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ghostlyfleur · 27 days

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𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞’𝐬 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐲 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥

eddie munson x shy!oc

contents: anxiety, curse words, friends to lovers. lovesick!eddie, inexperienced!reader, self-consciousness, first kiss, sharing clothes. eddie’s jacket is oversized on reader. can be read as x reader, but a bit oc too? carnival date.

word count: ~1.5k

eddie munson is in love.

she is entirely inexperienced in anything romantic or sexual; no first kiss, never even got close to it. extremely shy and anxious, has a seemingly innocent aura, is a bit out of sorts, ditzy, with a sort of luna lovegood vibe. doesn’t argue with people, always tears up if confronted about anything, doesn’t have beef with anyone and is a lot more rational than emotional even though she tears up so easily. also doesn’t hold grudges or care what people think of her…

the thing is, she has been introverted her whole life, a very anxious person, and so doesn’t understand that eddie munson likes her because she needs to be told how people feel about her very explicitly otherwise her mind will convince her they hate her. anxiety is like that. and she’s the kind of person that has a hard time realizing that people can perceive their existence and have feelings for them, no matter what type of feelings, so even though eddie is not at all shy about flirting with her and giving her all of the attention in the world in his over-the-top, overdramatic way, he also knows that if anything other than the friendship he’s thankfully managed to build with her is going to happen, romantic-wise, that she has to be the one to initiate it— but she’s oblivious!

on the other hand though, she doesn’t even bother hiding her infatuation with eddie — it’s a lot more than infatuation by now. she’s always looking at him with stars in her eyes and laughs at his jokes and smiles that big, square, goofy smile whenever they lock eyes and constantly praises him because he deserves to feel as special as he is, right? and she goes into detailed talks about lord of the rings with him, likes many of the same bands he does or simply lets him play his favorites for her, and she truly loves to watch hellfire play dungeons & dragons.

her eds even made her a special edition pink hellfire shirt. ‘cause he’s a simp.

one day, as she’s out with chrissy and heather outside a diner, talking and laughing and catching up, eddie is close by somewhere with friends. his van is parked nearby.

it starts getting chilly, and eddie’s girl starts shivering, so she quickly excused herself away from the girls, “gimme a second!” and reaches through the open window of eddie’s van, making a mental note to grill him about it later — “‘cause it isn’t safe, eds!” — to grab his leather jacket thinking of how he has told her over and over that she can borrow it, that “what’s mine is yours, sweets. i don’t mind sharing if it’s with you”, so she figures it’s okay, right? and goes back to the girls who are fucking smirking like they see something she doesn’t.

it’s about fifteen minutes later, and eddie is walking towards the trio, simply because he misses his girl and wants a hug, when he sees it.

she’s wearing his jacket. his jacket.

in typical eddie fashion, he makes a scene— gasping dramatically, he clutches his chest over his heart and falls to his knees, because fuck what anyone around thinks. his precious girl is wearing his fucking jacket! and she looks like a fucking angel.

“eds, what are you doin’?”

“do you know how heavenly you look in my jacket? i just had to get on my knees to worship you.”

the boy shuffles closer to his sweet girl on his knees still while he talks and she’s flustered, okay? she’s shy and her face is on fire and she’s covering her cheeks and giggling. and because it’s eddie, her eddie, she’s not running away to have a panic attack. ‘cause it’s eddie and he’s being sweet, so she can’t focus on anyone else long enough to feel crippling anxiety or embarrassment. doesn’t even care that chrissy is cooing and heather is smirking.

“that jacket is yours now, you own it. you pretty much own me by now.” eddie says, on his knees, in front of her

“it’s okay that i took it right?” she makes sure even after his display of joy, ‘cause anxiety isn’t rational “you said i—”

her eddie knows her, though. he stands up, gets real fucking close to her, so close they’re almost touching, with this look of absolute adoration and “i’d give ya everything i have if i could, pretty.”

fast forward a few days later. chrissy kept yapping on and on to the oblivious girl about how “in love” eddie is, but it’s as though her brain won’t let her even entertain the idea.

that’s until she’s having a semi-regular quote unquote friend-date with eddie, something they’ve done quite a few times before, and this time they go to the fair. they’re doing everything couples might do, eddie is very aware of this, and he’s over the moon to just be enjoying quality time with his pretty girl until she spots a photobooth, “oh, eds! we have to!” and eddie’s desperately counting coins to pay. the pictures go a little something like this:

after coming up blank with pose ideas, they just look at each other and laugh, but at the sound of his free and bright laugh, she just stares at her boy like he’s a dream come true— first pic is taken, looking at eddie like he hung the moon while he’s mid-laugh.

eddie notices her staring and goes from loud laughs to breathless ones, a smile on his lips, and whispers a soft “what?”— second picture is taken as the girl quickly presses her lips to his, her very first kiss, and it’s caught on camera.

the third picture depicts eddie’s sweet girl nervously rambling “i was going to ask for permission first, i promise!” while eddie has a glassy, dreamy look on his face, slack jawed, looking at her lips.

and at the fourth snap? eddie presses forward to shut her up with another impossibly soft and tender kiss, both of their eyes are closed and his hand is holding her jaw, thumb brushing her cheek.

after they part from the second kiss, eddie acknowledges that it was her first kiss, a shy “was that okay?” to which his sweetheart just smiles really big and nods excitedly over and over with a breathless giggle. that was the perfect first and second kiss and she couldn’t ask for more.

they hold hands the rest of the night.

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gh0st-in-green-c0nverse · 4 months

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burned

percy jackson x gn! reader — you’re all alone in an alley in NYC. what could go wrong??

tw — violence

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

You’re cold.

You’re cold and afraid, shaking in an alley somewhere in downtown New York.

You try to think about camp. About the rolling hills, the sweet strawberries, the campfire. About your friends, about target practice, the climbing walls.

Percy should be here. He should’ve been here— you check your watch — fifteen minutes ago. But he’s not, and your thoughts are running wild.

The wind howls louder. You shut your eyes.

The wound on your leg stings. You’re coiled around it, hunched forward in a meager attempt to shield it from whatever. Meet back here in 30, you’d told him. He nodded; you drew your dagger and he lifted riptide out of its sheath. And then you went separate ways, a desperate attempt to get the monsters off your trail, to confuse them by being in two places at once. It’d worked, partially, and you would’ve been fine, except for the fact that he’s not here. So you’re not fine.

There’s a commotion at the mouth of the alley, and your head snaps up.

A woman stumbles into view, smartly dressed with long blonde hair down to her waist. She notices you, and you freeze.

“Excuse me, do you have a map? I just can’t seem to—”

“y/n, no!”

Percy’s voice echoes off the walls, and your heart drops at his audible panic.

Her smile turns from airheaded to sinister. Fangs peek over her bottom lip.

Multiple things happen at once.

You lunge forward, dagger in hand, but she grabs your wrist with a vice grip. She squeezes, and squeezes, and you’re certain she’s going to snap your wrist in half when Percy rushes in, almost runs headfirst into the brick wall.

She wrenches the knife from your hand and turns it on you. Percy lifts riptide. You stumble backwards; the tip of riptide shines through her chest.

Two blades are thrusted forward. Twin gasps of pain meet your ears.

One of them sounds suspiciously like you.

The woman dissolves, dust flaking away to reveal Percy, breathing hard. His face is bruised. It’s upsetting, even though you really should be used to it by now. You just wish he would get hurt less.

Something throbs under your ribs. It feels like a cramp, but it gets worse and worse until it burns, You’re burning—

Your knees buckle and Percy runs to you. Your head doesn’t hit the ground, so you assume he caught you.

The entire left side of you is on fire. You can feel your heartbeat in your fingertips.

The delicate skin around his eye is blooming an angry red. You reach out for it weakly, and he winces when your knuckle brushes the bruise.

“You’re hurt,” you say quietly.

Percy gently grabs your hand, lowers it from his face. “I’m okay,” he soothes. “I’m right here.”

Why does he feel so far away then?

His hands move again. You’re still cold.

Your eyes flutter, tongue lead in your mouth. You realize with dim fascination that he’s cradling your face. It’d be quite intimate if your vision wasn’t darkening at the edges.

“You’re gonna be okay. They’re almost here. Just… just stay with me.”

You have so many questions. Who’s they? Why are his hands so warm?

Percy’s looking at you with a fear in his eyes that shakes you to your very bones. His eyes rake over your face as if he’ll never see you again. You still don't understand. All you know is the sinking feeling in your chest, the creeping nothing in the corners of your eyes, and the dull ache in your side.

You don't remember closing your eyes, but you do remember Percy shaking you.

“y/n,” he pleads, voice trembling in a way that you haven't heard before. “It’s alright. Just open your eyes for me, yeah? Please— please.”

He’s shivering. You feel absolutely horrible about the whole ordeal, despite your very limited understanding of the situation. You want to assure him it’ll probably be fine, that you’ll bounce back because you guys always bounce back, but this time you’re not sure.

“I’m sorry,” you rasp, the words sandpaper in your throat.

The darkness swallows you whole.

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

lmk if I should write a part two? I dunno if anyone will read it

#percyjackson #percy jackon and the olympians #pjo fanfic #pjo #percy jackson fics #percy jackson x reader #percy jackson x y/n #Percy Jackson

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your-nanas-house · 4 months

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Voldemort x malfoy reader where he’s in desperate need for an heir so he ‘does’ the reader over the large dining table with a lot of ‘yes my lord’

Love it, sorry if it took me so long 😭

Yes, my Lord

◇ Pairing: Lord Voldemort X Malfoy!Reader

◇ Warnings: age gap (both off age but it's a clear big age gap), smut, HEAVY DUB-CON, public sex, p in v, wet spell (dunno if it exists but I use it every time 😬), breeding kink, creampie... just Tom Riddle, the death eaters watch them

◇ Summary: The dark Lord was ready to have heirs.

◇ Note: Sorry for the mistakes and the English. The writing is pretty shitty, 'M so sorry and it's kind of dark.

Her eyes snapped up as soon as the dark lord pronounced her name in a strange tone, she wasn't exactly following the whole monologue that the now former Tom Riddle was gifting his followers. So she was oblivious at the topic connected to her name.

As she carefully scanned the room, her father, Lucius Malfoy, spoke with a worried expression on his face “B-But… my lord, she—” he tried, shutting his mouth as soon as the red eyes of the dark wizard glared slowly at him.

“I made my choice, Lucius… do you have anything to add?” He asked in a calm voice as he leaned closer, receiving just a head shake… the blonde man too scared to defend his own daughter in front of the older wizard.

When Voldemort called her name again, moving his slender fingers to indicate her to move closer.. she got up, her body shaking softly and sweating due to the fear and panic she was feeling at the worried expressions of her family.

She inhaled loudly as soon as the cold fingers of her lord brushed the side of her neck, traveling slowly down to her hips… making a grin appear on his face as her skin reacted with goosebump.

“Y/n, Y/n, Y/n… my poor little dove,” Tom cooed, moving his free hand in her hair before taking a firm grip and bending her down on the wooden table, a loud thud echoing in the room.

Every gaze was now staring at them, some were concerned, others worried and complacent… as Y/n's eyes started filling with tears, shutting tightly as the cold slender fingers lifted the skirt of her dress so that they could rest on her covered ass cheeks.

“My little dove, you know why I'm doing this, right?” Her lord cooed again, starting to knead her flesh harshly “I need a young cunt with a body that could carry strong heirs in it, hm” he continued while covering her now naked lower half with his cape, which swallowed the sinful act perfectly.

The death eaters had just a perfect view of the young witch’s face which showed clear fear and worry.

They could see Tom’s hand moving under the cape, silence except for noises of metal caused by his belt hitting the floor… sounds that made them stare more intently.

Some started to look away while others kept focusing on them, admiring how the older man leaned down to whisper in her ear something that remained between them before her front body hit the table harshly.

A loud whimper escaped her mouth as soon as she collided with the wooden surface, her hands grabbed into whatever she could reach as an uncomfortable whimper broke the silence.

A soft light of a spell appeared from under the fabric and little time after that her whole body jolted forward, her head hitting the table as well.

Given by the dark lord’s expression of pleasure and hers of pain the dark wizards knew that was happening.

His movements were clear and the noises loud, his thick long cock kept forcing her walls open, as he pulled almost completely out so that his tip was the only thing inside of her.

Soft whimpers kept leaving her pretty mouth, tears kept running down her face wetting her young skin as she took everything her idol was giving her.

“Take it” Voldemort hissed, holding her flat against the table while snapping his hips forward, his cock hitting her cervix in a painful but pleasurable way as hisses kept leaving his mouth.

The Parseltongue sent shivers down her spine, those hiss and smooth noises kept swirling in her head, making her wetter than usual and almost too submissive.

It was her first time, Tom knew it, and he was enjoying it way more than he should… his breath getting heavier and heavier as he moved faster and harder not really carrying to make her cum or her pleasure.

“Going to take my heir!” he hissed, his tongue daring out to lick the skin of her ear shell sinfully

“I’m gonna fill… you.. up” he added, speaking after each thrust, as he smirked evilly when her body started to shake due to the intense feelings.

Her mind was telling her how wrong the whole situation was while her body kept reacting positively— her voice even cracked softly due to his fast thrusts… making it get higher while she continued to repeat the same answer as a mantra.

The young woman's eyes rolled back as her lord cupped her breasts through the fabric of her dress, squeezing and kneading them roughly to continue the now pleasant assault.. now a bit sloppier since he was reaching his own peak.

Y/n was on the same path, and after a particularly hard thrust, her body spasmed and her jaw dropped open…. her walls clenched around his hard and veiny cock, allowing Tom to finally release inside of her. Thrusting his hips to get it deeper inside of her before slowly pulling out.

A soft sigh of satisfaction escaped his mouth, his slender hands moved under the cloak as well, assuring that his seed wouldn’t leave her body.

Both were still breathing heavily as the young witch took a couple of deep breaths, falling slowly down, her bare knees hitting the cold floor of her family Mansion.

“Lovely… You have such a wonderful and useful daughter, Lucius” The dark lord murmured in a mocking tone, petting softly her hair while staring deeply in her father’s eyes, who was still at the table

“Make sure she will be there next week, for the next… encounter” he ordered, taking a grip on her hair to move her head easily, so that her eyes could meet his piercing red ones “I will see you later, dove”.

His voice was smooth and tempting, a contrast to the rough actions that just happened… his caress feeling almost soft and loving even if his stare was just communicating pure possessiveness and domination.

Taglist:

@gabile18 , @mrsfullbuster500 , @rex-ray , @elizamalfoyy, @eovjjj , @monkeyking-and-liuer-mate , @jeremiah-va1eska , @gothamchic16, @rabbiteggz , @dieg0brandos-wife , @rottenecstasy , @lazyexcuse , @teh-vampire-bunny , @lobotomy-lover , @slasher-smasher , @sleepycreativewriter

#tom riddle fanfiction #tom riddle fic #tom riddle smut #tom riddle #tom riddle x you #tom riddle x reader #tom riddle x y/n #tom marvolo riddle #voldemort #lord voldemort #voldemort x reader #voldemort x you #voldemort fanfic #lucius malfoy

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urgonnaneedabiggership · 11 months

Text

Host of a Ghost

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara (Spiderman: Across The Spiderverse) x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Language. Spoilers (Miguel's backstory is mentioned). Mild violence. Very, very light mention of a foiled SA (not to reader). Some angst.

Word count: 4.1K

Short A/N: This man has become my hyperfixation since I watched the movie and I'd been wanting to write something with him and today finally the muse came to me do I deliver you this decent-sized thing I wrote. Hope you like it <3

PART II

“Unusual” wasn’t a word you would’ve used to describe your life at all. At least not until about a year ago.

It was unusual to find a spider with such an odd color palette roaming your apartment since you were used to more dull-colored typical critters. It was also unusual that you didn’t panic enough to turn the apartment upside down to look for the thing before it bit you, but there was too much work to do, and a million notes from Dr. Connors to go over. It was equally unusual that you hadn’t rushed to the hospital the minute you noticed the tiny marks on your thigh.

“I mean, if it was really dangerous, it would have hurt more.” Was your reasoning to ignore it and keep scanning the pages before you. Nobody said pursuing a Ph.D. was without sacrifice.

By the time you tried to stand up to make more coffee just to end up collapsing on your kitchen floor, it was much too late.

From then on, “unusual” was pretty much every day’s motto.

Having a nightmare that night about being suffocated and unable to escape just to wake up hanging upside down and wrapped in sticky shit was the first clue. Turns out you were actually able to produce said sticky shit at will in the shape of a thin thread, then you discovered the wall-climbing abilities, and before you knew it you were roaming the city at night trying to get comfortable threading between the tall buildings, running across rooftops and challenging yourself to climb this or that building as fast as you could. You felt indestructible, alive. It was wonderful.

You’d never forget the night of your first save either. For several reasons.

It was an ordinary night, right before returning to your apartment, when a violent shiver abruptly ran up your spine and every cell in your body commanded you to stop. When you did, a scuffle in a nearby alley caught your eye. A young girl was violently shoved against a wall by a man who pressed his hand against her mouth. The same second his hand came dangerously close to the zipper of her jacket, you practically tackled him from above and pinned him against the ground, having no clue of what to do besides throwing punches at his face until you knocked him out. A whimper coming from a dumpster behind made you realize you had an audience.

“Shit,” you cursed under your breath, remembering your uncovered face, the only solution at hand is to wrap your scarf around your head to try and hide as much as possible, “Oh god this feels too much like cultural appropriation for my taste,” You kept nervously rambling to yourself as you slowly approached the dumpster.

“Um…hi,” You greeted, “Are you okay? Did he hurt you?”

Being met with nothing but silence, you were about to leave when a soft voice replied.

“No. He didn’t. Thank you so much.”

“Is there…I don’t know; is there somebody you want me to call?”

“I want to call my mom.” She replied, her voice still shaking, “He took my phone.”

“Right. Phone. Okay.” You quickly made your way back to the unconscious man and pawed his clothes looking for it. He let out a groan in protest.

“Yeah it doesn’t feel right, does it asshole?” You muttered as you retrieved it from one of his pockets. Then you shoved him onto his stomach to tie his hands and legs behind his back before returning to the girl.

“Here. It still works,” You just held it over the dumpster, seeing nothing but her pale hand as it reached out to take it before you took a few steps back.

“No, wait,” She immediately pleaded, “Please don’t leave me alone with him.”

“Like hell I am. I’m staying right here.”

So you waited with her until the police arrived. However, the minute you saw the flickering lights and heard the approaching siren, you retreated into the dark part of the alley and climbed onto the nearest building to escape through the rooftops.

It wasn’t until you were back in your apartment that you realized you’d been smiling all the way home. Carefully shutting the window behind you, you let yourself fall onto the couch and screamed joyfully, the pillow muffling the sound.

She was okay. A person was okay because you could intervene and do something about it.

However, a new wave of shivers flooded your veins so abruptly that you sat down immediately.

“Yeah, I know how that feels,” Came a feminine voice from the unlit kitchen, “Being able to help, I mean.”

You scrambled to your feet and started walking backward. However, the voice didn’t remain hidden for too long. A woman emerged from the shadows, dressed in red with a yellow hairband pushing her near-afro hair back. She greeted you with a soft smile.

“Your reflexes need polishing,”

“My…?” You repeated, dumbfounded.

“And you have to learn how to fight properly. Randomly throwing punches isn’t always going to cut it,”

“I’m sorry, who are you? Why are you in my apartment? Were you following me? Do you know about…?”

“Whoa, slow down, kid. I know you have questions, and I might be able to help you with that. But you’re going to have to come with me.”

“Alright, I’ll…let me just get my car keys,”

“Oh, sweetie,” The woman said in between laughs, not malicious but truly amused, “You have so much to learn,”

You were starting to wonder why she had elongated that “o” like that until, after pressing a few buttons on the device around her wrist, something that you would’ve described as a “black hole on LSD” erupted in the middle of your living room.

That night you learned that her name was Jessica Drews and that she was completely right about you having so much to learn. With a four-second-o.

Over the following months, you became capable of things you didn’t think possible. Walls that took you a minute to climb became easy obstacles that didn’t take up more than fifteen seconds of your time, your fighting skills had also improved exponentially under Jess’s tutelage, and of course, going from a life where you could count your friends with less than one hand to being constantly surrounded by amazing (no pun intended) Spider-People who not only understood the changes you were going through but warmly welcomed you into their circle was more than you could’ve asked for.

Well, perhaps some more willingly than others. And by others you meant him.

He, who seemed to be always around, silently watching but never intervening.

He, who despite being allegedly “always locked up in his lab” always seemed to personally oversee your training since day one.

Whom you’d tried to greet as gleefully as you did the others just to receive, if anything, a vague nod of acknowledgment. In your first three months, you had spoken maybe four times. Well, you had. He only hummed, nodded, or answered in monosyllables. You knew better than to waste your energy with people like that, but for some reason you were unwilling to just accept Miguel O’Hara didn’t like you and that was that.

“For some reason” being code for “I’m one second away from fainting every time he as much as looks in my direction,”

You weren’t a child, for crying out loud. You were aware that no matter how cold, distant, and seemingly indifferent the leader of your new team was, he was an insanely attractive man. Even with the fangs…no, especially with the fangs, for some reason. His whole aura that screamed “completely-inaccessible-frighteningly-powerful-twice-my-size-man” had you harboring a huge crush on him within two months of meeting him. So painfully unrequited that it was embarrassing. Just the fact he could ignore your greetings and surely never think twice of it but you would spend the rest of the day wondering what you could’ve possibly said to make him at least say “hello” back made you want to scream into a pillow until your throat burned.

It was right up there with the time he’d muttered ‘much better’ when he saw you land a kick you’d been practicing and those three seconds kept playing on your head for the rest of the week.

The night of your first mission you decided you were going to prove your worth, not to your crush but to your team leader.

“I told him you’re ready,” Jess said with a proud smile, “He’s going to call you in sometime throughout the day to let you know where you’ll be going and with whom, probably me. How do you feel?”

“Excited, I guess,” You replied, pressing your lips together anxiously, “Also nervous. I don’t want to screw this up.”

“With me as your mentor? That’s unlikely,” Jess replied with a wink, giving you an encouraging pat on your shoulder as she walked away.

However, the day continued normally. You did some assigned tasks here and there, which mostly included helping Spider-Byte to keep everything running smoothly given your background in the tech field. You grabbed lunch, then thought it would be a good idea to train some more before going away.

You were beginning to lose all hope when, as you leaned down to fix some wiring, Lyla popped right beside your head and called your name so loudly you hit your head against the metal and hissed. One year and still you hadn’t used to the way she appeared out of nowhere.

“Oops, sorry,” She promptly apologized, “Well you’ll have to walk that off, Miguel wants to see you STAT.”

“How am I supposed to walk a head injury off, Lyla?” You joked, rubbing your forehead as you rushed across the halls with the holographical figure floating after you.

“Not in my code,” She replied using her usual excuse.

When you walked into his working space, Miguel’s back was turned to you as he used a digital pen to do some annotations on what looked like blueprints of new equipment. After he didn’t react to your presence for a few seconds, you hesitantly walked closer and cleared your throat.

“That looks nice. Is it a new suit?” You asked, as always, trying to start a conversation.

“I just received an alert about the…” He stopped and sighed as if saying the silly nickname was physically painful to him, “…the Go-Home-Machine. It said there was a small power overload since we sent back that Vulture from the 192-011 Universe.”

“Yeah, but Byte and I are already working on that and it should be fully functional by tomorrow morning,” You replied, a bit confused as to what that had to do with your mission.

“Good. Let me know as soon as it’s fixed.” Miguel hastily replied, not even turning to face you until a whole minute passed and he realized you were still standing there. Even then, he just barely turned his head.

“That’s all, (Y/N). Thank you.”

That’s all? What do you mean that’s all?

“Was there something else you wanted to do?” He asked. Shit. You’d said that out loud.

“I…Jessica told me that I’m ready to go on a mission and that today you…”

“I said I would think about it, and I have.”

He fell silent again. No matter how attractive he was, you were starting to truly get pissed at his stupid theatrical antics.

“And?”

“And the answer’s no. You’re not ready yet.”

That felt like all the disappointments in your entire life added up and multiplied by ten. Especially because of how easily he dismissed you despite being aware of how hard you’d worked, how many nights you decided to forgo hours of sleep just to train and polish every movement until it was as close to flawless as you could.

“Not ready yet?” You practically hissed in a voice you almost didn’t recognize. Hell, it was enough for him to put down the pen. “Not ready yet? That kid Pavitr has been here for what? A month? And he’s already going off on missions. Alone, I might add!”

Unsurprisingly, he did not answer.

“And he’s very, very good, I’m not saying he isn’t. But I’m just as good. And more experienced, both at being here and at being a Spider-Person. I have completed every training scenario you’ve thrown my way, worked my ass off to understand every bit of information regarding interdimensional traveling, and studied the protocol to control anomalies, what is it that you still need me to prove?”

He took a deep breath. So deep that his shoulders rose, flexing the muscles of his back in such a way that if you hadn’t been so angry, you would’ve been too distracted to keep arguing. Even with your blood boiling, you couldn’t help but stare and feel your stomach tense at the sight.

“Do you like being part of this team, (Y/N)? Do you like training in our headquarters, having access to all our information, and maintaining contact with the other members of this society?”

“Of course I do,” You replied immediately. Slowly, Miguel turned around to face you completely and walked towards you, descending the two small steps that separated you until he stood towering over you. Even if your knees were about to give in to this unexpected closeness, this wasn’t the time to fold. You held his glare defiantly and folded your arms in an attempt to mentally guard yourself against him.

“Then I suggest you get in line and do as you’re told,” He said in a low voice. But it wasn’t threatening, or condescending. It was an odd, flat tone. Tired, perhaps. Almost as if…as if he was reprimanding you against his will.

He was almost unbearably close. You could feel his breath hitting your face. If right then all logic flew out of the window and you stood on your tiptoes you could…

“I’ll do that when you’ve earned my respect, and I have a policy of reciprocity when it comes to respect, Miguel. I’ve been in line for a year, I’ve listened, learned, and improved so much that if you’re still looking down on me, then it’s your problem, not mine. And no self-righteous, big-headed…”

“Just get out,” He cut you off, once again turning his back to you and walking towards the blueprints again.

“Oh no, I’m not finished…” You insisted, trying to follow him. However, as soon as you gave one step forward he turned around so violently that you stumbled backward and stared at him with something you hadn’t felt towards him up until then: fear.

“Yes, you are,” Was his only reply. As dull as the others.

While you could only see his face for a moment before he walked past you and left the room, something about his expression stuck with you even hours later, when you laid on your bed at night and combed through the scene over and over. You thought he would be fuming, maybe even shocked that you’d dared to talk to him like that. The last thing you expected was for him to look…upset. Hurt, even. The mere thought of you being able to hurt Miguel O’Hara was as ridiculous as imagining a goldfish fighting back against a shark. Still, you realized that even if you thought he was in the wrong, you felt bad about how things went down back there. You would never understand what being the leader of hundreds of super-powered people was like. Commanding each and directing their particular abilities as best as he could all while maintaining a vigilant eye on endless strings of causes and effects because he knew firsthand the consequences of being careless with them.

Even if he had made a mistake with you and of course you still wanted to address it later, right then all you wanted was to apologize.

And so, not even an hour later you were roaming the halls of the HQ, your heart beating furiously as you got closer to his quarters, wondering what you could even begin to say.

When the automatic doors slid open, you stepped inside and turned back to look as the doors closed behind you. Well, no turning back now.

“Miguel?” You called, looking around the large room, pondering whether a first-name basis was okay. After everything that had happened, going back to Mr. O’Hara sounded terribly stupid. Then your eyes landed on the row of screens where he spent most of his time. An extremely ill-timed wave of curiosity filled your chest as you approached them, taking another look at the seemingly empty room before stepping onto the platform. Getting bolder, you reached out your hand and brushed your fingertips across one of the screens. It immediately came to life with a blue glow, startling you and making you curse under your breath. You were about to look for a button to switch it off when a video started playing automatically from where he had left off. He was in it, holding a young girl. Miguel wasn’t just smiling. He was laughing. His laugh was exactly as you’d pictured it. Not particularly loud, but hearty and low. He had the kind of laugh that made you unwittingly smile as well as a newfound sympathy filled your chest as tears filled your eyes when you pictured that being taken from him just like that. How could one have a family, and then one day be completely alone and keep going?

With a renewed disposition to make things better between you, your hand reached out for the switch that would turn the screen off until a third voice piqued your interest. It belonged to whoever was holding the camera.

“Would you please stop hoarding her? I deserve some mother-daughter time too! Here, hold this thing and give her to me,” The voice said between laughs. There was something about that voice that made an extremely cold shiver run down your spine.

“Fine, you’re right. Bueno pues, mijita, ve con mamá, ¿quieres ir con mamá?”

The picture became blurry as the camera switched places with a giggling Gabriella, who could be briefly seen stretching her arms toward the third figure.

“Alright,” Came Miguel’s voice again, “But when I turn the camera towards you I want both of you to blow Daddy a kiss, can you do that for me?”

Without waiting for an answer, he turned the camera around.

And then you found yourself staring into your own eyes. They weren’t quite the same shade as yours, and “your” hair was styled differently. And “you” had freckles. But otherwise, it was like staring into an interdimensional mirror. Then, your voice spoke.

“Okay sweetie, let’s humor him, shall we? Blow Daddy a kiss. And another one from me because now I have to use both arms to hold you, my big girl!”

Miguel laughed again at the way his daughter’s face lit up at being called a “big girl”.

“¿Saben que las amo a las dos, verdad?”

“And Gabriella loves you too. I think you’re…nice enough.”

“(Y/N), I don’t think you marry somebody for ‘nice enough’, mi amor,”

“I love you too. Against my better judgment.”

With one last interrupted laugh, the video ended, and, in a cruel irony, the once again black screen showed your actual reflection.

Except this time, it wasn’t the only one. With a loud gasp, you turned around. After seeing him in that video, it became much more evident that the Miguel in it was nothing but a memory of the past. And in a matter of seconds, everything shifted into place like a gloomy puzzle. His expression was unreadable, though he wasn’t even looking at you. His eyes were fixed on the empty screen.

“I wasn’t supposed to ever see that, was I?” Was the only thing that came to your mind after a lengthy, tense silence.

“What good would it have done?” He replied, almost numbly.

“So that’s why you’ve always…stared?” You kept pushing. Against your better judgment, you thought.

“It was at first,” Came his only response. Like always, it seemed like you would have to tear the answers off him.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You asked, turning your head to look for his eyes. Even then, something warm filled your chest. Something that made your heart beat so quickly you felt as if it would stop at any moment, and it spread all over you no matter how much you tried to fend it off. Hope.

Surprisingly, this time he caved in and looked at you. Still, the answer never came. For the first time in all the time you’d known him, Miguel O’Hara was at a loss for words. And that said more than anything he could’ve come up with.

“And you expect me to believe that, by sheer chance, you happened to catch feelings for somebody who is practically your wife’s interdimensional twin?”

“It sounds so much worse when you say it like that,” Was that a hint of a smile? An attempt at a joke? One year and the only time he’d bothered to be decent to you was when you were talking about how much you looked like her?

With an annoyed look, you moved away from him and started to make your way to the exit.

“Do you think I wanted this?” He spoke rather loudly, his whispers going out of the window as he started to follow you across the room.

Miguel O’Hara following you to keep you from leaving. Just hours before you would’ve died of happiness at the mere thought of this scenario. Right now, your brain was a flurry of thoughts and emotions that you didn’t know how to handle.

“I was doing an amazing job at keeping my distance. Watching you from afar, seeing you laugh, grow, win everybody over with that awfully big heart of yours, and still I reined myself in,” He continued, “Today’s the perfect example. You thought I didn’t respect you, for fuck’s sake! I respect you so much that every single day I have ignored you and pretended you are nothing but another face in the halls. Damn it, (Y/N), I couldn’t even look you in the eye when for months you’ve been all I’ve wanted. All because I didn’t know if I loved you or what was left of her. And I didn’t want you to get involved in shit that’s mine to figure out.”

Hearing him not only withdraw his previous statement of you not being capable of doing things and accepting the problem was his and not yours made you stop in your tracks.

Fine, the sudden (though odd) love declaration had something to do with it too.

“So you don’t think I’m not ready?” You asked, turning around and even taking some steps towards him.

“Are you serious? I’ve watched you closely all these months. You learn in days what others do in weeks. You push yourself way more than so many of our members and yet I’ve never, ever seen you become overconfident. Today you never said you knew everything. You said you knew enough.”

This time, it was you who remained silent. There was something else you wanted him to elaborate on, and from the look in his eyes, you realized he knew damn well what it was.

“You were right. The problem wasn’t yours. It was mine all along. I could manage to push you away and keep my feelings at bay. But knowing that you were eventually going to go out there and take so many risks...worst case scenario, you could get hurt or not come back at all. That was too much for me to handle, s’all.”

“Were you afraid of losing me…?” You started to ask just for him to interrupt you.

“Yes. Very much.” However, you lifted a hand to stop him. You weren’t finished.

“Were you afraid of losing me, or were you afraid of losing her again, Miguel?”

Three seconds later, when no answer came out of his mouth, you were about to turn around once again when he rushed and stood in front of you. For a second, you thought he was going to grab your shoulders to keep you in place. Not wanting to come off as if he was forcing you to stay, his hands just hovered on both sides of your shoulders without touching you.

“Listen, she wasn’t a picky eater like you are. But I swear that woman never drank enough water and every time I see you there’s either a bottle in your hand or laying around. And she was so, so messy. It took us at least ten minutes to find the keys every single time…and Spider-Byte said you sort your tools by size and color. Color. (Y/N), I don’t think even I…”

“Are you getting somewhere with this?”

“You’re not her, (Y/N). You have never been, and you never will, I know that. I want you to know that I wouldn’t want you to be any other way. I love you.”

After that, he moved out of the way and folded his arms.

“If you want to go back to your dimension and stay there for a while…or for good, I don’t know, I completely…”

“I love you too, you know?” You cut him off, pressing your lips together after blurting out the three words that’d been haunting you for the past months. Words that up until now you were sure would never leave your chest. When you turned to look at him, you saw in his eyes what minutes ago had filled yours. Hope.

God, his face was so hauntingly beautiful when his features softened.

“What do you want from me?” You finally asked him, your voice shaky from the effect you knew his answer would have regardless of what it was.

Miguel moved closer to you almost hesitantly, his eyes never leaving yours. When he was close enough, he reached out with both his hands and slid them up the back of your neck, his thumbs tucked in front of your ears as his warm palms engulfed the back of your head so he could hold you while he brought his face down to press his forehead against yours.

“Mi amor, I’d give you all I am and be happy with whatever you’re willing to give me for now,”

You knew it would take some time for you to get used to hearing him say things like that without wondering if you were the only one in his mind when he did. It would be a while until you felt completely certain that you were made of flesh and bone and not just a ghost in his eyes, but it would happen. You saw his eyes as he drew his face closer to yours and when your lips touched, you knew that it would definitely happen sooner or later. Until then, you thought as you stood on your tiptoes when he almost desperately pressed his lips onto yours, he was very much worth the wait.

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel o'hara fic #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x female reader #spiderman across the spiderverse #marvel imagine #marvel fanfiction #spiderman 2099 #spiderman atsv #across the spiderverse #atsv

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addisonnie · 1 year

Text

Baptize in Your Thighs

summary: Ellie doesn’t go to church. But when she does, it’s for the preacher’s daughter.

warnings: swearing, SMUT, fingering, oral, daddy kink (SORRY,) lowkey mean!ellie, dom/sub, religious mentions, talks of god, slight mentions of homophobia but hardly, let me know if I missed anything ALSO not proofread per usual sorry can’t be bothered!

an: surprise you dirty little dogs. im also a dirty little dog because what the FUCK is this. what did i just do? anyways time to do my homework now! enjoy you filthy little sluts

—————

Ellie doesn’t particularly believe in God. She doesn’t read the Bible, she doesn’t pray, and she certainly doesn’t go to church.

Yet, here she is.

The stained glass windows cast a rainbow haze over her skin, the freckles dotting her face twinkle under the glow. People slowly begin to fill in the pews surrounding her and she plays with the mini Bible placed in the wooden pocket of the seat in front of her. She looks out of place, feels out of place. People like her are usually struck by lightning the second they walk through those goddamn wooden doors— probably not the best time to use the Lord’s name in vain.

She’s gay, she’s grumpy, she’s occasionally mean. So, why is she here?

You. The preacher’s sweeter-than-a-peach daughter. Your smile is contagious, your laugh is precious, and Jesus Christ—again, not the best time— you have got to be one of the most alluring girls Ellie has ever seen. A floral dress hugs your waist beautifully and stops right above the middle of your supple thighs, tan pantyhose run up your legs and Ellie coughs into her hand when she accidentally makes eye contact with you.

You smile, of course you do. It’s nothing more than a formality your family forced upon you to keep raking in more church-goers—because who wants to attend a church run by an asshole family. Ellie smiles back before looking at her hands splayed across her thighs. She notices the click-clack of your kitten heels as you approach her pew, refusing to look up, she plays with the rip in her jeans.

“Is someone sitting here? With you.” Your saccharine voice floats through Ellie’s ears and wraps around her eardrum like a vice.

“No, go ahead.” She nods toward the open space next to her and you smile before sitting down and sliding closer to her. Your small hands smooth over your dress before you turn to face her, “I haven’t seen you here before. Are you a new member?”

Ellie has to hold back an eye roll—‘member?’ What is this? A cult?

“Just decided to finally come today. I usually don’t like getting up early on my days off.” You laugh and smile brightly at her, “I’m the same way. My daddy has to practically kick my door down to get me awake Sunday mornings.”

You’ve got a sweet little southern accent and Ellie feels herself growing aroused at the innocent aura weaved in every word you speak. She wonders if you’ve ever been aroused like this before.

Ellie notices you’re about to speak again before your father walks up onto the stage and begins his sermon. Immediately, your attention is brought to him and she sighs at the loss. The pastor is droning on about sinners and that those who are lost in the darkness should look for the light, Christ.

She doesn’t care. Ellie is much more focused on the fact that your dress has ridden much farther up your thighs due to the fact that you’ve crossed your legs. Her eyes trail up and down your pantyhose-covered legs and she shivers, drawing your attention back to her.

“Are you alright?”

Ellie’s eyes dart to your face, “just feeling overwhelmed, is all.”

You nod before pursing your lips and squinting, Ellie panics for a moment, thinking you’ve seen straight through her.

“Come with me.” You stand up in the pew and reach your hand out for Ellie to grab, quickly dragging her through the row and to the front doors of the church.

Your mother stands there, hands on her hips.

“Now, just where do you think you’re going? Your father is not going to be pleased that you’re skipping his sermon.” A whine escapes your lips and you tug on Ellie’s hand.

“Mama, this is Ellie. She’s feeling a little overwhelmed. I think the Holy Ghost is reaching out to her! I’m gonna take her to the house and let her have one of our spare bibles. You’re the one always saying we should help those that are lost!”

Your mother curtly nods at you before turning to face Ellie, “well, Miss. Ellie. You’re in good hands! I hope my daughter helps you work through your feelings. It’ll only lead to a healthier relationship with Christ.”

Ellie smiles and thanks her, in her head she’s rolling her eyes and telling your mom to fuck off. If anything, you’re the one in good hands. Ellie wants nothing more than to coax another whine from your plump, glossy lips.

Your hand is grasped in Ellie’s while you drag her across the dirt-filled church parking lot and into an old Victorian style home about a yard away from the side of the church. A couple cats sunbathe on the front porch and you happily greet them as you drag Ellie up the stairs and into your house.

It smells really nice. It’s creepy as fuck, though. The only thing she can really focus on are the abundance of crosses littering the walls. Who needs that many crosses? Do you beat intruders with them? Do they keep the demons away? Ellie shudders when she realizes that she’s probably the very thing they want casted out of her house.

“We can head up to my room, I’ve got a couple bibles there. You can have one, if you’d like!” There’s that sweet little voice again.

You pull her up the stairs and quickly lead her to your room. It’s exactly what Ellie expected. Pink toile wallpaper, a precious white bed frame, and a fluffy white comforter topped with way too many decorative pillows. A Bible lay open atop your bed, colorful markings and annotations scatter across the pages.

“Sorry! S’a bit of a mess, I don’t usually have people in my room. Mama and daddy don’t like it.”

Your mom and dad won’t like what Ellie is thinking about doing, either.

The two of you sit criss-cross on the bed and your nimble fingers quickly reach out to grasp at your Bible, “so, today my daddy’s sermon was meant to be about temptation. We can start there.”

How ironic. Temptation.

“How do you keep from giving into it? Temptation, that is?” Ellie leans in to be closer to your body, you look at her with wide eyes.

“I just—I usually just pray.”

Ellie smirks, “yeah? Does that make it go away?”

You push a stray strand of hair behind your ear and frown slightly, confused.

“Make what go away?”

God, you look so innocent like this. Big doe eyes staring up into Ellie’s, your legs crossed out in front of you. It’s sinful.

“Those butterflies you get in your tummy. The ones that make you feel funny.” She’s trying to dance around the topic of general horniness rather than just straight up asking if you touch yourself. Speaking to you about this is difficult, you’re a butterfly on a stray flower, and if Ellie jumps in too quickly, she’ll startle you and run you off.

“I—I don’t know what you mean.” You’re wiggling under her intense stare and a soft blush begins to bloom over the apples of your cheeks.

“Sweetheart, I think you do. Tell me what you do when you get that feeling.” Ellie leans in much closer to you, her minty breath fans over your face and she doesn’t miss the part when you clench your soft thighs together.

“Hebrews 13:4.” Ellie scoffs and swats at your knee, “that’s not what I’m asking you.”

You squeeze your eyes shut and huff out a breath, “Ellie. I’m trying to help you here. You wanna know what I do? I read the Bible and pray that God will rid me of those sinful feelings.”

And then Ellie is leaning closer, both her hands resting on your thighs, “are you going to pray right now? Ask God to get rid of that wet feeling in your panties? Ask him to smite me where I stand, hm?”

A bright red blush spans across your cheeks and you can’t bear to look at Ellie. She tuts, “look at me, angel.”

It’s ironic that she’s calling you angel when you feel like the complete opposite. The feeling of your cotton panties sliding against your sticky folds is enough to make you feel like the spawn of Satan himself. And to feel this way about a woman? You don’t even want to think about the repercussions of that.

“I touch myself. At night—after they’re asleep.” Ellie grins and squeezes your flesh between her fingers, “you’re a bad girl. What else do you do?”

A whine escapes your lips while you shove at Ellie’s calloused hands, “I can’t.”

Her face drops and she moves a hand up to squeeze your jaw in between her fingers, “you can. Tell me—better yet, why don’t you show me, angel?”

A gasp slides out of your mouth and your eyebrows shoot to your hairline, “I—what! No! Ellie, I can’t do that. I won’t.”

Her unoccupied hand slowly trails toward the hem of your dress, “I thought you were supposed to be a good girl? Sweet little pastor’s daughter can’t follow simple instructions?”

You whimper, “M’a good girl.”

“Then act like one.”

Her hand releases your jaw and she smirks when she watches you inch backward on your bed until you’re resting against the headboard. Your legs are crossed in front of you and Ellie gives you a moment to uncross them before she grabs your ankles to spread your legs.

“Go on, then.”

Your fingers slowly raise the hem of your dress until it pools around your tummy and Ellie sucks in a breath when she sees your flowery pink panties underneath your pantyhose. One hand travels underneath the elastic of your underwear and a soft whimper leaves your parted lips when the pad of your fingertip ghosts over your clit.

Ellie can’t see your pussy through your undergarments but she can clearly make out the little wet spot growing between your legs. She watches while your finger swirls in a circular motion under your panties and feels her own growing damper when you let out a soft moan.

“More, sweet girl. I know you can.” Ellie is leaning back on her hands while she watches your hand speed up, you choke out a pathetic whine while looking at her, “can’t, Ellie!”

A deep frown settles across Ellie’s face after your outward denial, “fucking pathetic. Do I have to do it for you? Hm? Is that what you want?”

Your hand slides out from under your panties and you shimmy down on the bed and spread your legs to be bent on either side of her body.

“Does your daddy know how much of a filthy little slut you are?” She’s crawling up the bed until she’s sitting on her knees in front of you, one arm on either side of your head. You whimper and jut your hips out toward her.

A simple phrase passes through her lips, one that has you sucking in a breath and squeezing your eyes shut, “beg.”

“Please.” It’s a pathetic attempt at begging, but you were raised to always be polite, at least you said please.

She leans forward on her hands and quickly moves one of her legs forward to shove straight into your core, grinding roughly onto your puffy clit.

You let out a soft moan and clutch onto her bicep, “I said fucking beg. I wanna hear you pray for me like the good little church girl you are.”

She surges forward and immediately presses her lips onto yours in a messy kiss. Her lips are soft yet chapped, a clear juxtaposition to the supple, cherry-flavored skin of your pouty lips. Ellie doesn’t even give you a chance to deny her tongue before she’s prying your mouth open with her lips, immediately sliding the wet muscle into your awaiting mouth. The harshness of her jeans continually ruts into your clit and she doesn’t plan on giving you any more until she hears that prayer fall from your lips. Fingers are digging into her biceps and she has half a mind to complain when you finally pull back, “please touch me. Please, please. I’ll be a good girl—fuck. Please.”

Hearing the naughty word slip from your sweet lips has Ellie chuckling, “atta girl.”

She immediately sits back on her knees before running her hands up and down your spread thighs, the wet spot on your panties only growing more prominent. Her fingers reach your core and you whimper for the thousandth time, she bunches the material of your pantyhose and rips the fabric apart at the seam, leaving an open hole directly to your underwear.

“Ellie!” She grunts and gives you a sour look before attaching her lips to yours again. Sloppy, wet sounds fill your ears while Ellie kisses you, spit is trailing down your chin and onto the valley of your breasts as Ellie fumbles with the soft material of your panties.

Sliding them to the side, she runs the pad of her pointer finger along your cunt, eliciting a gasp from you. Her finger dances over your folds and circles around your clit a few times before she trails back down to your hole, slowly pressing a finger inside.

“Oh—fuck! Ellie, please.”

She moves to kiss down the column of your throat while she slowly pulls her finger out, pushing it back in again.

“Better than your tiny fingers, hm, baby?” You nod and move a hand down to tug at her wrist, “more.”

Ellie moves her head away from your neck and scowls, “where have your manners gone?”

Tears are beginning to fill your doe eyes and for a minute Ellie feels bad for having such an attitude with you, but not bad enough to stop.

“Please. I want more of you.” That’s enough for her it seems, she slides her second finger in knuckle deep moans at the feeling of you digging your nails into her toned arms.

Her fingers quickly move in and out of your pussy, scissoring and twisting inside of you. You’re moaning, but quietly; Ellie doesn’t like that.

“Let me fucking hear you, sweet girl. Don’t be shy.” She speeds up the movement of her fingers and soon slides in a third finger, twisting her wrist around to hit you at a different angle. Her other arm moves to lift your leg onto her shoulder and the new angle has you releasing a borderline pornographic moan. It’s loud, and for a second you’re worried the church across the driveway heard it.

Her thumb repositions to quickly swipe over and circle at your clit. Your toes curl over Ellie’s shoulder and she listens to you squeak and cry out from under her. Teeth sink into your calf resting upon her shoulder and another loud moan slides from your parted lips when you feel Ellie harshly bite down on the skin and slide her tongue across the indention.

She feels you clenching religiously around her fingers and watches in awe as your wetness seeps into the palm of her hand and puddles on your pristine comforter.

“Close, baby?”

You whine in response and Ellie quickly halts her motions and slides her fingers out, “too bad.”

Your soft eyes full with tears and you slam your head backwards onto the pillow behind you, “fuck! Just—please, Ellie! Please please please—“

A harsh slap onto your pussy sends your hips jolting upward and your head flying forward. You whimper from the pain “m’sorry.”

“Rule number one. You only cum when I say you can. Got it, slut?” She delivers another harsh slap onto your clit and you arch your back in an attempt to be closer to her, “yes.”

She tuts, “yes, what?”

A confused look crosses your sweet face and you whine, shuffling your hips downward in hopes of some form of contact, “yes, Ellie?”

Another slap to your cunt, “ah—fuck! Yes! Yes, daddy!”

She smirks before lifting your other leg to rest on her shoulder, moving down on the bed until her face is settled in between your thighs.

“What are you doing?” You sound genuinely confused, which only confuses Ellie. Certainly you know what head is, right?

“M’gonna eat this pretty little pussy, baby. You want that?” She can practically hear you gulp. Your head nods and both of your hands slide to rest on top of her head.

Ellie leans in to pull your panties further to the side, pressing a chaste kiss right onto your clit, “oh my—“ you cut yourself off before you can say His name.

She smirks, “say it.”

And then she’s licking a long stripe up the expanse of your cunt, only stopping to suckle at your clit. Her tongue darts around in several circles before she finally fully takes your clit into her mouth and sucks harshly, “oh my God!”

She smirks into your pussy before moving her hand back up to slide knuckle-deep into your cunt again. Her long fingers piston in and out of your slick core while she hums and sucks on your clit. Fingers are digging into her scalp and yanking at her hair, your heels are digging into her back, and ear-shattering moans are diving out of your mouth.

Ellie does believe in God, because this, this is heaven.

She feels you constricting so hard around her fingers that it’s starting to get difficult to continually fuck in and out of you, her bicep is burning from the amount of effort she’s putting into getting you there.

“Daddy—fuck, please. M’so close. Please please please.” You’re babbling at this point, and Ellie is pretty sure you’ve literally never came before because she didn’t even edge you for that long and you’ve already got tears streaming down your round cheeks and onto your neck.

She moans onto your clit before slightly pulling away, “good girl, you can come.”

That’s all it takes, the vibration of Ellie’s words send shockwaves through your clit and immediately you’re seeing stars, clenching down onto Ellie’s fingers like a vice. She fucks you through it, she doesn’t stop, either.

Her mouth continues to suck on your clit long after you’ve come, and her fingers are still buried to the hilt inside of you.

“Oh! Please—please, can’t do more.”

Her teeth graze over your puffy clit, “yes you fucking can, roll over.”

She pulls away just long enough for you to roll over onto your tummy, “face down. Gonna have you on your knees praying for me to stop.”

Your face is mashed into the pillows and Ellie uses her knee to shove your legs further apart, her large hands immediately move to spread your pussy apart and she licks a long stripe from your clit to your tighter hole.

“Fucking shit! Fuck fuck fuck!” The filthy words pass through your lips like nothing, and Ellie almost laughs at the idea of the sweetest girl in the world having such a foul mouth. She moves back down to stuff her tongue into your pussy, sliding the wet muscle in and out, licking and sucking on your folds like a woman starved.

You’re babbling and sobbing into your pillowcase, begging for literally anything. Ellie keeps her mouth connected to your pussy, but moves both of her hands to grip the globes of your ass and quickly spreads them. One hand stays planted on your ass, the other trails upward until her thumb rests over your tight hole, pressing in slightly before circling around it. She uses her previous spit as lube before slowly sliding her thumb into your ass, leaving it there while she licks on your cunt.

A sob erupts from your lips and immediately you’re rocking back and forth on her face, “good fucking girl. Use me, baby.”

Her thumb slides farther into your ass and before you know it, she’s sliding her other hand to meet it. She presses in her second thumb and you squeal, clenching around her fingers.

With one last lick to your clit, your orgasm hits like a truck. Your juices leak down Ellie’s chin and spurt out onto her cheeks, effectively covering her face with you. It’s deliciously sweet and Ellie happily laps up everything that drips from your pussy lips, slurping and gurgling like a feral animal.

She pulls away from your cunt and turns her face to the side, rubbing your juices onto her clothed shoulder. Her thumbs stay planted in your ass and she lightly pulls her thumbs apart, spreading you open.

“Fuck—fuck. No more. No!”

Ellie chuckles and decides to remove her fingers. She watches your knees buckle and you drop fully onto your bed, shaking and whimpering, “oh my God. Oh my God.”

You keep repeating it. Over and over.

“It’s actually Ellie. But, I told you I’d have you praying for me instead.”

You grunt into the pillow case and Ellie laughs, moving to rub her hand soothingly up and down the expanse of your back. She presses a kiss between your shoulder blades and helps you slide your shredded pantyhose down your legs along with your underwear.

Your dress is still bunched up around your chest and Ellie rugs the fabric down to cover your ass after pressing a kiss to the plump skin.

Just as she slides your dress fully back down, a knock sounds at your bedroom door, “honey? It’s dad. The sermon is over and I’m heading back to the church for the potluck. Are you coming?”

Ellie squeezes the flesh of your thighs in warning, “no, daddy. I’m staying here, don’t feel—ah, don’t feel good.”

Her fingers drift over your puffy lips while she listens to you answer your father outside the door, “okay, honey.”

His footsteps clank down the stairs and Ellie waits to hear the front door slam before she whispers in your ear, “I don’t think I’m done with my sermon yet.”

#filth #sorry I had to do it to em #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams #tlou #ellie tlou #ellie williams x you #ellie williams x y/n #ellie x reader #ellie williams x female reader #ellie williams smut

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blushweddinggowns · 1 year

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Part 2

Robin Buckley was unfortunately well-aware of Steve Harrington, long before they started working together. He had been the worst kind of popular in high school, the completely effortless kind. And Robin was not looking forward to working with him.

Sure, he had been better than the other jock dickheads Robin was forced to share space with, but that probably had more to do with his weird Eddie Munson friendship than anything else. Being friends with the town freak kind of forced you to be more accepting. Or in Steve’s case, force you to punch anyone who insulted him in the face.

And while that was all nice and chivlirous or whatever it didn’t stop the fact that Steve Harringinton was a complete ass who slept with dozens of girls and threw them away immmeidtly after. There was no way that a guy like that wasn’t a dick.

And after their first shift working together, Robin was convinced that she had been absolutely right. He was a total slouch at work, spending most of his time failing at flirting with girls or yapping to his friends on the phone in the back. He was a complete diva about his hair, and their manager had given him three reprimands in the span of four hours for not wearing the dumb hat. And he was always trying to get out of work early.

After their first week together Robin was ready to strangle him. The only thing she’d give him is that he accepted being assigned indefinite bathroom cleaning duty with grace, otherwise she probably would have killed him and hid the body in the freezer by now.

Though he was really trying to expedite the process over here.

It was another annoying, Harrington filled day, only for him to once again try and leave early.

But before he could get to the door, Robin was dragging him back behind the counter, hissing, “Where the hell do you think you’re going? We have inventory tonight.”

She had expected him to whine in response or maybe say something dickish that she could kick him in the shin for, but he just looked horrified.

“Tonight? B-But it won’t take that long right? Like just a few minutes?”

“Try a few hours. They’re making us count the spoons man. You’re not going anywhere anytime soon.”

His eyes got wider with each word, and for a split second Robin was actually worried that he was about to have a panic attack. That was until he opened his mouth again, “I-okay. Look dude, I really can’t do this tonight. I have a thing that I need to go to. But I can make it up to you! Or I can come in tomorrow morning-”

“The manager is going to look at it tomorrow morning,” Robin interrupted, arms crossed and brow twitching, “What is so damn important that it can’t wait till tomorrowow?”

“Does that matter?” Steve asked, oddly defensive for someone who was literally begging, “I just need to leave. But I can make it up to you! I’ll even pay you. You can have all the tips for the week and if that’s not enough then I’ll do the trash for three-no four days. I’ll do anything. Please?”

He actually looked like he was on the edge of tears and Robin had to begrudgingly admit that the puppy eyes were working on her. Christ, she was too good of a person.

She sighed, “Trash duty for two weeks, and for the week I get the tips I expect you to be extra charming. We clear?”

“Yes! Totally fair!” Steve was already speed walking backwards to the door, and those misty eyes had suddenly completely disappeared. Robin was started to think that she just got played and big time, “Best co-worker ever! Really couldn’t ask for better-”

“Just fucking go.” Robin said as she shooed him off, near snorting when Steve actually started running out of the mall.

She looked back behind the counter, groaning when she realized that his trash promise apparently started tomorrow. Fucking dick. She’d take out the trash, do inventroy alone, and then curse the Harrington name.

She started to lug the disgusting trash bags full of soupy ice cream through the backdoor, shivering a little in the cold. The dumpster was right next to the almost empty parking lot, everyone gone except one long running van.

Robin stopped, realziing that two people were making out infront of it, and one of them just so happened to still be wearing his cutsy uniform while he shoved his tongue down the stranger’s throat. Robin stared at them, barely concealed by the dumpster as her blood boiled.

Steve ditched her to make-out with some chick in the parking lot? Oh hell no. He was not getting away with this. She was just about to come out of her hiding spot to start tearing into him when she heard Steve giggle. Honest to god giggle.

He was standing in front of the girl, obscuring her face while he played with a lock of her hair, “Aw, don’t pout. I didn’t make the schedule. Besides, I already said I’d make it up to you in any way you want.”

Robin rolled her eyes, wondering if she should include warning the poor girl that whatever two week anniversary they were celebrating would definitely be their last when she called him out.

“I just didn’t expect to spend most of our four year anniversary eating cake in bed alone,” The stranger answered, their voice instantly recongnizble, “I was supposed to be eating you.”

That wasn’t a chick, that was Eddie.

Robin gasped, a hand going over her mouth. She had heard that voice many times, usually yelling about comforimity while standing on a lunch table. But that didn’t make sense! It couldn’t be-

But then Eddie was spinning them around, crowding Steve against the hood of his car, his signature DIO vest on full display while he ploundered Steve’s mouth, Steve laughing into it all the while.

Robin felt like her brain was short-circuiting as she watched them. She was actually witnessing Steve Harrington happily shoving his tongue down Eddie Munson’s throat.

Steve pulled away first, holding Eddie back with a hand to his chest, still giggling, “God, that was so lame. Even for you.”

“You love it.”

“I do,” Steve easily agreed, “And I’ll love it even more when we’re home and in bed. Then we can really start celebrating.”

That was more than enough for Eddie. He dragged Steve off of the hood before opening the passenger side door for him, stealing one more kiss before running over to the driver’s side.

Robin watched as they settled into the van, hands immediately clasped back together over the centerconsole. But it didn’t stop there. No, Steve was licking his lips and looking down muttering something to Eddie that she couldn’t hear. But she could guess, especially when his head suddenly dissapeared right before they drove off.

Robin stayed hidden behind the dumpster, still trying to comprehend what she’d just seen. She just watched King Steve make out with the resident freak, and maybe start the beginnings of road head, all while giggling and laughing about their fucking anniversy.

What. The. Fuck.

From an unpublished chapter of this fic

#secret relationship steddie #steddie #steddie ficlet #steddie fic #eddie munson #robin buckley #steve harrington #the universe trapped in your skin #this is straight from my childhood au fic for 85 #might do a part 2 here though #because the fic is NOWHERE near this part but it's technically written #stranger things

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from-memphis-with-love · 1 month

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Magic Man

Summary: Elvis breaks in a virgin. Word count: ~2,200 words of pure, unadulterated smut inspired by this post. This is purely a work of fiction, and from what I have read of how Elvis actually treated his lovers in real life, is probably a lot less tender and loving than the actual Elvis would have been. But it's make believe and fun, so enjoy it! Warnings: 20 year age gap, dubious consent at some points, full intercourse, course language. Somewhat callous treatment of Elvis' taste for younger women.

His bedroom is a gilded cage, dripping with excess and the stench of hedonism. Elvis's entourage has left them alone, finally, after weeks of teasing glances and knowing winks. Tonight, it’s just him and his prey—sweet little Molly van Patton. All night, she’s tried to resist, but his primal aura is too strong to deny. He’s charming. Dangerous. A seasoned, world-famous rock star. And she's just a 19-year-old innocent, trembling on the edge of womanhood. Just like he likes ‘em.

Their meeting felt like some sort of strange, cosmic joke. She wasn’t a fan, hadn’t even intended to go see his show. But her best friend convinced her, one thing led to another, and now here she is, somehow lying in his colossal bed like a tiny helpless creature, her presence filling him with a burning desire to crush and destroy.

Now, he traces his lips down her neck, pausing to nuzzle at the hollow of her collarbone. Sweetly at first, then more insistently as she drags long, jagged breaths. Molly can’t help but gasp under the full weight of him, her body opening up in ways she’s never experienced before. It’s heady and intoxicating and dangerous and delicious and—

Oh. Oh.

Each touch sets off an electric current, making her arch closer. She runs her fingers through the thick hair on his chest, feeling the cool metal of his gold lion's head medallion pressed against her own breasts. But as he reaches for her waistband, she hesitates.

“Stop,” Molly trembles. Heat flushes her cheeks. "I’m not… I don’t…"

Elvis nuzzles her neck. His hand is dangerously close to unzipping her skirt. He’s in a taking mood tonight.

“Please,” she pleads. “Won’t they know what we’re doing in here?”

Elvis chuckles, a low, deep rumbling sound that vibrates through her very bones. “Baby, they don’t care. They’re probably already placing bets on how long you’ll last.”

Molly's heart plummets into her stomach. Of course they knew. All those knowing glances and hushed whispers, they’d known all along. Her face flushes and it's all she can do to grab her things and run.

But Elvis doesn't give her time to process this newfound knowledge. His insistent lips find her earlobe, nibbling it lightly as he whispers lewd suggestions she can't comprehend but her body understands. Against her better judgment, heat pools between her legs, and she bites back a moan of desire.

"Just one more," Elvis purrs, his voice thick with want, sending shivers down Molly's spine. "One more’n I'll stop.”

But one more turns into two, and then three, and before she knows it, she’s powerless under him. She feebly attempts to push him away, but his strong arms grasp her tighter. His grip is firm but not quite enough to leave bruises. Not yet at least. But she knows it’s coming. Braces for it. His lips find her neck again.

The heat between her thighs grows unbearable, and she clenches them together, as if that could stop the freight train that is Elvis Presley. As if it could cool the fire raging through her veins. She’s never felt so alive, so free, so needed and… so scared, as she does tonight in his arms. But as he inches lower, kiss by agonizing kiss awakening something primal inside her, Molly panics.

This is really happening.

She’s about to give herself to a man she barely knows, a man nearly twenty years her senior. One who could crush her like a fly if he wanted to. Her heart kicks into overdrive, adrenaline coursing as she manages to shove him off.

“No!” she cries out, the word catching in her throat. Molly’s outburst gives Elvis pause. Hurt and confusion flash across his face as he pulls back, propping himself up on one elbow.

“What is it?” his voice is gruff but not unkind.

Molly turns her face away, cheeks flaming. How can she tell him? That despite her adventurous friend and all the talk, she's never actually… that he would be her first.

Elvis regards her steadily. Impossibly long black lashes curtain the genuine concern in his eyes. Molly's pulse throbs in her ears.

"Please don't make me say it," she whispers finally. Molly squeezes her eyes shut, willing the tears not to fall. But a single drop escapes, trailing down her cheek.

"I'm sorry," she whispers. "It's just… I've never…"

Understanding dawns on Elvis' face. He brushes the tear from her face with surprising tenderness.

"Never been with a man before?" he asks gently.

Molly shakes her head, a furious blush creeping up her neck. She expects anger, derision, rejection. For him to throw her out and call for the next girl.

But instead, Elvis tips her chin up to look at him. "Oh honey," he murmurs. "Why didn't you tell me?"

Molly's breath catches in her throat as Elvis regards her with unexpected tenderness. His hands, which moments before seemed so insistent, now caress her face and arms with featherlight touches.

"I was afraid you wouldn't want me anymore," she confesses, her voice barely above a whisper.

Elvis shakes his head, a sad smile on his lips. "Oh darlin', that don't matter one bit to me. I want you, Molly girl. I want to make you feel real good."

He drags his thumb over her bottom lip and Molly shivers. She knows she should leave, should find Doreen and book it out of there before she does something reckless. But the way Elvis is looking at her, like she's the only woman in the world… it makes her feel powerful. Desired. Dangerous.

She... likes it?

"Just relax and lemme take care of you," Elvis murmurs, his breath hot against her ear. With that, the last of her resolve melts.

His hands, knowing and sure, explore her curves, leaving trails of fire in their wake. She moans, melting into him, her body betraying her. She's scared, yes, but she's also aching for more. He senses her hesitation, easing her back even further, parting her thighs with a tenderness belied by the impressive size of his hands. His eyes are hungry, admiring the perfect, trembling creature before him.

"You're so beautiful," he breathes, running a calloused finger along her jawline. His words were like sweet poison, both thrilling and terrifying. "Shh, baby," he coos, "I gotcha."

He kisses her, his lips firm yet gentle, as if he can taste her innocence. Her first kiss, her first everything, all with him. She was born for him.

His lips trail down her breasts, leaving a path of fire in their wake. Molly arches into the sensation, the soft scratch of his stubble against her skin. His hand slides down to her stomach, fingertips tracing the sensitive flesh just below her belly button.

"Do you want me to stop?" he asks hoarsely. She shakes her head, unable to form words. "Say it, Molly girl." He presses a kiss to her hip bone, nipping lightly at it.

"No," she gasps. "Don't stop."

He smiles against her skin. "Good girl," he purrs before lowering his mouth to where she's aching for him most.

His tongue flicks forward, teasing her entrance and Molly cries out, her fingers curling into the silk sheets. She looks down at him—somewhere down there—through one open eye.

"Is that what... are you supposed to be—"

Before she can finish her sentence, his hands grip her thighs. Fear and desire battle within her, but desire wins out as curious pecks and licks turn into long, languid strokes. Bracing himself, Elvis feasts on her, like she's the most delicious thing he's ever tasted. She finally opens her eyes and there he is in all his glory: lapping at her, coaxing the desire out of her body and onto his waiting tongue. Wave after wave of pleasure courses through her. "Oh God," she whuffs out, her head thrown back in ecstasy.

Somewhere in the back of her mind, a voice wonders what everyone else must be thinking. But then Elvis's tongue buries itself deep within again, soft and wet, and all thoughts vanish into thin air. His hands grip the soft flesh of her hips, guiding her closer to him as he laps at her vulnerable center. She's never felt anything like this before, the pleasure so unbearable it hurts.

"That's it, baby," he growls into her glistening pussy, "ride it out."

And she does. His tongue flicks and swirls, plunging inside her, mimicking what she imagines is his impressive length.

By now, the whole house must hear her moans, but she doesn’t care. She’s coming undone whether she wants to or not, and she’s never felt more alive.

“Oh, Elvis,” she moans, her voice high and desperate, “Oh, I—”

Molly van Patton shudders and bucks against him, her first ever orgasm coursing through her body like wildfire. He doesn't stop though, not until she's sobbing and spent, her juices coating his face. He looks up at her through hooded lids, a satisfied smirk on his full lips.

“I ain’t done with you yet.”

He moves up her body, his manhood hard and throbbing against her thigh. Her entrance flutters in anticipation, and Elvis smiles at the sight. He positions himself there, large and intimidating.

“Relax, li’l girl,” he whispers in her ear. “I’ll be real gentle.” Molly looks up at him, eyes wide, pleading.

“You sure you want this?”

She nods dutifully.

“Say it f’me, now.”

“I want you inside me.”

That’s all he needs. Before she can take it back, he slides in an inch, and then another. He’s so big, stretching her so wide she’s certain she’ll split in half. Certain he'll pierce her and she'll never be the same again. Tears leak from her eyes, mixing with the mascara from earlier.

“Shh,” he soothes, “I got you.” His accent is thicker than usual, sweet like molasses. Slowly, bit by excruciating bit, Elvis works himself inside her tight heat. Molly bites her lip to stifle a moan, but it escapes anyway.

At that, Elvis groans, and then he’s entering her more and more until he bottoms out. He's still for a moment, ensuring she can truly take in all of his length. “Tell me how it feels,” he grunts, as he slowly picks up speed.

“It hurts,” she pants out. But it’s a delectable sort of hurt. He’s filling her up in ways she never thought possible. Each thrust has her teeth bitting his shoulder tighter.

“I know, baby,” he coos into her ear, “but it gets better, I promise.”

And somehow, it does. The pain eases and is replaced with a delicious ache that has her hips rocking towards his.. Heat pools in her belly as he claims her with every thrust, like she was made for him and only him.

“You’re so tight,” he moans. “Made for me.”

It’s a mantra, a vow, as a he pistons in and out, breaking her in with every stroke. Her climax from before was nothing compared to this. She’s soon whimpering, clawing at his back, an evil sob stuck in her throat.

"That's it, baby," he pants, "give it all to me."

Elvis pulls out swiftly, leaving Molly empty and aching. In one smooth motion, he flips her over onto her stomach.

"On your knees," he commands.

Molly whimpers but obeys, presenting herself to him on all fours. Elvis groans at the sight, gripping her hips tightly.

He enters her from behind in one powerful thrust. Molly cries out, the new angle allowing him to penetrate her even deeper. Elvis sets a ruthless pace, pounding into her relentlessly.

The sound of slapping flesh fills the air as he claims her, his fingers digging into her hips hard enough to leave bruises. He hits a spot deep inside that has Molly seeing stars. She pushes her hips back to meet his brutal thrusts, unable to get enough.

"That's right, take it," Elvis growls. His breathing is labored in her ear, hot and ragged. Sweat beads on his brow, dripping onto her shoulder blades, but he doesn’t relent. “You’re taking me so good. You love it, don’t you?”

She does. Oh, God, does she ever. Fuck it. If this was wrong, she didn’t want to be right.

He keeps pounding into her, and it's dizzying and intoxicating all at once. The room spins as she clings to the headboard for dear life, his name a curse on her lips, a talisman against the building pleasure-pain coiling in her core. His pace quickens, hot breath on her neck, and his thick chest hair tickling her back.

“El… vis…” she mewls. “Right there!”

He obliges, his expert hands massaging her swollen clit as he pounds into her from behind.

“Yeah, just like that,” he rasps as Molly bucks against him, working the length of his cock with her slick and pushing her hips back to meet his brutal thrusts, unable to get enough. It shocks him how quickly she took to his cock. Elvis’ fingers dig almost painfully into her hips, urging her on. “That’s right, take what you need.”

"Elvis, I..."

The pressure builds, coiling in her belly like a spring. “That’s my girl, let it go,” he growls in her ear, and that’s all it takes.

Her body explodes into a million stars, tightening around him as she screams her release. Just like that, it hits her all at once—from heaven and hell itself, crashing over her like a tidal wave and even more powerful than the first. Colors dance behind her eyelids.

Elvis’ nails dig into her back, and she can feel the delicious sting as they break the skin. “Unnngh,” he grunts, “I’m fuckin’ close.” The filthy words spur her on, and she clenches around him, the fluttering of her walls easing up, and suddenly she’s slowly floating back to earth and back to life and back to his gigantic bed in his gigantic mansion in Memphis, Tennessee. She can’t breathe, can’t think, can’t do anything but feel.

He growls and buries himself even deeper, his thrusts erratic and desperate now. Harder and harder until he, too, splinters apart, shattering inside her like stained glass. He grunts, his release warm and sticky deep inside her.

Later, Elvis cocoons Molly in his strong arms and starts to rock her gently. As she drifts off to sleep, she knows there's no going back.

She's his now, body and soul. That’s the price she paid for giving in to her darkest desire.

#elvis presley #elvis #elvis fanfic #elvis presley fanfiction #elvis fanfiction #elvis fans #elvis presley fanfic #elvis presley fic #elvis x oc #elvis fic #elvis smut #elvis presley smut #big daddy elvis

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narcissarina · 2 months

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Darkened Desires

Prologue and Chapter 1: The sun || Chapter 2: The moon || Chapter 3: The moon || Chapter 4: The sun || Chapter 5: The sun || Chapter 6: The moon

Pairings: Mafia!Scaramouche × Barista!Reader

Word count: 2,267

Tw: praise kink, degradation, kidnapping, tourture, dub/non-con, forced breeding, dismembering, gore, deaths, age-gap, corruption, use of force, trauma, use of drugs, stalking, mentions of human trafficking on the near chapters, slowburn.

Warning: This fanfiction may contain kidnapping, torture, dub/non-con, forced breeding, dismembering, age-gap, corruption, vigilante Scaramouche, use of force, trauma, use of drugs, stalking, and more. This fiction will continue grow darker as chapters goes by.

Your mental health matters.

□ This chapter contains smut, unprotected sex. What you read is entirely your fault.

CHAPTER 7:

THE MOON

Got patched up and doctor gave me their advice and we went home—well, her home, not mine. I look at her as she got out, I got out too. She turned and looked at me funny, “why are you following me?”

“Oh? You’d nurse me back to get well, no?” I snicker and tilt my head as I took the lead and walk toward her house, “I didn’t agree.” She said, “and I didn’t asked nor requested it.” I added.

She let out a soft hmp, then proceed to walk beside me as we reach the door. Running her hand to her purse, got the key and turn the knob of the front door—revealing what’s inside,

“you didn’t give me a choice.”

“I didn’t even put out an option for you to choose from, so..” I sarcastically answered as she entered her haven annoyed, “don’t be rude to a guest, give me a tour.” I pretend to sulk, pointing to my patched wound that keeping me company would heal it faster.

She rolled her eyes, I smiled and shake my head. She’ll be rolling her eyes in a different way, in bed, under the sheets where she and I get freaky.

“When do I have to keep you entertained and by my side?”

“Until I say so.”

“You’re impossible.”

“but, darling. Don’t you like an impossible man?”

I smiled and lean down, wrapping my right arm around her belly and gave the crook of her neck a peck—making her shudder.

“Don’t you like me, sunshine?” I asked, my tone soft and quiet—only for her to hear, “you’re a threat, a danger to normal citizens like me.” She hisses and tries to resist my grasp, “let go!” she said, smacking my arm off but she couldn’t, she could hurt me all she want but I’m not letting her go.

I smiled and the more she resist and move, the more the her ass grind against my fabric pants, she’s making this hard for me. I lean to whisper in her ear, “sunshine, have you ever come so hard that you wouldn’t even remember your name?”

She froze and stared at me, snapping her neck to look et me as if I’m beyond crazy. “Next question, please.” I could only laugh and just throw her in bed—luckily, we’re in her room, I tilt and wrap both of my arms around her.

“Have you ever got fucked by a man like me?”

This question left her stunned, not knowing what to do as she just looked at me with those wide doe eyes. I buried my face to her neck, taking a deep breath and exhaling—letting my breath hit her skin, sending shivers down her spine.

My lips made contact with her neck, she yelp and shiver against my kiss, “stop!” she protest, “no.” I respond, “keep struggling where your ass is grinding up my dick and I’ll shove my cock into that sweet cunt.” I playfully threaten, seeing her scared and her adrenaline rushing.

I smirked, chuckling against her neck—I let go.

“Let’s play a game, I’ll give you a head start to hide. And if I caught you, I’m dragging you to bed and make you see heaven by riding my cock.”

She froze and I gave her a head start, “One… Two…” I count slowly—seeing her in a panic ignites the fire inside me, or is it just my dick going hard?

She sets off running downstairs, I could hear her foot stomp on each every step she make—I laugh at her reckless movement sets by her panicking on what I said. Then, the noise stop—guessing that she did damn good at picking a hiding spot.

“Eight… Nine… Ten…” I finish, sinister chuckle came out of my mouth, “ready or not, I’m going to fuck you good, sunshine.” I remark and made my way down stairs—inspecting my surroundings and analyze all the objects that’s been moved.

She’s in a panic all right, I want to threaten her a little—just for fun. She’d be shuddering in her hiding spot all day.

“I could smell how wet you are,” I spoke, maybe too much but there’s no backing out now. “I bet it clenched over to nothing, wanting to be full and stuffed with my cock.” I made the heels of my shoe click, letting her know that I’m near and that I can sense where she hid.

I stop at the kitchen counter, tapping the glass and give myself a drink of glass of water. I let silence take over, I could hear her breath shudder and how she’s calming her heart down, I know for sure that she’s in this drawer.

Slowly kneeling down, I held two of the handle with my hand—slowly but surely, I quickly open the drawer and pull her figure in my arms again, “caught you, sunshine.” I said.

She screamed and smack her head onto mine really hard, “fuck! Son of a bitch.” I cursed, my hand falling off of her, making it her chance to escape me. “You like to play a cat and mouse game? I’m going to fuck you really hard once I fucking get you, sunshine.” I grit my words in my teeth, she’s starting to piss me off.

The more piss I am, the more severe the punishment is, I hope she’s looking forward getting her pussy wrecked.

I chase after her, looping around her bedroom and throwing her plushies at me to buy her some time but it didn’t, she got downstairs and started chasing around in circles in the sofa.

“Don’t you wanna feel my cock inside you?”

“Nuh-uh!”

Before she knew it, I threw myself at her—arms around her as I flop her body into my shoulder like a sack of potatoes. Going upstairs for who knows how many times, kicking her bedroom door open and threw her in.

“you know you can’t make an injured person chase you around like that, hm?” I grit my teeth, taking off my blazer, vest and unbuttoned one or two buttons on my polo—my scent filled with my own sweat, “I’m going to have my fun with you sunshine.”

“I’m against this.”

“You’ll change your mind once I stuff my cock in you.”

“on your knees.” I command, my voice still soft but full of authority, my belt around her pretty little neck like a collar—I should buy a collar specifically for her. I smiled and pulled the belt closer, making her face close to my crotch, she frowns and whines.

“Come on, you know what to do.” I taunt, my fingers on her chin, sliding up to the back of her head—gripping on her scalp and nudge her face against my hard bulge.

Got her hands to work and unzip my pants, letting my cock spring free. She stared at it, her eyes screams in terror, I smirked and pat her head.

“is it not to your liking?” I asked, she shot me with a glare, “It’s too girthy, it won’t fit.” It pierce me that I’m only worth in girth and not how long my dick is, “is my size that average?”

She shakes her head, “hm… not too much, I say about 6 inches.” I laugh, covering her mouth and pulling my belt to make her yelp, “quit describing my dick, now work on that pretty mouth of yours.” I said and nudge to encourage her to open wide and suck it.

She opens wide and sucks it in, I hiss and groan in pleasure as I feel her wet little mouth around my length, “fuck, that’s it…” I praise, bucking my hips forward a little, she bobs her head and make sloppy noises.

Her head goes up and down, pulling out to lick every side of my dick and jerking me off, this girl is going to make me lose my mind.

I held her head, push it down until her nostrils hit my pubic hair—she gag and taps my thigh, “no, no. My mother taught me to always finish my food in my plate.” I said and growls, smile creeping in as I use her head like a fleshlight, “so I don’t care whether you choke or gag, I’m going to make sure that you fucking. Finish. Your. Meal.” I punctuate every word as I stood up, turn her hair into a bun and started jerking myself off using her wet mouth.

I look down as I see she’s soaking in her panties and how perk up her nipples were, “fuck, that’s right. Good fucking girl, yeah?” I keep praising her, tears streaming down her cheeks as she gags and find it hard to breathe, closing my eyes as I start to speed up, thrusting my hips as she pleads to slow down.

“I’m going to fuck you like a whore you are.” I breathe in and groan, “fuck, I’m going to cum, sunshine.” I warn, hissing as I shoot my load deep in her throat, her scream muffles as her mouth is full of my cock.

Gushing all my loads out, I thrust a little—making her grunt and tear up just for me to empty my balls in her mouth, I still have a lot to shoot at.

I pulled her out, covered her mouth with my palm as I force her to stand up. “Let me see you swallow,” I growl, brows knitted together as she sniff and force herself to swallow my load, I kiss her temple and whisper praises to her. “Good girl.” I said and pushed her down in her bed.

“Still up for riding my dick?” I taunt, seeing how wet her pussy is, tears drying in her cheeks as I chuckle and laugh at how cute she is.

I lie down and tap my lap for her to sit on, “come sit and put it in yourself, you’re a big girl hmm?” I hum and watch her gather herself together and sit on my lap.

Her glistening pussy nutting on my soft dick that instantly got hard, my hands on her thigh as she whimper at the minimum pleasure she’s giving herself. Arousing herself until she’s ready to be stretched out.

She held herself as she guide my harden dick right at her entrance, teasing herself with my tip as she bounce off my tip—preparing herself as she sinks in.

She screams and moan, head throwing back as I held her arm—preventing her to lose her balance, I thrust forward and she moaned loudly.

“that’s right, darling. I’m just helping…” I grinned, it took her a couple of seconds to get use of my girth as she finally started fucking herself in to my dick.

“that’s right, fucking tight. My little slut, that’s good. Bounce on my dick like a little whore you are.” I degrade and praises her performance, her hand on my chest to support herself as I buck and thrust a little to get a reaction out of her.

“I’m cumming…” she moaned, pulling up to my tip and slamming herself in—my head on the pillow as I curse out loud, “fuck, darling. Don’t do that or I’m gonna cum early…”

I smiled and held her hips in position, preventing her to move. She groan and whines at me and asked why I stopped her from getting her high, “switch,” I said, “I wanna make you scream.” I added and flip her over, my dick still inside her.

I pulled out and thrust harder, she screams and held on to my back and locks of my hair, “oh my fucking god!” she screams and drools, “that’s right, baby. Scream for me.” I taunt and kiss her neck, lifting her thighs up to her face to hit deeper, “too deep!” she complained and arch her back, moving her pussy away.

I pushed deeper until my balls were hitting her ass, she cried and came undone onto my cock, “I’m not fucking done yet, sunshine.” My pace sped up, making her bed creak and squeak. Her cries brings music to my ears as I’m lost in ecstasy inside her wet sponge pussy.

Hitting harder and deeper, I’m close.

“There darling, I’m so fucking close. Want me to shoot my load deep inside you like a slut you are, huh? Beg for it, beg for me to shoot my seeds inside you.”

She pleads and begs, tears coming down as she became a spouting non-sense, along the lines; “mhm, coming!” “Oh my god! Shit, yes, yes!” “ngh, fuck me—!”

My hips stutter as I push my cock deeper, pulling out and slamming my hips as I came inside her. Her legs giving out and trembling, her throat sore from all the screaming and her whole body a mess.

I laugh and growl at her, leaning down as I thrust a few more to get all my load out. “Don’t cry, sunshine. I’m not that rough.” I smiled and kiss her cheeks, “you just had one of the best orgasm you had in entire of your life.”

I pulled out and took tissues to clean her up, zipping up my pants and took her some fresh clothes and dress her up in her pj’s.

She’s getting sleepy, her eyes puffy from all that tearing up because I made her cry from my cock. I scoot over and wrap my arms around her, letting her go with her sleep slumber.

I kiss her temple once again, “I hope you dream about me, sunshine.” I said before going to sleep after her.

Link:

Chapter 8: THE SUN

#genshin impact #genshin smut #dark romance #darkened desires series #scaramouche smut #scaramouche fanfic #scaramouche x reader #scara x reader #scaramouche #genshin scara #Mafia!Scaramouche #Mafia!Scara #Working on chapter 8!!#sorryyy for taking too longgg!!#I'm doing smthing sorry:(

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pleasingforharry · 9 months

Note

I know it was headcannon but you should definitely explore y/n’s anxiety (panic attacks) more and how Harry learns to help her through them and how it makes him feel to have caused her to have one, idk I just have them too so it really made me feel seen

Of course! Let's do it.

college!harry x quiet!yn

Her hands leaked with sweat, so she rolled them down the fabric of her jeans. Her body was beaming hot, but also shivering from some unbeknownst cold. Her teeth bled into her lips. But after the wince of pain from her strength, she let them go with a puffed breath.

Fuck.

Y/N hated this. She hated when this happened. And as much as she wanted to curl into a ball in her boyfriend's arms, she couldn't. She shouldn't. She wouldn't. Especially because she didn't want him to know. Especially because she was embarrassed when it happened. Especially because she didn't want to be a disturbance. Especially because she didn't want to annoy him, to bother him, to anger him.

Especially because he was the reason she was feeling this way.

"Okay, I'm done with this. I'm leaving," Harry growled, storming for the door of Y/N's dorm. "I can't do this, right now."

"Fine then, fucking leave. Go!" Y/N barked back, but feeling the opposite up in her head. Wait no, don't leave. Stay!

"What do you think I'm doing?" Harry snapped at her over his shoulder. His steps were long, making their argument short.

"Being a stubborn asshole, is what you're doing." Y/N couldn't control the words that trickled out her mouth.

She was a whole different person when she was upset. And she'd pay for the consequences later.

"Me?" Harry scoffed, spinning around to face his girlfriend. "You're the one who's being stubborn."

"Don't fucking put this on me! This whole argument started because of you," Y/N shot back, her finger sharply pointing at him.

Harry wanted to explode. He needed to let his anger out, but not around Y/N. As much as he wanted her to see how upset she was making him, the best way for them to cool off is for them to have their space. To let everything out, but separately.

"Yeah, right. It's always me, huh?" He cocked his head to the side. "I didn't do shit. Don't—“

"Harry, are you for real? You literally—“

"I what? I was voicing my opinion? Yeah, that's exactly what the fuck I was doing!" Harry stopped her. "You're the one who made this bigger than it had to be."

"Me? Oh, classic. Blame me," Y/N laughed, falling back down on her couch. She was steaming out of her ears.

Harry fisted his hands and turned away again. "Yeah, I'm out. Fuck this, we're done."

We're done.

What?

Y/N didn't have time to ask him to elaborate before he was out the door and slamming it behind him. The girl was alone, her eyes widened and her body fell numb. Everything was blurring.

We're done? What does he mean by that?

Y/N shot up from her spot and planned to run after him, but something inside her froze. Her legs suddenly gave out, causing her hands to meet the floor. The beating of her heart sprinted from the sound of the gunshot starting the race.

"Wha—“ she gasped as her breath got caught in her throat. Her arms felt weak and began to shake as they tried to keep her up.

Y/N knew what was happening, and it was not what she needed right now. This wasn't the first time she experienced a panic attack, and it definitely wasn't going to be the last.

We're done.

Y/N fell back on her butt to sit down. That's when her body started to heave and the sweating/shivering began. Her hands quivered as they ran through her hair. She wanted to cover her mouth to silence her heavy breathing, not wanting to disturb anyone in the halls.

"Fuck, Y/N, calm... calm," she whispered to herself, shutting her eyes tightly. She gripped the couch beside her and squeezed the cushion. Her mouth and nose worked together to pace her breathing, but it was no use. She couldn't calm down.

Fuck. She needed the one person she couldn't call for help.

Y/N fluttered her eyes open and searched her room. "Plants," she sighed. "There’s… uh a desk chair. Plants, desk—uh… desk chair. Fuck." Her head was dizzy, and she couldn't focus on identifying another object. It was a method to help her push through her panic attack.

She tried again. "Plants, desk chair, uh... picture." It was a framed picture hanging on the wall of her and Harry at one of his soccer games. The team won and even though it was a simple game, as soon as the referee blew the whistle to finalize the score, Harry ran to his girlfriend on the team's bench.

He hauled her into his arms and hugged her. It was short and sweet because he knew eyes would be on them from Harry being a popular player on campus. And as much as he wanted them to see him love on his girlfriend, her tinted pink cheeks told him to wait until they were alone.

Y/N stared at the picture, trying to focus on remembering the feeling in the moment. But it didn't exactly help as she realized what happened minutes earlier between her and her boyfriend.

The girl fell back against the couch and let her eyes fall closed. Nothing was helping, so she simply accepted the panic. The rushed heart, the irregular temperature surging though her body, her chapped lips letting out stinging breaths.

Everything hurt.

"Baby, look at me. Open your eyes." Y/N thought her mind was trying to imagine her boyfriend with her, hoping it would help her panic attack. "Y/N, baby. Come on, let me see you." She felt feathery touches on her cheek and her thigh.

Y/N furrowed her eyebrows as her lids flicked up. She somehow gasped through her panicked breathing as she was met with a worried Harry. He was bent by her side, eyes wildly examining her.

He smiled when she looked at him. "Hey, there you go. Okay, can you sit up for me? Can you do that, baby?" Y/N stared blankly, letting out rasping breaths, but followed instructions.

Harry helped her sit up before he swiftly slithered behind her, him now leaning back against the couch. He tucked Y/N's shaking body against him and sighed.

"Alright, I got you. I always got you, babygirl," He found her ear to whisper in. Y/N's hand couldn't decide where to land as she was scared to touch him. And Harry noticed with a sad frown. "It's okay, you're okay." He slowly met his palms with hers before lacing their fingers together. Their intertwined hands wrapped around Y/N's front, holding her tightly.

"I'm—I can't... I'm trying... I can't—“ Y/N heaved out.

"Just breath, Y/N. Match me, okay?" Harry told her before slowing his breathing to a calming pace. Y/N nodding rapidly and attempted to copy him. "Good girl, baby."

Harry felt horrible, listening to his girlfriend struggle like that. But he's glad his Y/N instincts told him to turn back around and find her. He didn't expect to see her in that state, but all he knew was that he was going to get her out.

"Better," he whispered. "You're doing good, I'm so proud of you." Y/N was finally able to sigh, but not her racing heart. "Do you think you can do me a favor?"

"Wh-what?" Y/N hiccuped.

"Think you help me choose what we're gonna eat for lunch? I'm getting hungry? What should we have?"

Y/N bit her lip again as she thought about it. Harry rocked them slowly, giving her time to focus on his task.

"Um... P-pizza?" She said as a question. Harry hummed, at both her answer and slower breathing. "No pepperoni."

"Yeah, we don't like that, huh?" Harry chuckled against her ear, and she shook her head. "But I don't know. Will that fill us up? What else could we have?"

Y/N didn't realize she had relaxed her tense muscles and calmly fell into her boyfriend's chest.

"We.. we-we liked the pasta at uh... that place next to the pet shop," Y/N said.

"Yeah, I forgot what I got. Do you remember?"

"Mhm," she nodded. "You got angel hair Alfredo. But then it was actually spicy, and your tongue was on fire." Y/N laughed softly. Harry smiled so wide and let it press against the back of her head.

"Good girl, that's right. We had to switch our plates and I had yours, right? You loved mine."

Y/N realized how hard she was squeezing Harry's hand, so she let them go. But Harry immediately grabbed them and laced them together.

"I just want to hold you, baby. Is that okay? Is this too much?" He asked her.

"No."

"Good, I love holding you. You make me so happy, Y/N," Harry whispered to her. "But you know what will make me happier?"

Y/N wiggled in her spot. "What?"

"Your smile."

She blinked, growing shy. Harry chuckled and assisted her to turn to her side. He finally saw her face, softly guiding her chin to face him.

Y/N looked at her boyfriend, only him noticing that she was back. Her body was calm and warm, and safe in his arms.

She sniffled quietly. "What did you mean when you said we're done? Like done done?"

Harry's eyes widened, before shutting as he cursed.

"No, baby. Not at all," he kissed her cheek. "Never, you can't get rid of me. Sorry."

Y/N chuckled, rolling her lips inward.

"I meant, we're done arguing. I hate when we do and I left so we could get some space to cool down, you know?" Harry explained while plucking her lip free. Y/N sighed at his words with a nod.

"Oh okay."

"And I'm sorry for putting you through that. It's my fault," his voice turned soft. "I never want my baby to feel that way. You're too special to me." Y/N smiled, it growing wider.

Harry leaned forward to grasp her lips with his. Their kiss was soft and slow, exactly how he wanted her breathing to be. And she was back. And safe.

"I love you, baby. So so, fucking much," Harry said against their lips. He lifted his girlfriend up so she could turn to face him completely and straddle him. "I'm sorry. Next time, we cool off together. Okay?"

Y/N nodded and kissed him. "Okay. And I love you too."

Harry smiled drunk-like. Dimples. "I can't believe I get to hear you say that to me." Y/N laughed quietly, before wrapping her arms around him and hiding in his neck.

#harry styles x reader #harry styles #harry styles x yn #harry styles imagine #harrystyles #college!harry #harry styles blurb #college!harry x quiet!yn #harry styles oneshot #harry styles angst

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frost-queen · 1 year

Text

Dragon’s bond (Daughter!R x Rhaenyra & Daemon)

Requested by: anon; Forever tag: @missmelodramatic, @theletterhart, @alex--awesome--22, @elllie-does-the-posts, @floatlosers, @merlieve, @queen-of-books, @glimmering-darling-dolly, @denkisclown, @wildieflower, @meyocoko, @bubblybrianna, @justanothercoco @idkwhatmyusernam, @subjecta13-thefangirl, @m-rae23, @harleyquinnswifeyfrfr

Rhaenyra picked up the dragon egg with gentle care. Her expression full of sorrow and concern. Daemon came to her side, drawing her attention to him. He placed a gentle hand on her shoulder as Rhaenyra showed him the dragon egg. Daemon batted his gaze down, knowing what it meant. He took the unhatched egg from her. Rhaenyra took a deep shivering breath, stroking over her stomach to smoothen herself in another role. With a new plastered expression bend she over the crib. Picking up the baby laying inside.

Little head resting on her shoulder, she started rocking. – “My little Y/n.” – she whispered. – “It will all be alright…” – she left a few kisses against your head. Daemon stroking his hand down her back while with his other hand he brushed against your cheek. – “She will be fine… even without a dragon.” – Daemon reassured her. He brought his head closer, kissing his wife’s forehead. – “She will be just fine…”

“Y/n! hold up!” – Jacaerys called out running after you. Guards barely turned a glance at you running and giggling through the corridors at Dragonstone. Your tiny feet moving faster then you could keep up. – “Y/n!” – Jacaerys your eldest brother shouted. You stopped and turned at the end of the corridor, Jacaerys taking a hold. He exhaled loud, thinking you had given up the chance. You thought otherwise. Sticking your tongue out to him, you mocked him for not catching you. – “Y/n! You must get dressed!” – he reminded you, gesturing at your nightdress you were still wearing.

Giggling childishly, you took a run for it. – “Catch me Jace!” – you laughed out, taunting him. Jacaerys groaned getting back in motion to chase you. Lucerys opened a door, coming into the corridor, startled. He jumped back at you running past him, he barely noticed what it was. A blur of a little person. – “Luke!” – Jacaerys breathed out, huffing, and puffing already. Lucerys quirked his eyebrow up at his brother’s approach. – “Y/n!... catch her…” – he made clear, pointing exhaustingly. Lucerys’s eyes widened figuring out it was you that almost ran him over. – “Y/n!” – Lucerys called out loud joining the chase. Now both your oldest brothers were chasing you, simply because you refused to get dressed.

“Y/n please!” – Luke called out. You ignored them, being in your stubborn stage of any five year old. You ran around Dragonstone to avoid your brothers. If they caught you, the fun would be over. Jacaerys and Lucerys gasped loud when they saw which way you were going. – “Y/n! No!” – Jacaerys yelled, hand stretched out in an attempt to stop you. – “Y/n! stop! No!” – Lucerys yelled between Jacaerys’s words in equal panic. You laughed loud, pushing the doors open. You ran inside, your laughter quickly dying as several serious heads turned your way. Swallowing nervously, you didn’t find it so funny anymore.

“Y/n?” – Rhaenyra said tilting her head a bit to the side. Mother sitting at a long table. Father at her right. Several other lords occupying any other seat. All looking curious and serious your way. Daemon chuckled silently, rubbing his finger over his lip. – “Are… are you still not dressed?” – Rhaenyra asked loudly. Her comment making every lord look away. Some looked up to the ceiling as others looked down at their own hands or the wall. You sheepishly smiled as Lucerys and Jacaerys came walking into the meeting room as well. – “Forgive us your grace.” – Jacaerys said taking a bow with his brother. Lucerys approached you, squeezing your shoulder firm.

“We will make sure she is presentable right away.” – Jacaerys added, hearing Daemon chuckle loudly now. His chuckling making Rhaenyra and the lords look his way. – “This is funny to you. Our daughter barging into a meeting room with barely nothing on.” – she asked him. – “Yes!” – Daemon responded loudly. Seeing Rhaenyra’s scowl made him sigh with a roll of his eyes. – “You are all too stiff to even form a laugh.” – he mumbled bothered. – “Sorry mommy…” – you said after Lucerys whispered to you to apologize. – “Sorry, your grace.” – you blurted out after receiving a hard nudge from your brother.

You attempted to curtsy but almost stumbled forwards at a loss of balance. Rhaenyra smiling politely. - "That is alright my child." - she responded. Daemon sighed loud, shoving his chair back. – “Come say bye to daddy, Y/n.” – he said, not caring if anyone would not approve. It was after all his keep and his daughter. Smiling, you ran up to him. Arms wide open, he wrapped them around you, lifting you up with a grunt of pleasure.

He gave you a big kiss before setting you back down. – “Now go get dressed Y/n.” – he said with a stern finger. You nodded. Daemon leaned closer whispering. – “Or mommy will scowl at me later.” – you held your hand for your mouth, chuckling. He spun you around, giving your bottom a pat to set you off. You ran back to your brother’s, taking Lucerys’s hand. Jacaerys bowed his head, hoping he wouldn’t receive a lecture about it later.

The three of you left the meeting. Lucerys exhaling relieved. – “Now come along Y/n!” – Jacaerys insisted tugging firm at your hand. You followed obedient. Your brothers remained in your room wanting to make sure you were properly dressed by your maid before you could escape her clutches again. Finally presentable, they left, leaving you alone. You remained in your room to play till you got bored and wanted to explore. Hopping whilst humming a hymn, you were followed by one of your personal guards.

Staying close to you, but not too close to ruin your own game. Touching the walls, you hopped further down the hallway. – “Princess.” – Lords said bowing when passing you. Barely giving them a glance, you were so invested in your own imaginary game. More people started to pass through the corridor, carrying items for an upcoming banquet. You were so little; you could easily disappear. – “Princess?” – your guard called out in a slight panic. He pushed some ladies aside who carried fruit baskets. – “Princess!” – He repeated louder, shoving more people away that were blocking his view on you.

You carelessly went your way, not knowing he wasn’t following anymore. Walking underneath iron plates that carried shot wildlife. You came at the end of the corridor, taking an unusual turn, you had never taken. Wondering where it would lead you. – “Princess!” – your guard panicked, fear clear in his tone. He got to the end of the corridor to a crossway, looking both ways. Sadly there was no sign of you. – “Princess!” – he shouted looking around to which way you might have gone.

There came no response as he started sweating. No other option then to tell your parents that he lost track of you. Swallowing nervously, he turned on his heel, heading for the throne room. You found yourself in a dark corridor where the air was damp. It was a bit chilly, but you kept going. Coming to some stone steps that lead you down. The closer you got, the warmer it suddenly became. Entering an open space down below ground, you stared in shock and awe. A low rumbling sound startled you. Despite it, you went further down. Chains rattled over the ground as something heavy moved. A heat coming off of it.

You approached, making out vaguely a shape. A sharp nail slid your way, lighted up by the light coming from the torches. – “Puppy?” – you called out. The dragon Vermithor roared deep from below his stomach, lifting his head. You had a smile on your face, running up to the dragon. Vermithor watched you with a close eye, bringing his head closer to you. The exhale from his nose, blowing your hair back. You laughed as it tickled. – “Silly dragon puppy.” – you said waving your hand.

Vermithor looked down as you ran up to his scaly body. The dragon sitting down, having barely moved. It tilted his head slightly as you laid down against it. Your body moving with his breathing motions. You hummed satisfied letting your small hand run over his scales. Gasping loud, you removed yourself from his body. Vermithor roared, shaking his head.

He turned his head sharply your way, feeling a tug on his body. He snarled angrily, bringing his head closer to his wing. He stopped snarling when his wing got lifted up a bit, revealing you. – “Boo.” – you said laughingly. You lowered the wing once more, hiding underneath it. Lifting it up once more, you revealed yourself to the dragon. Playing peek a boo with his wing. Vermithor’s tail swished over the ground as a playful sign. His wing went higher as you couldn’t reach it anymore. It almost made you cry as you were enjoying that.

Then Vermithor dropped his wing, dropping it’s weight on you. You fell to the ground from the weight, laying flat down. Vermithor lifted his wing back up, surprised for a moment you weren’t there. Till it heard you laugh loud, laying down on your stomach. The dragon flapped his tail on the ground in delight. You got up, laying down by his warm belly. Snuggling against his scaly skin. Vermithor moving his head closer, giving you a little nudge with his nose.

“Your grace!” – The guard said, barging into the room. Rhaenyra slowly turning her head to him. Daemon revealing himself more, leaning closer to look behind his wife. – “Yes.” – she calmly said. – “It is the princess… I…I lost her.” – the guard openly confessed with a bow. – “What?” – Daemon called out, slamming his fist on the table. – “How can you loose a literal child! Have you perhaps gone blind? Should I poke an eye out or two for you to finally open your f*cking eyes!” – Daemon scolded, standing up with a knife pointed at the guard.

Rhaenyra brought her hand down to calm him. Daemon settled back down with much complaining. – “Where did you last saw her.” – Rhaenyra asked. The guard told them where. Both pushed their chairs back, getting up in a haste. Rhaenyra and Daemon running over to where you were last seen. They searched every way, asking around if they had seen you. When all was lost, came a concerned thought to Daemon’s mind.

“You don’t think…” – he started, looking concerned at Rhaenyra. She looked equally terrified. They both started running needing to look for themselves. Hoping they wouldn’t find your burned corpse. Running for their lives to the dragon’s pit. – “Y/n! Y/n!” – Rhaenyra shouted, running down the stone steps. Daemon right behind her.

You lifted your head up, hearing your name. – “Y/n!” – Rhaenyra screamed with panic. Vermithor lifted his head roaring in their direction, putting them to a stop. Rhaenyra and Daemon staring in shock at the large dragon. – “Y/n. Y/n come slowly my way.” – Daemon told you, keeping a close eye on the dragon. – “Y/n please… slowly… don’t look at the dragon… look at me.” – Rhaenyra said motioning for you to come. She took one step, stopping at Vermithor snapping his jaw her way. Not letting them come any closer

“Mommy, Daddy look at my puppy dragon.” – you exclaimed, pointing at the dragon’s head. Vermithor lowered his head to you. You wrapping your hands around his nose. Rhaenyra stared in shock at you. Daemon suddenly laughing. – “She’s got a dragon!” – he cheered, arms raised. – “Our daughter tamed a dragon at this age!” – he couldn’t be more proud. Rhaenyra chuckled once, finding some fun in it eventually. How was it that the smallest of Targaryen tamed a large dragon at such an age. Daemon knelt as you ran over to him. He picked you up, twirling with joy. – “You got yourself a dragon Y/n.” – he told you, resting his forehead against you. Rhaenyra joining to give you a kiss.

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wheels-of-despair · 7 months

Text

Fangs for the Mammaries Pairing: Eddie Munson x You Summary: Eddie brings a shexy new toy into the bedroom. Contains: Attempted sexytimes, excessive goofiness, banter that will make you cringe, Eddie being Eddie, Evil Woman wanting a divorce from a moron she's not even married to yet. Words: 1.2k Note: Youths and ageless blogs, DNI. Writer will block your ass.

"Gettin' bored over here, Munson."

You're lying on your back on his bed, blindfolded, listening to him run around the room.

"Keep your panties on, I've gotta set the mood!"

"Why did a chill just run up my spine?" you deadpan.

"AHA!" His triumphant cackle makes your hair stand on end.

After a few clicks of lights and lamps and the unmistakable shuffle of Eddie struggling to get out of his jeans, the mattress bounces as he jumps on top of you. His knees straddle your hips, and his hands close around your wrists, bringing them up above your head.

"Does this mean you're finally ready to sex me up?"

"Mhm," he hums. You can hear his smile, and fight one of your own. The mattress creaks as he leans down. You feel his breath on your cheek. His nose nuzzles your neck. And then…

"WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT?!"

You feel him shaking with laughter on top of you, and fight to free your hands from his grasp. When you finally overpower him - or more likely, he decided to let you go - you rip off the bandana he'd used as a blindfold… and your jaw drops.

"Are you fucking kidding me, Edward?"

Eddie roars with laughter.

So much, in fact, that the plastic vampire fangs almost fall out of his mouth.

He reaches up to shove the vibrant green teeth back in, glowing bright in the blacklight that bathes the room in purple, then shakes out his hair like he's in a shampoo commercial.

"D'you not fine thish shexy?"

"Get your ass off of me, I'm leaving."

"Uh-uh!" He falls forward again and pins your wrists.

"Gib me a kish."

"No."

"Pleash."

"No."

He bats his eyelashes and sucks back the spit that had been gathering in his open mouth so it doesn't dribble on you. What a gentleman.

"Pleeeeash."

You can't hold back your laughter anymore.

"Alright, fine, c'mere, you psychopath," you roll your eyes.

If you're into all tongue and no lip action, invest in a pair of plastic vampire fangs.

When he's done slobbering on your face, he moves to your neck.

"If you bite me, I'm gonna repay the favor," you warn.

"Promish?"

"Let my hands go so I can smack you."

You feel him chuckle against your collarbone, and he does. But for some reason, your hands come to rest on his shoulders instead of carrying out your threat. He nibbles his way down to his beloved girls.

"Sho shoft," he mumbles, rubbing his face against your breasts. The only thing separating him from your warm skin is a faded t-shirt. He drifts a little lower and starts pulling your shirt up with his fangs, an inch at a time, glancing up at you like he's waiting for permission.

Or for you to do it for him.

You reach down to grab the hem and help him out, whipping the shirt over your head and throwing it elsewhere. His eyes get bigger, just like they always do when he sees you naked. He'd probably lick his lips, were he not trying to keep his fangs from falling out.

You shiver when the points of his fangs graze your soft flesh. He's gonna bite. You know he's gonna bite.

He circles your nipple with the edge of one of his plastic teeth and your brace yourself.

"OW!" You jump when he finally bites you. It's not painful, just not something you'd experienced before. Obviously.

"You kay?" he raises his head and asks with panic.

"Keep goin', Drac," you laugh, wrapping your legs around him to pull him closer. He grins and dives back in. He spends a while nibbling at each breast, getting harder each time a bite causes your body to twitch against him. It's a strange sensation that causes a lot of giggling from both parties.

"I can't believe I'm letting you do this," you laugh. "How did I get here? What did I do wrong?"

"You lub it," he mumbles, moving down to your stomach. You lub him.

"Nope," you say when his slobbery kisses reach the waistband of your panties.

"Pleash," he whines, trying to get a fang between the elastic and your skin. You slide a hand into his hair and try to guide him away.

"Nope. We're done here, Count Dorkula."

"Just onsh?"

"Nope."

"I'll shtop if you dote like it." He bats his pretty eyelashes up at you, and you sigh. He just looks so damn cute.

"One time, and then we never speak of this again."

"Yesh!"

You hold your face in your hands, dragging your fingers down your cheeks. The things we do for lub.

Eddie slides your panties off, spreads your legs, and dives in with his stupid plastic fangs.

It only takes a few seconds for you to forget about the absurdity of the fangs and focus on the tongue. He doesn't try to nip or bite. He doesn't quite get his normal reach, with the plastic in the way, but he makes up for it with speed.

He doesn't surface until you've soaked his face. He drops the fangs into his hand and grins at you.

"You know what would've been awesome?"

"If your next sentence contains the word 'blood', I'm gonna kick you in the face."

He laughs and crawls up the bed to lie next to you, leaning over to deposit the teeth on his nightstand.

"This is the best day of my life," he grins, gazing at you like you hung the moon.

"I want a divorce."

"We're not married yet," he laughs, getting comfortable on his back next to you.

"I'm gonna marry you just so I can divorce you."

"I'll take what I can get, I guess." He reaches for your hand and gives it a squeeze. You lie there for a moment, staring up at the glow-in-the-dark stars you'd stuck on his ceiling together, until you have the strength to move.

"Be right back," you smile, turning to kiss him before rolling out of bed to go freshen up.

He's so pleased with himself for pulling off his fang stunt that he doesn't notice you swipe them from the table on your way out. Or the suspicious curve of the hand that's concealing them when you return.

Eddie is right where you left him; lying on his back in the center of the bed, hands behind his head and a tent in his boxers. You hop onto the mattress and straddle him like he did you, starting at his neck and slowly kissing a trail down to his boxers. He lifts his ass and lets you take them off and throw them aside.

You duck your head so he can't see, and when you raise back up…

"No," he says quickly.

"Told you I wash gonna repay the fabor."

"Don't."

"I shurvived. Sho will you."

"Babe."

"Your mouf shaysh no, but thish," you gave his leaking cock a light tap, "saysh yesh."

He whines. His brow furrows and his dick twitches as he considers it. He'll cave. You just have to wait it out.

You lace your fingers and rest your chin on top of them, blinking up at him sweetly from your position between his legs. You grin through the gleaming hunk of plastic in your mouth. He'll cave. You know he'll ca--

"Do it, please, oh my god, what the fuck--" His whining stops the second you glide your mouth down the length of his cock.

Stupid glow-in-the-dark vampire fangs and all.

#writings of despair #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #no i did not go out and buy a pair of cheap vamp fangs so i could accurately translate this #(this is a lie. anybody need a pair? i have spares. XD)

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dirtytransmasc · 1 year

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Idk why but i have this hc that when Spider was younger, he disappeared for a couple days to see if anyone noticed, and nobody did. Like, the scientists assumed he was with the Sullies and the Sullies thought he was with the scientists. So after that he tried it a couple more times, and still nobody really noticed. he got into the habit of disappearing into the forest for days. With that being said, he tries it with whoever adopted him and they flip out. Sorry this is long lol.

gods he would.

he would wait, wait for someoone to be worried, each time he would disappear he would stay out in the woods longer, praying to Eywa, his Mother, that someone would notice, someone would come looking.

everytime he would go back starving, dirty, and dehydrated; he'd chug water till he felt sick and then sleep for hours, and still no one worried.

eventually he pushed himself to far, and it took hours to find the kid, passed out in a shivering ball, no one had seen him in days, and by the time he did he was on his last of his spare battery. instead of being doted on, he was scoffed at and lectured on running away and being safe in the woods. he never told anyone why he did it, never told them he just wanted to see if anyone cared.

after that he only stays out there for a day at a time, normally sneaking to either one of his 'homes' in the cover of night. no one asks questions, no one even notices, or if they do, no one says anything.

so when he starts doing it around Quaritch, never being able to wander far, but avoiding him on the ship to see if he would notice, sending the man into a panic each and every time. Quaritch will pretend not to care, but after the boy dodges him for hours, letting the man believe he was lost, he can't help but let it show a little. it's worse when spider does it in the field, cause again, he can't wander far, but he's good at hiding, and he'll put Quaritch and the team on their heads, making them nervous as all hell that something bad happened to him.

when he does it to ronal and tonowari, he gets to very aggressive love and affection and a shit ton of worry. they both go out searching for him, his siblings too, searching day and night till they find him (it doesn't take long, but it feels like an eternity to them). when they find him, it feels like they've always got a hand on him, he can't break away from any alone time, and he can't pretend like they don't care. they hold him like he's going to vanish, they beg him not to run off like that again, they shower him with love and affection.

when ronal asks him why he doesn't really have an answer. he knows why he used to do it, but is that still why he does it? he can barely mutter his answer when he finally gives into his prodding.

"used to run off... see if people... if they would notice"

"notice?"

"notice if I ran off... if I disappeared"

"oh my child"

she would hold him for hours if she could, she would never put him down for the rest of her life if it meant her son would never have to run away just to know people cared.

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adventuringblind · 7 months

Text

Picking at my Sins

Oscar piastri x reader

Genre: Angst, smut?

Summary: Reader comes from a religious background and struggles with self worth. Oscar is there to pick up the pieces.

Warnings: religious trauma, alluded to SH, panic attacks, talks of sex

Notes: mmmmmm definitely not self projecting or anything

Masterlist

The one thing nobody teaches in church is that innocence is simply a construct in the human mind. No one is ever truly innocent. Especially those who you expect to always love and respect you. The ones who preach to always follow the rules.

They turned their back on her. A mistake that wasn't even hers led to her entire church turning their backs on her. She was left to fend with nothing. Her parents were facing the same issue, only they were the ones who started it.

It was for that reason she left.

She wouldn't call herself innocent. Simply inexperienced. She knows what she would like to try but hasn't been able to do so.

She was alone for so long. A new place makes it hard to make friends. Especially since she has a religious background, people tend to immediately think the worst.

She met Oscar in October of 2022. It was cold and rainy that evening. She needed something from the store, and she didn't have a car, so she'd settled for walking in the torrential down pour.

Alcohol. She needed alcohol after a lengthy conversation with her mom that didn't end well and a ten hour shift at a job she gets minimum wage for. Then, to feed her depressed mood, she went to the nearest park with a pretty view, sat on the bench, and drank straight from the bottle.

She's not sure how long she'd been here, but it was long enough that she was shivering and drenched. The liquor barely touched. How had religion touched that, too? Why does she feel sick at the idea of putting her mouth to the bottle?

The park is deserted, and she assumes that it'll remain that way. It doesn't. And at some point, a male comes running towards her. He's probably just out for some kind of workout he can't pause even for the weather.

She assumes he'll run right by her. He doesn't. Imstead he stops to make conversation. Then he sits with her. Then they walk together to somewhere out of the rain.

That is how she found herself talking to the Australian any moment she got. It's how she made a friend who didn't care that she couldn't stomach eating food at times because it could cause imperfections. A friend who let her rant about her ridiculous situation.

Then, a friend became a lover. He asked her out in January. He asked her to that same park which they had met months earlier. He told her they didn't have to do anything quickly. That he was willing to help her figure it out. He truly saw her for who she was and wanted to continue having stupid conversations and finding weird locations to explore.

She worked through things slowly. Many panic attacks were had. The first time she dyed her hair, she cried. Her first time wearing clothes that revealed more than they should have, she also cried. She couldn't even wear them out due to the sheer amount of overwhelming feelings.

Then she left to travel with Oscar. He dragged her around the world with him. Asking nothing in return aside from loving him unconditionally and being his pillar through the stress of a rookie season.

He was so gentle through everything. Honest with her about every misconception she had about life. Reminded her daily that being herself wasn't a sin.

The one thing she hadn't been able to get past was intimacy. It is the most taboo subject to speak about in a church. Aside from hearing that it's bad unless you're married. If it happens any other way, then you'd be punished. Shunned by all. Labeled as wicked and disgusting.

Hand holding was the first step. That came pretty easy while they were friends even. Then he kissed her and she kissed back and even though she was clumsy it was amazing.

The kiss was followed by the first of many panic attacks. A nasty thing that had her wailing and clawing at her skin.

Eventually, she got past that. Though she picked up new habits that probably weren't the best. Oscar made it a point to keep her hands occupied in more productive ways. Even if it felt childish like coloring in a colorbook. They went through three of them in a month. It became a way that they both relax.

She felt herself getting more comfortable with touch after that. Even getting far enough to get clothes off.

And then she wanted to have him completely. He was so gentle through the entire thing. Always asking how she felt. The girl felt utterly clueless and fumbled with everything, but she didn't panic. Maybe it was the overwhelming feeling of love that kept those dark thoughts out of her brain.

It was a month later that it all came crashing down. Her parents had found her. They showed up at her flat while Oscar was there.

She'd never seen the Aussie so defensive. He'd always been so laid back. Until she watched him tell her parents to get out in a horrifyingly stern voice.

It didn't matter, though. The damage had already been done. They'd already yelled about how awful she'd become. The female had just hung her head and listened. It came like muscle memory.

Oscar did get them out eventually. They left in a flurry of shouts as Oscar closed the door and locked it. Then he started from square one again.

That's when the panic attacks during sex started. She couldn't stop the thoughts. They snuck up on her. One second, she was in bliss, and the next, she was trying to claw her skin off her body. The overwhelming disgust with herself seemed to set in after that.

But Oscar was there, every time. He would hold her. Get her cleaned up. Place bandages where her nails had managed to rip skin. Then he’d occupy her mind with anything far away from the topics of intimacy and sex. He’d let her initiate contact so he didn’t scare her.

Sometime, he gets asked by friends (Lando) about his personal life. Why the two aren’t often see going out together. Why she prefers to do a shot then drink mocktails for the rest of the night.

And Oscar always gives the same over used response. “Cause I’d rather see her smiling then picking herself apart over make believe sins.”

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gtgbabie0 · 1 year

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I have a Request. Best friends to lovers with James Potter. James potter stealing readers favourite shampoo. The reader notices this while she's in the shower. So angry she wraps a towel around her body and storms up to there marauders dorm with her hair soaking wet. She thinks that it was sirius who took and but she notices James in front of the mirror with a towel wrapped around his waist. Hair soaking wet. So she reaches to smell his hair only to find out that his hair smells like her shampoo

Sun-kissed berries

{James potter steals your shampoo because it smells like you}

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James potter was undoubtedly in love with everything about you, he often finds himself thinking about you in the late hours of the night, the way you smile, how you talk, your hugs even the way you smell and James doesn’t know how such mundane things about you can drive him up the wall with love, but they do.

And he blames that one shampoo you use and its sickeningly sweet berry scent that fills his senses whenever you’re around him, making him dizzy with adoration, and he so desperately wants to tell you how he feels, to lay in bed with you and list off all the things he finds amazing about you, but he won’t he’s far too scared of losing you completely.

So perhaps that’s why James decides to steal your shampoo, and he tells himself he shouldn’t because you only have the tiniest amount left but he’s never been one to make good decisions, so why start now? he thinks as he washes his hair with the sweet-smelling shampoo without any regret.

“She’s going to kill you mate,” Sirius says shaking his head, while James dries off his hair with a towel.

“No she won’t— well she might, but she can’t stay mad at me forever” James mumbles as he ties the drawstrings of his joggers up, his fingers running through his soft damp curls with a proud smirk on his face.

“James you used all of it?!” Remus shouts from the bathroom looking at the empty bottle and James watches as Sirius looks over at him with a shocked expression, his mouth slightly agape as he gasps.

James tries to conjure up some kind of excuse, failing miserably and all he can do is roll his eyes and sigh.

“Fuckin hell James you’ve got it bad” Sirius chuckles taking a seat on the chair, his socked feet resting on the wooden desk, and he replies with a small, not very convincing ‘no I don’t’ but he knows deep down that he does, he loves you.

It was late when you finally got back to your room, and you felt gross from the stressful day you’d had, nothing sounded better than a nice shower, and it would have been great if you weren’t missing a vital part of your shower routine, your shampoo, sun-kissed, berries gone.

Which only fuelled your anger more because who the fuck would steal your shampoo?

Sirius, that’s who, you thought back to that one conversation, he said something about ‘nicking it from you because it smelt like dessert’ and you felt your skin tingle with irritation as you got out of the warm shower wrapping a towel around your body and you feel a sudden coldness seep into your bones making you shiver which only made you seethe with further anger.

“SIRIUS BLACK!” You shout as you storm out of the bathroom, all three of the boys froze in panic as they hear you storm up the stairs, and James’ jaw hits the floor when he sees you walk into the bedroom with just a towel wrapped around your soaking body, and he watches the water droplets that fall from your hair and down your collarbones, and he blushes at the sight.

You walked over to Sirius whose face was painted with a smug smirk, “You’re a fucking prick, I only had a little bit left in the bottle, why the fuck would you steal it? you could've just asked?!” You seethe through gritted teeth, your brows knitted together with frustration.

“What? I didn’t even take it!" He shouts feeling slightly offended as you roll your eyes and you notice the way James is standing there with wet hair and a very guilty look on his face, you huff in disbelief storming over to where he stands.

“Lovely I-“ caught.

“Don’t ‘lovely’ me James” you mumble as you pull him towards you, and a familiar scent fills your senses, Sun-kissed berries your shampoo he looks at you with a sorry smile and it almost makes you want to forgive him, “James, you’re a prick” you snap turning to the door.

“I hate all of you.” You huff before storming out of the bedroom, and you hear Remus shout something about how he ‘didn't do anything’ as you make your way back to your bedroom.

It was early evening now, the sun had set and fallen behind the trees as it dusts the world with its orangey light, and James grabs his wallet after slipping on his jumper.

“Where you going?” Remus asks looking up from his book as he watches James get ready with a frantic rush.

He feels bad, probably more than he should do that’s why he decides to go shop for that one specific brand of shampoo you’ve always used.

“To get back in her good books,” James says with a hopeful smile before leaving, and Remus can't help but shake his head at the very obvious love-sick boy as he darts out the room with determination, and with a little bit of Potter luck he finds the bottle of Sun-kissed berries shampoo, mumbling a little excited 'yes' as he makes the purchase.

You’re lying on the bed, singing softly to yourself as you color one of the pages in your coloring book surrounded by a sea of felt-tip pens, and you hear three distinct knocks on your door, you roll your eyes.

“Go away James” you mumble and but he’s a stubborn man with the task of winning you back and he's never been the type of person to back down especially when it comes to you.

“But I got you something, I think you’ll really appreciate it,” he says from the other side of the door and you sigh as your heart blooms with a loving feeling, you yell at him to enter, and he does with his hands behind his back and a bright smile.

“I’m really sorry lovely” he whispers, showing off the new bottle of shampoo, shaking it in your direction slightly before putting it down on the table, and you can’t stop the smile that teeters on your lips as the nickname ‘Lovely’ floats around your head swarming your belly with butterflies, he always seems to have an effect on you.

He kicks his shoes off before sitting on your bed, and you curse his stupidly cute face and the way he makes your heart flutter with love, “I’m sorry” he says once again however you very much doubt his words.

“Are you really?” You ask with a knowing look.

“No— well I’m sorry but I don’t regret it,” he says and you notice the way a subtle red flushes against his cheeks, “I’m sorry I upset you” he mumbles looking away from you.

You reach out for his hand and he looks at you look with gentle eyes, your thumb brushing against his knuckles, “I’m sorry I called you a prick” you say, and James thinks his heart might jump out of his chest as look at him with the softest eyes, so sweet. You’re so lovely.

“Oh no it's alright, sweetheart, I mean I kinda deserved it” he chuckles and you feel all giddy inside with the way he's looking at you, you start to toy with his fingers trying to calm your heart as it runs laps in your chest.

"Why did you even steal it anyway?" you ask noticing the way he looks everywhere but you, his hand squeezes yours as he lets out a breathy giggle, and it's not like the gentle touches or lingering gazes were unusual for you both, in fact, they came naturally, you just both wished it meant more.

he glances over at you noticing how your head tilts slightly waiting for his answer, and he has a sneaking suspicion that you already know the answer to that, "I think you know why" he whispers and you chuckle.

"Mmm, yeah but I want to hear you say it, tell me Jamie" you whisper a fluttery feeling swarms his stomach making him go dizzy in the best way possible and he goes all bashful at the nickname and he loves the way it sounds coming from you. All the words he wants to say to you sit on his tongue but none dare to leave, you watch as he tries to conjure up the confidence.

You take his hands in yours urging him to say something, "I love you, like a stupid amount, I love the way your just you, I don't know- I can't explain it" he sighs wincing at how bad he is at this, he looks at you and your loving smile and a wave of relief washes over him

“You love me?” you giggle watching as he picks up one of the many colored felt-tip pens that scatter on your bed coloring the flower with a concentrated look in an attempt to stop his mind racing with thoughts.

“Yeah” he whispers, switching color to a darker purple to shade one of the petals.

You move your hand through his soft hair, and he looks over at you, his breathing a little faster than usual and his mind runs with different thoughts, “I love you too Jamie” You say softly as you inch closer to him, dangerously close, and you can feel his shaky breath against your face.

"Yeah?" he breathes

“Yes” you smile, glad that he decided to steal your shampoo as you lean into him capturing his supple lips in a loving kiss, and his hand finds your warm face cupping your cheeks as he pulls you closer to him and you giggle swinging your leg over his thigh to sit comfortably on his lap careful of coloring book that still lays on your bed.

“Watch the coloring book, Potter,” you say lips grazing against his as he quickly picks it up moving onto the bedside table.

You go to kiss him again but he’s quick to stop you, “Does this mean we're" he trails off thinking about all the times he’s daydreamed about this and now he’s a stuttering mess.

“Yes James” you smile and he nods with a bashful grin, excitement flurrying through his chest. He kisses you, with so much love and care, that it leaves you breathless, your hands thread through his soft hair as his sneak under your shirt resting against the small of your back, and the sweet smell of sun-kissed berries fills your senses, while you deepen the passionate kiss, and James makes a mental note to ask you on an actual date tomorrow.

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suuuupernovaaa · 1 year

Text

reypay

reypay [ˈɾɛj.paj] n. blood

Request from @neteyamforlife: Can I request a Neteyam x reader story where it takes place after the fight with Ao’nung, and the reader sees Neteyam’s split lip and finds it really attractive but is kinda embarrassed to say anything and Neteyam teases the reader about it at the end?

tw: blood

1,044 words

The surface tension breaks, and I take in a long, deep breath when my head is finally above water. My arms are full of a strong, deep green kelp that I plan to use to weave baskets, and it took me longer than usual to surface, using just my legs.

I paddle my way to the shore, until the water is shallow enough for me to walk. It was a much longer excursion than I expected, and the day is nearing its end. As I exit the water and walk on the warm, white sand, someone hollers my name.

I turn, and see Tsireya approaching me, breathless, with eyes widened in panic.

"What is it?" I ask, dropping the kelp and reaching out to grab her arm. Tsireya is sensitive, but not often panicked or worried; she's much more likely to be overly happy, or sad, but overall, she's carefree. Any cause for concern for Tsireya is certainly cause for concern for me, as well.

"The boys, they all got into a big fight!"

"What boys?"

"Ao'nung, and Roxto, they were picking on Kiri, and her brothers, well... beat them. Savagely."

"Bah!" I exclaim, leaning down to pick up my harvest for the day. My brother, Roxto, is always getting himself into trouble, and it's always Tsireya's brother, Ao'nung, goading him into it. "They got what they deserve. They should not be picking on anyone, those morons."

"Neteyam got hurt."

This piques my interested, but I try not to let Tsireya see. While she may wear her feelings boldly and proudly for anyone to see, I am not so confident with my inner affections.

"Badly?" I ask, walking forward towards my mauri.

"If it's anything like Ao'nung..." she trails off, following me quietly the short walk back to my home. I bite my lip as I hang the kelp up in strips. What I want to do is drop this task and run to where the Sullys are staying, but I remain as cool and collected as I can. Tsierya helps towards the end, speeding things up.

She elbows me and breaks the silence. "You should go see him. Make sure he's okay."

I roll my eyes, but turn on my heel, following her recommendation anyway.

I pause just outside of the Sully's pod, listening to their conversation. I don't mean to eavesdrop, but I don't want to intrude, either.

"How did the other guys look?" Jake is asking.

"Worse," Neteyam replies, and I can hear the smile in his voice. "Much worse."

"Good," Jake replies. There's a pause, and I take that as my chance to round the corner. I nearly run into Neteyam's father as he is leaving.

"Oh, sorry," he says, shuffling to the side, not slowed down by my arrival.

I'm surprised to find Neteyam alone. Typically where there is one Sully, there is at least one or two more. His shoulders straighten as I enter, and I see that it is not so bad as Tsireya has made it out to be. There is a bruise here or there, and his lip is split and bleeding, but he is not too badly hurt.

I wonder how Roxto and Ao'nung faired.

"I hear you savagely beat my brother today," I say, approaching Neteyam, encircling him to make sure that the split lip is the worst of the damage.

"I'm sorry, Y/N, I-"

I wave my hand in front of my face. "Oh, stop, we both know Ao'nung is a moron and my brother does whatever that moron tells him to do."

Reaching up, I grab his face, turning it side to side, taking a close look at the cuts and bruises.

"Did my brother do this?" I say, running a feather-light finger over his lip. He shivers.

He shivers.

Something about the bruise above his eye, and the blood below his lip, and the way he shivered under my touch... it sends a matching shiver up my spine. I have to close my eyes and take a steadying breath.

Something about seeing Neteyam like this, bloodied and bruised, is stirring something in me. I don't know whether to hang my head in shame, or kiss him and taste the blood.

"Hard to say," Neteyam answers my question, bringing me back to reality.

"Are you... okay?" I ask, finally removing my hand from his face. He reaches out, grabbing it, bringing it right back to his cheek.

His battered mouth spreads into a smile, revealing his teeth, still perfect, within. "This helps."

My lips part, taking in a small gasp, and I run my thumb very slowly over his bottom lip once more.

"You like it," Neteyam whispers, and my eyes flick from his mouth, to his eyes, and back to his mouth again.

"I don't like you hurt but..."

"You think it's kind of hot."

My lips curl up in a tiny smile, and my cheeks heat with embarrassment. My eyes meet his again. I had not imagined, if I ever were to confess my feelings to Neteyam, that it would go anything like this.

Certainly there wasn't supposed to be blood involved, even if it made my knees weak and my head feel light and heavy at the same time.

I swallow. "Yes."

Neteyam reaches out, wrapping one arm around my waist, pulling me just a little closer to him.

"I would let someone punch me every day, if it meant you would react to me like this." He beds down, just gently brushing his lips across mine, and they’re wet and salty. A shiver runs up my spine, and I close my eyes.

"You don't need to be bloodied to make me feel this way," I reply.

Neteyam lets out a low laugh. "That's a relief."

His lips capture mine in another kiss, more demanding this time, and I can taste his blood, but it doesn’t seem to hurt him, at least not enough for him to say anything.

When we finally pull apart, he smiles widely at me. "I've been waiting to tell you... how I feel. I didn't know your brother just needed to punch me to make it happen."

I throw my head back and laugh. "Well, I guess I'm glad he did."

#neteyam #neteyam x reader #Neteyam fic #avatar 2 #avatar twow

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