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leviathanverse · 5 months

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Unique... creature?

This is a small thing I thought of if my oc met @mylou-doodlesworld au. I hope you enjoy!

Golden eyes scanned the surroundings, the creature walking under the cover of darkness. The only thing others would see were the glowing eyes. The trees, its only cover, gave way, the moon acting as a stage light to reveal what the creature was.

A humanoid wolf with brown ears, hair that faded from brown to purple equipped with a tail of the same coloration, black markings under its eyes, a baby blue and pink sweater worn by it, brown sweatpants with no shoes, revealing the feet of the creature. Instead of a human nose on its human face, it had a small wolf nose. Unlike most humanoids with animal feet, this creature had human feet. From their heels, their feet extended to a more digigraded look. Their hands, although human, had claws sharp enough to cut through flesh with ease.

For those that observed it closely, would see human ears peak from the loose hair that hid them away. Another unusual feature for a humanoid.

Its footsteps silent, ears twitching from any sound that was heard. Although, it was something that didn't belong in this forest or world. How it had landed in a world like this, was a mystery.

It froze, pupils dilated to form slits. It lifted its head, sniffing the air like an actual creature. It didn't act human. Its human and animal traits not balanced like most humanoids.

At the most unexpected time, it jumped into the air, wings fading from brown to purple sprouted from its back, like it used magic to hide its feathered limbs. Just in time before roots lunged at its feeble but agile form.

Growls as deep and menacing as a volcano erupting was heard nearby. However, it couldn't pinpoint where the growls came from or what direction the source was. All it knew: was that it was in danger.

The roots, with minds of their own, lunged at it, attempting to grab it, wrap around it to ensure it couldn't escape.

The creature, although easy to grab, made it quite difficult for the roots to grab it. It used agility and careful thinking to dodge every single attack, stamina lasting a lot longer than many would expect.

Whatever had controlled it clearly had enough, finally revealing who or what had controlled the roots. A dragon, a lot larger than what many would expect, came out of hiding in its peripheral vision.

The dragon looked furious, not to mention a little shocked and impressed as it stared at the creature. Its wings were a dark purple with circles that looked like the sun itself.

The dragon opened its wings, and the creature instantly felt fear. Its eyes widened with fear, trauma taking over its body. But unlike most of the prey the dragon had used this technique on, the creature reacted differently.

Instead of crying, screaming, begging to be saved and begged to be spared; the creature did the total opposite. It closed its wings, hands extended along with its feet, going in for the kill. Like a wolf, but more feral.

Almost as if it had too much animalistic traits than human traits. Not like the dragon. It was very much wild, but not feral. It had both human and dragon traits, making the dragon a bit more sentient.

But the creature? It acted like a non-sentient thing. Like an experiment gone wrong type of non-sentient. The dragon, surprised by the boldness of this foreign creature, took off into the sky, dodging the blow that would have landed on his head.

It wasn't long before the creature quickly soared up into the sky, preventing itself to crash land. The dragon, now under the moonlight, was revealed to be male.

Now that the dragon was identified to be male, the creature went for him for the second time. It came into the moonlight, also revealing the gender of the creature too. It was female. The body structure spoke for itself.

It was a wonder that she was agile. But that didn't phase him the slightest. He kept his golden eyes on the unknown creature, following her every move. He had to immobilize her, take her to the kind human and figure out what she was.

He had to understand her weakness, observe her and find her weak points, understand her strong points. It was rather difficult when it was a creature you have never seen in your life.

He found out how difficult after trying to use his wings and even screech, the creature managing to dodge each attack when he prepared it. As if she knew what he was planning, how much damage he could inflict and how the screech would paralyze her body.

He chased it, trying to use his paws to grab it and even swipe it out of the air. But nothing worked. Which caused him go onto drastic measures.

He had turned his tail into the spear like his brother, Aizetsu, and tried to slash at her. But she one proved to have some form of knowledge of combat skills and dodges.

He stopped when he missed her, flapping his wings to shoot upwards and stopped mid air, flapping them to help keep him in the air and turned around. He had two more moves left before he would give up. After all, she had crossed the borders of his territory.

As soon as he turned around, he noticed how the creature had stared at him. She was also hovering in the air, on the opposite side from where he was hovering. Her pupils, once a sharp oval, now something resembling a sharp kite. Sharp and thin, slitted to focus more.

Like a cat looking into the light. Except, this was no cat. This was a she-wolf humanoid, and one with feathered wings. Not to mention with black markings under her eyes. Not to mention how agile she was.

Quickly turning his tail to a more leaf-like shape, he used it to create powerful winds. As he expected, the creature got blown by the gusts of wind. What he was not expecting was for her to appear out of thin air, in front of him, one arm reeled back and hand in a fist. Her eyes were wide, filled with a burning emotion he knew roo well, thanks to Sekido.

His eyes also widened in shock, and quickly managed to dodge the attack. He sharply turned around, used his hind leg to push her, and closed his dragonic foot around her waist as he pushed her.

Then, he stopped flapping his wings, causing both him and the creature to fall closer to the ground. She made a sharp, startled yelp of surprise before she made harsh contact with the ground

The creature, although scraped from the harsh contact she had made on the ground and the size of a human, was surprisingly strong. She writhed, squirmed and clawed at his paw with surprising flexibility and agility.

He slowly lowered his head at the wriggling creature under his hind leg paw. He sniffed, and froze. To say he was puzzled was underestimated. He was VERY confused.

Her scent was that of a young human cub. But she... looked like an adult? He let his guard down, leaving an opening for her to get out from under his paw and take off.

He was in shock, mind not processing what had happened. It wasn't long before he growled and got onto his hind legs, looked into the air and glared at the moon. He took a step forward and roared at the night sky, wings flared open to show his fury.

--x--

She flew away from the dragon, the threat. She flapped her wings, trying to get away from that dr-

Her pupils slitted as soon as she got a whiff of another dragon. No... Not one dragon. Four scents from four dragons. All of which had strong male scents. Too much testosterone for her liking.

She closed her left wing, going left in time to dodge a large form. It was a feathered dragon with bird talons for paws. She turned her head to look behind her after hearing wings behind her. And she saw a sharp, armed tail go for her head.

She couldn't dodge it fast enough, before it went into her head, right through her skull and brain. Blood splattered everywhere in the air, her body limp and eyes rolled back into her head.

The sharp end held her limp form there, before a paw pushed her off, the sword like tip sliding out of her skull and caused her to limply fall to the ground. Her wings faced the sky, wind whirling past her limp body.

Her limp body plummeted the earth, skidding a and rolling a bit aways from where she hit the soil. Her head now had a hole in it where the sharp tail had sliced in. It was a disturbing scene for many, but for the dragons, it meant that they won.

The purple winged dragon, a lot smaller and younger, walked into the area her body landed. He used a paw to turn her around, seeing the soil cling onto her wound. The flesh that was visible held chunks of dirt.

He grimaced. An unusual thing for the fifth sibling. He watched as each of his brothers landed, or came into view. The red one with black wings, rings and barbs made a soft rumble, clicking as well. He was communicating.

The others joined in, their attention away from the corpse. Or what they had thought was a corpse. When they looked at where the strange creature once was, they saw nothing.

Panic and instinct took over as they all began scanning the premises of their territory. Their panic stopped when they saw her, in a tree and wound gone.

She tilted her head to the side slightly, pupils dilating every so often. What stuck out were the horns, halo with a crown fused in the middle and the black sclera. Black ooze dripped from her eyes like it had an infinite supply.

The other strange thing was how the ooze didn't seem to stain her skin. It was... fascinating and scary at a minimum. Her owl-like gaze boring into them.

Her wings, as fluffy as they were feathery, folded next to her sides comfortably. Her feet had a firm grip on the branch, as well as her claws.

The brothers stared at her, while the smaller stood in front of the four older and much larger dragons. He seemed about ready to protect them from her, no matter what.

" Dragons."

Her voice was could only be described as something out of this world. It was filled with an echo after each word, almost dreadful.

She tilted her head, not even reacting to a sharp snap from her neck. She didn't even blink. Not once. It was like watching a doll being controlled by the child. A puppet forced to do the puppeteer's bidding by a single tug of one of the many strings attached to its body.

" Not like Lunar. No. Very different."

She used some words, as if limiting herself from saying a full sentence or paragraph.

" Bigger and stronger. Male but not female. With abilities unlike her."

She tilted her head to the other side, her word limit terrifying. Like a plague resurfacing. It was undeniably strange and scary.

" Interesting."

" Who or what are you?!"

She moved her golden eyes to gaze at the red eyed dragon, blinking slowly. She was way too calm for a situation like this.

" ..."

Her ears lowered, a shadow casting over her face as she frowned. She redirected her gaze to look at the ground below her.

" I am April Living, Alpha of the failed, experiment #001."

She turned her gaze back at him, her wings shaking slightly as she fluffed them out. But what did she mean by e-

" Sekido, correct?"

" H-"

" SOUL: Determination and hatred, LOVE: 234, ATTACK: 2 000, DEFENSE: ∞, HP: ∞. You are all filled with a part of hate. Except Zohakuten."

She looked at his shocked face.

" You are filled to the brim with hate."

They were all shocked. How did she know both of their names?! And how was she still alive?!

" I feel like we'll all get along quite quickly."

For anyone that is confused, this is my Undertale oc: April. She is an experiment, and is the first one to have ever been successful. She was once human, but turned into a wolf creature because of a magical liquid.

#demon slayer #hantengu clones dragon au #dragon hantengu clones au #hantengu #sekido #urogi #aizetsu #karaku #angry oc with a hatred for humans #zohakuten #undertale oc

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headaching · 3 years

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more titanic au?? 👀

Azula scrutinized Sokka with squinted eyes causing uneasiness flashed across his face. “For the record,” she jeered, “next time you want to stage an accidental falling, maybe keep your boots and jacket on.”

Sokka shot a panicked look at Zuko, who only shook his head. Sokka sputtered, “We…We were…”

“You don’t have to answer to her,” Zuko told Sokka apologetically.

“I don’t really care,” Azula snapped. “In fact, I think it’s sweet you made a friend.” Zuko crossed his arms over his chest. He didn’t dare look at Sokka. “I’m just saying, you might want to get your story straight.” She winked at Zuko before turning on her heel. Zuko’s blush was furious and so quick it sickened him. For that, he was thankful Sokka stood behind him. “Are you coming?”

“Leave without me,” Zuko growled, and she cocked her head in his direction.

“What if you get lost on the way there, and there isn’t a third-class passenger to guide you back?” Azula’s voice was both sharp and cold, cutting and dull.

Zuko conjured his most menacing tone and said, “Azula, stop talking. Leave. Now.” Slowly, Azula’s head straightened, and she walked away without a word. Zuko watched her go, slightly impressed with himself.

When Zuko turned back to face Sokka, he was lacing up his boots. “I’m sorry about her,” Zuko apologized, and Sokka looked up from his shoes to grin at him.

“Don’t worry about it,” Sokka said as he finished tying his laces. On went his jacket, and he turned toward the water while he adjusted it. His gaze remained on the ocean as he leaned his elbows against the railing. “I’d like to see you tomorrow,” Sokka announced, not a demand, but a wish. Zuko approached Sokka, though he maintained a good distance from the ledge.

“You will, at dinner,” Zuko replied, and noticed his own rapid blinking. Sokka shot him a playful look over his shoulder, then turned around and occupied the remaining space between them.

He stood an inch or two taller than Zuko, and his head bowed forward. Though Zuko’s head tilted upward, he was only brave enough to stare at Sokka’s lips, which were full and soft-looking and slightly parted.

“I meant besides dinner.” This was the closest they’d been face to face without the impending threat of treacherous death, and the air seemed harder to take in because of it. “It’s okay if you don’t want to,” Sokka added, and Zuko noted a hint of nervousness in his voice.

“No,” Zuko croaked, “I do.”

Sokka smiled. “Okay. Meet me here tomorrow, say, two o’clock?”

“Sure.”

“It’s a date.” Sokka’s voice was quiet, but it rang through Zuko’s ears and spiked his blood, churning it hot through his veins.

As Sokka turned to leave, Zuko found himself saying, “Sokka, wait,” with an outstretched hand. It suspended in the air with his index finger pointed at Sokka’s chest. Sokka’s eyes darted from Zuko’s hand to his eyes inquisitively. Zuko straightened his fingers to offer Sokka a handshake.

“Thank you for saving my life,” Zuko said formally with a stiff nod. Sokka laughed, and a few strands of hair fell around his temples. For an isolating moment, Zuko felt like an idiot, until Sokka’s hand closed around his. They shook hands with a firm grip, and it seemed to last longer than a usual handshake.

“Thank you for not jumping,” Sokka murmured, and stilled their hands, but didn’t pull away. The fingers on Sokka’s opposite hand caressed Zuko’s wrist, and Zuko tried to remember if he’d ever been touched so gently.

Eventually, Sokka stepped back, and their hold was broken. He slipped his hands into his pockets and eyed Zuko, then exhaled through his nose in a quick laugh.

“Is something funny?” Zuko asked reflexively, then cleared his throat at the sound of his raspy voice.

“Maybe.”

“Maybe?”

“Do you always have to know all the answers?” Sokka teased, and Zuko crossed his arms. Sokka had no idea how few answers Zuko actually received, or how long ago he gave up the pursuit of seeking them.

Zuko couldn’t manage a response. He realized he was shivering; he must have left his coat on his chair at dinner. Sokka noticed, too, and questioned, “Are you cold?” He didn’t wait for Zuko to answer before taking his jacket off.

“No, I don’t need—” Zuko began to protest through chattering teeth, but was interrupted by Sokka draping his jacket across his trembling shoulders.

“You’re shaking,” Sokka dismissed quietly, practically affectionate. He pulled the opening of the jacket closer together in an attempt to insulate Zuko, then placed both hands over his crossed arms when they were exposed to the cold air despite the effort.

As Zuko watched carefully, Sokka unfolded his arms and brought Zuko’s clenched fists to his mouth. Sokka exhaled a heated breath onto Zuko’s hands, while his own drifted down to cup Zuko’s elbows. Their eyes met, honey and pale blue, and neither averted their gaze.

Zuko imagined breaking one hand free to caress Sokka’s cheek, and when Sokka’s lower lip just barely brushed against his finger, the fantasy morphed into one where they were kissing.

Zuko’s heart raced at the possibility of gliding his fingers along Sokka’s toned bare arms, the nape of his neck, the sharp angle of his jaw. Maybe Sokka’s hands would hold Zuko’s waist, draw him in, entice him to step closer. Sokka’s jacket might plummet to the deck floor if their hands were frantic, or stay perfectly in place if the embrace was slow and peaceful.

Though Zuko had little romantic experience, the image of kissing Sokka was easy, dangerously so, and the possibilities were endless.

“Zuko?” brought him back to reality, where Sokka’s hands had shifted. Sokka seemed to be holding him in place with a firm grip and one foot braced forward. Zuko blinked and noticed his fingers had fallen from their clenched position to grip Sokka’s forearms. He considered pulling away, but stayed still.

“I’m sorry. W-What happened?” Zuko’s face was smoldering, and he desperately wished to conceal it.

“You checked out for a second, then seemed like you were gonna fall,” Sokka explained, and though he sounded concerned, Zuko detected a smirk on his face.

“Oh,” Zuko mumbled, and looked away pointedly.

“Seriously, are you okay?” Sokka asked, the happy traces in his face replaced with worry. Zuko sighed, inwardly cursing his inability to play anything cool. “I mean, you just had a near death experience. Of course you’re not okay.”

“That wasn't my first near death experience,” Zuko replied before thinking better of it. His throat constricted when Sokka’s eyes flickered to his scar, but he found solace in the gentle squeeze Sokka gave his arms. Sokka looked down and nodded slowly. “I’m just clumsy, like Azula said,” Zuko added, gratefully getting him to crack a smile.

“I’d hesitate to take anything she says to heart,” Sokka laughed, and Zuko breathed a silent sigh of relief. Sokka stared at him for a moment with a twinkle of amusement still in his eyes, then said, “Maybe I should walk you back, though. You seem out of it.”

“You have no frame of reference,” Zuko retorted, and though his voice was agitated, Sokka took a small step forward, somehow still possible with their close proximity.

“Not yet.” His reply was an easy, clear indication that he intended to find out. Zuko focused on the dreaded task of evening his breath, but his mind inevitably wandered to their hold on one another and how it still had not ended.

“Not yet, but not tonight,” Zuko said eventually, as gently as he could. “My father will be expecting me soon.” Sokka nodded, and glanced at their arms pointedly, then back into Zuko’s eyes with raised eyebrows. “I can walk myself,” Zuko scoffed with an eye roll. He took the opportunity to remove Sokka’s jacket, but a firm hand halted his own.

“Keep it,” he insisted, and Zuko shook his head.

“I don’t need your jacket,” Zuko responded stubbornly, but drew the garment closer together in an attempt to disguise his shivering.

Sokka’s eyes glanced down, and somehow, the grin that spread across his face left Zuko wishing he could disappear and never leave Sokka’s sight all at once. “You contradict yourself a lot,” Sokka noted. Zuko decided disappearing would be better.

“And you’re infuriating,” Zuko muttered, his eyes on the deck.

“Is that any way to thank a kind stranger for his hospitality?” Sokka teased, and Zuko brushed past him with a hard jab of his elbow.

“Thanks,” Zuko said sarcastically.

He grinned to himself when Sokka yelped, “Ow!” followed by an airy laugh. When Zuko reached the gate, he glanced over his shoulder past the fabric of Sokka’s jacket to give him a smug smile. Sokka’s laugh faded into a closed-mouth dreamy grin complete with squinted, glistening eyes, and for that Zuko’s nerve was almost wasted.

“You’re not a stranger anymore,” Zuko said quietly, unfamiliar with the flirtatiousness of his voice. Sokka’s face fell, but with a focus that made Zuko wish he could read his mind. “Goodnight, Sokka,” he mumbled and turned away before Sokka could notice any further blushing.

“Goodnight, Zuko,” Sokka called after him. “See you tomorrow.” It was much quieter, and so light Zuko wondered if the wind had tricked him. Before leaving the gate, Zuko stole one more look to find Sokka splayed across a bench with his hands padding the back of his head. He looked up at the stars with a peaceful grin.

After watching Sokka longer than Zuko would have cared to admit, he finally left the deck. As he entered the interior of the ship, the warmth of whirlwind excitement began to fade. The farther he got from Sokka, the more he wanted to turn around, occupy the space next to him on the bench, and outstretch luxuriously with his palms resting under his head. How simple it would have been, to watch the stars.

To be free.

send me the title of a wip for an excerpt!

#thank you anon mwah mwah #zukka #zukka titanic au #zuko #sokka #azula #zukka fic #becks #my work #asks #anon

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hotdamnhunnam · 3 years

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Take All That Anger Out on Me

A/N: Here’s the first requested fic from the ‘Super Kinky’ list for my Dirty Little Secret series!!! (I’ll be alternating these super kinky fics with the ‘Somewhat Filthy’ fics.) **Please note the warnings: This fic is all about the kinks, please do not read if this is not your thing!!**

Pairing: Jax Teller x F!Reader Warnings: smut, swearing, dirty talk, intense degradation, Jax is raging and seriously roughs you up ‘cause you beg him to let all his anger out (slaps your face, spits on your face and in your mouth) Request: Request from @rayslittlekitten (in comments under this post) + anon request

Word Count: ~2k

Note: As explained in this post, this ‘Dirty Little Secret’ series consists of fics that I had originally written for another character/celebrity, which I’m repurposing for characters of Charlie! So if the characterization ever seems a little off, please don’t judge me too harshly 🙂

**Please note warnings above**

Triggering content after ‘Keep reading’ cut…

***************

It's past 2 A.M. when he finally gets home, storming into the living room, the front door swinging loud and hard behind him as he slams it closed.

You jump up off the couch immediately, tingling as you sense the red hot rage that's radiating from his body, from that drop-dead gorgeous head down to his toes. It fills you with the urge to rip off all his fucking clothes. Worship the sculpted muscles underneath his shirt and kutte... just eat him up... But you're not sure if Jax is in the mood to use you as his slut, right now when he is clearly furious about whatever happened on today's job. So you try to keep your mouth closed. Stay composed.

But then he heads into the kitchen, and you can't resist the urge to ask a question, as you follow. "How'd it go...?"

"Don't ask," Jax grumbles in a low rasp, as he tosses his gun down onto the table, moving toward the fridge to grab himself a beer. He doesn't even bother looking back at you at all, let alone stop to say hello. Just moves across the room like you're not even here. "You don't wanna know."

Some twisted part of you loves it when he gets so rude. He’s in one of those moods, and it shows, and the one thing you do know... is just how the rest of the night's gonna go.

You don't wanna know, he had said. You protest, knowing that will provoke him best, bring all that smoldering rage to the surface and make him go mad.

And you want that. So bad.

He says it again, like he's reading the thoughts in your head. "Trust me, Y/N, you don't wanna fucking know."

"I do, though—"

"I said don't," your man repeats, casting a glance in your direction, for a split second, piercing blue glare burning your skin off with the heat. And then he turns his back to you again, muttering something as he grabs the drink he needs. You're not sure if he wanted you to hear it. But you did. "Stupid bitch."

... Well, shit. Those degrading words off of his lips just made your pussy twitch. You squirm and cross your arms over your tits, nipples suddenly stiff, through the thin cloth of your pajama top. His back is toward you at the moment so he doesn't really notice. You pretend to just be miffed, although the truth is that you’re thirsty for this man to fuck you up. "Okay, somebody's got his boxers in a twist..."

Jax takes a deep swig of his drink. Then sets it down, and slowly turns around. "You shut your mouth," he growls out loud, the dark edge in his tone depriving you of all ability to think.

A sheen of liquor glistens on his lower lip; he flicks his tongue out, takes a lick and then bites down hard on the soft pink flesh. Surveys the skimpy PJs you’ve got on, the lacy fabric of the bottoms, hanging low upon your hips... his gaze descends down to your crotch before sliding across your chest... Then up your neck to linger on your mouth and make you melt, as if he knows you're desperate to use that dirty mouth to just untwist his boxers yourself.

And damn are they in a tight twist. He talks down at you in a mean, menacing hiss. "Thought you'd know better than to get sassy like this when I'm already fucking pissed."

Every word he utters, in that husky voice of his, gets you all hot and bothered, hits you like a goddamn bomb exploding on your clit. Taking a few steps toward this sex god motherfucker, you uncross your arms and set your hands upon your hips. At this point all your dignity has been eclipsed, desire coming through, and you don't care if he can see your tits—you don't doubt it. In fact you want him to, if this suggestive shift in energy is signaling that he might want to do something about it.

So you respond accordingly: with a provocative reply to make it clear that you are quite painfully horny. "Well, I guess I don't know shit. I'm just a stupid little bitch."

At that, a shadow of a smirk flickers across his luscious lips. "Oh, now you're asking for it..."

"Begging. Please," you answer, wet with need, unable to hold back the nasty slut inside of you that has to be released. Undoubtedly. "Take all that anger out on me."

Towering over you so tall and powerful, so big and strong and beautiful, those eyes so blue and hair so blonde... he bites his tongue and pauses just a fraction of a second. Ocean eyes exploring yours, to make sure that you know just what you're in for. That it's what you really want. That you're ready and eager for whatever rough and dirty sex Jax Teller has in store.

And of course you fucking are. Without wasting a second more, he lunges forward, like an animal pinning you to the floor—the kitchen table, let alone the bed or any better surface that may be available, is way too fucking far—hovering over you on all fours, groaning in sadistic pleasure as you happily surrender to his force, grinding his hips hard into yours, until you're moaning like a whore.

"This what you wanted, bitch?" he devilishly teases, razor edges of his teeth grazing your trembling bottom lip as he gets off on just how bad you fucking need this. Scratching your every last itch. His ruthless hands tear off your flimsy top, groping and pawing at your tits. "Yeah, 'course it is. You kinky little piece of shit."

"F-fuck...!" you scream, turned on beyond belief. His brutal dominance is everything you’ve ever dreamed; the filthy whore inside you instantly reacts, as he attacks. "Fuck, Jax..."

"Told you to shut your goddamn mouth," he grunts, one hand reaching to rip right through your panties so that he can plunge two fingers deep inside your dripping cunt, pumping violently in and out. As his thumb flicks against your slick sensitive clit, he clamps his other hand across your gasping lips, your skin on fire beneath his fingertips. "So keep it shut. You filthy fucking slut."

Oh God, oh Goddd, he is so motherfucking hot. By now you are incapable of any other thought. The palm of his strong, calloused hand is so big that he easily smothers your whole snout and stifles your breathing. And you love the feeling, the heaven of staring up into his blazing blue gaze as he cuts off your airways, of sinking straight into the ultimate subspace... your mind is so blown you've forgotten your own fucking name.

Yet still you know you will remember his, always. Your world revolves around Jax Teller... you live only for his pleasure, now and forever, all day every day... you truly love it when he treats you like a worthless piece of shit. You have no shame.

Despite your consciousness being shattered to bits, somehow you're nonetheless aware that you just came.

"Ugh, look at you," he snarls, pulling his soaked fingers out of your pulsating slit, sticking them in your mouth to make you taste yourself just as he loves to do. Your juices have gushed out all over the floor, and his hands, and his pants, and the whole goddamn world. "Such a dirty girl. Squirting all over my kutte. Did I say you could cum, you dumb slut?"

No, he most definitely did not...

"You're disgusting," he snaps, pulling his hand off of your mouth at last, only to deal your cheek a sudden savage slap. Your inner slut is blissfully combusting. You're so weak and he's so strong. And then he holds your breathless mouth wide open with his thumbs... hocks up a thick wet wad of spit, and puckers up his slick pink lips, to shoot it straight onto your tongue. "Good-for-nothing scum."

By now you're so turned on that you've gone numb.

Jax spits on you again, and again, down your throat and all over your forehead and chin, humiliating you with laughter as he smacks your cheeks repeatedly and rubs his palm across your face to spread his spit around till every inch is fucking glazed. Sending you deeper into subspace.

Your pussy convulses in shameless disgrace, clenching tight around nothing, set to come undone again just from the sheer power of his fucking perfection. From the friction of his raging hard erection, through his jeans against your bare skin, the sensation of pure sin, his rough hands and ravenous mouth dominating and degrading you in all possible ways.

"You like being my dirty little punching bag?" he taunts, as if he has to ask; it's obviously everything you want. To be a damn fucktoy for Jax. He swiftly flips you over then, all of a sudden, to begin smacking your ass. "You want this big fat dick deep in your cunt? Mmm, know you do, slut. Gonna have to beg for that."

You try to beg, instinctively spreading your legs, desperate for fifty shades of filthy sex, as you sprawl out for him facedown upon the ground. And yet given the state you're in right now, somehow. you can't manage a sound.

He spanks your ass raw, as you squirm and struggle from beneath, gritting your teeth, striving to speak, wasted and weak, gaping your mouth so wide you'll probably break your fucking jaw. Still not a word comes out—nothing but choked whimpers and gasps for air, as his dominant fingers grab a fistful of your hair, lifting your head and tilting it toward him just to spit in your mouth, yet again and then slamming your head right back down. God, you love how he's letting his inner beast out and just going to town.

You quiver in bliss as you grovel in a puddle of his spit, the floor tiles pressed against your tits, high on the way he beats you like a low-down piece of shit. It's all you are to him at times like this. Overcome with arousal and unable to control yourself at all, your pussy aching as it drips, you start cumming again at the next words off of his lips. "You're such a stupid... fucking... bitch."

You squirt even harder this time around. Feels like you've drowned.

Jax deals your ass a final stinging spank, then twines his fingers in your messy hair again, forcing your head up off the ground with an aggressive yank. "Dumb fucking skank. See, I was gonna fuck that cunt tonight—stuff you full of this big dick until I cum inside, then fuck your throat and let you drink it all up—every goddamn drop, you dirty little slut... but you know what? You don't deserve it. Not when you've been such a pathetic piece of shit."

He blesses you with one more smack across the face, and one more shot of his sweet spit, laughing as you soak in the feel and the taste of such total disgrace.

Ughh, he is so fucking hot... he's an actual sex god... you think, as he throws you back down to the ground, letting you drown, lost in the pure filth of your perfectly satisfied kinks.

"So now you know what happens when I'm fucking pissed," Jax says, gloating at how you groan in bliss, letting your loving gaze worship his flawless face. "Next time you disobey, and piss me off like that, I'm gonna take out all my anger even harder on your sorry ass and make it hurt real bad. You got that, bitch?"

Oh God, fuck, yes. He's such a savage. To be honest, you just hope that is a promise...

And from the way he's smirking down at you like this, dirty and devilish—giving off such a dangerous dominance that's so fucking delicious—set to satisfy your deepest darkest wishes... you can tell that it most definitely is.

***************

... Sooo that was super filthy and I know Jax is an absolute asshole in this lol but I hope there are some kinky bitches who enjoyed it, and would love to hear if you did!! 😅❤️

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fanficshiddles · 3 years

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Tear You To Pieces, Chapter 8

Kelly was almost sick when she saw a pile of bodies right by the front doors of the tower. But when she got closer, she realised it wasn’t just any pile of bodies. It was a statement.

Natasha, Clint, Tony, Pepper, Fury and Bruce. Along with some other SHIELD agents.

‘Oh god, no!’ She sobbed and took a step backwards, her entire body was shaking in fear.

She looked up at the tower and suddenly dread flooded all through her. Her sister…

‘MARIA!’ She screamed and ran into the tower, past the pile of bodies.

The lifts were all broken, the electricity not working anymore. She ran as fast as she could up the stairs, taking three at a time where possible. She was out of breath and her legs burned in agony, but she couldn’t stop. She needed to try and reach her before he did.

Even if it was eerily quiet now, except for the sounds of sirens outside the tower…

She passed some more bodies in the stairwell, it broke her heart with each one she passed. The guilt was horrible, building up within her. She couldn’t believe she had been so foolish and trusted him, believed that he had changed.

Anger rushed through her as well as sadness and guilt, but she needed to concentrate and just find Maria. But when she finally got to the top floor, she went straight to the control room where her sister normally was. There was no sign of her. Just some dead bodies hunched over the controls…

After checking her room, still she had no luck. The corridors and rooms were all falling apart. Holes in the walls and roof, lightings and wires hanging out everywhere, the place was a complete mess.

Rushing into the common room, the cold wind breezed in and made her shiver. The large glass windows were all shattered, leaving no protection from the cold.

She felt a lump in her throat when she saw Steve lying dead, his costume torn. His shield was nowhere to be seen. Loki had killed the Avengers…

About to crouch down to Steve, she noticed another body a bit further away. And she let out a wail and a cry, it was her sister.

Slowly, she walked over towards Maria’s body. ‘No, no, no, no.’ She cried as she fell to her knees beside her. She leaned over her sister and tried shaking her shoulders, but there was a huge blow to her head and her eyes were open. She was cold, so cold…

‘NO!’ Kelly screamed as she then pressed her face into Maria’s chest, utterly broken. ‘I’m sorry… I’m so sorry. This is all my fault.’ She sobbed into her.

While mourning her sister, she failed to hear Loki coming into the room, cracking bits of glass under his boots.

‘You shouldn’t be here, pet.’ Loki hummed low as he strolled across the room towards her.

She gasped when she saw Loki, and as much as she wanted to cower away from him and run, she didn’t want to leave her sister’s body either. She leaned over her sister more, tears still falling down her face. ‘You… you MONSTER! WHY? Why would you do... THIS?’ She yelled at him bravely, or perhaps foolishly.

Loki smirked as he stepped over Steve’s body without so much as a thought as he continued towards the mortal girl.

‘You should be kneeling before me, thanking me for sparing you.’ He hissed at her, drawing ever closer to her, unhurriedly, but with purpose with his large strides.

She shook her head quickly. ‘No… no! I could never thank you. You used me!’ She screamed at him.

He chuckled darkly. ‘Oh no, I’ve not even begun to use you yet. There is still something you’ve been keeping from me.’

Loki was just a few feet away from her now, with the most menacing look on his face that she had ever seen. It chilled her to the core. She knew she needed to run, she couldn’t let him reach her.

Looking down longingly at her sister for the last time, she scrambled to her feet and attempted to run.

Loki laughed at her. ‘Oh, pet. I thought you’d know by now how much I love to play.’ He growled.

Kelly ran towards the lift, forgetting it was broken. She pushed the buttons in a panic as Loki leisurely strolled towards her, unhurried and looking incredibly menacing with the biggest grin on his face.

Deciding on a different tactic, she made a run back to the stairwell door, doing a big circle past Loki as she most definitely didn’t want to end up anywhere near him.

She heard Loki chuckling darkly as she was almost there, but then suddenly he appeared right on front of her. Blocking her way out. She skidded to a halt, not wanting to run right into him. She backed away, then turned to run but another Loki appeared.

Then another, and another... Until she was surrounded by seven Loki’s, leaving her nowhere else to run. She cried out in fear and fell down to her knees, tucking her head into her arms she cried and prayed that it was all just a horrible nightmare. That she would wake up at any moment and everything would be fine…

‘Kneeling for me already, what a good girl.’ Loki teased as his clones vanished and he approached her.

He reached down and slid his fingers through her hair, seeing her visibly tremble under his touch. Both in fear and still some arousal, he could easily tell. His gentle touch turned rough as he gripped her hair and pulled her head back, so she was forced to look up at him through teary eyes.

‘Aww, come now, pet. It’s me, you don’t need to fear me…’ He hummed and slid his hand down to stroke her cheek softly. ‘Unless you misbehave and are naughty. So, be a good girl and do as you’re told, won’t you?’

Kelly’s lower lip quivered as she hesitantly nodded, not wanting to anger him. She knew his strength and power, that it was pointless to even try and get away from him.

‘Good girl, now get your pretty little ass over to the sofa and get on your hands and knees, bum facing outwards to me.’ He demanded and tilted his head in the direction of said sofa.

Her eyes widened, she didn’t make a move until Loki raised an eyebrow at her, waiting for her to do as she was told. Not wanting to risk it, she got up on wobbly legs and made her way there. She was barely at the sofa when Loki pushed her down onto it, hurrying her up.

‘We don’t have all day, pet. So don’t waste my time.’ He snarled at her as she tried to get into the position he wanted.

She let out a sob when he grabbed the top of her leggings and yanked them down along with her knickers, down around her thighs.

‘Ohhh, yes. Finally, I will get to claim what is rightfully mine. What you’ve been keeping from me all this time.’ He cooed and, with a surprisingly gentle touch, he caressed her bum first for a moment and then his fingers began to get dangerously close to her cunt.

‘Ple… please, don’t.’ She whimpered as she closed her eyes and hung her head down.

‘No amount of begging will help, pet. I should have taken you a long time ago.’ He said low as he slid his fingers through her folds.

Kelly felt sick at what he was about to do, she had thought and hoped that Loki would be her first time… But not like this, not in this way. Not this Loki.

She was nauseated at herself when she felt her body betraying her from the way his fingers were skilfully sliding up and down, rubbing over her clit that was getting more and more sensitive with every second that passed.

‘Ooo, I think you want this more than you want to admit.’ Loki chuckled. ‘You’re already getting wet, and I’ve barely even begun.’

Loki slid a finger down to her tight opening and he had just started to slowly push into her, making her whine in disagreement, when there was a loud whirring noise from outside. He looked over through the what once was a large window, to see a space ship pulling up outside.

It was some more heroes that had come to try and take down Loki. Kelly felt relief flood through her. But at the same time, more dread. As she knew if The Avengers hadn’t been able to beat him, how could anyone else do it?

Loki snarled angrily at the interruption. He looked down at Kelly, who was still shaking from head to toe and jumping at every little noise from the other heroes that were coming into the building. With a sigh, Loki hauled her up to her feet.

‘I am going to send you to safety, far from here. But you stay exactly where I put you… Because we are far from done here.’ He growled into her ear in warning and narrowed his eyes at her momentarily, then he teleported her away to safety, before going to deal with the low life heroes that had ruined his moment.

Kelly let out a yelp as she landed on a hard wooden floor on her bare bum, her leggings and knickers were still down around her thighs. She looked around in alarm, but was slightly relieved to see she was somewhere safe, it was a hotel room.

After getting up and pulling her leggings back up, she rushed over to the window, her eyes widened when she saw London Bridge right outside. Loki really had sent her far away…

But she quickly got her brain working and focusing, there was no way in hell she was going to hang around and wait for him to come get her, to rape her. So she bolted out of the room as quickly as possible, surprised that there was no spell on the door, but highly relieved.

No one cared about her leaving the hotel, the receptionist and everyone else was too busy concentrating on the news with what was going on in New York. But Kelly couldn’t bear to look at the TV, so she ran away, as fast as she possibly could out onto the streets of London.

Loki wiped out the second wave of so-called heroes with terrifying ease.

He had the biggest, most wicked grin on his face as he was surrounded by their bodies. The power was surging through him, adrenaline running high. It was the best feeling in the Universe. And he was loving every single second of it.

But this was only the beginning.

Before getting the whole of New York to bow to him, he had something else he needed to deal with first.

Kelly Hill.

He teleported to the hotel room in London where he had placed her. When he arrived in the room, he was displeased to see the bed had not even been sat on. He marched over to the bathroom and flung the door wide open, but she wasn’t there.

Roaring in anger, he stormed out of the room and flung every single door wide open as he passed, shouting her name as he walked down the corridor, causing other poor residents to scream and cower in their rooms in fear. Relief flooding them when he walked on by.

Everyone in the world knew of what he’d done in New York to the Avengers. It was all over the news and in special alerts to everyone’s smartphones.

The receptionist downstairs almost fainted in fear when Loki, enraged, approached her.

‘Room 504. Where is she?’ He snarled at her.

‘I… I… I don’t know… There… was no one… in that room… it’s empty.’ The woman blurted out quickly, shaking from head to toe.

Loki’s nose scrunched up and the vein in his neck was close to bursting as he angrily yelled out and his telekinesis exploded, causing glass to shatter and furniture to fly everywhere. Injuring a few mortals, not that he really cared as he stormed out of the hotel.

He glared up and down the road, but there was no sign of Kelly at all.

#Loki #Tom Hiddleston #villain Loki #dark Loki #Loki x OFC #Loki x original female character #fan fiction #tear you to pieces #Loki Laufeyson

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helnjk · 3 years

Text

Bad Idea - F.W.

Fred Weasley x fem!reader

Merry Christmas to everyone who celebrates 🤍 Wishing everyone a wonderful holiday season & new year 🧚🏼‍♀️

this is the first installment of my showtunes fic list, based on the song bad idea from the musical waitress !

Summary: fred weasley has the ability to get under her skin in a way no one else can. he also sends butterflies straight to her stomach like no one else can.

Word Count: 4.1k

Warnings: enemies to lovers, slight cursing, steamy scenes but no outright smut

song lyrics are bolded & italicized

It’s a bad idea me and you

Y/N rolled her eyes as the Weasley twins made something or other explode at the Gryffindor table at breakfast. The awed cheers and whispers of her schoolmates at the colorful display of miniature fireworks did nothing to sway her opinion on the irritating duo. In fact, it might have even made her dislike for them grow.

It wasn’t as if she had no basis for hating the pair of them. They had been nothing but rude to her since their first year, and she was sure it was mostly due to her adorning the green and silver crest on her school robes. She had been at the receiving end of their nasty pranks more than she liked to admit, and some of them weren’t even a sliver funny.

As if he practiced legilimency, the older twin’s eyes moved from his showy display of spellwork to hers and sent a subtle wink in Y/N’s way.

“Like what you see, Y/L/N?” Fred yelled across the hall, causing the onlookers to turn their heads in her direction.

Angrily, she felt heat flood her cheeks, “Not at all Weasley. Just wondering how many points I could take away from Gryffindor today.”

She heard the members of her table snickering quietly at the sound of points lost for their least favorite house, but she paid them no mind. In all honesty, she knew that no amount of points taken away would sway the Weasley twins from their mischief making.

Later in the day while Y/N made her way from her last class to the library to catch up on some coursework, she heard the familiar snickers of the two boys she wanted to interact with the least.

“Oi! Watch where you’re going!” She yelled, annoyance bubbling in the pit of her stomach as the redheaded menaces rushed past her and nearly knocked her over.

“Going to take some more points from Gryffindor, Y/L/N?” Fred taunted over his shoulder as his brother let out a huff of laughter.

“Well, it’s not like she has any other important things taking up her time, don’t you think Freddie?” George said.

“You are absolutely right, George.” He replied.

“Honestly, don’t you two have anything better to do than get on my nerves all the time?” She gritted out.

The twins slowed their pace and Fred turned around casually to wink at her, “No can do, love.”

“Don’t call me love!”

Their raucous laughter echoed across the hall as she pushed past them in a huff. Stupid redheaded twins. Stupid Fred with his stupid teasing. Stupid George for laughing and egging him on.

Something about the way she determinedly called out over her shoulder made Fred pause.

Her eyes caught the fading light that streamed through the windows of the hallway, and shone brightly. Her skin seemed to glow in the amber light, reflecting the sun as it set in the horizon. The way she moved so confidently as she weaved through the sea of students made heads turn, and Fred was beginning to understand why their gaze gravitated towards her.

He had never noticed how pretty Y/N had gotten over the years. Another pause. Did he find her pretty?

Yeah, pretty annoying. He tried to reason with himself, but still he couldn’t shake this new feeling.

For the rest of the week, Fred had decided that if he couldn’t get her out of his mind, he would simply have to make sure he was on hers as well. Whenever the two of them walked past each other in the halls, he always had some sort of cheeky remark up his sleeve.

Subtly, he would get close enough for their shoulders to brush and would mutter under his breath, just enough for her to hear.

“Looking good today, Y/L/N, such a shame you’re a snake.”

“What’s a lad got to do to take a pretty prefect like you out on a date?”

“Cat’s got your tongue, Y/L/N? I know it’s ‘cause you think I look right fit, you don’t have to say anything.”

The more she ignored his comments, the more it seemed to spur him on. She would catch him sending her flirtatious winks during meals, feel his gaze on hers in their shared classes, or hear him whisper something or other to his twin while he glanced in her direction.

If it wasn’t something he said, he would manage to send practically every kind of prank her way. Tripping jinxes, jelly-legs jinxes, dung bombs in classrooms she was about to enter, puking pastilles or nosebleed nougats slipped into her drinks.

It was getting to a point that Y/N grew frustrated and angry all day. Her friends tended to avoid her when she got this way because she would just repeat the same things over and over again to anyone who would bother to listen.

Fred Weasley was a massive arse. Fred Weasley could jump in the lake and be used as food for the Giant Squid for all she cared. Fred Weasley this and Fred Weasley that.

They had even once asked her why it was specifically him that she complained about and not just the Weasley twins in general.

“Well, both of them do irritate me to no end,” She explained, “But there’s just something about Fred that irks the hell out of me. Merlin, does he know how to push my buttons!”

Y/N didn’t know what it was about Fred that got her going. It might have been because he was the instigator of most of the twins’ pranks, that he acted first and thought of the consequences later. It might have been that he would purposely send bludgers her way whenever Slytherin played Gryffindor and the many bruises that came from it.

It might have been the little flutters she would get whenever he whispered something cheeky into her ear. But that last one she had a hard time admitting to even herself.

By the end of the week, Y/N was at her wits end. Every time the bell rang and she gathered up her things, her hand would clutch her wand, ready to put up a small shield charm or send a hex in the direction of a certain redhead.

It being the weekend, many of her fellow classmates rushed out the door the moment they were dismissed from class. Y/N took her time packing her things back up, as her only plans for the night were to catch up on one of the novels she had had no time to read recently. As she exited the classroom, her eyes scanned the bare hallway for any sign of Fred. Her suspicions rose when she began her walk back to her common room and nothing out of the ordinary happened.

She soon stood corrected as a flash of red hair danced in her vision and she was suddenly pressed up against a wall.

With a gasp she said, “Weasley? What in Merlin’s name are you–”

“Can’t be quiet for a second, can you, Y/N?” Fred teased, his lips skimming the shell of her ear and sending shivers down her spine.

She gulped at the proximity of their bodies, her eyes darting around the empty hallway for any onlookers.

“Get on with whatever this is then,” She breathed, trying to keep her nonchalant act up, “I have other plans for tonight that I’d rather be doing.”

A slow chuckle escaped Fred’s lips, causing her heart to beat even more erratically than she thought possible, “So impatient love.”

“And I told you not to call me ‘love’.”

His eyes darted quickly to her lips and she could only hope that he couldn’t feel just how fast her heart was beating, “I’m going to kiss you now.”

He waited for her to give him any sign of discomfort or to say no, but she merely glanced at his lips and back up at his warm brown eyes. Then, as quickly as he had appeared in front of her, his head dipped and he captured her lips in his.

Y/N felt all the breath in her body leave as Fred pressed the searing kiss on her lips. He was intoxicating, his smell, the feel of his skin as she gripped onto his strong biceps, the way his breath mingled with hers.

When they broke apart, his eyes trailed the length of her body in a way that made goosebumps rise from her flesh. Y/N thought she must have looked like a fish out of water, mouth slightly agape and eyes wide.

“Just a taste of what could be.” He winked at her and then turned on his heel, “Think about it, Y/L/N.”

Far longer than she would like to admit, Y/N stayed rooted on the spot, staring in the direction that Fred Weasley had disappeared in and fingers running along the lips that he had claimed.

Heart keep racing Let’s make mistakes

The adrenaline pumping through Y/N’s veins gave her a feeling of weightlessness and grounding at the same time. Being Slytherin’s best beater came with the responsibility of carrying most of the game and she played her role well. Still, she always made it a point to play fair and to compensate for the shitty sportsmanship the rest of her team subscribed to.

When she had spotted a bludger to her right, making its way to where Malfoy was slowly circling, she set off. With a strong swing of her bat, she had it hurtling in the direction of one of the Gryffindor chasers. Neither of the Weasley twins was able to make it in time and the ball scraped the unassuming chaser’s shoulder.

With the boost of confidence this gave her, she proceeded to play one of the best matches of the season. A triumphant grin etched its way onto her face at the frustration leaking from the Weasley twins, who were trying to keep up with her and her co-beater’s synchronization.

Though, she had to admit that the way Fred’s arms flexed and his grunts of exertion every time he did manage to hit the bludger were a tad bit distracting too. The cheeky winks he sent her way weren’t helping either.

“Feeling a bit tired, Weasley?” She teased when he began to hover close to her, “Can’t keep up?”

“In your dreams, Y/L/N!” He all but growled and the fire in his eyes made her heart stutter for just a second before she set off in pursuit of another bludger.

The game had ended when Malfoy caught the snitch, a feat especially when Gryffindor had Potter, and Slytherin had won.

She couldn’t help but feel a smug sense of pride as she and the rest of the team walked out of the pitch, hearing the cheers of her house at the stands. She took her time in the changing rooms, trying to still her erratically beating heart. Her teammates slowly trickled out, reminding her of the celebrations that were definitely going to happen in the common room.

When she heard footsteps approaching the tent just as she had finished stuffing everything in her bag, she had just assumed that one of her teammates had forgotten something. She stood corrected.

“Quite a game today, wouldn’t you say?”

The familiar baritone voice made Y/N pause. Without turning to face him, she said in reply, “Definitely, Weasley. It’s always nice to kick your sorry arse out on the pitch.”

“Now, now Y/N,” He drawled, his voice inching closer to where she stood rooted on the spot. Her hand gripped at the strap of her bag as she tried to think of an escape route, “That’s definitely not the context I imagined you’d be talking about when you first mentioned my arse.”

She let out a scoff at his insinuation, but couldn’t shake the feeling that he could see right through her bluff. Her heart beat rapidly in her chest as she realized that she was trapped in the quidditch changing rooms with the person who had been plaguing her thoughts.

The air surrounding the pair was thick with tension and charged with electricity. Countless days of teasing and rivalry, all the discreet glances and brushes of shoulders against each other, bottled up into a single moment, this moment. By the time Y/N had turned to face the cause of the palpitations in her chest, he was mere inches away.

His hot breath fanned her face and his deep brown eyes scanned over her. She could practically feel the heat of his body against hers, white hot and tempting. He knew exactly what he was doing to her.

“What do you want, Weasley?” She breathed, finally managing the courage to meet his eyes.

“You.” He said simply, tongue darting out to dampen his lips.

For a moment, it was as if they had both stopped breathing. Neither of them said a word or moved an inch, anticipating the other’s next move.

“Fuck it.”

Before Y/N could let out a word, his lips were on hers and his arms wrapped tightly around her waist.

All of the frustration and built up resentment between the pair of them came to play in the harshness of his kiss. It was not sweet nor soft, not what one would imagine a kiss between a prince and a princess to be. Rather, it was passionate, playful, and powerful. Two opposing forces clashing against each other, their convergence causing an eruption of flames.

Fred was not a shy person, and it was evident in the way he kissed her.

If she was the least bit surprised, he couldn’t tell, because as soon as his arms rested on the small of her back, she pressed her palms against his chest and leaned into him. For once, she let him take the lead and their mouths molded together in a passionate dance.

“We shouldn’t be doing this.” She gasped as they broke apart for air, chests rising and falling rapidly.

“You think too much.” He responded, leaning down to capture her lips in his once more.

The way his lips deftly glazed over her neck and attached themselves to the point right below her ear made small sounds of pleasure escape her lips and her hips rutted against his.

These sounds only spurred him further as his arms slid down from her waist to the backs of her thighs, urging her to wrap them around him. She complied, and soon her back was against the wall as he continued the assault on her neck.

When the pair finally broke away, they took a moment to breathe, panting heavily. Y/N was the first to break the silence, laughing slightly at the compromising position they were in, and how they had just spent the last several minutes taking their frustrations out on each other.

“What’s so funny then,” Fred smiled as he slowly eased his grip on her thighs, lowering her back to the floor.

“Nothing,” She shook her head, surprised at how casual they treated the situation, “Just not what I’d expected to happen when Slytherin won today.”

“And what did you expect?” He quirked an eyebrow, “Especially when you were out there playing so well and looking that good.”

Y/N had to bite her lip to keep herself from grinning like an idiot, “Definitely not snogging you in the changing rooms, that’s for sure.”

“I know for a fact that you quite enjoyed what we did,” He whispered, pulling her close to him once more and closing the gap between them.

“In your dreams, Weasley.” She breathed.

And then his lips were on hers again. And again and again and again.

Over the course of the next few weeks, many noticed how the dynamics between the two shifted ever so slightly. There were still jeers and taunts in the halls, teasing comments made in classes or during meals, but there were also fewer eye rolls and less malice behind their words. It was almost as if they had an unspoken agreement.

The only one who had really caught on to what was really happening between the two of them was George, and it was only because he walked in on them on Fred’s bed in the dorms.

Y/N had been on top of Fred, straddling his midsection and pressing soft kisses all along his face and jaw, while he had his arms wrapped around her waist and held her tightly. Chest to chest, a soft hum verbrated from him as she continued her ministrations.

There wasn’t any sort of sexual tension at that moment, in fact, there hadn’t been an ounce of it the whole day. Laying like this with Fred made Y/N all sorts of confused, but she still enjoyed whatever the hell was happening between them.

It was cut short, though, as George had walked through the threshold of the dorm and saw their slightly compromised position.

“Bloody hell!” He exclaimed, and Y/N sprung up immediately, his twin’s arms falling limply at his sides at her sudden movement.

“Erm-” She mumbled, trying to move away, but Fred had none of it. If at all, his grip on her thighs tightened.

She could feel his body shaking from the laugh he was trying to hold in, and smacked him on the chest, “Fred! Stop that!”

“What?” He laughed, “It’s not like he saw anything, did you, Georgie?”

George, who was still trying to process what he had just witnessed, blinked a couple of times before shaking his head in disbelief, “Good Godric, so this is why you two have been acting so odd lately?”

“Well, it’s not as if we’re bloody dating,” Fred rolled his eyes, but Y/N felt her heart skip a beat, “We’re just having some fun s’all.”

She swallowed the lump that was suddenly in her throat and gave a feeble nod, “Yep. Just some fun.”

It was a pretty good bad idea Wasn’t it though?

Y/N didn’t know why she began avoiding Fred.

To everyone else in the school, all was well. The teasing between them hadn’t stopped. The little jabs at meals, in classes, or out in the hallways still happened. She was still a prefect and took points from Gryffindor whenever she caught the twins outside of curfew or running from Filch. They were both still beaters who played for their respective teams and shot remarks mockingly at one another out on the pitch.

Outside of those moments, though, Y/N made it a point to walk the other direction when she saw him walking her way, with or without his twin. She would slip out of shared classes as soon as the bell rang and their professor dismissed them. She even went as far as hiding in a spare broom closet once, when she was doing her prefect rounds and heard his telltale laughter just around the corner.

They hadn’t shared a moment alone in a few weeks and Fred had wracked his brain trying to figure out what he did wrong. Their set-up had been practically perfect before she started avoiding him. Stolen kisses and the excitement of sneaking around with her were some of the best times of his life there in Hogwarts. He hadn’t had the Gryffindor courage to tell her how he really felt, but at least they shared intimate moments alone, away from prying eyes and judgemental stares.

Instead, now he had taken to staring at her whenever he could, replaying all of their previous interactions to find out what went wrong between them.

“Oi, quit staring at Y/N before McGonagall takes points from us for not paying attention to her,” George hastily whispered one day.

“I’m not doing anything wrong,” Fred defended, his eyes still locked on Y/N. She paid him no mind, unconsciously twirling the quill in her hands and chewing on her bottom lip.

He thought she looked stunning.

“I never thought I would say this,” George groaned softly, “But you’ve gotta listen in class right now or else we’ll lose even more points and everyone’ll be right chuffed. We can figure out your dumb bird problems after.”

With a roll of his eyes, Fred finally brought his attention back to what their professor was going on about. He’d worry about whatever was going on with Y/N later.

“I think it’s simple, really,” George shrugged, later on in the day when it was just the two of them in their dorm. He leant back against the headboard of his four-poster, an image of calm and nonchalance.

“On with it then!” Fred exclaimed, the exact opposite of his twin at the moment. He fidgeted from his position on his own bed, his foot tapped anxiously on the hardwood floor and his hand kept running through his already disheveled hair.

George couldn’t believe what he was seeing. His own twin, all out of balance because of some bird.

But it wasn’t just any bird, he knew, it was Y/N. And if it had to be any bird in the whole school for Fred to become this mess of feelings and uncertainty, at least it was because of her. George always knew that their rivalry would either end in them realizing their feelings for each other or them hexing each other to death.

“Grow some balls and just tell her how you feel, you daft git!” He exclaimed, humor sparkled in his eyes.

“Be serious here, George,” Fred groaned and pushed his face against one of his pillows.

His twin rolled his eyes, “I am being serious! It’s obvious she fancies the balls off of you, so just ask her out on a date or something and save us all from this awkward dance the lot of you have been doing for the past few weeks.”

George’s words rang in Fred’s mind for longer than he liked to admit.

One night, as dinner was coming to a close, he’d had enough. He spotted Y/N getting up from her seat at the Slytherin table and stood abruptly from his half finished meal. As she exited the Great Hall, he followed her out and into the drafty corridor.

“Y/N!” He yelled before he could stop himself.

She paused briefly, shoulders tensing at his call to her. Instead of turning around though, she picked up her pace.

Fred cursed softly, “Y/N, I know you can hear me!”

As his legs were much longer than hers, he caught up to her quickly. Still, she paid him no mind and continued her on her way, “What’s got your wand all in a knot, Y/L/N?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Weasley.” Came her reply.

“You know exactly what I’m talking about, Y/L/N,” He rolled his eyes, “You’ve been ignoring me recently and I can’t think of anything that I’ve done wrong.”

“I don’t know about you, but I’ve been actually paying attention to my classes and doing all of my coursework, that takes up most of my time these days.” She shrugged, turning a corner and continuing her fast pace, “And I’m not at your beck and call, Weasley. I’m not yours.”

“You could be.”

Y/N’s resolve seemed to be taken away with the tide as he muttered those words aloud. In fact, she was so shocked at what he said that she quite literally had to stop walking and merely stared at the redheaded boy.

“Don’t be daft, Weasley.” She managed to choke out after a few beats.

He turned to face her and Y/N had never seen him look so serious before. Fred was usually the louder twin, the more explosive one, the one who acted first and thought of the consequences later. But now, now she could see that he had nothing but genuine intentions as his eyes scanned her and gauged her reaction.

She huffed, unwilling to let her walls down for even a second. It was too frightening, telling the person she had spent much of her formative years rivalling with how she truly felt about them. In fact, despite her act, she couldn’t get it in her to look him in the eyes.

“This, whatever this is, you know that it isn’t a good idea.” She tried to argue, but as the words left her lips they seemed to carry no weight in them.

“It’s a pretty good bad idea if you ask me.” He said with as much conviction as possible, “C’mon, Y/L/N, you gonna back down from a challenge?”

That sparked a fire in her eyes that he had missed seeing, one that said she meant business, “I’ll say yes to you on one condition,” She said.

“Anything.”

“Take me out on a date first.”

#weasleyclaw showtunes fics #fred weasley #fred weasley fanfiction #fred wealsey fic #fred weasley fics #fred weasley imagines #fred weasley imagine #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley x y/n #tw swearing #tw kissing

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waithyuck · 4 years

Text

beautiful

pairing: cambion! lee donghyuck/haechan x reader (f) **halloweenie special**

genre: smut, supernatural au

word count: 4.6k

warnings: brief allusions to darker themes, brief thoughts/desires to harm the reader in a consensual sexual context (reader is really into it and encourages it), explicit language, sexual content, unprotected sex, cumming inside, blood, rough handling, hyuck has a big dick whoops, hyuck is also a half demon so he gets a lil sadistic you have been warned

a/n: this was really fun to write and I’m really excited to see all of your reactions after reading lol

{cambion: offspring of a demon and a human; commonly has physical deformities and can exhibit evil and malicious behavior.}

< previous | next >

~10/17/2020~

~~~~

the world you lived in now was one that society probably could have never predicted back a hundred years ago. you were sure no one thought that humans would live amongst creatures far beyond the common imagination, nor did you think that they thought the human race would still come out on top.

most would assume that supernatural creatures would have taken over the hierarchy easily, but that was not the case for this world. even though there were demons, angels, dragons–you name it, they existed– somehow the humans still ruled.

from what you could understand, it was because the supernatural were threatened since the very beginning of their known existence. unfortunately for them, the human government now had the means (and the firepower) to keep them subdued. they were essentially forced to keep their powers subdued, for the “greater good of the population”, as the people in charge put it.

ever since you were a child, there had been at least a handful of non-human children that were part of your classes at school. not many, since there were fears of bullying and harm from other students toward them, but enough to make a lasting impression on you.

at first, you were curious. you remember one instance back in grades school where you wouldn't stop staring at a young werewolf boy; too young to hide his teeth or his tail. you didn’t stare because you hated him or wanted to pick on him; you really thought he was amazing, but didn’t have the words to explain that to him at such a young age.

you’re proud to say you’ve grown a lot since then. now in college, you treated those different to you as equals, as you should. you try not to stare or question, and of course you’re never mean and you don’t bully, nor do you condone bullying.

seeing the supernatural constantly being picked on was something that always made you feel sick. they weren’t legally allowed to use their powers or strength, leaving them at a disadvantage to cowardly human bullies. you didn’t doubt that if the supernatural were able to fight back, the humans would cower in three seconds flat, and you would have yourself a good laugh.

speaking of bullies, you unfortunately had to pass by a group of girls who were berating a boy you’ve seen across campus a few times. as you walked, you couldn’t hear what they were saying, but you could see the boy becoming visibly more upset (or angry, rather) as time went on.

lee donghyuck was usually an individual who kept to himself, most definitely because of his genetic makeup. the experts around the school determined that he was a cambion; a half human half demon offspring, to which donghyuck apparently confirmed. people would constantly come at him for his singular red eye or the talons that were only on his left hand.

to be honest, you were always a little afraid of him. sticking up for him was very heavily outweighed by the fear he might lash out at you for helping, making him feel weak or something. but today something inside you screamed for you to help him, no matter the consequences.

you just hoped he didn’t tear you to shreds with his sharp talons.

you changed course and walked straight up to the group of nasty girls, them not even noticing you until you stepped in front of donghyuck, much to his surprise as well as theirs.

“can you guys leave him alone?” you stupidly asked, your voice not coming out as strong as you would have liked it to. the ‘leader’ of the pack looked shocked for a second, before laughing in your face.

“oh my god!” she laughed, clutching her stomach. “why are you trying to defend this freak? hoping he’ll fuck you or something?”

you felt your face heat up in embarrassment but you held your ground, not tearing your eyes away from her or moving from your spot in front of the half-demon boy.

“no,” you firmly stated, “I’m just trying to defend him from low-lifes who think it’s cool to pick on him for things he can’t control.”

you gave yourself a mental high five for maintaining your composure. you couldn’t see donghyuck’s face but you were really hoping he wasn’t angry. you didn’t turn to face him just yet.

the girl in front of you dropped her smile, a scowl replacing it as she scoffed in your face. she let out a “whatever,” before motioning for her posse to follow her as she walked away.

well, that was easier than you thought it was gonna be.

“why did you do that?” the boy behind you suddenly asked, his voice soft but it still managed to startle you. you turned to face him, putting on your biggest smile.

“I can’t stand when people pick on others for things that can’t be controlled.” you explained simply, looking him in the eye even though your heart was ready to explode out of your chest. “you didn’t decide to be what you are, so no one should belittle you for that.”

he cracked a small smile at you, and at that moment a friendship formed, whether the two of you realized it or not.

donghyuck allowed you to grow close to him, which you thought was the most amazing thing. he opened himself up to you, and you became great friends over the course of the winter semester into the spring. in turn you opened up to him, and the two of you had a pure and healthy friendship.

he smiled with you and joked around, laughing and being playful in your presence. not many people bothered him when you were around, most likely because they didn’t feel like fighting with someone, which you and hyuck were grateful for.

hyuck was always gentle; he never wanted to hurt anyone or anything, not even the smallest ants on the ground. he was very careful not to touch you, in fear he would be unaware of his inhuman strength and hurt you or accidentally scratch you with his sharp claws. you didn’t mind him being wary, but there was a part of that wished he would be comfortable enough for at least a hug.

of course you didn’t push him.

currently you sat with him in an empty art classroom, helping him with his literature paper while you painted the way the sun reflecting off the walls on your canvas. the sun touched his face beautifully, and as much as you wanted to paint him instead of the boring room, you kept your mind on track.

you worked in silence for a few moments, enjoying each other’s presence in the warmth of dusk, but of course no good thing lasts forever, and your peace was rudely interrupted as you heard the door slide open.

“hey, half-breed!” a girl shouted, causing hyuck to grip his pencil so hard it splintered completely in half, shocking you as you watched the top half fly in the air. “who’s this? your new little girlfriend?” the girl smirked evilly, looking at her painted nails before going on. “best be careful you don’t scare her away with your demonic tendencies. I bet you can’t even touch her without wanting to tear her to shreds with those ugly claws.” she snickered along with her posse of friends, and at that point you scowled at them, ready to rip them all new assholes. as you prepared to stand up to defend your friend, he stopped you with his own actions.

donghyuck let a loud growl rip through his throat, turning to face the bullies and effectively silencing them with the menacing sound. it shocked you, but you stood your ground and gripped his jacket sleeve to ground him despite your trembling fingers.

“I didn’t ask to be this way!” he practically screamed, intimidating the group standing before you even further. “do you think my mother asked for this? to have a burden of a son?” his voice was starting to fill with despair, and you could feel it inside you that he was struggling to keep his composure.

donghyuck sniffed and glared at the wall, not giving his tormentors the time of day any more.

“just leave me the fuck alone, would you?” he asked quietly, an aggressive air still present in his low tone.

one by one you watched the bullies file out, most of them shocked at hyuck’s sudden display of hostility. you supposed that they weren’t expecting him to finally fight back after all this time.

he stayed brooding beside you, and when you tried to find his gaze with your own, he shut his eyes as a stray tear fell down his cheek. before you could comment on it, he roughly wiped it away, still not meeting your kind eyes.

“donghyuck…” you whispered, your voice gentle as you tried to get his attention. “will you look at me?”

when he didn’t move or respond, you grasped his hand gently, failing to ignore the way he jumped at the contact.

“come on,” you spoke softly, tugging his arm slightly. “let’s go back to my place.”

he didn’t say anything in response, but allowed you to lead him back to your empty dorm room across campus. it was a silent walk, but you never let go of his hand, and he didn’t seem to want you to let go either, the tight grip he held on you being a clear sign.

when you arrived, you lazily pushed the door open, and led him to sit down on your creaky bed. you tried to pull your hand out of his own to go switch on the lights, but his grip only grew tighter, pulling your arm and causing you to fall down to sit next to him. you didn’t comment on the sudden slightly aggressive way he handled you; you only worried for him as he sat in the darkness of the room.

“...are you alright?” you asked, silently cursing yourself after a moment for asking such a stupid question.

he was silent for a moment, only breathing softly in the quietness in the room, before he sighed shakily and spoke up

“she should have gotten rid of me when she had the chance,” he whispered, his gaze cast downward as he shakily breathed before you. “she told me she couldn’t do it. she told me she wanted to be able to love me.”

you could safely assume he was referring to his mother, and the solemn tone in his voice made you fight back tears. you still never let go of his hand.

“I’m a living reminder of the trauma she went through…yet everyday when she looked at me, she never complained.” at this you saw a tear escape his left eye, the red iris glassy as the tears spilled forth.

“I’m a fucking monster.”

you felt your heart shatter.

here was this broken boy in front of you, claiming he was a monster for things he could have never even hoped to control. he was never malicious; he was always so gentle with everything, especially toward you. He stayed quiet when people relentlessly picked on him, never fighting back until today. as far as you were concerned, there was no way that he could ever be considered a monster, no matter what his genetic make up was or how he looked to other.

“what?” you questioned abruptly, your voice raising sightly above a whisper. “how could you say that? you’re not a monster, lee donghyuck.” he turned to look at you then, his eyes wide with curiosity as he watched you continue to speak. “you have a heart of gold. you’re always so gentle and caring with me, and other living creatures around you. you never fight back and i’ve never seen you hurt anyone.” you tore your eyes away from him, panting as you looked down at your lap, the rant you were going on making you emotional. “you are absolutely not a monster.”

he looked conflicted and turned his back to you, and you assumed it was because he didn’t want you to see what he was feeling. your hands were now apart, no longer in the comforting embrace of each other's warmth.

“...I could hurt you.” he mumbled quietly, and you weren’t able to detect the emotion in his voice. your eyebrows furrowed at the sudden statement, and you were quick with your rebuttal.

“you won’t.”

when he turned around and abruptly gripped your throat with his clawed fingers, you flinched instinctively but didn’t react further than that, challenging his angry gaze with a hard and confident stare. even though your heart was beating through your ribcage, you decided to grip his wrist with your own fingers as you looked at him, preparing to speak with a hard swallow that he surely felt against his palm.

“you can’t hurt me,” you said in a small voice, your lips quivering despite you trying your best to keep your composure. “you won’t. I know you won’t.” you continued, watching his face subtly change into one of confusion. his eyes were still transfixed on you; one crimson red like the blood flooding through your veins, and the other warm and brown, almost inviting you to get closer.

your grip on his warm wrist tightened, your other hand coming up to daringly caress his face, not hesitating to smooth over his soft cheek as he stared at you in complete awe.

“I trust you, donghyuck.”

fuck, you really wanted to kiss him.

he beat you to it though, pressing his lips against yours tightly, causing you to squeak in surprise. you kissed him back with as just as much feeling, your mouths moving together in sync. his clawed hand moved from your throat to rest on his leg (a little to your dismay, if you were being honest), and his other came up to gently caress your cheek as he deepened the kiss with his tongue.

“h-hyuck,” you played, pulling back only a centimeter, hips lips chasing yours. “is th-this okay? are you—“ his lips on yours cut you off, and he hummed into it before pulling away.

“I-I want you,” he stated quietly, looking down at his lap before flitted his eyes to yours once more. “if you’ll have me.”

you stared at him for a moment, overwhelming emotions filling your eyes and heart before you nodded and practically pounced on him.

the two of you kissed like there were no other worries in the world; it was just you both enjoying each other in the dim light of your room, feeling one another.

his hands didn’t touch you, but he allowed you to pull him over top of you on the bed, your back against the sheets as his body laid on top of yours.

with every moment that ticked past you grew more confident, and after a while you began fitting your hips up against his, delighted at the small friction you were creating.

“hyuck,” you whined, your hands moving to grip at the hair at the base of his neck. “pl-please, I want your fingers,” you were begging, but didn’t feel an ounce of embarrassment as his lust filled eyes stared back you, his plump lips parted. “please,”

he didn’t hesitate to help you out of your clothes, careful of his claws as he removed your pants and shirt. he freed you from your underwear and bra, leaving you bare in front of his full clothed form.

his right hand delicately smoothed down your thigh, spreading your legs apart so he could take a good look at you. you were wet and you knew it, and you threw an arm over your face to suppress your moans as he experimentally drug a finger through your soaked folds.

you didn’t have to wait long for him to sink a single digit inside you, and you let out a drawn out whine in response as he started gently thrusting it in and out of your clenching hole.

“is that good?” he asked lowly, not taking his eyes off the sight of his finger disappearing inside you. he was bold enough to add a second finger and even moved his thumb to press on your clit, and you keened at the sudden feeling.

“yes, so good baby,” you breathed in response, gripping the sheets beside you on both hands.

donghyuck eventually worked up to push a third finger inside you, and you practically howled at the feeling of being filled. his fingertips pressed into all your sweet spots, making you feel dizzy.

“mmnnff, hyuck,” you whimpered, catching his attention. he looked at you with dark eyes, his mouth parted as his tongue poked out to lick his lips. “what do you w-wanna do to me?”

it was a valid question, and it seemed to catch him off guard for a moment. hyuck seemed to be holding himself back from doing what he actually wanted, or behaving like he actually wanted to.

he quickly recovered, and withdrew his fingers from you in one quick movement. he moved them to your mouth and you caught the hint, only able to take in two of them. you suckled on his digits as you stared at him with doe eyes innocently, like you weren’t sucking off the excess juices from your pussy.

“I wanna fuck you,” he simply stated, watching you like a predator as you released his fingers from your mouth. “I wanna feel you, y/n. all of you.”

you couldn’t deny him that.

you sat up quickly and moved to tear at his shirt, the fabric peeling over his head before being thrown across the room in your haste. you worked at his pants and was successful at undoing the button and zipper, and he kicked them off his legs in one swift move.

you stared at the impossibly large bulge in his boxers, but didn’t allow yourself to become intimidated.

you would make him fit. you wanted to feel him stretch you out. you would make it work.

once his underwear was discarded, you watched his cock twitch against his stomach in awe. he sat at the edge of the bed, his feet planted on the floor as you moved to situate yourself on his lap.

you kissed him once more before a determined look graced your face, and you positioned your entrance above him, ready to begin.

“what do you really want to do to me?” you asked him again as you sank down onto his cock, watching as his nose scrunched up at the feeling of your wet and hot walls surrounding his painfully hard member.

in your periphery you could see his fingers flex like he wanted to reach out and touch you or grab you, but he was fighting himself. you sat still in his lap, his dick buried to the hilt inside you, pressing against your cervix because of how deep he was. you reached out and grabbed both of his hands, placing them on your hips.

“I w-wanna…” he started, gulping as his hands stayed feather light against your skin, still afraid to touch you fully. you clenched your walls around him playfully, watching as his expression changed from innocent and hesitant, to cold and dark in mere seconds.

his fingers gripped you fully, but he was still careful not to pierce your skin with the talons on his left hand. his right hand gripped your hip posessively, and it felt like he was close to crushing the bone. you gasped at the feeling, but welcomed the pain.

“I wanna hurt you,” he snarled, moving forward to nip at your vulnerable throat, causing his cock to move ever so slightly against your walls. “I wanna make you scream, cry, bleed...everything.”

you gasped at his words, your pussy clenching at the thought of him absolutely annihilating you, leaving you broken and unable to function as a normal human being ever again.

he must have taken your gasp the wrong way, and definitely must have not felt your walls clamp down on him, because he pulled away from your neck to look you in the eye, looking ashamed at his confession.

“you must be scared of me now,” he mumbled, looking away. “I knew this would happ–“

you cut him off by gripping his jaw in your hands, forcing him to face you as you crashed your lips against his. you moved your hands and gripped his hair, tugging roughly as you both made out messily, your body still impaled on his insanely large cock.

“fuck, donghyuck,” you panted, pulling away. “that’s so fucking hot, please,” you began rolling your hips against him, causing you both to groan. “I w-want it, please,”

he looked at you briefly before nodding his head, a movement so slight you would have missed it if you had blinked.

even though he had nodded his head, he didn’t go rough on you like you knew he wanted to. instead, he began helping you lift yourself up and down his cock, effectively fucking you onto himself. he threw his head back and moaned, and you took the opportunity to kissing along his throat and around his adam’s apple. you shivered as he growled, feeling the deep vibrations against your lips.

it felt so incredibly good to be filled with him; your walls clamped tightly around him as you swiveled and lifted your hips up and down on his lap, continuously making the both of you moan out in pleasure. it was indescribable; the way you felt almost overwhelming and you felt wetness forming in your eyes as you buried your face in his warm neck, the tears finally spilling. your broken cries egged him on, causing his hips to lift in time with you, thrusting his hard cock in and out of you with more force.

his soft grunts and groans in your ear had your walls fluttering, and with every grind against him you felt his skin brush your clit, pushing you further and further toward your impending climax. you were more worked up than you originally had thought.

“I-I thought you wanted to hurt me,” you provoked, the pace not faltering as you fucked each other with abandon. he let out a low snarl in response, but still didn’t become rough like you really wanted him to. “ come on, hyuck,” you whined out, tugging on his hard harder.

he seemed to be growing close to his end, his hips moving faster and with less precision. an idea popped into your mind, maybe not a good one, but an idea nonetheless.

you weren’t sure if it was going to work, but it was worth a shot.

you smirked to yourself.

“c-cum inside me,” you whimpered quietly in his ear, and you heard him slightly gasp at the request. “pl-please,” you begged further, your nails digging into his shoulders in result of the stimulation you were being subjected to. “I need t-to f-feel you cum inside…”

as you trailed off he roughly gripped your hips, lifting you off him with a loud growl, causing a sharp whine to escape you at the feeling of his cock slipping from your sensitive walls.

he had you on your back in seconds; lifting your legs to wrap around his waist tightly before he grabbed your hips and hoisted them in the air, pushing his cock into you again and starting a fast and rough pace immediately.

you were seeing stars at this point, not even acknowledging the pain of his talons suddenly ripping into the skin of your right side, causing blood to trickle down onto your clean sheets. it didn’t matter to you, and in some fucked up way, you seriously enjoyed the pain.

your orgasm was building very quickly, and with one final and brutal thrust from him, you were coming undone, his cock buried incredibly deep inside you.

he held you against him as he shot his cum inside you, not allowing you to squirm away as your walls clenched hard around him to the point where it was almost painful. he growled lowly as he emptied himself in your pussy, watching your face as it contorted in pleasure with an almost sinister smirk on his face.

as you came down from your overwhelming climax, you realized that he was still hard inside you, filling you up to the brim with not only his cock, but his cum as well.

you looked up at him surprised, and he only looked back at you with that same sinister smile.

“I’m not done yet,” he growled out, his voice deeper than you’ve ever heard it before. you breathed out heavily, looking up at him and taking in the largeness of his pupils; they were blown out so wide that you could barely make out the color of his irises.

he leaned his body down over you, his head moving next to yours as his lips brushed up against your ear. his movements caused his still hard cock to nudge even deeper inside you, and you gasped at the sensation.

“can you take it?” he asked, lightly nipping at your ear as he began softly grinding his hips into you once again.

you were sensitive, but the feeling of him moving inside you had your stomach fluttering, causing your walls to clench around him. you could practically hear his smirk as he chuckled, and your heart jumped at the sound.

you breathily begged for him to fuck you again, to really fuck you how he wanted to, and of course he couldn’t say no to that.

his hips pulled back and plunged into your core, the mess of both your juices squelching and spilling out as he ravaged you completely. he kept his face buried in your neck, his panting breaths tickling your skin as he groaned out with each powerful thrust.

you gripped at his back and allowed your nails to scratch down his skin, a desperate attempt to keep yourself sane. each hoarse whine that escaped from your throat only encouraged him further, and he quickened his pace to an inhuman speed.

your clit barely needed any stimulation for you to cum again.

“I-I’m sorry hyuck, I c-can’t,” you breathed out, gasping for air. “I can’t h-hold it,”

he bit your throat lightly in response, soothing the area with his tongue before speaking.

“It’s okay, baby.” he grunted, his hips losing their rhythm slightly as he pressed on. “I’m close too. just let go.”

that was all you needed to allow the band to snap, your second orgasm washing over you in waves. you didn’t realize you had sunk your teeth into his shoulder until he moaned loudly, causing you to open your eyes as he shot his cum inside you for the second time.

his hips continued to buck reflexively, and he lifted his head to capture your lips in a messy kiss, his tongue finding its way inside your mouth immediately.

it was quick but passionate, and you swore you could feel every emotion he felt for you with just that one kiss.

when he pulled out, you observed carefully as his eyes watched his cum drop out of you, his pupils still wide as he licked his lips. he snapped himself out of it when you opened your arms, inviting him to lay with you as you both came down from the exertion.

you played with his hair softly in the silence of the worm, the only sounds being of your breaths. as you closed your eyes, you heard him mumble.

“I think I love you.” he said quietly, trailing his finger up your stomach.

you immediately smiled, your heart warming with happiness.

“I think I love you too, hyuck.”

#haechan smut #nct-writers #neothestars #neowritingsnet #nct #nct 127 #haechan #donghyuck #lee donghyuck #nct dream #nct smut #nct 127 smut #nct dream smut #haechan scenarios #nct scenarios #nct dream scenarios #nct 127 scenarios #halloweenie special

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kai-writes-fan-fiction · 3 years

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In Hiding Part 6

Author’s Announcement: Hey guys! I really appreciate all of the recent feedback and the patience. My life has been pretty hectic these last few weeks, so as a reward for your patience, this is the longest part yet, and I’m really proud of it! I hope you all enjoy it!

P.S. Doctors scare me so sorry if the “medical” part of the story is shitty.

Word count: 2567

Warnings: mentions of blood, bodily harm, non-consensual medical treatment, reader is StRaNgLeD, tiny OCD routine, slight language, non-descriptive violence, and grammatical/spelling errors.

The Avengers were everything you hated. They were destructive, they took whatever they wanted without a thought about anyone else, and they loved behind a façade. You’d seen who The Avengers truly were; they were menacing, inhumane, and lacked empathy. They could’ve just left you alone; you weren’t hurting anyone. You may have been doing some illegal things, but they were minor offenses! You’d never killed, and you were against terrorism of any kind. You just wanted to go home, wanted to be left alone. Your freedom had been stripped away after you’d made your final decision. You wouldn’t fight with The Avengers; you’d do everything in your power to get away from them.

You looked up from the floor of your cell, into the eyes of Steve and Bucky, and you could tell they knew what was coming next. You were stronger than them; you could easily overpower them. They’d seen it earlier when you grabbed their wrists, and every second you sat in that godforsaken cell, you became more immune to the effect of the material blocking your powers around you.

You intimidated them, and you knew it. You knew that your time in this compound was running out, and soon you’d be free. Free. Free. Free. Free. You repeated the phrase in your head five times to lock it in.

You felt that you were ready to share your decision. “I’d never fight for you people, never. Never. Never! NEVER! NEVER!! You people are killers; you take everything for yourselves! You’ve destroyed cities, taken the lives of so many innocents. How can you live with yourselves?” You yelled. Your eyes had begun glowing, and your hair was lifted off of your head as your volume increased. “How?!” You questioned, your eyes shining brighter.

Steve and Bucky were backing into corners of your room, staring down at you. A blue aura began to form around you, illuminating the room in a vibrate blue. Your crossed legs began to levitate off of the ground, and a strong wind began to sweep through the room in a circular motion.

You didn’t want to fight, this trick took all of your energy, and the two super soldiers were helpless, so you decided this would be the perfect time to escape.

As soon as you turned to the wall farthest from the room, which you hoped would lead outside, a particularly strong wave of fatigue hit you. The wind and your aura began to dim, but Steve and Bucky knew not to lunge at you yet.

A string of mumbled curses fell from your mouth, and you let your feet descend onto the ground. This might conserve your energy so you could put more into escaping this wretched complex.

Being back on the ground and looking less powerful, Steve decided to go for it. He jumped forwards and wrapped his arms around you, pressing you into him; you could only wiggle your hands.

Lifting you off the ground, he tried to make it so you couldn’t use your feet as any leverage.

“Fucking dick!” You yelled, thrashing in his arms.

“Language!” He yelled.

You’d had enough of his bullshit and began thrashing more. His grip only tightened, but you were still stronger. There was a vent located right above you, so you flew out of his arms.

You tucked your legs into your chest after he tried to reach out for them and stretched your arms, reaching for the vent. You swiftly pulled it off its hinges and forced yourself into the circulation system.

The tunnels weren’t dissimilar to a maze, you tried to go in one direction, but after 20 or so corners, you have turned around. The alarms blaring throughout the compound, warning everyone of your escape, were bringing about an awful migraine, and you were becoming more and more fatigued by the minute. You wouldn’t stop, though.

You had heard a few voices in the tunnels with you, as well as footsteps. You made sure to avoid them, and after 10 minutes of wandering through the ventilation, you found an air vent to the outside. You pushed hard, and with the last bit of strength you had left, the vent became dislodged. You tumbled out and plummeted about two stories before hiding the ground with a painful ‘thud.’

You crumpled into a ball on the grass, and you felt blood trickle down your forehead. You could also no longer feel your right foot, meaning it was broken. Everything hurt, but your ribs were also a very obviously damaged part of your body. Every time you moved, you felt a shooting pain.

You slowly sat up and wiped the blood from your face, and the amount of blood on your hand was startling. You looked around other parts of your body to assess the damage and found that your knees and elbows were also bloodied, as well as a few scrapes here and there. You lifter up your blue scrubs to get a better look at your side, where a wide purple and blue patch was starting to form. Hesitantly, you placed two fingers on your side, looking for anything broken. The shooting pain was the response, and you pulled your hand away. It was most likely broken, as was your right ankle. It was also a swelling purple and blue mess, and the pain was begging to hit.

You let your eyes fall away from your body to look at your surroundings. You were greeted by vast green forest on all sides, and behind you stood The Avengers compound. It loomed over you, and you could still hear the alarms blaring from the inside. You struggled to get up, and, to no avail, did you.

So, you lay on the ground, your tribulation had failed, and you were doomed once more. You tucked yourself into a ball and cried.

‘How could you be so weak?’ You thought to yourself. ‘How could you let people like the Avengers-like HYDRA-control you like this?’

It would be best if you found somewhere to hide, and quickly. You wouldn’t let The Avengers control you anymore. You couldn't.

You pushed yourself up, so you were on your hands and knees, but you were weak, and I’m so much agony. You kept pressing on, though. You crawled your way to the forest and let yourself fall behind a tree. You must’ve hit a tripwire or a perimeter alert, as a new set of sirens went off and an automated voice yelled your location. You cursed, but you couldn’t go on much longer. With your injuries and your temporary inability to shift, you had to surrender.

—————Avenger POV—————

“We’ve got a location!” Tony yelled through the team's comms. “Kid’s headed East, and it looks like she’s stopped behind a set of trees. I can see her on cams.”

“Who should we send out there? You saw what she did to Steve and Bucky.” Implored Natasha.

“She looks pretty tired. We could probably take her if we needed to, but I don’t think a fight is in store.” Bucky advised.

“How about we all just go out there?” Steve added sarcastically.

“Oh yeah. Good idea, capsicle.” Tony agreed. “Everyone grab your things and meet me in the common room; we’ll all go out and surround her. Bucky, Steve, you go from the East. Natasha and Clint, you guys, take the North. Strange got here a few hours ago, so he and I will take the West. Loki, you’re just going to ignore me, so Thor, go with him and make sure he doesn’t do anything rash. And Bruce? You stay inside; we don’t want a code green, big guy.”

‘Okay’s and ‘mhm’s sounded through the Comms, and three minutes later, everyone was gathered in the common room, looking at one another surreptitiously, not knowing what would greet them on the other side of the doors. They didn’t know whether or not you’d be putting up a fight, but they were about to find out.

“We’re all here? Let’s go then.” Tony commanded. His suit's helmet fell over his face, and he strode forward, everyone else in close pursuit.

—————Your POV—————

You were weaving in and out of consciousness, and you still lay crumpled on the ground in your ball. You felt weak, and you couldn’t think straight. The world was a spinning vortex, and you almost thought you heard voices and feet. You opened your eyes and were met with the face of Tony once more.

SNAP! SNAP! In your face again, but with metal fingers instead of flesh. Tony likes snapping, it seems. You, however, did not. You attempted to growl to ward him off, but you couldn’t produce any kind of sound.

You turned your head slightly to face the rest of the team. They towered over you, weapons drawn and aimed at your face. Typically, you wouldn’t fear them, but in your fragile state, they were pretty threatening.

This wasn't very pleasant. You, one of the most powerful enhanced humans ever, were lying on the ground, bloodied and broken, at the will of The Avengers. They stared down at you, pity written all over their faces. Pity, not a feeling you wanted to be affiliated with.

Two metal arms reached out and wrapped around you, hoisting you up. A sudden rush of adrenaline caused your limbs to begin thrashing about, and the pain from your ankle and ribs subsided. Your sudden movement caused the metal arms encasing your body to pull you closer to the body they attached to. You felt the metal chest and put two and two together. You were in the mostly impenetrable arms of the Iron Man.

Tony picked you up carefully and began walking back into the compound, and the team followed suit. You tried to summon the adrenaline once more, but it didn’t want to come.

Feeling completely vulnerable, you decided to surrender. Yes, it was the cowards’ way out, but did you have another option? Your body was giving up on you, you couldn’t use your powers, and your opponents happened to be the killers of Thanos, another very powerful being.

There was no hope, so you just closed your eyes and allowed the sleep that had been creeping up on you to take over. Your vision faded into black, and the last thing you remembered was the mechanical hum of the Iron Man's suit.

——————————

You awoke to quiet chatter, and a beeping machine you could only assume was a pulse monitor.

As soon as your eyes fluttered open, your senses were flooded with a bright white and the smell of rubbing alcohol.

You looked up from your supine position to find yourself strapped to a table once more, but stronger and additional restraints were added this time. You still felt weak, and your side and ankle were aching, as well as your head.

An IV was embedded in your forearm, and as your eyes traveled the length of the tube up to the bag supplying it, you found it contained a thick blue substance. It must’ve been combating your powers because you couldn’t shift.

You took in your surroundings and found various members of The Avengers watching you. Creepy.

“Welcome back to the land of the living (Y/N).” Chuckled Tony, “You gave us quite a scare.”

The rest of the team went silent, and Bruce, dressed in a white lab coat, whipped around to face you and ran to your bedside. He whipped out a flashlight and shoved it in your face, his fingers following to hold your eye open while the flashlight shined in.

“Pupils are dilating, so no concussion.” He hummed, moving to your other eye.

He moved to pull a stethoscope from his neck and pressed the bell to your chest. You bit your tongue to stop from yelling out when the cold metal touched your bare skin. You must’ve bitten it when you fell because you sensed a metallic taste in your mouth. Bruce was in spitting distance, so you let the blood and saliva pool in your mouth, and you prepared to launch it towards him.

As soon as he lifted his head, you released your spit bomb. Bruce recoiled and began incessantly wiping his face with gloved hands. A hand flew around your neck, preventing you from spitting again.

Blood dribbled down your chin, and you looked up to the face the hand belonged to. It happened to be the winter soldier, and you grinned up at him, blood coating your teeth. He stared you down, and you did the same. The rest of the team just stood by, wearing “What The Fuck Just Happened” expressions.

Bucky finally released your neck, and Banner walked back over, blood-free and with duct tape.

“Shouldn’t have done that.” Tony mocked from behind Bruce as he and Bucky taped your mouth shut.

You tried to shake him off, but your movements were no use. Barnes had a firm grip on your head that prevented you from thrashing about, and Bruce was wrapping your face.

‘Duct tape is the best they can do?’ You thought to yourself. ‘Do they know that duct tape loses its stick when wet?’

You laughed to yourself, and Bruce and Bucky ceased their actions and looked up at you, as did the rest of the team.

“What’re you laughing about?” Bucky snarled.

You only shook your head and rolled your eyes. If they didn’t know, why tell them?

Banner ripped the tape and stepped back. Bucky released your head, and you stared up at the ceiling, hoping they’d all leave.

“The rest of you can go. Bucky, you stay here. I need help controlling her.”

“You got it, Banner.”

The rest of the team reluctantly left, leaving you, Bucky, and Bruce. You looked over to them and stared them down with undeniable murderous intent.

“So, uh, what’re we doing next?” Bucky turned to Bruce, who was still staring you down.

Bruce snapped out of his trance and looked over to Bucky. “She’s still got some injuries from her fall; I need to check those out. Do you have any medical training?”

Bucky nodded. “A little bit, from when I served. Just basic stuff.”

“We can work with that.” Bruce crossed his arms and walked in the direction of your injured ankle.

You tried to get away, but the power suppressors and restraints prevented you from doing anything, so you just wriggled around uselessly.

Banner pressed two fingers to your swollen and bruised ankle, and you bit your tongue to stifle a muffled scream. He moved his fingers to another part of your ankle, and you hit your head against the table to suppress another outcry.

“Bucky, can you grab some Ace bandage? I think the Talus is fractured. We’ll need an X-Ray to make sure, but I doubt she’ll cooperate.”

“I can make her, or we could try sedation.” Bucky offered.

Bruce seemed to rather like that idea, as his brows raised, and he procured a metal syringe.

Forcing it into your arm, you let out a muffled, yet surprised yelp. Immediately after the syringe was removed from your arm, your world began to darken, and you became dizzy.

You tried and failed to resist, but your body gave in, and the last thing you saw was Bucky and Bruce watching you.

To be continued…

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rattlerinthewheel · 3 years

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Fruit Bat: Scud/Reader

He should know better than to irritate the vampire that’s already pissed, wounded, and starving—so you teach him.

For the Kinky Things Happen bingo square: vampires and discipline, at @pandoratriestowritestuff’s request for some Scud. Credit to them and @phoenixblack89, who talked about Scud getting spanked and choking on a donut, for the respective scenes.

- - -

You’re still pissed at him.

But it’s hard to give him the silent treatment when you need to get at the junk around the tables. Move, pass me that wrench, throw me that wire, is dry and distant, work-related; but turn that shit down, quit spewing crumbs, stop grabbing me, and other growls that aren’t related to the tech you’re fiddling with get read as some sign—to keep doing those things, but that’s sure not what your glares should be saying.

Well, it isn’t a surprise that he’s being a dumbass about it. A moron about a lot of shit, lately, the bandage on your arm can vouch for that. And it was an accident, sure, you wouldn’t usually blame him for aiming that UV flashlight at anything that swarmed at him on a job; but he’d been high and you’d called out a warning, dammit, and he still got you with it. Burned like a motherfucker, like acid.

His apology was huffed, high-sluggish, and rank like the shitty weed he’d been toking.

Maybe he’s realizing you’re really pissed, content with just your hand as company for a few days, because you haven’t taken a break even once from this group project—a net of UV panels you can drape over the van; they stay off for now, obviously—to get your hands down his pants, or his down yours.

But Josh—Scud’s dumb, and it pisses him off to be called Josh, so of course that’s what you call him—is definitely high, not as sharp as he’d otherwise be, and his logic is coming from his dick today. His brain would be screaming at him to not agitate the vampire that’s wounded and pissed.

He’s prodded at you the whole damn night so far, brushing your groin to grab a tool there’s fifteen more of scattered around that he can get to, angling his head in a way that makes the churning veins under too damn tempting, flat-out groping your ass when his first two tactics don’t get him anything more than warning hisses.

Except when he decides he doesn’t like a particular hiss you give, too much teeth for his liking, because when his hand drops from where it’s gotten in a squeeze it claps right back down across the ass cheek it grabbed. Fucking hard, too; "make peace, not war" your ass.

You whirl where he’s scrambling back to his side of the room, giggling, hands raised with his palms out like he can call a truce. Like he hasn’t been doing this shit all night and your hisses and menaced fangs are supposed to be equals, or something.

Well, they aren’t. And you feel like cashing in some payback.

"C’mon, baby, lighten up!" trails his getaway while you give chase. You don’t run after him, but Josh stumbles and darts around like you are. It’s one of the oldest hunting tactics, just following, while the prey tires itself out trying to get away. Vampires don’t need to use it, you could just as easily catch up, even with a bandaged arm.

But Josh wants to goddamn play, so you’ll follow suit. For now.

Smoker’s lungs, stoner’s, don’t let him keep it up as long as a guy his age could. Josh staggers, stumbles a last time like his clothes weigh fifty pounds, and drops on the steps up to another part of the workshop. By his couch and TV, the little nest he’s made for himself, and you don’t think that’s accidental; but you don’t plan to move things to that shitty couch, not anytime soon.

You walk right up to him, and Josh goddamn grins, leaning back on his hands and spreading his legs like he’s offering himself up like a damn meal. He’s still got one of those shitty donuts, and he takes a bite, still grinning, and flicks a crumb at your leg.

"You’re a child," you growl, getting a whiff of syrup lactic acids, probably burning his calves like battery; iron thumped in and out of his heart, jumping in his throat, flushing his face; that damn weed turning everything earthy, chalky like loam, but still good.

"I’m a delight," spews more crumbs with another giggle. "Besides, baby, you love it."

You do—when you aren’t pissed at him. "Love to kick your ass," you huff, toeing the step by his foot.

His hum makes you swallow. Fucking thirsty, you are, and that’s just the worst kind of trifecta for Josh to be near right now: starved, pissed, and wounded. Your nerves are shot, and his chase didn’t tire you, but it sure as shit reminded you of what hunts are supposed to take care of. And his hum, that sounds vaguely like a dying, helpless churr from a punctured throat...

Shit.

But the hum bubbles into a chuckle, as you’re stepping away to beat it and get back to work—so Blade doesn’t have you to stake and Josh to mend, or a drained corpse to bury—when you get a lazy kick to your calf and a teasing, "The little fruit bat running away? Afraid I’ll smack him again?"

You’re starving, agitated, and your arm throbs. It’s not a nickname you hate, but it sets off something.

You stop, turn back slowly, and flick your eyes to either side to make sure you won’t be skewered by stray junk out of place. All clear, so you skulk up, schooling your face into a careful, bland look that puts Josh on edge more than a scowl.

"Ain’t my ass about to get smacked, boy," is throttled with a snap of fangs and a low pounce, and Josh can only drop the fucking donut and yelp as you tackle him.

He gets a bit of ground, because his hand clamps right down on the bandages, making you bark at the bolt of pain. It’s been longer since your last drink than you admitted to Blade, before he left, and that doesn’t help. But Blade would’ve had you come with, otherwise, and you figured dealing with Josh was worth getting the panels for the van closer to field testing.

Because as much as you want to skitter up the wall and drop Josh from the rafters, most days, you don’t want to get back to the van and find a drained, stoner-sized juice box.

So it’s a little ironic that he’s sprawled over your legs, when the scuffle’s over. It’s not what you intended—to pin him to his stomach, straddle, and give a few smacks before letting him go—but you sort yourselves out. First Josh, and you wrap an arm over his waist to keep him down; then yourself, and you sit up properly so his ass is right where you want it.

These days, child rearing isn’t what you were accustomed to, and Josh doesn’t figure it out until he feels your hand settle across the seat of his cargo pants. "No fuckin’ way," is half telling, half laughing, and the weed probably has something to do with that second part.

Because the first part’s not amused, but just in case he doesn’t get it across that he’s not thrilled to be pinned this way, Josh starts trying to buck off your lap.

"Yes fucking way," you hiss, and your hand cracks down over his right cheek.

It’s loud, even for his human hearing, and goes off like a shotgun blast. Josh twists his head back, huffing. The scowl he tries to give doesn’t have the kind of impact he hopes for, when it twitches at the second swat you land, right over the same spot. Harder than the first, because you won’t have him scowling at you, goddamn brat.

"Hope you know how to sleep with one eye open," cracks when you get a handful of flesh, quieter when he hangs his head. The pants are thin, and you feel the warmth from the swats, hell, hear the blood fizz under the surface. "Get you back for this."

You frown, not at the threat, but another rush of blood you hear. Feel, even better, in your lap.

You growl and throw a withering look his way, because fucking seriously? "You gettin’ hardover this?"

You hear the bones grind, Josh gritting his teeth, when you give the spot you’ve hit twice now a slow rub. Christ, he is, and he’s halfway there by the time you’ve rubbed enough circles into the warmed skin that you have to strain to hear the fizzing blood. You should’ve guessed he was into this, not like he doesn’t rile you up to pin or chase him anyway, this even makes sense.

The swipe to his left thigh is sudden, vampire speed but not strength because you aren’t that cruel. Your ears perk at the sound it gets, when the crack settles again, but before you can ask if he’s fine you feel his thigh rise up into your hand. You can’t help but scoff, because Christ’s sake, you weren’t trying to get frisky with him—and that ship’s goddamn sailed, because you’re helping him get hard.

You’re getting hard, too, can’t be a hypocrite about that. Josh feels it, pushing up into his side, and when he twists his head back again he’s flushed and his mouth’s open. His eyes are glazed over, brow’s furrowed, you think, but it’s hard to tell with the mop of hair in the way. Dammit,and you get a handful of his shirt in your striking hand to keep him from toppling over, and unwrap the other to push the hair off his face.

You can hear his sigh just fine, but it thrums into your fingers where you keep them pushed into his scalp, warm, damp from work and running from you. "Done already, baby? Maybe we can switch," buzzes up your arm.

Shit. You aren’t excited for that, because if he’s going to get you back he’s damn well working for it. But you can feel him reacting to you, swamping your senses; a whine when your fingers curl in the bangs before combing out, his hips shimmying when your arm loops over again, the muscles of his hide clenching as you drag down his pants and boxers.

That last one gets a sharp breath that’s followed up with a sharper swat. You suck in a gasp yourself and tighten your arm, giving your hard-on friction to grind off of, as you run your fingertips over the barely-pink skin. Warm, hot, without the fabric, and it fizzles louder like damn fireworks, when you drop your palm over the left cheek.

"Baby? Not getting any, uh, urges? Know I look good ‘nough to eat normally, but—"

"Shut up," you snarl, and then you’re smacking him again.

It’s anger at this bullshit, your injury, your arm throbbing as Josh twitches against the hold you just double down on when you start laying down swats quick and hard. He could’ve killed you, and he was too damn high to realize it, to apologize, still hasn’t.

But it’s some twisted fascination, too, watching the barely-pink go hot pink, white in the beat after a blow before it blooms darker, then red. You hear the blood fizz, pop, and simmer with each shade the flesh darkens to. Ass goes slower than the thighs, more meat to them, and that reminds you that there’s something to grab so you do. Not after every swat, just to give you both a breather, and you groan when you peel your hand off each time and a five-fingered print flares white before reddening again.

"Hope you choke on those damn donuts," you groan, throaty, when you realize your aim goes off because Josh is rutting into your damn lap. "Quit moving, lemme."

He goes rigid when you grab a hot thigh and spread him open, shift him right so his cock isn’t snug against your leg, and start to stroke. Cruelly slow, but it’s not like he’s getting out of this without some discipline. But you wouldn’t exactly mind doing this again, either...

"No one’s dead, then?"

Josh yelps and finally does buck off your lap. You let him, falling in a heap with his pants still down to his knees, because you’re too busy cringing back from the circle of UV light pointed at the floor. On concrete, not too close to the steps, but you’ve had enough of that wicked light as it is.

Blade doesn’t look bothered by Josh’s undressed, red ass, or the wet spot he left on your jeans. Neither of you finished, just pre-cum, but you’re not keeping a nose or ear out to scent or hear if Josh does by accident in the scramble. You’ve got something else on your mind, that wicks away the lust and anger and drags hunger up your throat so fast you’re dizzy.

The IV bag’s tossed to you, torn into and drained in the time it takes Blade to fish out another from his bag. You hear the flashlight go off and pounce out onto concrete to burrow into the second one he gives over, then growl for the third you can smell when he doesn’t offer it.

"There a problem?"

Your growl sputters, and Josh must’ve gotten his pants back up because he draws attention to himself now. "All good, B. Just looking for some shit for the panels."

Blade doesn’t ask what shit required Josh’s nose being two inches from the lowest step, or being over your lap while he looked, but you go deaf to what they do talk about when the third bag’s thrown your way. By the time you finish, wiggling the puncture marks over your yawning mouth to get the last drop, Blade’s gone and Josh’s face wrinkles.

"Oh, now you don’t want to bother me?" you purr, all fangs, your arm hardly aching and your throat good and wet.

"Shit, dude, would table manners kill you?"

You purr louder, a chuckle, as Josh turns away and goes to hide on his couch with his TV. Close to dawn, anyway, and it’s better to have two pairs of hands for the panels. At least that’s what Josh will tell Blade, probably, if he asks why he isn’t working on it in the morning when you’re sleeping. You’re betting on Blade either calling him out, saying a sore ass doesn’t mean a day off, or just letting it slide. He’s not stranger to vampire strength, even if it’s never been applied to his ass.

Well, Josh can tell him all about it, and you wipe the blood off your face, purr throttling in a real laugh, as Josh decides to lay down on his stomach while he fumbles with the TV.

"Gonna get you back," he reminds you.

In the dim, barely-lit room, with just some cartoon to flick pale tones over the dark space, you lurk over and crawl up onto the back of the couch, balancing on your side, so you can lick your fingers clean and run them through his hair. You tune out the shitty TV to hone in on his blood, calming down, still sputtering around his warm ass. It’s white noise you lose yourself in, purring at his swears when he shifts and agitates the flesh.

#blade 2 #scud #scud x reader #male reader #vampire reader #prompt request #bingo fill

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write-ur-wrongs · 4 years

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Thank you sweet anon for your request!! Again, I didn’t fully proof-read this bad boy so please forgive the errors! I hope you enjoy some angry Jealous!Geralt!

A/N Request: Geralt meeting your ex who thinks that you're still together/or tries to get you back in front of geralt?

The great hall was alive with royals and nobility alike. Laughter and chatter mingled easily with the sound of the band’s lively jig and the soft tinkering of fine cutlery.

The hosts had expected you and Geralt to make an appearance at dusk, but neither of you were particularly fond of all the fuss royalty liked to put up, so it wasn’t until long past sunset that you joined the party. Jaskier on the other hand, was overjoyed at the prospect of attending such an illustrious affair. He’d put up a fuss around noon and insisted he be allowed to take Roach so that he could arrive in time to make a strong impression with all in attendance. Of course, Geralt had refused, so he had gone off on foot, strutting and sighing dramatically.

Now, as you and Geralt did your best to navigate the already flushed crowd, you found yourself wishing you’d arrived sooner. It was easier to avoid people when they were being stifled by a sobering social awkwardness; after hours of ales and fine wine, however, people seemed to get a little too comfortable for your liking.

“I hate these ridiculous evenings,” Geralt grumbled, holding his arms close to his body uncomfortably.

“Maybe if we saved less lives,” you said, biting back a smile, “they’d be less inclined to insist we attend.”

Geralt only responded with a grunt and a roll of his eyes, which made you laugh lightly as you looped your arm through his and led him deeper into the crowd.

“C’mon love,” you said, a slight tease to your tone, “let’s find the free food and drink we were promised, yeah?”

You laughed again as he fought back a smile. “Atta boy Geralt, don’t smile too much or you’ll ruin your reputation as the big bad wolf.”

“Will you shut up,” he muttered, handing you a goblet of wine.

“I don’t think I will,” you said downing the wine in one go, “and could you hand me an ale?”

“I don’t think I will,” he teased, kissing your temple lightly before handing you his mug to share. You take a slow sip, your eyes twinkling as you held Geralt’s gaze, already feeling the liquor warming you from the inside. You hand him back his drink and kiss him lightly in thanks.

“Do you want to –”

You were both pulled away from your conversation by a loud clang from across the room. Geralt furrowed his brows and turned towards the sound quickly, untangling his arm from yours before reaching for his sword. He immediately relaxed as the familiar shouts and accusations resounded through the hall.

You collectively sighed your frustration as you saw Jaskier get chased into a corner by an angry nobleman; no doubt his latest conquest’s husband, who was not quite as pleased to hear the bard’s dulcet tones.

“It’s your turn,” Geralt said, downing his ale before reaching for a second helping.

“I don’t think so! I’m the one who saved him from that fisherman at the last village! It’s your turn,” you said, poking him in the chest before stealing his mug and holding it away from him.

“Actually,” he said, his low gravelly voice reverberating through you as he leaned across your body to grab his drink from your hand, “it was my turn at the last village, but you just couldn’t help yourself and jumped in to save the day. Rules are rules my dove; it’s your turn.”

You scoffed incredulously at his nerve, but shook your head in resignation; he was right after all, the rules you outlined were clear and the cycling of turns was strict.

“Well fuck. I’m taking this ale though,” you said, clapping him on the shoulder before stalking off towards the commotion.

Geralt chuckled lowly and leaned against a marble pillar, marveling at the way you made your way through the crowd. A wandering waiter came by and offered him another ale which he accepts with a polite smile, not taking his eyes off you.

He loved watching you de-escalate social situations. Sometimes it was comforting to know that he wasn’t the only one who just melted when you spoke to them directly – you were effortlessly charming and completely disarming. You once managed to convince a band of attacking thieves to stand down so efficiently that by the end of the night, they ended up joining you for dinner around the fire. Yes, Geralt was the professional when it came to handling monsters, but you were the people person of the group.

Watching you now was no exception. Your body language, the way your warm smiled reached your eyes with ease, how smoothly you managed put yourself between Jaskier and the furious man; it was impressive to say the least.

Unfortunately, his attention was pulled away from you suddenly.

“I can’t believe Y/N is here tonight, I thought I’d never see her again!”

At the sound of your name, Geralt whipped his head in the direction of the speaker, cat-like eyes scanning the crowd swiftly.

“Yeah, the very same Y/N I’ve told you about. An amazing lay, I swear it!”

The man in question was holding court half a dozen other knights; they kept snickering and looking off at you in turns. They were teasing him, egging him on for details.

“She’s not as sweet as she looks,” the man stated confidently, “don’t let that smile fool you gentlemen. The last time I took her was in an alley! The little whore was mad for it – couldn’t wait for it, needed it right there and then.”

Geralt was fuming.

He pushed his way through the crowd with great force and little care. He was worried about your honour. Your reputation in the courts – that was all. That was enough to explain the way rage seethed through him and the strange urge to be sick that was hitting him in waves. He was concerned for you as a partner and a friend.

He wasn’t jealous.

“Gods her skin… smelled so good, felt even better… I’m getting her back tonight gents,” he boasted, puffing out his chest.

“You don’t have a chance,” said the knight closest to the bastard bragging about shagging you, “it’s been ages since you’ve last seen each other, and if she’s as good as you say, she definitely found someone new.”

Damn right, Geralt thought furiously, swallowing the bile bubbling at the back of his throat.

“No, no, believe me the way she mewled and screamed for me? She’ll do more than remember,” he said, disgusting confidence dripping off every word, “she’ll beg to have me back.”

You’ll beg for mercy when I crush your fucking skull you pathetic –

His murderous march was abruptly interrupted by Jaskier. The bard cut in front of him and planted himself squarely before him, chattering on incomprehensibly.

Geralt’s eyes were bugging out in panic as he watched the bastard strut confidently towards you. He tried to push past Jaskier but the bard was quick to match him in posture.

“Look I know you’re upset with me for ruining your evening but she came after me,” he insisted, “I mean I can’t blame her the song his perhaps my most romantic sonnet. Speaking of my writing – Geralt can you look at me when I am sharing my musings with you, please? Thank you – as I was saying, Y/N inspired me tonight to write this song –”

“Jaskier,” Geralt growled, “move!”

“Wha – why?” Jaskier pivoted on the spot – keeping Geralt’s path blocked – as he sought the source of his friends’ fury. When he saw that you were speaking politely to some knight he scoffed loudly before turning back.

“Oh-ho, no,” he laughed, “you’re jealous of that oaf? Geralt, seriously?”

“I am not jealous,” he spat, only able to look at Jaskier for a moment before his glare shot back up towards you.

“She’s just being polite! Seriously you always assume the worst in people, Geralt, it’s sad.”

“I see people as they are,” he muttered, watching closely as the knight took a half-step towards you, he let out a menacing growl when you didn’t step backwards. “For what they are.”

“Okay then why can’t you see that’s just some poor sap who, I don’t know, maybe wants to thank Y/N for her help in saving this kingdom.”

“Shut up, will you? I’m trying to hear what they’re saying.”

“You don’t need a Witchers’ hearing to know what’s happening over there,” he brambled on putting on voices as he acted out the conversation, “’Hi I’m Y/N’, ‘Hi I’m an unimportant but very grateful knight, pleased to meet you blah blah blah…”

“Fuck, Jaskier, shut UP –” he stopped himself when he heard your laugh, the deep full laugh you normally reserved for him.

Jaskier heard your laugh too, and turned his head to double check he’d heard right. When he saw the familiar twinkle in your eye, he looked Geralt with wide eyes.

“They know each other?” he asked.

“They,” he started, struggling to get the words out, “t-they knew each other.”

“Wait you don’t mean,” Jaskier started, connecting the dots, “that they knew each other intimately?” He wagged his fingers suggestively as he said the last word.

When Geralt’s only reply was a low, seething hum, Jaskier whistled lowly before shaking his head.

“Well that explains,” he waved his hands vaguely at Geralt, “this reaction.”

Geralt was about to shove the bard aside when he saw you waving him over. You were smiling widely as you waved, but it didn’t reach your eyes. He cleared his throat and pushed Jaskier lightly before charging towards you with the bard in tow.

“Ah, finally!” you exclaimed, swiftly wrapping your arms around his bicep, pulling him close, “Geralt, I want you to meet an old friend of mine, Hoeck. Hoeck this is Geralt, my partner,” as you spoke, you moved to loop his arm around your waist, “and this is Jaskier, he’s responsible for the wonderful music tonight.”

“The White Wolf,” said Hoek, sizing Geralt up, “wow - what an honour.”

He hummed in acknowledgement and took the knight’s hand in a tight grip, feeling immense satisfaction watching the man wince.

“And -erm, thank you sir Jaskier, for the wonderful music,” he said, trying and failing to subtly rub at his hand.

“Thank you, good sir. I speaking of, I should get back out there.” He shot you and Geralt a look and swung his lute around his back before strumming a few notes. “If you’ll excuse me.”

You all nodded to him as he strode off, beckoning the band to join him.

An awkward silence settled over the three of you. Geralt was clearly seething as he held your waist in a tighter grasp than necessary. After a beat, you shot Hoek a tight-lipped smile and made up some excuse about needing to say hello to the king and queen before the night came to a close.

“Ah certainly,” he said, disappointment obvious, “well if you ever find yourself in need of company –”

“I won’t,” you said quickly.

“She won’t,” Geralt growled, his deep voice overlapping with yours.

At that, the knight swallowed thickly and walked back towards his group with tail between his legs and his hand held close to his chest.

Once alone, you turned in Geralt’s arms and looked up at his sour face accusingly.

“Why did it take you so long to come rescue me!” you said, tugging playfully at his hair.

“Didn’t look like you wanted to be saved,” he said lowly, eyes still alight with jealousy, “and Jaskier got in my way.”

“That’s a shit excuse and a weak lie. He was all over me! It took all I had not to rip the bastard’s arms off!” you said, a nervous laugh bubbling out of you. “Gods he has some nerve.”

“Hm,” he hissed, “you’re right about that.”

“Geralt,” you looked up at him carefully and gently caressed the crease between his brows, “this is more than jealousy. What’s going on?”

Geralt hesitated before relaxing his face into your hand and took a small sigh. “It’s nothing. And I’m not jealous.”

“Mmhm,” you hummed, “Can you look at me? Please?”

Reluctantly, he brought his eyes down to meet yours.

“Thank you,” you said, cupping his face before moving your hands to rest on his chest, “can you talk to me?”

“Don’t be patronizing,” he warned.

“Don’t be obstinate,” you countered.

Geralt rolled his eyes at you before pulling you closer to him. “Maybe I was a little jealous, and maybe,” he sighed deeply, “I was a little worried.”

“Geralt,” you started, your heart breaking at the sight of him, “you have nothing to worry about when it comes to us. I need you to know that.”

“I do,” he said quietly, “but the way he was talking about you – knowing he had been with you in that way...” Geralt stopped himself as he felt his anger come roaring back at the memory. “I wanted to kill him.”

“To be honest, I wouldn’t have been upset with you if you had,” you said, jokingly, trying to lighten the mood a little. Your time with Hoek was beyond brief; he was nice enough at first but quickly he became aggressive and possessive. You couldn’t help but cringe when you looked back on your time together and you hated that your beloved witcher was letting this get to him.

“Oh, Geralt,” you murmured when you realized he wasn’t letting up, “I’m yours. Completely and unwaveringly yours.” You kissed his forehead, then his nose, and finally his lips.

He kissed you back slowly at first, but his kiss deepened as you leaned into him. Geralt pulled away just a little and rested his forehead against yours.

“Y/N… I’m – I love you so much…” he whispered, “it’s just… the things he said about you –” he started, hating himself for needing to hear your side of the story.

“Either untrue or exaggerated, that I can promise.”

“Something about an alley…?” Geralt asked, holding his breath.

“Oh ew! That was a terrible night,” you shuddered, “he was so insistent! Wouldn’t take no for an answer – Wait, what was he saying about it? Gods, maybe I’ll kill him.” Anger and humiliation burned at the back of your throat.

Seeing your visceral reaction, Geralt was immediately overcome by feelings of guilt, for making you relive the memory, relief, that your reaction was so negative, and rage, knowing that not only did this pompous ass make forceful advances on you but he always lied about it to a crowd.

Feeling the intensity of your anger radiating off you, Geralt was about to suggest that the two of you left before you did anything you’d regret when Jaskier came running through the crowd shouting that it was time to leave.

You took off running behind the bard, holding Geralt’s hand tightly as you raced down the castle’s corridors.

“Why are we running?” you shouted, a little breathless.

“I might have added a little something to our charming friend’s drink, and he might be having a very intense negative reaction to it!” he said over his shoulder.

“Oh fuck,” you breathed through fits of laughter, “Jaskier!”

“He’ll be fine! Eventually!” he added, he turned and ran backwards so he could shoot you a wink before adding, “No one messes with our girl, right Geralt?”

Geralt rolled his eyes at his friend before he ran up behind you and scooped you up bridal-style – all without breaking his stride.

“Damn right,” he said, smiling widely at Jaskier before planting a quick kiss to your temple.

#geralt of rivia #geralt fanfic #geralt x reader #geralt x y/n #the witcher #the witcher netflix #jealous!geralt #request #fanfic #fanfiction #witcher fic #witcher geralt #witcher x reader #jaskier

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hannya-writes · 3 years

Text

Your Kind

Title: Your kind

Fandom: Teen Wolf

Pairing: Derek Hale x Reader, Peter Hale x Vampire!reader?

Other Characters: Kate Argent (mentioned), Laura Hale, Cora Hale and Talia Hale (Mentioned)

Category: friendship, platonic love.

Warning: Reader is a Vampire! Young Derek, and Young Peter because that's dangerous! This all happened after Paige's Dead. Violence, hypnotism or mind control (not sure but hey!) Peter being wild, I guess this is kind of sad.

Author's note: I didn't wanted to use the common powers of vampires because cliche! And I ended up with a mix of a striga, a bat and kind of werewolf powers, If I write a part 2, maybe I'll explain what's up with my version of vampires. And no! Vampire reader is not killing anyone... Yet. Also gifs are not mine, I found them on google!

• • •

In the moment you had stepped in Beacon Hills you had know that you shouldn't stay there for a long time. You weren't welcome. There was a Werewolf pack in town and werewolves didn't like your type. Maybe because of legends, since they told that your races were supposed to be enemies. Maybe because of a bad experience with someone of your race, maybe because it was engrained in their DNA. You didn't know. You never asked.

You just stayed as far away of the Hale family as possible. It was a problem that you got stuck in classes with no one else but Derek Hale. A teenager that had smell death and blood on you. He was cautious and curious about you, sneaking on you, expecting you to blow your cover. But you didn't. You had smelled him too, he smelled like a wolf, a mix of the animal itself and the smell of forest that came with them and made normal people get scared: the smell of the unknown, of danger.

You played it cool. You were a good student, middly attractive, you spoke when others spoke to you, you were kind and relaxed, you even helped some students in what was possible. When some students decided to pick on you, you didn't reacted. Never lost the patience that had been taught to you.

Then, there was Kate. Kate loved to pick on you, mock you, call you "the new library mouse". It was her insistance on you that had made Derek pay more attention to you. He smelled your murderous instinct every time Kate was close. An truth be told, he was amazed by your self-control.

After being put in a science work with him, you finally got the chance to know each other. You two had speak to each other like civilized human beings. You had joked together, you even became friends.

He wanted, no. He needed to know. He deserved to know, you were his friend now, he wanted to tell you what he was and needed to know more about you.

— Y/n, what are you? — he directly asked you one evening after the end of school, you were the last two people in the library, the question made you uneasy. If he discovered you, his family would kill you.

— excuse me? — was your simple answer, play dumb was your way out. Your parents have told you to do that, and act as a victim if necesary.

— you are not human, I can smell you — he confronted you walking in your direction.

— I'm a human, duh — you rolled your eyes faking amusement — Smell me? — you added with a perfect tone of confusion you had rehersed — do I smell good? — that last question was pure curiousness, you had recognized every part of his scent, you knew what every change in it mean so... Had he, maybe, done the same? Was it disgusting to him because of what you were?

— what? — he was surprised by your last words and you wished earth could swallow you whole, maybe your head first since you were blushing.

— there you are, I've been look for you — just in time, Peter Hale entered the library. And if Derek smelled of danger, Peter reak of wildness and blood. That was the first time you met, and unlike Derek, Peter took the opportunity to attack like the animal he was. Probably because he knew what you were.

Peter snarled at you, showing his fangs and blue glowing eyes, his fingernails turned to claws and suddenly the whole library smelled like wolf. His transformation triggered yours, he was challenging you in the little space that was yours. So, yes. You turned, but unlike him your fingers turned longer, your fingernails became long white claws. Your skin became paler, to the point of looking like a corpse. Your usually y/e/c eyes became red like those of an Alpha werewolf but unlike them your sclera turned black. Your 4 fangs grew in an instant and a high pitch sound inaudible for humans came out of your throat.

Derek covered his ears in pain at the sound that came from you. He couldn't believe his eyes, a wave of fear made him step away from you and Peter, his instinct told him to either fight by peter side or runaway. However his body wasn't able to move.

In a complete opposite reaction Peter jumped over you, hands extended, face contorted in an angry, animalistic expression. You saw him get closer but you didn't back off, you took a stride and with your longer hands throwed him away towards one of the book shelves. He didn't expected it, he had never fought a being like you.

— Leave — you warned him standing over him, but he wasn't afraid, he was angry. He jumped to his feet and charged again at you. You stepped away from his path, making him more furious. You were faster, you got more range with your claws. He was going to loose. That's why werewolves attacked your kind in packs. They trusted in their numbers, the organization. A lonely wolf, was a dead wolf.

Peter roared at you as he once again attacked. You knew what to do to kill him, one single slash of your claws and his lower jaw would be flying in the air. He would bleed out. You could almost see it.

However, instead of killing the menace you used one of the tricks the werewolves hated the most.

— calm down — you said in a soft voice keeping the eye contact and all of his attention on you— I'm not your enemy — you got closer to the werewolf, your hand lightly touched his face.

Peter would never be able of describe the sensation that over took him at your words, it had been as if suddenly he was in heaven, and the person speaking was an angel, better! a Goddess! He loved you, he would do everything in his hands to just hear you a little more. He will kill for you, he'll ask you to order him to kill in your name. Just for that sensation of fullness, happiness. You weren't his enemy, how could you? You were everything he wanted and more.

Your scent, your voice, your light touch, even your face had Peter hypnotized. You fully wrapped the violent werewolf with your presence, and he looked at you with big warm eyes. Even you hated using that trick. It was an induced state of bliss that made people easy to manipulate.

— everything is fine — Derek heard you said softly almost in a loving way, that made him feeling somehow nervous. He knew there was something wrong and he had to do something.

— who are you? — Peter asked in a soft tone that made you feel guilty of using your power over him. You took a breathe to aswer and then froze as you felt claws against the soft skin of your neck.

Peter saw the menace, felt your hand leave his face and fury rose from his chest, he growled warning Derek. He was aware of Derek speaking to you but the words didn't make sense why was Derek telling his goddess to let him go?

— Derek, please wait — hear you say his name made him see red. You had say Derek's name but not his? How could you? How dare Derek try to take you away?

Horrified you saw the werewolf extend his hand to attack Derek, you felt Derek's claws cutting your neck as you moved to avoid that the other werewolf claws hurt Derek. You had pushed Derek to your right. As you felt the spell over Peter was broken. Blood spilled from your wound, the strong taste of iron hit your tongue as you fought to breathe. But you couldn't, not with your throat slashed, not even when you tried to stop the bleeding with your hands.

Peter saw you confused, he didn't know if he had done that. He wanted to think that he had cut your throat, but he couldn't believe it.

— no, no Y/n — Derek spoke with panic as he crawled to you horrified by what he had done. He had kill you. It was like Paige all over again. His hands pressed over your hands trying to stop the bleeding.

— that won't kill her, she is a vampire — Peter said coldly, his eyes greedily watched how you struggled, how your red eyes slowly smother. He was amazed but disappointed, you a mythical creatures, a vampire non the less were dying like a common human being. You weren't as powerful as he expected. Why weren't you healing?

— I'm sorry — derek muttered ashamed, and Peter noticed that his own hands weren't tainted with blood. Derek hands were stained in red.

— no — peter voice was filled with hate, that vampire was his prey. That little vampire was his. You were his. Derek wasn't going to be your killer. His body moved and pushed Derek away from you with a kick, his hands took yours with the intent of taking them away from your wound, but he stopped. A sensation of coldness overtook him, his eyes slowly closed with a sudden desire to sleep.

On your end, the moment his hands touched you it felt like fire, the blood stopped flowing and the wound closed in a matter of seconds. You coughed a blood and the werewolf felt by your side asleep. The tears felt from your eyes freely and after a moment you hugged yourself to get a hold of your panic. The sound of someone else crying made you sit and look at Derek sniffing, with tears in his cheeks.

— D, D... Derek? — you called him out with a gruff voice, thanks to your recently healed vocal chords. — Der, der, derek — you repeated afraid of him being hurt, the worry made you stand up and walk towards him. — did he hurt you? Derek, are you ok? —

Derek looked at you with surprise and relieve, in his face the path of tears was pretty obvious.

— y/n, you are a vampire — he wasn't asking, of course not! the other werewolf had said it as you were almost dying.

— and you a werewolf — was the only thing that crossed your mind as you saw him.

— did you... Kill my uncle? — somehow Derek didn't sound worried, you denied with your head.

— Vampires... Can heal with the help of a werewolf — you said looking down, ashamed.

— but I, I... I tried to help you and.. — He was clearly confused and you sighed, feeling the need to explain yourself

— I charmed him, that makes a bond like the one of a master and a servant. You are not my servant... You can't heal me — you hated that stupid explanation but it was the truth.

Vampires had slaved werewolves to be closer to immortality. But not all of you did that. You had never had to charm someone, it could make people go crazy. It made a big unbalance in nature, made you get closer to the beast inside.

— I don't think Uncle Peter wanted to heal you — the comment made you giggle, but it soon died out.

— I know — you looked at Derek eyes for a moment — I won't charm you Derek, you are the closer to a friend I have and I have only speak to you for like... Two weeks — you smiled with sadness, knowing that this was a goodbye — but I have to go and your uncle has to forget about me —

— you are leaving? — he asked worried and a bit angry after all he had just found out what kind of creature you were — why? —

— Derek, your family is going to kill me if they discover that I charmed your uncle — you admitted scratching your neck nervously.

— My mom wouldn't... — Derek was trying to convince you, he made you feel bad, made you want to stay.

— she's going to do it — you stood up and went to his uncle, placidly asleep, Derek followed you. — I'm a problem to solve, a burden to destroy — you kneeled by Peter's side and reached to the back of his neck with a hand.

— no, you are not — he stated as serious as a heart stroke. — you are my friend — that made you smile.

— remember that if I make your uncle become a psycho — was the last thing you said before sinking your claws in Peter.

— maybe he already is one — he joked and the funny thing: that was the last thing he remembered of that day. He couldn't remember saying goodbye to you or how he got home. His memories started again with him being home, Laura and Cora were laughing and his mother got closer with a smile and a question: "Everything ok? You seem distracted"

And he had lied to her.

• • •

So, are you Team Peter or Team Derek?

#teen wolf #fanfiction #young derek hale #derek hale x reader #darek hale #young peter Hale #peter hale x you #imagine peter hale #peter hale x reader #peter hale x y/n #derek hale x y/n #derek hale x you #imagine teen wolf

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imagine-loki · 3 years

Text

Tear You To Pieces, Chapter 8

TITLE: Tear You To Pieces CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: Chapter 8 AUTHOR: fanficshiddles ORIGINAL IMAGINE: Imagine Loki was sent to make up for his deeds by helping out The Avengers at the tower. Everyone thinks he’s changed, but he is just biding his time. He manipulates and uses someone who works there, who has a crush on him, to get exactly what he wants. RATING: M

WARNINGS FOR THIS FIC: DARK LOKI, RAPE/NON-CON, MANIPULATION, MURDER, VIOLENCE, EMOTIONAL ABUSE, KIDNAPPING