underneath blessed sterile light. Angels are singing somewhere, he’s sure, and if his mouth wasn’t already open, he’d let out the most pained silent scream to ever exist. Your tits are heavy, they’re warm and they were made to rest on his face until he suffocates and by god, you just don’t back off. Sanji is nothing but a pathetic little prey animal caught between your soft belly and your breasts and he can do nothing but play dead in hope that he might come out of this alive, somehow. You shift your weight, probably reach for the tray in front of you, imaginary violins start playing and it’s officially over.

He slacks against your touch before he can even gurgle for attention (and really, does he want to? If he were to die right now, it would be an honor, a befitting end), the world around him growing quiet, a screen of white taking over. Wherever he is going to is warm and cozy and has a magnetic pull on him, so he follows.

The last thing he hears is you calling his name and Goatee barking orders - because of course he has to get the last word in. “I told you to keep your back straight, god fucking dammit-”

And if you learned one thing that day it was to get your milkers out of people’s faces lest they faint 😔

#sanji x reader #one piece x reader #/sanji #/one piece #chubby reader #fat reader

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somanyratsinthewalls · 7 months

Text

Kinktober Special Part 4

Mo’s Kinktober Special

The Crew’s Whore (Part 4) (+18)

Summary: You are the former owner of the Grand Line’s most popular brothel. Your power fighting abilities got the attention of the captain of the Straw Hat Pirates. He had asked you to join their crew but what would you bring to the team? Your battle skills were hardly comparable to many of the other Straw Hats… but you actually had a great skill. Your years working as a high end escort had prepared you to become the private plaything for this pirate crew. You joined the Straw Hats as their personal sex toy.

Pairing: Usopp x afab!reader

WC: 3200 ehehehe

TW's: Alcohol consumption, cowgirl, face sitting, oral sex m receiving, blowjob, a little exhibitionism, virginity loss, virgin usopp :( , oral sex f receiving, pet names, begging, submissive usopp :(

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3

Chapter 4: The Liar

——

Earlier in the Day…

Zoro, Sanji and Usopp sat side by side on the railing of the deck watching their fishing poles in the water. The stores of meat were getting a little on the low side, and the whole crew knew what a nightmare their captain would be if there was a shortage of food, so it was all hands on deck for fishing duty.

“So I had y/n in the bathroom the other day, it was insane.” Zoro starts after several long minutes of silence and no bites on the hooks.

“Yeah, I KNOW.” Usopp snaps back at the mention of what he walked in on a few days ago.

“Haha oh yeah, I forgot about that.” Zoro chuckled and leaned back on his arm. “Sorry I’m not sorry, you were bound to see it some time. I don’t know why you don’t just have her for yourself for once, you’d understand it then. Oh wait, you’re too chicken shit.”

“Chicken shit? Oh sorry I RESPECT women, and whatever configuration you had her in was NOT respectful.” Usopp shot back at the swordsman.

“Oh yeah? Then why was she cummin’ all over the floor? Seemed pretty respectful to me.” Zoro smirked.

“He has a point, moss head. You obviously have no idea how to truly, romantically, pleasure a woman.” Sanji didn’t even turn his head to insult Zoro.

“At least I’m not in there whimpering and begging! You think you’re quiet? It’s gross, shitcook, be a real man.”

Sanji stood up, abandoning his fishing pole, his right ankle beginning to flame.

“Oh you want to fucking go, asshole?”

Zoro stands up to unsheathe a single sword.

“Anytime, curly fuckface.”

“You guys really suck, man, I hope y’all know that.” Usopp sighed and grabbed his fishing pole to move it to the opposite side of the ship. He plants his pole against the railing as he lets Sanji and Zoro’s yelling fade into the background.

“HEY BROS? I SPECIFICALLY SAID NO DIABLÉ ON THE SHIP! CUT IT OUT!” Franky’s booming voice came from the top deck as he interrupted the idiots’ argument.

Usopp thought about what Zoro said… he wasn’t chicken shit…

— —-

That Same Day, Much Later

This evening aboard the Thousand Sunny, the weather was warm and quite breezy. As per usual there was a large spread for dinner that Sanji had expertly prepared, and the alcohol was certainly flowing. You sat in between Luffy and Usopp, your ear drums basically exploded from the decibel of their laughing and story telling.

“-And if I wasn’t there, that old lady AND her cat would have DIED!” Usopp was regaling the crew with some ridiculous story about a walnut tree that had been set on fire back in Syrup Village. Was it true? Absolutely not. Was he adorable? Of course.

Luffy was laughing his ass off, believing every word.

“Wow Usopp! You’re a real hero! I bet Mr. Snuggles owes you his life!” Luffy said between bouts of laughter.

You giggled before you leaned in and poked the tip of Usopp’s nose, teasingly.

“You’re so cute, you know that?” You chuckled at him.

“I.. uh…” Usopp stuttered out before quieting down, his cheeks flushed a dark red. Luffy, oblivious, picked the conversation up again, telling a story about a cat he accidentally tried to eat during his childhood with the bandits.

After everyone had their fill of food and drink, the crew each returned to their own respective tasks and business. You hung in the galley for awhile, drinking another glass of wine and drying dishes for Sanji. He was always such a good boy for you, why not help him out?

One finishing your task, you gave Sanji a peck on the cheek, to which he fussed and fawned over you briefly, and you grabbed another glass of wine before heading down the stairs towards your room. With airy steps and chardonnay in your hand, you treaded down the hall towards the bedrooms. Before you turned the corner you heard something. A beautiful melody was being played somewhere nearby and it caught your ear. You decided to follow the enchanting sound to the door of the lounge and you pushed it open.

Inside, Brook was playing a gorgeous tune on the piano alone. You smiled seeing him so happy and in his element. You sauntered over to the piano bench and sat down next to the large skeletal man. He notices you next to him and slows his playing to a softer volume.

“Oh beautiful y/n! How nice of you to join me! Any requests?”

“No, this is great. What you’re playing is lovely, please continue.” You sip your wine and close your eyes, enjoying the soft notes from the piano keys. Brook finishes his song and you clap your other hand to the wine glass gently to mimic applause.

“Bravo, Bone Daddy.” You smile. You continue, “You know… I am sorry that you can’t… you know…”

“Oh, don’t worry sweet y/n. It’s quite alright, it’s the thought that counts, right? Yohoohoho!”

“Hmm… I guess you’re right… Here.” You stand up from the piano bench and slide out. You hike your thumbs underneath your short, black pleated skirt. You grab the edge of your pink lace panties and pull them down to your ankles and step out of them. You grab your panties and fold them up nicely. You grab one of Brook’s skeletal hands and place the panties in them and close it up. “Keep em. My treat.” You wink and you turn to walk out of the lounge. As you leave you hear unintelligible thanks spill from Brook’s bony mouth, saying he would cherish them as long as he lived (too bad he was already dead).

You chuckled to yourself as you closed the door to the lounge behind you. You realize your glass was once again empty, so you returned to the galley to fill it. You poured another full glass of wine before heading out to the deck again. It was quiet, but you notice Usopp sitting on the deck fiddling with his slingshot and some sort of supplies from his bag.

“Well hey there,” You holler at him from across the deck and begin to saunter towards him.

“Oh, hey y/n. What are you doing out here?” Usopp doesn’t look up from his project.

“Just hanging out. Though I’d enjoy this nice weather.” You walk towards the railing of the ship and lean forward on it.

“Yeah it is nice out, hey if you go back in for another drink could you grab me a-“ Usopp looks up towards you facing outwards towards the sea. You were leaned over the railing and the wind was blowing your skirt up over your ass. Having taken off your panties, your bare cunt and cheeks were on full display for him.

Usopp instinctively jumped up and moved his body behind yours to cover you. Although there was no one else on the deck, he thought to immediately shelter your most intimate bits from any prying eyes. You felt him behind you and shot up.

“Usopp…” You ask as you turn yourself around to face him, chests almost touching.

“Y/n! What the hell are you doing? You…” He whispers and looks around, “you don’t have any panties on!” He very quietly but very harshly breaths out at you.

You giggle.

“Oh, that? Yeah. Does it bother you, Usopp? You don’t like seeing my pussy on the deck like this?” You tease him as you step closer to him, bringing your breasts to press against his torso.

“No I mean I never said- I mean no! Wait yes I mean yes! Hold on, no, no I don’t dislike it I just-…” His brain was fried as if he just stuck his finger in an electrical socket. He could feel your nipples through your tight crop top.

“Ohhh… so you DO like it?” You purr at him.

“YES obviously, yes it’s great I mean-“ He stutters as you wrap your hands around his neck. You pull him closer to you and you gently press your lips against his to shut up him. He freezes. It took at least a full 30 seconds for him to start kissing you back. Usopp finally gathers the courage to place his hands on your waist as you kiss him deeply. You pull back, holding the side of his face with one hand, looking into his nervous eyes.

“Would you like to take me back to your room, Usopp?” You seductively ask. He blinks blankly at you. He wasn't chicken shit. He grabs your hand and pulls you quickly through the ship to his room.

Closing the door behind you, you wrap your arms around him again, consuming him in another heavy make out session. You could feel his hands on your body shaking.

“Nervous, sweetheart?” You pull back and coo at him.

“Ha, nervous? Nah, no never. I do this all the time! You know I used to have a girlfriend back in Syrup Village, she was basically a princess and she and I-“ You press your finger to his lips.

“We both know that’s bullshit.” You smirk at him. You trace your finger along his lips. “You’ve never touched a woman in your life. Never felt the hot, wet mouth of a woman on your cock. You’ve never tasted the sweet release of a pretty girl on your tongue. You’ve never felt the tight squeeze of a cunt while you’re deep inside of it.”

Usopp whimpers at your filthy words. You snake your left hand in between your bodies to palm him over his overalls.

“Shit- okay fine. You got me. I have no idea what I’m doing. I want to make you feel good but I.. I don’t know how…”

“Then let me show you…” You push his body back towards the bed making him flop onto it. You slunk in between his knees and removed his clothes. You slipped out of your shirt over your head and your skirts down your legs, not needing to remove your panties since you had already gifted them to your Bone Daddy earlier. His cock was so painfully hard already, it bobbed angrily in front of your face as you pulled down his coveralls.

“Are you gonna… what are you gonna do?” Usopp asks you anxiously. “well… nothing you don’t want, okay sweetheart? I was going to take you in my mouth… if that’s alright my sweet boy?” You settle yourself between his thighs and start to stroke his cock slowly.

“Yes… I-I want to be in your mouth please…” He stares intently down at you, hypnotized by your beauty and eagerness.

“Hmm…” You hum as you slowly lave your tongue over the hot mushroom tip of his cock.

“Holy shit y/n-!”

You felt your cunt grow wet at the desperate sounds of pleasure that came from his mouth. You wanted to ruin him so bad. A loud whine escaped Usopp’s mouth as you took his full length down your throat. You brought your right hand up to cup his tight, heavy balls in your palm.

Usopp’s thighs and abs tense as you continue to work him in your mouth and your hands. Nothing but moans and heavy breaths left his lips. He had never felt anything like this before, cursing himself for being too… well chicken shit, to ask for your services before now.

“Y/n wait stop I’m going to-“

You used your left hand to grab his hip and press his body further into you as you took his cock in your mouth so far that your nose met him pelvis. Usopp whined as he released his heavy load down your throat. After several more ropes shot into your mouth, you pulled off Usopp’s dick as he flopped down back on the bed.

“Woah… I kinda get what Sanji’s been talking about now…” Usopp uttered as he stared at the ceiling. You chuckled as you snaked your body up his chest to give him a peck on the nose.

“What can I say? I’m a professional.” You cupped his face in your hand and winked at him. His expression changed.

“Wait… What about you?” Usopp looked up at you with concerned eyes. “Oh sweetie don’t you worry about that!.” You stroked his cheek.

“No… I said I wanted to make you feel good… can you… can you help me? Show me?” He desperately grabbed at your hips, grinding you down onto his cock that was already starting to harden again.

“Hm… If you insist…” You smiled devilishly and sat up on your knees and moved to hover over Usopp’s face, leaving your sopping cunt mere inches above his drooling lips. His eyes bugged wide out of his head, the sight of your gorgeous bare pussy so close to his face was too much for him to handle.

“Do you want to taste it, Usopp?” You teased at him, being barely out of his reach, not sitting down fully just yet.

“Mmm Yes! Yes just sit! Mmm please just sit down I’ll do whatever you want, just use me, please!” His speech was almost slurred due to him trying to reach his tongue out of his mouth to taste you already. You gave into his pleas and fully lowered your body onto his face. A breathy sigh of pleasure escaped your lips as his tongue prodded your weeping hole.

“Mmmprhh so-mrrph good!” Usopp whined out against your sex. He bucked his hips up shamelessly, already fully erect again. You leaned forward to grind your clit against the base of his nose while his tongue fucked your hole. You threw your head back in pleasure and moaned loudly.

“Ohhh, sweetie that’s so good! You’re so perfect for letting me use your pretty face like this. Such a good boy for eating me so well!” You praised him as you continued to ride his face, bringing yourself to orgasm.

“I’m going to cum on your face now, Usopp. You’re going to lay there and take it, right sweetheart?”

“Mhmm! Mhmm” He nodded his head as you finally pushed over the edge. Your slick juices sprayed his face and neck as you cried out. Usopp moaned underneath you as his tongue darted out of your hole to lap up any remaining release from your folds.

You collected yourself and slid your body back down his chest, your pussy dragged a wet trail down his torso as you moved. You hovered over his weeping cock, leaking a puddle of precum onto his toned abdomen.

“Would you like to fuck me now, Usopp?” You looked him square in the eye. He was so drunk on your body and pleasure.

“Yes! Yes, Please, I’d like to fuck you now! Please let me inside of you!” Once again he was begging beneath you. You could definitely get used to his. “Ok sweetheart, you can fuck me now. You’ve done so good.” You coo at him as you line his cock up with your soaked entrance and slide down. He wasn’t as long as Sanji or Zoro, but it was thick and hit your spot just right as you took him to the base inside yourself.

“Fuck-!” Usopp cries out as his hands fly to your hips to ground himself, so lost in the pleasure of your tight cunt.

“Sweetie you fill me up so nice, doing such a good job-“ You moaned out dreamily as you began to grind yourself back and forth on Usopp’s cock.

“Fuck y/n… I can’t… I just gotta…”

All of a sudden Usopp plants his feet and slams his hips up into yours making you almost jolt off his dick in the process. He hit you so deep.

“Usopp!” You cry out in both surprise and pleasure. You shudder forward and lose your balance, hands landing on his firm chest to hold yourself up. Usopp continues to piston his length inside of you at an animalistic pace as you felt that familiar tightness in your belly begin to form again.

“Shit, Usopp I- I think I’m gonna- AH!” He was bouncing you so forcefully on his cock, the soft, shy Usopp you knew was long gone as soon as he sunk balls deep into your filthy cunt. Your body was being tossed in the air with every thrust, your full breasts bouncing lewdly in his face. “Gotta feel you cum again… Fucking do it… Cum on me again…” Usopp growled out at you as he took your right nipple in his teeth. You cried out in pain and pleasure as his grip tightened on your hips, holding you so hard you knew you’d be left with black and blue marks where his fingers were now. You screamed out his name as you let your orgasm wash over your body and you released all over his lower half.

“Y/n, fuck, where should I-?” Usopp gasps out.

“Inside… Need… inside…” You choke out between gasps, your body still recovering from your orgasm.

Usopp groaned loudly as he pulled your hips down so far into his that you felt his cock kiss your cervix harshly. You whined as he shuddered and came deep inside of your still spasming pussy.

His body went limp. You leaned forward while he was still seated within you to place a gentle kiss on the tip of his nose. You tried to as gently as possible remove yourself from his overly sensitive cock. He still groaned as you pulled yourself off of him, feeling his cum drip out of you onto his hip bone in the process. You laid down next to him and wrapped him in your arms. You pulled his down comforter over both of your naked bodies. You scratched his scalp as he nuzzled his face into your shoulder, and he wrapped his arms around your lower back.

“SooOOOooo… What’dya think?” You giggled as you asked him how his first time was, already knowing the answer.

“Y/n it was-“

“GLAD YOU FINALLY GET IT, LOSER!” You both heard Zoro’s drunk, booming voice from outside Usopp’s bedroom door.

“FUCK YOU, ASSHOLE!” Usopp shouted, briefly rising from his resting place in the crook of your neck.

You both laughed. You pecked him on the lips. “Goodnight, Usopp.”

“Goodnight, y/n.”

You both quickly fell asleep in each others arms.

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happy74827 · 3 months

Text

The Calm After The Storm

[Mike Ross x Female!Reader]

Synopsis: A minor mishap sends a stressed out Mike over his breaking point, but thankfully, you're there to bring him right back down.

WC: 1624

Category: Mega Fluff, Slight Lime

It was about time that I wrote another Mike fic. Enjoy! (You best enjoy this @yoursacredqueenmother)

『••✎••』

Mike looked about ready to explode.

"Mike," you said quietly, reaching out to touch his arm. He was clenching and unclenching his fists at his sides. His breathing was coming out in short, shallow bursts. He was trying to look calm, but the way his lips pressed together and the tension in his jaw was a clear sign that he was not.

You weren't sure what was going to set him off. Maybe it was the stress of the case. Maybe it was the fact that Louis had him doing his dirty work again. Maybe it was a combination of the two.

But when he whirled on you, his blue eyes were dark. You had seen this side of him before, but it was only when Louis was being particularly nasty. It was a side that made him seem a little scary. You didn't think he would ever resort to violence, but the rage that was in his eyes now... you felt a shiver go up your spine.

"Of course, the night I planned to make dinner for you, we only have beer and cheese," he said, his voice rising. "I had a whole menu planned and then I get home and realize that my stupid, idiotic, asshole roommate ate all of the food."

"Hey, don't blame me because you don't know how to lock up the food," the aforementioned asshole said. Trevor was lounging on the couch, a beer in his hand and a half-eaten package of cheese next to him. He took another swig from his bottle and continued. "If you wanted something special, you should have hidden it from me."

That ticked Mike off even more. You saw him take a step forward, like he was going to pounce on Trevor and rip his head off, so you placed your hand on his chest. "Mike, hey, relax. It’s just food.”

"I wanted tonight to be special and then Louis decided to dump all his shit on me, causing me to be late a hour, and now when I come home to relax and make my meal. He devours it!"

"I'm a growing boy. I need sustenance."

"Trevor, you are such a—”

"Mike," you said a little louder, cutting him off. You put both hands on his chest, trying to calm him down. "Calm down, please."

He looked down at you, and his face softened. Some of the color faded from his cheeks, and his fists slowly relaxed. The tension in his jaw released, and his shoulders slumped a little.

"We'll just order pizza or something," you suggested.

"But I wanted tonight to be special," he muttered.

"It's already special," you assured him, smiling up at him.

He still seemed upset, but not quite as ready to murder Trevor. So, you pulled him by the tie, leading him towards the bedroom away from the prying eyes of Trevor — who personally, you thought to be a bit of an ass — and closed the door behind you.

You sat him down on the edge of the bed and crawled behind him to give his tense shoulders a massage. He leaned back into your hands with a sigh.

"Better?"

"A little."

You gave his shoulders a squeeze and placed a kiss at the top of his neck, near his hairline. Then another kiss right below his ear, which caused him to shiver.

"Now?"

"Mmm..."

You trailed kisses down his neck, then back up to his jaw. Your hands ran down his arms, squeezing lightly. His breathing was picking up, and you could feel him relaxing beneath your touch.

"I don’t think the fridge deserved that slam," you murmured against his skin. “You almost broke it in half."

He sighed again. “You’re right, I should’ve slammed Trevor’s head instead.

You let out a small laugh, and you kissed his temple. You moved your hands back up to his shoulders and pushed him down gently, so that his back was on the bed. He looked up at you, his eyes a bit brighter.

"So, Louis had you doing his dirty work, huh?" you asked, climbing onto the bed and straddling his waist. You slowly undid the knot in his tie, letting the silk slide between your fingers.

"Yeah. He always has me doing the boring stuff, and he never gives me credit for it."

"I thought you were technically Harvey's associate."

"I am, but Louis thinks he can order me around because he’s “in charge” of all the associates."

"Hmm, and then I suppose he blamed you for something you didn’t do?"

"Oh, you don’t know the half of it," he grumbled, his face hardening again. You ran your finger over his eyebrows, smoothing the crease between them, and his features relaxed once more.

"Well, you can worry about him tomorrow," you said, tossing the tie aside. You ran your hands over his chest, feeling the solid muscles beneath his shirt. He looked good in a suit, despite the tie he had chosen to wear today. Too tiny for his neck, but he looked handsome, nonetheless.

“I still can’t believe you wanted to make me dinner tonight, though," you teased, grinning down at him. "What's the occasion? It's not my birthday."

"No, but you told me a while back that you missed the home cooked meals back home. So I was going to make dinner, but now there's no food, so I can't, so now I'm a disappointment and a failure… again."

"First of all,” You reached out and smacked him lightly on the arm. He looked up at you in confusion.

"That's for blaming yourself. What did I tell you about doing that?"

"Blame the other guy?"

"No. Now, what did I tell you the last time you started blaming yourself for things?"

He sighed. "That it was okay and I'm human and it's perfectly normal to make mistakes, but I have to learn to not let them get the better of me and to focus on the future."

"Exactly. Now, secondly..."

You leaned down and captured his lips in a slow, gentle kiss. He lifted his hands and placed them on either side of your neck, deepening the kiss. His lips were soft against yours, and you smiled against him.

You pulled away slightly and leaned your forehead against his. "Secondly, when did I say that? I don’t remember talking about that.

"September 13th, around 4 o'clock in the afternoon. We were walking to the museum you wanted to visit, and we stopped to get hot chocolate."

"I—” You sat up, your brow furrowed. You stared down at him, wondering if he was joking, but he looked completely serious.

You knew his photographic memory was amazing, as he bragged about it constantly, but to have him remember a conversation like that so vividly and precisely? And on top of that, to have it stuck in his mind because it was important to you? You felt a surge of affection for him, and your heart swelled.

Mike noticed your look, and his cheeks colored. "What?"

A smile slowly grew on your face, and you shook your head. "You're so sweet."

"Well, I'm not exactly a piece of candy," he joked. "Unless you count Sour Patch Kids, in which case, I'm like, super sour."

"You are not sour," you said, laughing. "You're the sweetest person I know."

"Sweet like cotton candy or sweet like apple pie?"

"Hmm," you pretended to think, placing a finger on your chin. You were trying not to laugh, but the twinkle in his eye was making it hard. "Probably more like apple pie. Sweet enough without the cavities."

"An apple a day keeps the doctor away… well, technically, it would be dentist in this case, but still—"

You cut him off with a kiss, and he pulled you down onto his chest. Your noses bumped together, causing you to both giggle, but it quickly turned into a heated exchange of tongues. You were both breathing heavily, and you could feel the blood rushing through your body, making you feel flushed and hot.

Your hands were on either side of his face, your thumbs rubbing circles into his skin, while his were roaming all over your body, feeling the curve of your back, the slope of your neck, and the softness of your hair. He slid one hand underneath your shirt, and his fingers left a trail of goosebumps as they traveled up your stomach.

He broke the kiss and moved his lips to your neck, where he began nibbling and sucking on the sensitive skin there. You let out a soft moan, and you could feel him smile against you.

He rolled the two of you over, so that he was hovering over you. Those blue eyes stared into yours, and you smiled. His mouth curved up into a smirk, and you thought he’d pull your shirt off or start undoing his belt buckle.

But he did neither. Instead, he leaned close to your ear and whispered,

“Want to skip dinner and order dessert instead?"

You giggled, wrapping your arms around his neck. "Depends on what you're ordering."

"A Trevor free apartment for a few hours," he suggested, waggling his eyebrows. “Maybe some fried Oreos on the side?

You smirked as he pushed your hair back. His hand caressed the side of your face, and his thumb ran across your bottom lip.

"How about an appetizer before we get started on dessert?"

"That's my favorite part," he breathed, lowering his head towards yours. His lips brushed yours, and you closed your eyes, savoring the feeling.

Trevor was definitely an ass, but his eating habits sure did have a silver lining.

And, oh, was it delicious.

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stories4thepack · 6 months

Text

Revenge is so sweet (part 5)

Wednesday Addams x reader

Warnings: Y/n is so screwed! (swearing, descriptions of gore/blood)

“You tore apart 2 boys!”

The sheriff screamed at you, not bothering to keep his voice calm anymore. You weren’t sure how he had found you, or how you had even gotten into the dark, interrogation room. All you were really aware of were the metal cuffs digging into your wrists, possibly even drawing blood.

“2 boys, for what? A few insults?”

“They insulted Wednesday.”

You muttered, uselessly hoping that would make him shut up. Instead, he stands up quickly, causing the chair to fall behind him. He’s at your side in a second, glaring at you with complete and utter hatred.

Were cops meant to act like this?

If you were a normie, you would probably be having a calm talk and might even have a glass of water

But Normies don’t break bones with their teeth.

“So he insulted that freak, the girl who can never cease to stick her nose in police business.”

You felt that horribly pain tingling across your body as you muscles all began to ache. You gritted your teeth, desperate to find some way to stop your shifting.

“You are going to be put away for a long fucking time!”

He screamed at you, the sound making you flinch. He paused, grinning before coming closer to your face. His breath reeking of alcohol. Your heart began to pound painfully, your lungs about to explode out of your chest.

“And you will never see that bitch again.”

You snap, ripping the cuffs from the table and pounding your fists onto the arms of the chair.

“Those boys talked shit about your son too! Yeah, the Hyde, the serial killer. The one the entire fucking country is trying to find.”

The sheriff grabs the scruff of your shirt, pulling you closer to his messy, un-shaved face.

“What did you say.”

He hisses, but you cannot stop your words. Anger flowing out of you, the urge to shift again becoming almost unbearable.

“I’m amazed you still have your job, your such a mourning mess that I thought they would give you leave. No, I guess your too desperate to find your son before the bullets do!”

He throws you onto the floor, the cuffs (still attached to your wrists) drawing a flow of blood from beneath them.

“Your too good for prison,”

You growl at him, almost willing your wolf to come out just to tear him apart.

“I’ll be calling animal control!”

He takes a step closer, as if to attack, but the door flies open, revealing three armed police officers behind it. They storm into the room, seizing Sheriff Galpin and forcing him away from you. You manage to catch a glimpse of Wednesday, before everything goes black.

———————————————————————

You followed Wednesday, paws padding along the earthy ground as the sun began to set. You could hear the faint sound of a siren behind you, but you couldn’t care.

“Are you going to release my hand?”

She asked calmly, looking over at you. Your heart sped up as you realised you were still holding it, dropping it slowly. If you were in your human form, you would of blushed. But your tail wagged happily as you began to bounce around her.

“Perhaps you have lost your mind, may I remind you that you almost killed two people back there. “

You froze, was she disappointed? Out of all the people, you thought she would be proud of you. You turned to her, jumping in her path and sitting down. Forcing her to stop.

“What are you doing mutt?”

She questions, watching as you growl lowly at her. Carefully sitting up and taking an aggressive step forward.

“Y/n, you do not want to play this game with me.”

She demands, remaining rooted to the spot as you take another step forward, baring your canines at her.

“Are you going to do this because I disapprove of your actions a moment ago.”

Another step forward, another growl

“If you are going to be this childish about it then-“

She doesn’t finish as you leap at her, great paws forcing her onto the ground. She sighs, attempting to get up before you force her down with a playful growl.

“Y/n, this is an immature reactio-“

You growl at her again, pressing your nose against her throat. You hear the way she cuts herself off, the way her heart beats a millisecond faster or perhaps it was your imagination. You stay like that for a while, smelling the blood beneath her veins and giving her skin a gentle lick, receiving an almost unnoticeable shiver in return.

“Are you going to tear out my throat?”

She asks, sounding almost board of your antics. But your playful revenge was not over yet

You rear back your head, fangs on full display before biting down on her throat, careful to not hit a major artery. She gasps, surprised by your actions and yet, relishing the short pain you are putting her through. You pull away, and Wednesday notices a slight grin on your bloody wolf face.

———————————————————————

“Do not move Y/n”

Wednesday demands. You were in her dorm room in Nevermore, only having regained consciousness a moment ago. You had sat up from her bed, a blanket still draped over your body. Both your hands were on her legs, her grip firm and yet gentle as she rapped a wet cloth on your wrists, cleaning the wounds.

“They are not that deep considering how tight those cuffs were.”

You nod, unable to truly form words. You can hear the wolf barking in the back of your head. The images of Wednesday lightly trailing her hand along your fur popped to mind, a smile growing across your face. Enid sits beside you, a hand protectively around your waist. It felt comforting, being with the two people you cared about.

“Shit.”

You hiss as Wednesday dabs alcohol against your injury.

“Be quiet, do you want to die of an infection?”

“Wednesday-“

Enid mutters, causing the Raven hair to lift her head. She gives the werewolf a glare. You stay quiet as Enid slowly nods her head towards you. Words being silently passed between the two roommates.

“Enid,”

Wednesday finally says, looking back down to the blood across your arms.

“Please go to the infirmary and bring me some clean bandages and an ice pack.”

“Icepack?”

You ask, as Enid rubs your shoulder before leaving quickly.

“You hit your head.”

Your crush answers, silence passing between the two of you. You wince as she wraps your wrists tightly in the cloth, holding it firmly in place.

“Why did you wolf out when they insulted me?”

Wednesday suddenly asks, keeping her eyes fixated on your injury. You swallow nervously, desperately trying to find a reasonable excuse.

“They were being mean. It upset me.”

You mutter, attempting to hide the way you blush as her eyes meet yours.

“Yet, they insulted you many times before me. They insulted me once and you wolfed out.”

“Well, your my Friend.”

You say far too quickly, you were terrified she would reject you. Terrified she would insult you and walk away. Enid returns before Wednesday can say anything else. You notice the way she hesitates. Perhaps noticing the way she may have interrupted something. You hoped there was going to be something to interrupt.

“I’m going to find Yoko, she might have news about Sheriff Galpin.”

Both you and Wednesday nod in response. Watching in silence as she leaves the room again. You eyes are drawn from the door by the sound of Wednesday hitting the ice pack to get it to work.

“I am going to have a look at the wound on your head.”

You nod, praying that she cannot hear the way your heart beats rapidly against your chest as she comes to the side of you face. You flinch as she pressed the cloth against your bloody forehead.

She ignores you and yet seems to be that little bit gentler with you. Your wolf begins to whine in the back of your head, making you blush as you feel her fingers moving hair out of the way to check the wound.

“Shut it.”

You hiss as your wolf barks at her in your head. Wednesday pauses and places the ice pack against your head before sitting in the chair in-front of you.

“The wolf?”

“Y-yeah! How did you know?”

You stutter, embarrassed slightly. She turns away, picking up the bandages she had placed on her desk.

“Enid mentioned it happens after the first shift.”

she mutters, turning back to your wrists before beginning wrap a bandage around one of them.

Silence

Again

WHY WAS THERE SILENCE????

“There was something that I wish to ask you!”

She says, finishing covering one of your wrists before moving to the other. You smile at her, your heart pounding against your chest as if you were going to shift again.

“why did you take a bullet for me?”

She looks up, and you see it. In her cold, dark (but deep) eyes. You can see why she was asking. Why you saved her, why you shifted for her.

Hope

It seemed stupid that you hadn’t seen it before, that the very desperate feelings that you were suffering with every time you heard Wednesday’s name….. she too was experiencing. Out of everyone, you thought you would be the one person to notice all her hidden thoughts.

But love had blinded you

“I think you know the answer Wednesday.”

You whispered, leaning an inch closer. She stiffened slightly, a ghostly action, but one you caught. You freeze, allowing her to come to you.

“Are you expressing your-“

She paused, obviously unsure of the right word to use.

“I like you Wednesday, I obviously like you!”

You laugh, feeling free from the secret you had kept for what felt like centuries. You suck in a nervous breath as the raven hair looks back at you. Her face remaining emotionless

“That is why you took a bullet for me, why you would of torn apart those two bo-“

You growl, grabbing her by the back of the head and kissing her firmly. It takes a moment, but she mimics your action, leaning further into you.

When you pull away, she chooses to ignore the stupid grin that had spread across your face. You eyes scan her face, catching the faint marks of your bite in the forest earlier still fresh on her neck. You chuckle, remembering the way you had behaved, like a puppy (a love sick puppy)

“You still taste of blood.”

She mutters, attempting to hide a faint smile. You chuckle, pulling her in again, feeling the way her hand finds it’s way onto your leg. When you finally pull away, your cocky grin is impossibly big. You look at her, intertwining your fingers with hers, ignoring the faint pain from your wrist.

“Well….doesn’t my revenge taste sweet?”

#jenna ortega #wednesday #wednesday addams x reader #wednesday addams #enid sinclair #fanfiction #Werewolf #Wednesday x werewolf #fanfic #Fluff

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