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not-neverland06 · 19 days

Note

Hey! Love your writing and love Flux!! I was hoping to request a kind of angsty/fluffy fic with the worst!wolverine where the meet her in the void and maybe Logan knew her just not very well and he’s finally letting himself open up and be close with her (likewise with reader/flux towards logan) and they get into an argument or maybe logan has a nightmare and he ends up stabbing her with his claws and maybe the aftermath of him beating himself up and sabotaging the new relationship until reader finally snaps him out of it and says it was an accident and she still loves him?? Thanks!!

mistake

Logan Howlett x fem!reader

a/n: I want to thank you for this request because I've been having the worst writer's block in the world. I was worried about having to go into another unofficial hiatus, but this made something in my brain click together and I knocked it out in two hours. my life is yours 🙏🙏 Summary: You know him. Or, you knew him. And you never blamed him for what happened in your world. It wasn't his fault that everyone you loved died and you barely escaped with your life. But you never actually thought you'd have to see him again. You don't know what to do when all these feelings resurface with his appearance.

No one truly knew who you were back in your universe. After the horrific incident at the mansion, you had run. You’d run as fast and as far as you could from the slaughter of your friends. You’d barely escaped with your life, and from the amount of blood and gore they’d left behind, most people just assumed you were dead.

It’s not like anyone cared about you. Scott, Ororo, and Jean had been the real heroes. But it didn’t matter because they were still mutants at the end of the day. It didn’t matter how many people they saved. How many lives they positively changed, no one would ever see past the fact that they were mutants.

Being one of the newer members of the recently disbanded X-Men gave you enough anonymity to get through daily life without being recognized. It did not, however, protect you from being sucked into the shit fest that is the multiverse.

You’re not sure what it is about you that just attracts bad luck. You don’t know if it’s some hidden power that’s a part of your evolution. You’re just apparently perpetually fucked. The TVA had determined that you were interfering with the proper flow of your timeline or some bullshit.

Now you’re here. Stuck in the void with nothing but decay and drunk former superheroes. If you have to watch one more Captain America ‘rally the troops’ you’re gonna kill him yourself. You’ve considered switching teams and joining Cassandra Nova at times. If only so you don’t have to deal with Johnny Storm and the rest of the dipshits.

You get along with Laura, at least. She likes to tell you about her Logan and you like to dodge her questions about yours. She doesn’t need to know that not every version of Wolverine has a golden heart and story worthy of tears. Yours was a fuck up, plain and simple, but you never thought the incident was his fault.

As much as others tried to push the blame on him. The people who raided the mansion were determined. There was no other way that day was going to end up. You’d just have one less X-Man. But people always love a martyr more than a victim.

After a couple of years, you get used to the monotony. Your days are only occasionally broken up by dodging Cassandra’s henchmen and trying not to get sucked up into the soul destroyer. Other than that, you spend your nights getting drunk with Gambit and pretending you know whatever the fuck he’s talking about.

“Laura! I managed to find some chocolate!” You run into the hideout looking for the girl. It’s rare to find good food that isn’t already a month past its expiration date. You weren’t planning on sharing the candy with her but you figured she’d smell it on you and it’s not worth the fight.

Instead, you stop short as the familiar blue and yellow uniform you’d always try to force on him comes into view. He’s stealing Gambit’s liquor and you know that’s not going to go over well. What you don’t know is why you are so sure that this is your Wolverine.

You’ve never had a Wolverine in the void. Not once. This could be any one of the hundreds of thousands of variants. But you see that look in his eye. That familiar watery gaze shows just how much he hurts, even if he doesn’t want to admit it.

“Logan?” You breathe his name out in disbelief. Bypassing the Deadpool standing nearby. You’ve dealt with enough of those in your time down here. He takes a step back, fixing you with a distrusting look.

He keeps the bottle of alcohol clutched close to his chest like he thinks you’re going to take it. You track the movement and you scoff. “Right,” you shake your head and stop short. “Of course, the only thing you care about is still getting fucking drunk.”

He glares at you, taking a step forward like he thinks it might actually intimidate you. “Do I know you, bub?” He reaches forward, probably to jab his finger in your chest. You drop your gaze to his outstretched hand and narrow your eyes.

The material of his suit fluctuates, pulling back and rippling over his arms like liquid and not spandex. He doesn’t notice the manipulation of matter until it's his skin you target. It melts off his adamantium bones and he stares down in horror.

You know he's scared because he’s watching his body dissolve but he’s not feeling any pain. You could make it hurt, but that’s not what you want. You just want to see if he’ll remember you now. If there’s anything half-decent left in that alcohol-rotted brain of his.

“Flux,” he grits your X-Man name out through his teeth like it hurts him to say it.

You nod and his skin and suit go back to normal, like you’d never tampered with it in the first place. “You do remember me, then?”

“Thought you fucking died with the rest of them.” Your face drops before you feel an astonished smile on your face.

“You know, it’s a comfort to know nothing about my world has changed. You’re still the same spineless dick that left us all to die.” You shake your head and storm out of the hideout. You don’t know how long they’re planning on staying but you pray they leave soon. If you have to deal with him longer than a week, you’ll just kill him.

You step outside just as Laura’s coming back from the bonfire. She greets you with a stiff smile and you wonder what’s got in her in a mood. It only takes a glance over her shoulder to find the reason.

Logan is sulking by the fire, nursing yet another bottle of whiskey. He’s drinking it like water and even with his healing, his liver should have turned to mush by now. “I can see why you didn’t tell me about him,” she mutters as she passes by you.

You know she tried to be quiet but you can see the way Logan’s head tilts slightly towards you. He’s heard her and you know it has to sting just a little.

You glance down at the leaves under your feet, eyes glazing over as you feel the guilt sink into your stomach. You shouldn’t feel bad, you didn’t do anything wrong. You didn’t hurt him, technically, just reminded him who you were. But you still feel bad for what you said.

You’ve never blamed Logan for what happened. And if you did, you would be a hypocrite. Because you survived too, and you left them all behind. You ran like a coward. You could never blame him when you failed to save them just the same.

You take in a deep breath and steel yourself. You’ll just apologize, walk over there, and explain to him you didn’t mean what you said. You know he’ll be a dick about it. Claiming he doesn’t want your apology. You’ll just leave him alone after.

You’re about to step forward when he barks out a gruff command, “Don’t fucking stare at me like that. I don’t want your company.” He turns back to the fire and takes another swig from his bottle.

You roll your eyes and walk towards him. “You can be as miserable and self-pitying as you want, just let me say one thing.”

His head whips towards you so quickly you’re surprised you don’t hear it snap. “I’m not fucking pitying myself,” he grits out. You quirk your brows in amusement, glancing towards the bottle in his hand and the clear way he’s sulking. He turns his attention back towards the fire, intent on ignoring you again.

“I don’t blame you for what happened,” you tell him. You ignore the warning look he shoots you, taking a seat beside him even if he doesn��t want you to. “I-” you choke on the words, struggling to admit to yourself what you’ve never wanted to.

“Don’t.” You know it’s meant to be a warning. But when you look at him and see how completely broken he is, it sounds more like a pathetic plead.

But you need to say this. As selfish as it is, you need to say this to someone., Need to unload this guilt you’ve carried for so long. “I was there, Logan. I could have saved them and I didn’t. I fucking ran.”

“Kid, don’t do this-”

“Jean was still moving,” you blurt out. You feel the way your heart speeds up at the admission. Your fingers shake and the air around you stills.

His face drops and he slowly turns towards you. You’re afraid to look at him. You feel like a bunny staring down the snout of a wolf, there’s no escaping this. You’ve created this trap for yourself.

“What?” He demands. His voice has lost that tremor of vulnerability. Instead, he sounds like he did when he first found out what had happened to you all. That same deadly level of calm that makes you want to bolt again.

“She,” you stare into the fire until your eyes burn. You don’t know if it’s from the light or the smoke but the pain focuses you. “She was shaking on the floor. There was blood everywhere and she could barely breathe. They had gassed us with something. None of us could use our powers, it’s the only reason they got a one-up on us.”

You can feel yourself slipping back into that moment. You feel the warmth of the blood on your skin. It seeps into your suit and makes the material cling to you. Your gut is split open and the only thing holding your intestines in is your hands.

Jean is in front of you. Her hands are twitching by her sides. There’s blood pouring out of her lips, dribbling down her tongue and cheeks. Every breath is a rattle so deep you feel it in your bones.

Each inhale sounds like someone dragging glass through the membrane of her lungs. Her chest rises and sinks shallowly as she gasps for air. She’s practically convulsing, eyes twitching every which way.

The gas has faded from the halls. The people have left, satisfied with the carnage. You’re alone, surrounded only by the blood and bodies of your friends. None of the others are moving. Some of them are so mangled you can’t even tell who they are anymore.

Jean’s eyes lock onto yours. The only anchor she has. And you can see it, the frantic, wounded animal gaze on her face. She knows she’s dying. She knows there’s nothing she can do about it.

You can only stand by and watch as your friend dies. You could be her comfort. You could be the last face she sees before she dies, distracting her from the sight of her dead fiancee behind her.

But what do you do?

You hold your guts in your stomach and you run. You can’t look at her. You can’t look at any of them. You can hear her croaking behind you. And even when you’re out of the mansion, when you’re in a hospital somewhere getting repaired and Logan’s on a rampage, you still hear her.

You feel something heavy on your arm and it’s like you're being forcibly dragged out of a trance. Logan’s looking at you with something you’ve never seen before. But it’s something you’ve always desperately craved.

It’s like he’s seeing you, really seeing you. For the first time in a long time, you feel that ache of guilt ease away ever so slightly. It doesn’t disappear, but you’re sharing the burden with someone else and it’s a relief you’ve desperately craved.

“You’re not a bad person for leaving, kid.” He swallows roughly and you place your hand over his. He doesn’t look completely comfortable with the touch, slightly flinching away from it, but he doesn’t move. “If you hadn’t, you would be dead.”

You squeeze his hand, forcing him to meet your gaze. “I never blamed you for what happened.” emotion is so thick on your tongue and in your throat that the words come out a whisper. “Their deaths weren’t your fault, and what happened after wasn’t.”

He clenches his eyes shut and jerks his hand out of your grip. You sigh, knowing you’ve lost him. “I slaughtered them.”

You scoff, “They slaughtered us!” You nearly shout, anger bubbling hot in your gut. When you heard about him killing those who had hunted down your friends, you’d celebrated. And when you heard the way the public was crucifying him, you realized that no matter what you did they would never love you.

You would always be nothing more than a mutant to them.

“And the people who didn’t hurt them? The innocents I killed?”

You don’t have anything to say to that. You just stand up, placing a hand on his shoulder as you pass by him. “I never blamed you, Logan.”

You don’t see Logan again after that. At least, not while you’re in the void. What was left of your little resistance was sucked up into the purple cloud of death. Only you and Laura are left with the carnage.

Logan and Wade have disappeared to who knows where. It stings, to be on your own again. Sure, you have Laura, but she’ll never understand the pain of what happened to your universe.

As much as it hurt, at least with Logan, you had someone to share the pain with. You could share your burden with him. You feel lonely and cold. Like there’s a part of you missing. You finally figure out what that ache is when the TVA comes to collect you and you see him again.

He’s standing behind Wade as he enthusiastically tells you and Larua all about his world. But you can’t take your eyes off Logan, or the tentative smile on his face. Whatever had happened during that fight with Cassandra Nova had changed him, for the better.

You smile back at him and it feels like taking a breath of fresh air after years.

Apparently, whoever this world’s Flux had been, she was fucking insanely rich. And dead, which sucked for her but was great for you and Logan.

It’s not hard for you to fake some government identities and explain that you’d been mistakenly marked as dead. It’s apparently pretty common in this universe. Superheroes are blipped out of existence all the time. You couldn’t get all of her assets as some had been liquidated, but you did get her giant ass house.

You let Logan and Laura stay with you until they decide where they want to go. It’s better than living with Wade and his coke-fiend roommate. Laura finds her groove pretty quickly, it is her world after all. But you and Logan struggle to figure out what to do with yourselves.

Neither of you has an interest in being X-Men again, and it seems like they’re not incredibly present in this world either. You also hadn’t been the best of friends, even before everything went wrong, back home.

You’re not strangers, you’re not friends, you’re that awkward place in between. Each day is another opportunity to get to know each other. The progress might be slow, but you know that you’re getting closer to something real.

It’s why you don’t feel any qualms about running into his room when you hear him shouting. You burst into his room and the door slamming against the wall isn’t even enough to wake him up.

He’s writhing around in the bed, sheets twisted around his waist while sweat beads down his forehead. The noises he’s making remind you of a wounded animal. There’s something heartbreaking about this.

He doesn’t get peace even when he’s sleeping. It makes you hurt for him. You want to smooth over the aches and pains he carries and burden yourself with them.

The thought snaps you out of your reverie and you’re shocked by the revelation. You’d been growing closer to him, but you hadn’t thought you were growing this close. You feel so strongly for him, but you’re not ready to put a name on what it is that you feel for him. You just know that right now you want to make him feel better.

You approach the bed cautiously, taking a seat beside him. The bed ripples and jolts underneath you as he tosses and turns. You place a gentle hand on his arm and shake, “Logan,” you whisper. You don’t want to startle him too bad.

But he’s not responding to anything. It doesn’t matter how much you shake him or call out his name. Finally, you can’t handle it anymore. You get on your knees, sitting over him and bringing your palm down across his face as hard as you can.

In a second he’s shooting up. You don’t even notice his hand until you see the way his vision clears. The visceral panic fades and something is aching in your gut. “Oh god, no no no,” he says the word so many times it stops sounding real.

You look down and see the blood dribbling down his palm, the claws buried in your stomach. It’s almost funny, how perfectly aligned they are with the scar that already lived there. The reminder of your friend’s death being erased and reformed by Logan’s hand.

He pulls his wrist back and you quickly snatch it up. “Don’t!” You shout, jaw clenching against the pain. “Don’t pull them out, I’ll just bleed out.”

“What the fuck am I supposed to do?” You know he’s worried, that’s why he snaps at you. But it doesn’t help the way you feel yourself fighting back tears.

He sees them drip down your cheeks and his face drops. His other hand, the one not in you, comes up and cradles your cheek. “What do I do?” He whispers, and he sounds more desperate than you do.

You know he doesn’t want another death on his hands. But there’s something beyond that. He doesn’t want to be the reason you stop breathing. There’s a startling clarity when you’re slowly dying.

He cares about you. Just as deeply as you do for him. You can’t make him go through this pain again. Can’t let him suffer alone, not when he’s made so much progress. “Slowly,” you tell him, guiding his claws out inch by inch.

It’s hard not to black out. You’d barely felt it when he’d gotten you the first time. You think it’s because of how fast and sudden it was. But this, having them oh so slowly slicing through your insides is the worst form of torture.

But you don’t heal like him. You have to close your eyes, focus on the pain, and forcibly reknit your skin back together. It’s a clever manipulation of your powers, but it’s a slow one. You could never take serious damage on the field because you wouldn’t be fast enough to repair yourself.

This is easy to repair. But that doesn’t make it hurt less. It feels like an hour before he can safely draw them the rest of the way out. The second he does, you’re sinking into his arms with a pained sob.

He clutches you so tightly to his chest you worry your back might snap. He keeps muttering apologies into your hair, hands desperately grasping at every inch of you he can hold. You’re too tired to say anything.

You realized you should have. You should have told him you don’t blame him. You were the one who snuck into his room. You should have been smarter. But it doesn’t matter how many times you tell Logan not to blame himself, he always will. And you were too tired to try anyway.

You only realize what’s happening two days after the incident. You figured he might need some space to process what happened. And honestly, you did too. It was awful and incredibly draining. You’ve felt fatigued ever since.

But when you try and approach him and he just brushes past you like you weren’t even there, you know something is wrong. You watch his retreating back with a disturbed glare. You connect the dots quickly, already knowing what he’s doing.

He doesn’t want to be responsible for hurting another person he loves. He can’t handle a loss like that again, even if it’s not by his hands. He wants to make sure you don’t want him, that you don’t care for him. Like that might ease the pain and guilt.

But it wouldn’t. It would just make him feel worse. It would make you feel worse.

You don’t waste a second, following him up the stairs and barging into his room before he can slam the door shut. It bounces off the wall and he lets out a deeply irritated sigh. He doesn’t turn to look at you, just walks over to his nightstand and rummages around through the doors.

You know he’s not looking for anything. He’s just trying to ignore you long enough for you to give up. It’s not going to happen, he should know better.

You take a step further into the room and the smell of chemicals slams into you. Your nose wrinkles in disgust. It smells like he pumped Lysol into the vents. Your eyes dart to the bed and you sigh.

Your blood, you’d completely forgotten. He must have been cleaning it up the morning after. You can’t blame him for wanting to get rid of the remainder. But this seems excessive.

“Strong nose,” he mutters. You hadn’t realized you’d spoken aloud and you glanced over at him. “I can still smell it, even after cleaning.” He takes a seat on the bed and you hate the way his shoulders are slumped.

He’d seemed so much more comfortable with himself lately. It’s like one accident has undone all his progress. “Logan,” you start, taking a step towards him. He holds his hand up, still not looking at you.

It’s driving you insane. You wish he would just meet your eyes. You feel like you could change his mind if he would just see you. Maybe that’s why he won’t. He won’t let himself be happy.

“Look, that night just made me realize what a huge fucking mistake this was.” He gets up and slides something out from under the bed. It takes a moment for you to register what it is. A duffel bag, packed with all his essentials and what little clothes he owns.

He’s going to leave.

You act without thinking. Pure panic making your powers surge out. Logan grunts and the bag falls out of his hand. “Quit it,” he snipes, bending over to pick it up. But he can’t because it’s so heavy it’s making the wooden floor splinter and crack under its weight.

“You don’t get to just leave when things get hard, Logan.”

He stands up, hands propped on his sides. There’s a challenge in his eyes that makes you nervous. “Fuck this,” he scoffs and brushes past you.

It’s beyond manipulative to use your powers against him. But sometimes, someone is such a fucking idiot, they need a little outside help. You slam the door closed and the handle disappears, locking you both in his room.

He turns towards you with a fierce glare on his face. “Open the goddamn door before I break it down.”

“You can try,” you taunt, a nasty tone to your voice. You’re sick of this. You’re sick of running from what you want. You’ve been miserable and alone for years. You want to be happy. For the first time in forever, you want something.

And you want Logan to be happy with you. You can’t force him to feel the way you do. But you can stop him from actively preventing this. “Stop acting like a goddamn child and just talk to me!” You shout at him.

There’s a disbelieving look on your face. You don’t understand why he won’t let this happen. Why does he have to fight so hard against any semblance of happiness in his life?

“I’m going to hurt you. That is all I do. I hurt the people I love and I cannot hurt you too.” Your eyes widen in shock at his outburst. Beyond anger, there was so much fear in his voice it was almost enough to make you miss what he’d said.

“You love me?” You can see the realization dawn on him. The fact that he let slip why he’s so hesitant to be around you. You know he wants to leave, his eyes are darting around the room for an escape route, but you’ve blocked them all. You can’t let this go, not now.

“Logan,” you snap, demanding an answer from him.

“Fuck you,” he mutters, something vicious on his face.

He’s going to hurt you. He’s going to lash out and say something cruel so that this doesn’t happen. You know him because you’ve been him. He will take every possible route to get out of this if it means he doesn’t have to face his feelings.

You roll your eyes and take a step forward. You jerk him towards you and throw yourself on him before he can say something stupid. The kiss is brief, just enough to snap him out of this ridiculous headspace he’s in.

When you pull back he looks dazed, but he’s relaxed in your hold, sinking towards you. You grin up at him, “I love you too, dumbass.” You lean up to kiss him again but you dart back at the last second, a mean glare on your face. “Pull some shit like this again and I’m going to melt your dick off.”

You kiss him before he can respond, but you feel the smile against your lips. You can taste the defeat on his tongue as he wraps his arms around you and tugs you into his chest. He’s not going to push you away and you’re not going to let him.

General Taglist: @evasmlp

Logan Taglist: @nonamevenus @smexy-bucky-waifu @wh1sp @peony-always @corvusmorte

@mrs-ephemeral @wolviesgirl @allllium ♡

#logan howlett x reader #logan howlett x you #logan howlett imagine #logan howlett #the worst logan x reader #wolverine x reader #wolverine x you #wolverine imagine #wolverine #deadpool and wolverine #hugh jackman #hugh jackman x reader

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blitzyn · 1 year

Text

pervert

miguel o'hara x spiderman!reader

request : none

Synopsis: A game of cat and mouse goes to shit, and you find yourself bound in Miguel's webs.

a/n -> literally nobody asked for this but he's been stuck in my mind for decades and i wanted to get something out for my bbg <3 also super sorry i disappeared again, writers block straight up bitch slapped me and left me in a ditch, plus ive been losing interest in writing for genshin or just the game in general, unfortunately.

wc -> 3.3k

cw -> very dubcon, mean dom miguel, degradation, bondage?, face fucking, google translated spanish, spit as lube, anal fingering, anal sex, slight and brief choking, (semi) public sex??, not beta read

Exhilaration filled your veins as breathy laughs escaped your throat, weaving through buildings and rubble with the precision of someone who has experienced this type of chase countless times before.

And that's because you have. You've been in a near never-ending game of cat and mouse with the esteemed Miguel O'Hara, always close enough to feel the swipe of his talons in the air but too far to catch. No matter how many times he's cornered you, you always find a way to get past him; it was predictable at this point.

That pissed Miguel off like no other, hellbent on capturing you to put an end to your snide remarks, to put you in your place. While that usually would've enticed you in any other circumstance, you weren't too keen on letting him dig his claws into you now that you were chest-deep in this predicament — and his wrath.

"Stop running, already!" he shouted, the sharp edges of fury evident in his voice.

"I'm not running!" you respond, peering back at him with a smug grin. True to your words, you, quite literally, were not running. You were swinging with the agility of a seasoned acrobat, twisting and flipping through debris while looking like you were having fun. You offered him occasional glances and nearly laughed each time. Seeing him, a grown-ass man, almost constantly on all fours was amusing, but hearing him curse and grunt and growl made electricity shoot down your spine in a way that nearly got you caught several times.

Adrenaline filled your body and threatened to burst through your chest each time you evaded him. "Missed me!" you laughed, juking away from his swipe.

"So close!" you flip over him with a taunt. "Try again next time!"

"¡Voy a matarte!¹" He growls, and it was hard to ignore the shudder that rushed through your body. You slightly winced at the feeling. If you don't get your shit together when he spoke Spanish, then you were asking to get caught.

But it's not like you'd mind — Actually, yes, you fucking would!

You click your teeth in annoyance. Despite how hard you tried, you couldn't remove Miguel from your thoughts even though he was right behind you, hunting you down like a wild animal. Your mind strayed toward his broad shoulders, beautifully tiny waist, fat ass (that you'd give a lot to slap), and the massive piece of rubble being hurled at your body.

You blink out of your stupor, feeling your senses going off rather violently. Oh shit.

Everything seemed to move painfully slow as you stared at the debris with wide eyes, noticing Miguel's red web attached to it as he brought it down. You flung your arm out in an attempt to attach your webs to something and swing away, but was unable to pull yourself fast enough as the debris pinned you down to the roof of a building.

"Fuck!" you thought as you grunted and squeezed your eyes shut, agony tearing through your entire body. Swiftly, you pushed against the ground to shove the heavy object off of you, groaning with effort. Just as you managed to stand back up, you heard the familiar thwip! of his web wrapping around your waist and arms to yank you to him.

"Caught you," he said, voice rough and breathless as he panted hard. He loomed over you menacingly, hands curled into a fist.

You struggled, kicking and straining against your binds. "Come on, Miguel." You offer a tense grin. "We both know this won't last very long."

"Ay dios míos,²" he growled, dropping to a knee to roughly press a hand on your face, his fingers digging into your cheekbones. "¡Cállate!³"

...

Woah.

You stared at him with wide eyes, feeling your cock stir in your pants. Oh fuck.

It was hard to ignore your ever growing attraction (and hard-on) for him that seemed to intensify when he deactivated the hologram of his mask. Sweat beaded at his temple while his eyes narrowed at your bound figure, fangs peeking out from behind his lips as he caught his breath.

Even when you were the target of his anger, he was still breathtakingly hot.

You opened your mouth again to shout at him — probably to let you go or something along those lines — but Miguel wasn't having it.

"Why is it so much to ask for you to keep your fucking mouth shut for once?" he hissed, squeezing your cheeks tight enough to ache, but it only went straight to your dick. "Is that all you can do? Run your mouth until someone gets sick of your shit and shuts it for you? Huh?"

You whimpered, meekly shaking your head in denial. Tightly closing your eyes, you swallowed hard and squirmed, secretly trying to will away your hard cock straining against your clothes.

"You're so annoying! Stop moving," he demanded, reflexively looking down to adjust his position over you. His eyes raked over your body for a moment before zeroing in on your erection, pausing in surprise.

...

"Oh, you pervert."

Your eyelids snapped open at his words, mortification seeping deep in your chest as you shifted your head away from him in shame. Despite everything, you could only feel yourself getting harder under his intense gaze.

"Is that why you made me chase after you?" He forced you to look at him again, your face aching at his manhandling. "Because you wanted to fulfill some dirty fantasy of yours?"

He let out a dry laugh. "You couldn't find anyone willing to satisfy that depraved urge, so you turned to me. Just how desperate are you?"

You shook your head again, letting out muffled words. He mercifully removed his hand from your mouth to allow you to speak, sliding lower to rest on your throat. "I was just playing..."

"Yeah?" He tilted his head mockingly, momentarily adjusting himself to grope your painfully stiff dick. "And this was your master plan? To get off at the face of danger? You're more of a degenerate than I thought."

"N-No, I didn't—" you moaned, reflexively bucking your hips up into his hand.

"Stop lying." He squeezed the hand around your throat just enough to force labored gasps from you. "It's stupid how you don't think I've seen the way you look at me — how you think I haven't noticed you eyefucking me."

A furious blush rises on your cheeks as your cock twitches in his hold. It doesn't go unnoticed.

He laughed again, staring at you in mock disbelief. "You're enjoying this."

And this time, you don't deny it.

"Can't say I expected anything higher from you." He rolled his eyes in exasperation and removed his hands from your throat and dick to place them on your thighs. Effortlessly, he pried them apart to slot himself in between your legs, pressing his crotch flush against your ass.

Groaning, you lifted your hips a bit in an attempt to grind on him. With a growl, he swiftly slapped a hand on your abdomen to push you back on the ground.

"Don't move," he said, glaring at you with a mix of arousal and irritation in his eyes. "I've had enough of you getting your way." He leaned forward, a wince crossing your face when he pressed some of his weight onto your stomach. "It's my turn."

"My way—?" You cut yourself off with a huff when he gave you a stern look.

A thought seemed to pique his interest when he suddenly decided to kneel beside your head. It was nigh impossible to tear your eyes away from his crotch, the area beginning to glitch with a dim, pale blue glow at the strain from his hardening cock.

"Let's put your mouth to better use." He grabbed a fistful of your hair and deactivated the hologram covering his dick. It landed on your face with a quiet slap before his hand guided it to your lips.

You hesitantly parted them, only for them to be forced open wider to make room for his cock. You let out a surprised sound at the entry, but he was entirely focused on making you take him completely.

He was gracious enough to take it slow, relishing in the sounds of your gags and sputters and every deep inhale.

"Thaaat's it," he drawled out, sighing heavily when he felt your tongue rub against the underside of the shaft. "Fuck..."

Your eyelashes fluttered as he buried your nose into his pubic hair, uncontrollably drooling over him while you sucked and licked what you could. You felt him harden in your mouth, forcing himself deeper into your throat while it tightened and spasmed.

He increased the speed of his thrusts, absentmindedly shuffling closer to your face. A shiver ran down your spine when he slithered a hand on the junction between the back of your head and neck to hold you firmly.

A garbled whine left your throat as you subconsciously jerked your hips upwards, searching for some form of relief for your aching cock. You strained against the webs around your torso and arms, utterly intoxicated with his taste, his scent, his sounds—with him.

With a groan, he shoved himself as far as he could inside your throat and held you in place, ignoring how you instinctively struggled against him. A high-pitched ring sounded through your ears as your head spun, chest tightening with the need for oxygen.

Shuddering, he finally pulled out of you, watching with satisfaction as you coughed and gasped for air. A mix of saliva and precum connected your lips and the tip of his cock, to which you quickly licked away. You let him inspect you with a hand still buried in your hair, gaze locked in on your drool slicked chin and swollen lips.

A quiet hmph left him before he turned to place himself back in-between your thighs again, this time extending his talons to tear a path in your clothes from your ass to your crotch.

"H-Hey! Hold on—" you protested and kicked his arm away from you.

"Shut up," he cut you off, swatting your foot away while grasping your painfully hard cock again. "Don't act like you don't want this."

"G-God..." you moaned, furrowing your brows as you stared at him. A squeak left your throat when he suddenly pressed your legs to your chest, a quiet ptuh! escaping his lips alongside a glob of saliva that landed on your asshole.

Retracting his talons, he let go of one of your legs to press two fingers against your hole, shoving them inside you abruptly. You winced at the sting his thick fingers made as it mixed in with the arousal that burned in your gut. He separated them in a scissoring motion, moving in and out at a pace that had you yearning for more. His fingertips brushed against spots so frustratingly close to your prostate, you were sure he was purposefully avoiding it to mess with you.

"H-Hurry up," you demanded, the ache in your balls beginning to prove to be something you could hardly handle.

He gave you a sharp look. "Tell me to hurry up again and I'm leaving you like this."

You stared at each other for a moment longer before you looked away in defeat, muttering under your breath. He ignored you and added another finger, the wet squelching blending in with your soft moans. His hard cock pressed on your thigh, and you briefly wondered how he wasn't fucking you within an inch of your life already.

Quickly enough, you were able to realize that he wanted to make you wait. He wanted to give you a hard time — just like you did to him.

"C-C'mon, Miguel." You breathlessly chuckled, straining against the webs around your torso.

"What?" He raised a brow, satisfaction seeping into his expression at your growing desperation.

You opened your mouth again when he unexpectedly jabbed his fingertips onto your prostate, sending a violent surge of electricity through your body. "Fuck!" You cried out as a spurt of precum leaked out of your dick and enlarged the wet spot on your clothes. He continued targeting the gland, refusing to let you get a word in your sentence. The coil in your abdomen tightened into an almost unbearable degree before he abruptly removed his hand from you entirely.

"God, just fuck me already!" You jerked your hips upwards in a futile search for stimulation.

"You sound just like a whore," he commented, tone full of condescension. A heat washed over your body at his words as you stared at him with wide eyes. You tensed when he leaned down, lust and mirth swirling within his red irises. "Is that all you are?"

"What?" You found yourself unable to look away from him. "N-No, I—"

He shoved his cock inside you mid-sentence, tearing a loud moan from your throat. He held your thighs to fold you in half, using his body weight to pin you down. You panted hard as you tilted your head to the side and squeezed your eyes shut. It was hard to focus on anything else but his dick filling you up so perfectly.

Miguel released a gutteral groan, grinding his hips against you. He dug his fingertips into your legs hard enough to bruise, but that was the least of his worries — not when he had you below him. After a moment that felt like an eternity, he leaned back (mercifully removing some of the pressure on your chest) and watched himself move in and out of you, pulling out almost all the way before he slammed himself back inside.

"Ohh, fuck!"

"This is what gets you — mierda⁴ — all compliant, huh?" He taunted, abdomen flexing with every thrust. "The moment you get some dick inside you, you're like a trained mutt."

You opened your eyes to weakly glare at him, to deny what he said, but the moans spilling from your lips did nothing but prove him right.

"Te gusta cuando te trato como si no fueras nada, ¿no?⁵" He leaned back down, hooking his arms around the back of your knees as he pressed his chest against yours, curling his wrists around your thighs to grip the flesh. His breath was hot and heavy against the shell of your ear, lips so close you could feel the vibrations of his voice in your ear drum. "Aren't I right, you dirty little pervert?"

"N-No! S'not right!" You cried out, the burn of his cock stretching you out mixing in with the pleasure so deliciously it was almost addicting.

"Deja de mentirte y admítelo, puta,⁶" he hissed, widening his mouth to graze a fang along your neck threateningly, which sent a shiver down your spine. "Admit it — that you're a depraved whore."

"Admit it." He emphasized each syllable with a thrust, ramming into you hard enough to fuck the breath out of your lungs.

"Shit—fuck! Oh, god!" You sobbed, arching your back into him. You nearly came at the feeling of his abdomen rubbing your aching dick. "I'm a whore! M'your whore!"

His cock throbbed fervently at your words, rewarding you with groans and grunts directly into your ear. Your ass slightly stung at the force of his thrusts as he fucked his anger into you, but neither of you cared.

"Fuuuck!" You drawled out. "Miguel, m'so close! Let — ngh, ah — Let me cum!"

"Yeah?" He cooed in your ear, gently licking the shell. "You gonna cum f'me?"

"Yes, yes—!"

"Then beg."

He stopped moving so unexpectedly that it left you disoriented for a few moments as you stupidly stared at him with wide, watery eyes. "W-What...?"

"Beg to cum," he leaned away from you to get a clearer look at your face. "I'm not repeating myself."

You took a moment to catch your breath (and secretly savor the feeling of his dick twitching inside you). "God, please, Miguel! I need it so bad. I need to cum — please let me cum! I'll be good, I promise! Fuck, Miguel, please let me cum! Please, please, please!"

The sight of the tears along your lash lines sent electricity down his spine as his breath hitched. "You'll be good?" He dryly laughed. "I don't think I believe you."

You opened your mouth in defense when he suddenly slammed himself back inside you, tearing a moan instead of words from your throat. He fucked you hard and fast and deep, grunting in a way you could only describe as animalistic.

But you loved it. You loved how he controlled your body so effortlessly, how he treated you like a cheap fuck toy. You mentally deemed all those chases worth it in the end.

The heat from less than a minute or two prior returned full force as you tilted your head back in ecstasy. You babbled out incoherent words of (what Miguel suspected to be) praise, straining against your binds once again.

You screamed out when the coil in your abdomen finally snapped, electricity shooting down your spine as your cock spurt cum underneath your clothes. You weren't able to process the stain in the fabric when you realized that he hadn't slowed down, deciding to fuck you through your orgasm to chase his own.

You stared up at him, admiring the slight flush on his cheeks, how his brows furrowed in concentration, and even his eyes that shone with disdain towards you.

You could feel his dick throbbing inside you, and you quickly realized that he was about to cum as well. The ecstasy you were granted slowly began to merge with the pain of overstimulation, but it only made the hazy bliss you were in so much better.

"Yes, yes, Miguel!" You gasped out as your legs trembled in his hold. "Cum inside me, please, I want it!"

He grunted at your words, fucking you with a few more harsh thrusts before he suddenly pulled out. It took you a moment longer than normal for you to process the uncomfortable emptiness as he let go of one of your legs to quickly jerk himself off.

"What—No! Please, Miguel!" You pleaded uselessly, wincing when he tightened his grip on your thigh and unintentionally extended his talons. They penetrated through your clothes and pierced your skin, drawing a bit of blood, but that was neither of your concern at the moment.

"Ay, solo cállate ya,⁷" he growled, releasing your thigh to press his palm against your mouth to silence you. You let out pathetic whines and whimpers, but Miguel was focused on achieving his orgasm.

With a final few strokes, he finally came with a loud groan as his cum spurt onto the floor. He angled his hips to make sure none of it landed on you, much to your obvious dismay. With a heavy sigh, he leaned back and stared at your bound body, trembling and helpless. It was satisfying to see you in such a state.

He reactivated the hologram over his softening cock before binding your legs together in a way that hid the large hole in your pants to prevent anyone from figuring out what the two of you did.

He sighed heavily and slung you over his shoulder, standing up to look around and figure out where the fuck he was.

"You have a really nice ass," you commented after a moment, unable to keep your compliments to yourself.

He groaned. It was gonna be a long trip back to HQ.

Translations:

1: "I'm going to kill you!"

2: "Oh my god."

3: "Shut up!"

4: "Shit..."

5: "You like it when I treat you like you're nothing, don't you?"

6: "Stop lying to yourself and admit it."

7: "Oh, just shut up already."

cross-posted on ao3

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ellecdc · 18 days

Note

It's always Grumpy! Regulus who is soft just for reader, but what about about Sunshine!reader who is grumpy just for him 🥺

I broke one of my cardinal rules for this fic; I made the reader *pauses for dramatic affect*.... a Lupin ✊😔 this was such a cute idea though hahaha I love sunshine reader trying so hard to be a grump [also struggling a litttttllllleeeee bit with some writers block so please let me know if anything feels awkward - idk how to feel about my writing right now!]

Regulus Black x Lupin!reader who is the sunshine to his clouds [922 words]

p1 // p2

CW: talking about wringing someone's neck out, siblings

Remus was interrupted from his reading by his boyfriend psst-ing across a few tables in an attempt to garner your attention.

“Hey! Trouble!” He whisper-shouted, causing you to look up with an arched eyebrow, though you still had your ever present smile adorning your face.

“Blink twice if you need help, okay?” Sirius continued, earning him a good natured roll of your eyes.

“I’m fine, Pads; there’s no need to worry.” You responded at regular volume, causing Sirius to look around suspiciously as if he didn’t trust the very few patrons of this section of the library - none of which were paying the three of you any mind - with this information.

“Listen, I love my brother as much as the next person, but- I mean, really? A Black? Surely you can do better.” Sirius informed you solemnly.

“Sirius…are you saying that my brother can do better, too?”

Sirius nodded quickly, apparently happy that you were finally getting it. “Yes! That’s why I sunk my claws into him early, he can’t escape me now; we basically live together and share all of our friends.”

Remus lowered his book to give his boyfriend a sideways glance, whilst you just continued beaming at him.

Though he didn’t necessarily approve of the way Sirius was going about his questioning, Remus couldn’t help but sort of agree with Sirius. Not that you could do better, per se, but that the pairing of you - the youngest Lupin - and Regulus - the youngest Black - made absolutely no sense.

Remus was happy for you, both of you, really! He wasn’t the kind of older brother that was rearing to fight any and all of your potential suitors; he wanted you to be happy, and if it was Regulus Black who made you happy, then he was more than happy for it.

But that didn’t mean he understood it.

Were he and Sirius quite different from one another? Sure.

Where Sirius was all hard edges and brashness, Remus was careful and exuded gentleness. Where Sirius was black clothes and flashy smiles, Remus was oversized jumpers and quiet remarks. Where Sirius was collected and suave, Remus was awkward and understated.

But for all that was completely opposite between the two of them, they had nearly just as much in common.

They both loved the same kind of music, they both loved pranking, they both loved a good house party, and they both loved their younger siblings.

But one would be hard pressed to find any similarity between the two of you.

Regulus was all quiet stoicism with a moody persona, while you were eager and effervescent. Regulus was snide and, well, kind of rude, while you were generous and compassionate. Regulus was gloomy, while you were all sun.

Remus wasn’t sure you even had a negative bone in your body; you’d been disturbingly sweet growing up (as a big brother, he was always looking for reasons to despise you only to come up empty) and he couldn’t imagine how someone as bitter as Regulus could find his way in your orbit, nor you into his.

Yet with this, Regulus came hustling into the library muttering something under his breath as he let his bag fall to the table with a loud thunk.

Sirius and Remus shared a concerned and slightly uneasy look, while you seemed to sit up impossibly straighter; Remus was certain that if you were a dog that your tail would be wagging.

“He is such a git.” Regulus hissed as his arse finally hit the seat, and your mouth opened comically as you leaned over the table as if vying for a secret.

“Who!?” You asked earnestly, your warm eyes searching Regulus’ cool ones for any clues.

“Sodding McLaggen! Thinks he’s Merlin’s gift to the entire wizarding world or something.”

“Bastard.” You muttered in camaraderie, and both Remus and Sirius reared their heads back at the use of such language coming from their kind and sweet little sister (and sister-in-law, as Sirius already calls you).

“I could’ve wrung his neck out, I swear.” Regulus continued as he pulled his books out of his bag and you quickly made room on your table for him to spread his homework out too.

“What was stopping you?” You asked him, and Remus and Sirius both looked at each other with furrowed brows as if saying “are you hearing this!?”

“I didn’t think you’d be particularly happy should I miss our study date in order to attend detention with the likes of Potter.” He muttered, ensuring the sneer James’ surname as if it were a dirty word.

Your eyes flit over to Remus and Sirius and they could see the laughter in them as you tried to keep your lips in their dutiful downturned-ness.

“Well, it would have been a noble reason I suppose.”

Regulus made a sound somewhere between a hum of acknowledgement and a groan as he ran a hand through his hair.

“Don’t worry, Reg; I’m sure McLaggen will be a wanker again tomorrow. You can wring his neck out then.” You assured him whilst looking down at your book, but as you lifted your hand to turn a page, Regulus’ hand quickly enveloped yours and brought it to his lips.

“Je t’aime, mon étoile.” He murmured into your knuckles, and your grumpy persona was gone so quickly that Remus wondered if it was ever there to begin with, and you were left instead with a (far more natural) beaming smile.

Sirius made a theatrical gagging sound, but Remus couldn’t help but smile; perhaps the two of you made more sense than he thought.

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zombieplaygrounds · 2 months

Text

Desperately trying to claw my way out of a writer's block </3

fluff with your roommate

"You look like shit," You mur through a stifled laugh, arms crossed over your chest as you stepped aside, letting Simon in. He was your roommate of about four years, you knew a little and a lot about him - more than most less than others. One thing that hadn't changed since the day you met him was the cluster of bruises and scars he'd newly have every time he came home from a lengthy work trip. Simon grumbled softly, dropping a duffle bag on the floor and ditching his suitcase. "Smell like it too." You laughed quietly at his gruff voice. He was such a brooding man, always grouchy looking with a stern scowl painted on his face. You shut the door behind him and pushed the luggage away with your foot. Your arms crossing. "You hungry?" Your words met with a growling hum in affirmation. You walked toward the kitchen, grabbing a clean rag and and wetting it slightly with warm sink water. Hissing a bit as the water stung you, earning a glance from Simon. Regardless of his confused stare you turned to face him and pressed the dirty rag against his face, wiping away some sweat and dirt. "Mm, they don't let you shower or something?" You giggled at your own words, the big brute stiffening at your touch before slowly grabbing your wrist. "I was rushin'" What was he? A child? You snickered at the thought, a smug look on your face as he let you wipe him clean. His calloused hand brushing your smooth forearm gently. His eyes staring down at you with a dead eyed look. Were his lashes always this long? You tutted your head to the side and smiled, "What's that look for?" "M'hungry." Simon softy grumbled, slowly taking the rag from your hand with his freehand. His lips pressed against your now bare hand, eye lids fluttering shut and your fingers lightly curling in surprise. He couldn't help but smirk just a bit at that reaction - your soft gasp, stumble back against the counter. You hadn't been touched in awhile. "What was that for..?" You softly grumbled, tugging your hand away from his mouth, but he kept it there, gently pressing another kiss to your soft skin. "Just gimme a min.." You hesitated for a moment, your mind feeling a bit confused at the sudden affection, but you slowly eased up, your freehand running your fingers along his arm. Touching the toned muscles that trembled and flexed at your touch. Simon slowly slump to sink into your shoulder, inhaling your scent with a low sigh. He smelt a bit like a cat - oddly enough. Dust, the sun, Earth. The thought of it relaxed you, your face dipping in his own shoulder. Your scent was the opposite of his. Something sweet, maybe a bit fruity, but also carrying the scent of whatever dinner you left warming in the stove for the night. You always whined about how the flavors settled better that way. And he whined that you were crazy. A shared embrace, his fingers digging into your shirt lightly tugging the fabric to watch it cling back to your body, your heart beats filling the empty space in either ones chest. This was nice; something you think to yourself when Simon suddenly pulls away gently patting your head, back to grumbling, "Gonna go for a wash." He walks off, leaving you stunned, perplexed, and lamenting the warmth that hugged your body just moments ago. You smell your shirt where his scent had stuck to - so warm. Your arms wrap around yourself as you leaned against the counter. A singular thought draping across your mind, "What was that?"

#zombieplayground #zombieplaygrounds #simon mw #simon x reader #cod simon #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #simon riley x you #simon ghost x reader #ghost x you #ghost fanfic #ghost fanfiction #ghost cod #cod fluff #cod drabble

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rinneverse · 2 months

Text

࿐ ♡ ˚ . 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐦𝐞? — 𝒔𝒂𝒕𝒐𝒓𝒖 𝒈𝒐𝒋𝒐. ˒ ⊹

gojo pleads for your forgiveness the only way he knows how: making his baby feel good ♡

cw fem!reader / pet names used; baby, babydoll, princess, sweet girl / fingering / big dick gojo </3 / a crumb of unprotected sex (wrap it b4 u tap it!!) / groping / just a quick little drabble to get back into the swing of things :3 NSFW CONTENT AHEAD, MINORS DNI

love, oak! hiiiiiii....... been awhile since i've posted any writing........... i've kind of been in the trenches w/ writers block !! and lowkey, i still am u_u. the only way i've been working through it is by writing little gifts for mooties !! lex, if u see this, yes this is one i've sent to u HAHAHA

"baby, you're really hurtin' my feelings here."

"hmph."

satoru frowns, pulling you further onto his lap. his broad hands cup the fat of your ass, teasingly squeezing. you bat at his shoulders and pout up at him.

"c'mon, baby," he coos. "what did 'toru do this time?

huffing, you turn your head away from him.

satoru clicks his tongue. "okay, if my baby won't talk to me, i'll just apologize in a different way. how's that sound?" he accompanies his words with a sinful roll of his hips, the bulge of his cock pressing against the thin fabric of your panties.

(satoru just loves when you wear skirts; not only do you look so cute in them, but the easy access is just such a bonus!)

"'toru," you hiss, hands clamping on his shoulders, you try to push him away to no avail - his grip on you is unforgiving and relentless. his hands grip your ass, pushing and pulling you against his hard-on to his whims. his slacks and your panties were the only barriers left and satoru was quite keen on getting rid of them.

"c'mon, babydoll," satoru grins at you, boyishly charming. "let me make you feel good. toru'll make it all feel better, yeah?"

disarmed by his sweet smile, or perhaps the way his blue eyes glimmer with want as he watches you keenly, you seem to crumble in his arms. just like that, you're putty in his hands, no longer fighting him as he pulls your panties to the side.

"m'kay," you sigh, running your hands over the hard plane of his chest. "you promise?"

"i promise."

he gives your ass another squeeze before he trails his hand along your hips, then down to the apex of your hips. he drags a calloused finger along your wet heat, circling your clit teasingly before he brings it lower and dips it into your hole.

you inhale sharply as he fingers you slowly, achingly, pulling you to the precipice but not quite letting you fall over. he only lets this go on for a little bit, at least until you're crying and begging for him to fill you up.

"alright princess, i won't tease you too much. c'mere, give me a kiss?"

and you obey, lips slotting to his in a messy kiss. his tongue slips into your mouth as you hear the telltale sound of a zipper being undone, fabric rustling as he pushes his boxers and slacks down just enough to free his cock.

he nips at your lower lip as he guides you to raise your hips. satoru's dick errs the side of too big; that's why he has to make sure you're soaking wet and ready to take him. so he pulls away only momentarily to smile up at you before he spits in his hand and fists his cock - he's sure you're wet enough to take him, but he likes to be thorough.

once he's satisfied, he guides the leaking tip of his cock through your sticky folds, slick with desire and aching all just for him. and when you're clawing at his shoulders, begging for him to just fuck you already, he chuckles deeply and finally, finally, he sinks into you.

and just like always, it feels world-shattering. he fills you up just right, pleasure erring just on the right side of pain as he stretches you out, pelvis flush to the apex of your thighs as he holds you there, letting you adjust.

you sniffle, looking up at satoru with that doe-eyed stare that he just can't get enough of. the thought that only you can feel satoru in this way - the only person he'll ever let feel him this way, you think - is enough to make the coil in your gut twist further. he raises an eyebrow at you, pressing kisses to your eyelids, kissing away the tears of pleasure that gather there.

"i haven't even started moving you yet, sweet girl. you're clenchin' so nicely around me. feel good? do you forgive me yet?"

"mhm," you sigh out, rocking your hips. his broad hands hold you steady, not allowing for much movement. when you nod your head up at him, pouting with those kiss-bruised lips of yours, he can't help but grin further and press his lips to yours again.

satoru is sure to make you feel him in every way possible; after all, it's the only proper way to earn your forgiveness ♡.

please don't repost on other platforms. rbs and comments are super appreciated ♡ !! @houseofsolisoccasum + @interstellar-inn

#☆ oakie writes #satoru gojo x reader #satoru gojo smut #gojo x reader #gojo smut #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru smut #꩜— interstellar communications

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sh1-n0bu · 2 years

Note

You ever wonder about scara jerking himself off while you abuse his hole?

Just thinkin' ;)

♡︎ 𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙠 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙞𝙩 ♡︎

characters: sub!scaramouche x nb!dom!reader

warnings: rough sex, creampie, overstimulation, dacryphillia, brat taming, mirror sex, cock can be interpreted as strap on - anything that’s comfy for u guys

notes: a biiiittt different than your og req but still the same thing, just a different tone. i hope you like the recipe! also it has been a while since i visited the sub genshin tags. hello my little horny goblins! have y’all missed me?/jk jk

what’s this???? nobu finishing up another req after publishing another one last night???? has she finally defeated writer’s block?????

“shlo-OOOUH! shlowerrrh~! [nam-] ca-aahnt!♡︎♡︎” letting out a guttural sob, scaramouche squirted all over his stomach again. he was being a little shit for the entire week - ruining your perfectly made cake, throwing tantrums like a kid, cussing you out when you forgot to give him his usual goodbye kisses before leaving for work. the list goes on and on.

and now when he’s met the consequences of his own actions he’s telling you to be gentle? after ruining the hard work you put in your cake’s icing? in his dreams.

the short man let out another choked scream when your cock hit his oversensitive prostate again, the plush soft muscle getting abused over and over ruthlessly by the tip of your cock repeatedly hitting them, clawing at your back with his blunt nails in a pathetic attempt to at least try and get you to slow down so he can properly breathe.

and it seems like his prayers were answered when you slowed down before stopping, the bruises formed by your hands’ rough grip on his waist making him let out a whine at the feeling, the bleeding bite marks left by your teeth still stinging so deliciously. the brat let out another whine when you pulled out of his hole, your cum flowing out of his loose hole and running down his plushy, hickey covered shaking thighs.

unfortunately the brat’s wishes didn’t last long when you manhandled his tiny body, turning him over with his back to your chest - looking straight at the full body mirror propped against the wall. everything looked so lecherous - from the sticky cum covering the insides of his thighs, the dark and blue hickeys on his neck and chest to the remains of his own fluids covering his tummy.

gosh scaramouche was completely ruined.

“[n-name] plea-ashee… n-no mowree~ sensitiIIGGH!!♡︎“ a shrill sound resembling a squeal left his lips when you slammed yourself all the way until the hilt back into him once more. small hands clenching and flexing, seemingly trying to grab ahold of something to try and get his fucked silly mind together again.

“‘m getting a bit tired kuni. so you gotta do some of the work too” guiding his one hand to his swollen, angry red cock you silently commanded him to stroke himself - which scaramouche understood. sloppily running his hand up and down on his cock, rubbing the slit wet precum filled tip with his thumb your sweet dumb boy just couldn’t help but let out another wail when you hooked your hands under his shaking legs and slammed him down to the rhythm of his strokes.

understanding the situation as much as his mushy brain could comprehend, scaramouche jerked himself off at a faster pace. hands stuttering with his tear stained eyes and flushed face looking directly at the mirror, the puppet could easily see your cock slipping in and out of his pink hole over and over. he was so tired - his tiny cock only managing to spill a small amount of cum as he spasmed through another orgasm yet you still didn’t stop.

after all someone’s gotta teach him how to stop being a brat right?♡︎

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loveisanimaginarydagger3000 · 2 months

Text

I Kissed The Scars On Her Skin

Natasha X Reader

Inspired by the lyrics ‘I kissed the scars on her skin, I still think you’re beautiful’ from the song A Match Into Water by Pierce The Veil.

Chapter warnings/Tags: Mentions of objectification/sexualisation, Brief Reference to Natasha’s past and unwanted sexual experiences, talks of body image, Insecurities and anxiety about body image, comfort, fluff (?)

Word Count- 2.6k

I wrote this to try and get out of my writer's block and it's not worked 🫠

Please read the warnings/tags before reading.

Masterlist

Staring ahead at the mirror in the corner of the room, emerald green intently stared at her reflection, observing every inch of her bare body that was on display, wet, red curls clinging to her body as she simply stood in front of the mirror, her usually playful green corrupted into disgust. Hurt, regret and shame crawled down her spine as her gaze flickered from one body feature to another, a lump clawing its way into her throat as pain creeped onto her face as she continued to stare, every second passing only amplifying the whirlwind of emotions flooding through her.

Natasha couldn’t stop the negative and despondent trail her thoughts drifted down as she looked at herself properly, nausea stirring deep within her. She didn’t see herself staring back at her, all she could see was an object, a tool she used to get the mission done, no matter what it took. She didn’t see someone soft or beautiful, someone you’d want to spend hours admiring because they were so pretty and delicate, all she could see was something… to be used. She was sexy and seductive, she wasn’t someone who was tender or gentle. She wasn’t someone lovable, she was something to be utilised for a mission.

Her eyes glossed over as she continued to berate her body, objectifying it herself as everyone else had done to her as she stared and ogled at her own body, trying to persuade herself there was something more to her than her looks. Her teeth anxiously bit down on her lower lip to stop it trembling as she failed to convince herself of anything positive, a stray tear managing to escape her when her gaze settled on one of the many scars that littered her body from her past.

The haunting memories of her past desperately tried to gnaw away at her thoughts but she didn’t pay them any attention as she was too focused on drowning in her other thoughts, drowning in the onslaught of doubts and insecurities eating away at her. She was a weapon and a killer. That’s all she was and all she was ever going to be.

The sound of keys twisting in the door made her aware of your arrival, the redhead not bothering to cover herself up as she assumed you would be happy to see her completely exposed, everyone else would. God, what did you even see in her? Was she just a good fuck? Is that why you hadn’t left her yet?

“Hey, you’re never going to believe what Sam did on the mission-“ You chuckled out as you opened the bedroom door, your eyes widening in surprise at the sight of her body, a smile naturally tugging at your lips before your gaze met her green in the reflection, the sheer amount of emotion swirling in them immediately filling you with concern, your face dropping into worry. “What’s wrong?” You ask softly as you carefully place your bag down on the floor, making your way gradually over to her body, watching her reaction as you approach your girlfriend.

“When you look at me, what do you see?” Her tone was laced with hurt as your brows furrow, your eyes trained on hers in the reflection as you move to stand next to her, being respectful and keeping your gaze locked on those eyes you fell so deeply for.

“I see the most beautiful woman in the world,” you whisper, your voice dripping with care and honesty as you watch her reaction, pain flashing across her face and causing confusion to wash across yours.

“No, no you don’t,” she mutters, lifting her hand to wipe away the tears lingering on her cheeks, brushing it away roughly as she hates crying, she hates showing any sign of weakness. “I’m not beautiful, I’m…I’m disgusting,” she mumbles, your face instantly reacting to her words, disbelief engraved on it as you take another step closer to her body, trying to think of a way to convince her that she wasn’t, she was more than what they made her.

“Nat,” you whisper softly as she stares ahead at the mirror, avoiding your gaze in the reflection as she tries to blink back the tears brimming in her eyes. “Natasha, look at me,” you murmur affectionately, waiting patiently for her to muster the courage to look at your loving and tender gaze, her mesmerising green eventually flickering over to your soft gaze. “Do you trust me?” your voice was barely above a whisper as your mouth moved near the shell of her ear, waiting for her consent before trying to show her how wrong she was.

She was beautiful, not because of her body but because of her heart. Despite everything she thought about herself, she was a kind, loving, and amazing woman, she was someone who managed to steal your heart without even trying. She was everything to you, and you needed her to know that.

When she nods, you show her your hands in the reflection, signalling to her you wanted to touch her before waiting for her to nod again, your hands gently moving to caress her waist when she was ready. Your warm touch felt odd against her skin momentarily, the sheer tenderness and care you managed to put into it made her heart flutter as you kept your gaze on her face, gauging her reactions carefully. It was almost overwhelming to feel so appreciated and seen by you, your hands moving against her soft skin slowly, your fingers moving over every inch of her body in an adoring way, not a hint of lust or desire present in your touch as you explored her body, slowly warming her cold body up.

“Do you know why I said I think you’re the most beautiful woman in the world?” you murmur as you place a delicate kiss to her bare shoulder, the kiss so innocent and affectionate it almost makes Natasha tear up from the loving blooming within her as you close your eyes, almost lost in your admiration for her. “Because there’s not a single part of you I don’t adore, I love all of you Natasha, not just your body,” you whisper, your warm breath tickling her skin as you kiss her shoulder blade, letting your lips ghost over a small scar you knew haunted her.

You kissed over the scar with as much love as possible, trying to sooth her worries about the physical scar as well as trying to comfort the mental scars that littered her, the feeling of their rough, forceful hands still invading her thoughts from time to time.

You can hear her exhale a shaky breath at your words and actions, her body slowly relaxing further into your touch as you move to glide your hands down her toned arms, propping your head on her shoulder as your mouth ghosted her ear again, watching her reaction to your touch as she lets her eyes flutter shut, trying to engrave the memory of your touch into her mind forever.

“Do you know why I love your hands?” You mumble softly, a smile tugging at your lips as she shakes her head, too scared to speak and ruin the tranquil atmosphere that’s wrapped around the two of you, wanting to let the world fade away. “I love the way you run your fingers through my hair when we cuddle,” you whisper, trying to list all the unique things she does that you adore, trying to express to her your undying love, needing her to realise how much you care about her. “I love how gentle they are when I let you braid my hair, the way you twirl your pen between them in debrief meetings, that when you get anxious you trace the lines on your palms,” you mimic the movement with your own fingers, dragging the tips of your fingers across her hand before up and along her forearm until you move them back to her waist to rest there for a moment, letting everything sink in for a moment before you continue.

“Do you know why I love your shoulders and back?” you ask quietly, letting your fingers trace her spine almost intimately as your body ghosts behind hers, her body subconsciously leaning back further against you, seeking your warmth and comfort. “Because despite carrying the world on your shoulders, you make time for others, you care for everyone else,” you whisper, “But most importantly, you let me take care of you, which I know was something difficult for you to start with. I love how now you let me run my fingers up and down your back because you know I love watching you relax,” your let your thumb gently press into a spot on her back, knowing it was her weak spot and watching as her body crumbles apart at your touch, relaxing instantly into your arms as your hands move to snake around her waist, letting her sink into your embrace.

You hold her for as long as you think she needs it, her eyes still closed as she focuses on the feeling of your steady heartbeat behind her, ears listening attentively to your calm breaths as you embrace her, smiling fondly at her reflection as the disgust on her features dissipated into shyness and love, the suffocating spiral she was trapped in easing it’s grip as your words lured her out of her dark thoughts.

Only when she was ready, did you move away from the embrace, moving around her body to face her, your lips pressing delicately against her forehead to make the corner of her lips lift up that little bit more before you slowly kiss down her body in an appreciative way, trying to express your love for her as you kneel before her, almost as if you were worshipping her.

“Do you know why I love this scar?” you whisper ever so gently, her head tilting to look at you as you peer up at her, honesty overflowing from your eyes as she struggles to process how you could love the old wound on her lower abdomen. “It shows how strong you are,” you mumble as you kiss the scars on her skin, “It shows that you are a good person, Natasha. You saved that man’s life, you risked yours just so he could go home to see his children, I think that’s something to admire and love.”

“Y/n,” she murmurs out but you kiss near the scar again, her hands naturally moving to thread through your hair, wanting to feel closer to you as she lets you continue praising her body.

“I’m not finished,” you mumble playfully, not letting her disagree with your words. “I also love how if I let my fingers brush over the spot above it…” you chuckle out, knowing she was some reason ticklish there, a soft laugh escaping her as her body jerks at the funny sensation, your hands settling at her hips to show you weren’t going to tickle her again. “I get to hear that angelic laughter,” you whisper with a cocky smile, her eyes rolling as she looks down at you, unable to stop the smile breaking out on her face, your comforting words a safety boat coming to save her from the sea of doubts and insecurities.

“That was mean,” she grumbles, scratching your scalp softly as you lean against her body, smiling up at her with nothing but love in your eyes.

“It still made you smile,” you say whilst kissing the spot you had just tickled, your hands moving down to her legs, deciding to compliment one more part of her body, having a feeling your plan had already seemed to have worked. “Do you know why I love your legs?” You hum out, looking up at her and noticing the small hint of mirth in her eyes.

“Why?” She murmurs in a tender tone, your lips peppering a few soft kisses against the soft skin and her tone muscles.

“I love how you wrap them around my body to pull me closer when we cuddle,” you whisper, knowing that, especially when she was tired, she’d throw her leg over your body and slide you closer to her, needing to feel you completely pressed up against her to sleep comfortably. “Or when you use them to trap me to the bed playfully, trying to prove that you could beat me in a sparring match,” you tease, knowing full well she’d kick your ass if you spared against her. You chuckle as you watch her brow raise at your words, her smile endearing as she gets lost in your enamoured gaze, her heart unable to cope with the amount of love pumping through it.

Gradually, you push yourself back up to your feet and let your arms snake around her waist, pulling her body closer to yours as she keeps her eyes on you, trying her best to express how grateful she was to have you in her life, to have you push away all those negative thoughts and clear the fog of anxiety that would cloud her mind.

“You’re beautiful, Natasha,” you whisper, not hiding an ounce of your love for her in your tone, the soft look in your eyes turning serious as you need her to know you mean it. “There’s nothing you could do that would make me think otherwise. I love you, I always will.”

“I love you too,” she murmurs back affectionately, kissing your lips innocently, not wanting anything to escalate as she simply wanted to be with you, to feel loved and cared for. You let her face rest at the crook of your neck as you try to slide your jacket off to cover her body, noticing how she shivered slightly at the gentle breeze that filtered through the room from the window. You let her take as long as she needed in your embrace, only parting when she moved first, deciding to warm herself up by slipping under the covers of your bed as she watched you sit on the edge of the bed, taking off your boots tiredly. “I’m sorry,” she mumbles after a moment, realising that you had just gotten back from a long mission, exhaustion evident in your features as she observes you, your head instantly turning at her apology.

“You have nothing to be sorry about,” your tone is quiet as you kiss her forehead, letting your hand cup her cheek and thumb brush over the smooth skin. “I’m here for you, no matter what,” your tone conveys your care for her as you kiss her once more, swiftly taking the rest of your clothes off so you could join her in bed, letting your bare bodies press into each other so you could both get lost in a tranquil moment between lovers, gazing into each others eyes.

“Thank you for loving me,” she whispers after a little white, your lips stretching into a soft smile, your head tilting to look at her as she hugs your side, her leg slotted between yours like she always did.

“Thank you for giving me the chance to,” your words are soft as you hold the intimate stare, her cheeks tinting pink before she lets her face press further against your body, trying to hide the sudden shyness consuming her as well as giving into her body’s desire for sleep, the tormenting thoughts from earlier draining her. “Goodnight Nat,” you whisper once you could tell she was drifting off to sleep, your lips pressing one final kiss to her hair before letting your own eyes close, content with being in the arms of your lover.

#marvel fanfiction #natasha fanfic #natasha romanov #natasha romanoff fanart #natasha #natahsa romanoff #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff x reader #i kissed the scars on her skin #body image #insecurity #light angst #hurt/comfort

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httpsobi · 7 months

Text

YOU...YOU CAN DO THAT? “a spider-reader x team"

WARNINGS/TAGS + sfw, they/them (gender neutral) reader addressed as spider cause if you can't tell i'm very creative, inspired by miles morales spiderman cause hes my fav, no beta we die like aunts and uncles in spiderman movies/comics, canon-typical violence (not heavily detailed).

A/N + to the anon who requested this nearly a year ago, i'm so sorry pookie the writer block put me in a author coma of sorts. despite this being a year late and trash, i hope you enjoy regardless, and i'm hoping to get more active with my writing again! enjoyyyyyy!

REQUEST + "Oops here I am again (the same anon who requested a reader with spider like abilities).. I forgot to specify 😭 but like maybe could you do idk a first meeting between the YJ and the reader (they/them btw)? Would they be creeped out with the readers' abilities or would it go like 'oh wooooow. Show us how it works!'?"

KF & AQ "Kid!" Kid Flash turns to Spider as he sprints across the buildings adjacent to them. They struggle to match his pace, but as he slows to stick his landing, they manage to catch up and yell at a simple instruction that nearly has him freezing in his tracks out of horror.

"Jump!"

"What?" They flinch at the loud screech that pierces through their earpiece. "No way- are you crazy?!"

"Just-"

Their eyes widen as they watch the monster they've been trying to lead away from the populated city centre leaps into the air behind him.

"-do it!"

Kid Flash hesitates for a moment, they can see it on his face, ready to ignore their request when the creature lets out a rumbling roar.

The ground shakes under his feet as the monstrous thing lands on the building behind him and his face drops into a comical expression.

He spares it a glance over his shoulder, and with its claws reaching out from him, he takes the leap, narrowly avoiding the sharp nails, but as he flails around in the air, weightless, he wonders-

does he really prefer concrete over nails?

He shuts his eyes, readying himself from an impact that- never comes. Rather, there's something sticking to his stomach before he's being yanked to the side, and then- up.

Instead of the smack of concrete, he hits a person, their arms wrapped around him as they roll both of them through the force.

Kid Flash, finally, shoots up and opens his eyes.

Spider and Kid Flash are sat on their asses with matching shellshocked looks, staring down at the building across of them, where that beast shares a similarly confused look as it watches the street below them.

The two turn to blink at each other, shuffling to their feet as they let out joyous cheers that sound almost like screams (poor Kaldur's ears can testify), arms wrapped around each other as they jump with like two middle aged men who's football team just scored the final point.

"Dude, we did that!"

"Right?! I thought I was gonna fall to my death but then you just-!"

"I didn't even know how I did that! It was sheer animal instinct-"

Needless to say, Kaldur was less than happy, and no more "jumping-off-the-building-and-praying" was permitted or attempted.

Not around Kaldur anyway.

ART & SUP Superboy fails to punch through it, the cage simply folding and stretching around his fist before it pushes him, his shoulder bumping into Artemis'.

"Are we stuck in here until Robin gets back?" Artemis asks with a irritated sigh, turning to look at Spider.

They seem mystified, a mischievous glint in their eyes that she can make out through the big cartoonish eyes of the mask as they take in the strange cage.

Their hands press against the cage, palm flat as they give it a little experimental shove before she can make out their eyebrows rising.

Their palms start to spark, and the red hue of the cage begins to light up a pale blue, "Nope."

The crackles of electricity grow louder and Artemis and Superboy step back just as an awful cracking sounds and-

The cage bursts around them, Spider's sent flying back into Artemis, who's then sent back into Superboy and the three hit the floor with matching grunts.

There's a moment of silence, before Artemis is shoving Spider off of her and rolling off of Superboy herself. As the three sit themselves up slowly, Artemis can make out Spider nodding to themselves with what she thinks is pride.

"I didn't know you could do that." Superboy comments plainly as the three slowly get back to their feet.

Blinking at him, Spider wiggles their fingers at him with a smile.

"Me neither."

MG & ROB With a grunt, Robin sits up with a grimace, hand on his head as his eyes readjusts when he manages to make out Bane stood just in his eye-line.

Bane isn't looking at him though, instead the man's eyes are trained on Miss Martian floating in the air, hands outstretched out in front of her.

She's clearly too busy managing her telekinesis to notice the hulking man anger as he grabs onto one of the many large pieces of machinery lying around the abandoned factory and prepares to ambush her.

Miss Martian, watch out!

Robin's voice rings out in her head, and M'gann whips around, eyes landing on Bane.

Before either of them can react, something is suddenly flying through the air and with a loud thwack- Bane is lying on the floor, looking a lot less angry and unconscious. Now up on his feet, Robin slowly approaches Bane, M'gann landing on his side as the pair blink down at whatever hit him.

Upon inspection, it's the barrel tank that those cement trucks carry. Empty, sure, but Robin's not surprised that guy was put to bed.

What's more surprising?

"Woooo, my aim's getting good, no?" Spider grins, bouncing on their feet as they approach the two.

"You... you threw that?" Miss Martian asks carefully.

"Duh, who else?"

"Oh. Well, thank you." She offers, a little dumbfounded but Spider doesn't seem to notice.

"How?" Spider blinks at Robin, who's been silently gawking at them as they approach.

"What do you mean, 'how'? I just threw it. "

Robin sputters at them, left eye twitching under his mask as he watches them stretch their arms out over their head with no care in the world.

"That's not- that's impossible?"

"Nuh, uh! Just grab, do a couple spins to get some speed and let go- works pretty well."

"I don't believe you."

"Why not?! I'm plenty strong!"

Safe to say that Robin made them perform a couple of strength tests when they got back to the cave, and now Robin's worried Spider might not be aware of the fact that most people can't just throw around cement trucks.

all work n' writing is work of @httpsobi. i ask you please do not copy, rewrite, translate or post on other platforms without my consent.

#httpsobi's work #young justice dc #young justice #young justice headcanons #young justice imagines #young justice x reader #reader x young justice #oc x young justice #young justice reader #young justice oc #dc #dc x reader #dc comic x reader

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last-words-ofashootingstar · 7 months

Note

I'm craving for your writing, please spare me a crumb 🛐

ATEEZ favorite positions maybe?

ATEEZ favorite positions

❥ATEEZ (separately) x afab reader

➯a/n: i'm deep deeeeeeeep in the depths of writers block and trying to claw my way out like the feral writing gremlin i know i am- but i have no idea if this is any good, please forgive me for the atrociously long wait. happy valentines ! 💌💕

♡´･ᴗ･`♡▼・ᴥ・▼genre: smut, bullet point style, drabbles

ಠ_ಠwarning/content: eldest to youngest, unprotected(booooo), so much romance im a sucker, soft & rough sex, head(giving and receiving), dacryphilia, overstimulation, possessiveness, brat taming in the form of dumbification, strength kink, restraint, switching holes (LMAO?), forehead touches!!!!!!!! not proof read :(

⁂perm taglist: @stvrfir3 @tunaasan @marievllr-abg

MATURE UNDER CUT MDNI

彡★PARK SEONGHWA - lotus

he's a hopeless romantic, and it definitely shows through his favorite positions

he's seated on the edge of the bed, or couch, or chair, even seated on the floor-

and youre seated in his lap like it's your throne

your legs wrapped around his moving hips, arms around his neck and hands tangled up in his hair

it's his favorite position for many reasons

the angle of his hips which makes his cock tease the deepest parts of you

your heavy breaths falling right onto his lips, breathing the same air during such a passionate act

and the way he can see your eyes well up with pleasure with every little thrust until you come undone right infront of him

Seonghwa can see every little twitch of your face as he rests his forehead against yours, his hips had set an unrelenting slow and loving pace long ago and have yet to stop. His tip drags along your g-spot every time he pulls out, and you almost want to beg him to just stay buried deep because of the maddening slow building pleasure. Any attempt to speak on either of your parts only comes out as a puff of hot air into the others mouth. It isn't the first time you've done it in this position, but the intimacy of it completely blankets you every time. You can't feel anything other than each other, and it's pure euphoria.

彡★KIM HONGJOONG - cuddle fuck

it's not that it's his favorite persay, it's just the one that happens the most

people say this man hates affection, they couldn't be any more wrong

he loves to be close to you !

after a busy schedule and tiring day, all he wants to do is cuddle

but your body is so soft and warm pressed against his, he feels so safe and comfortable

he won't say anything at first, either because he's too embarrassed or too tired so it usually goes like this:

Hongjoong has his arms wrapped around you- one cradling you to his chest warmly as the other traces his racing thoughts on your lower back. One of your legs is hooked over his hip, the other tangled between his. You kiss over his tattoo with all of the care in the world and that's when the feeling in his lower belly stirs to life. As you go on about mundane things, like what you should cook the both of you for dinner, it only gets hotter and tighter. Your skin is searing against his in the most pleasant and simultaneously daunting ways. The way you bite your lip tells him you finally feel it, that hardness pressing against your thin house-shorts. You push aside the other topic at hand and move both of your shorts away, wordlessly slipping him inside of you. You're so close, you may as well be one soul. And that's just the way he likes it.

彡★JEONG YUNHO - v

yunho is TALL.

no matter what position you're in, innocent cuddling or sinful fucking or walking down the street-

he shadows over you like a demon

the softest demon ever but still

he's huge and it drives him over the edge when he can see and feel the difference compared to you

so when you've got your legs stretching up as far as they can go and they barely reach over his shoulders????

whew baby prepare your cervix to be bruised

It started as a simple mating press, Yunho' s cock begging him to just fill you as far as possible without breaking you. But when he sat up, your legs followed; no longer being pinned by his chest. You laid them flat against his sweaty chest and arched your back, breaking his mind in an overwhelming horniness as he felt your toes curl just on his shoulder blades when you came. Oh, he'll be damned if he stopped there. He went on for hours, he had never been so hard. He wanted to cum so badly, but at the same time, he never wanted to move away from the ethereal image of you below him like that. When he finally did (and hello wow that was so much cum it literally came splatting out between you) he made a mental note to most definitely get you worked up again tomorrow.

彡★KANG YEOSANG - mating press

this man's beauty and personality is so soft and silky

don't let that shit fool you breh

he is a beast in the bedroom, he goes feral when you're behind a locked door together

there's something about you that just makes him want to overtake your entire being and become one with you

something that makes him want you to break- break just for him

he loves every fiber of your being and he's possessive over you like no fucking other

because of his career, he's not allowed to show that publicly, and he more than makes up for his need to express his dominating feelings for you by-

well, by dominating you

Your thighs are crushed to your chest, feet dangling in the air and bouncing with every rough thrust of Yeosang 's skilled hips. If there was a time that this position was uncomfortable, that time is long gone. All of his deep, quick thrusts wipe away anything in your mind other than him, and the glazed over look in your eyes only makes him go harder. His eyes nearly roll into his skull every time he feels you clench around him, your cunt completely at his mercy. You're ripe for the picking. Laid out for him helplessly, stuck in position by his rough and loving hands on the back of your sore thighs. Completely weak beneath him as he fucks you like it's the last thing he'll ever do on this mortal earth, and you simply let him because you love him. And he absolutely revels in it.

彡★CHOI SAN - against the wall

"sannie bulked up after wooyoung chest bumped him across stage!!"

erm no

sannie bulked up when he saw you watching an against the wall video!!

his brain immediately fried at the idea of doing that to you and now here we are a few years later

he prides himself in how strong he's gotten, how muscular he is

it's an ego boost really, and a deserved one

he loves bending you into whichever position he wants to just because he can

but this will always be his personal favorite

San has his arms wrapped around the underside of your knees, pining them to the wall and effectively folding you in half while he demolishes your holes. All of his praise falling to deaf ears as your head spins with a dizzying pleasure. He lets your forehead fall on his, breathing in your fucked out groans as his thrusts slam your hips and lower back into the wall. You lost it and started cumming the second he man handled you and lifted you with his cock still inside, and now it's his turn for that blinding white pleasure as you grab his big, flexing biceps and drool as you clench around him.

彡★SONG MINGI - 69

song mingi sloppy toppy champion and i don't take criticism on this sorry

he enjoys eating pussy or sucking dick over sex most days, like his soul purpose is to make his significant other feel on cloud 9 (get it they're the 9 and he's the 6 haha okay-)

and when he's balls deep he can't help but go full sub mode and hump like a wild animal searching for primal release

so- head it is

but you want him to feel good too, obviously

and despite his reassurances that making you feel good in turn makes him feel good, you just can't help it

so, a mutual position is found: one were he gets to have his tongue on you, in you, all over you-

and you get to make him an even whinier mess than usual

It turns Mingi on so badly when he gets to taste you, you barely have to touch him. His tongue is deep inside you, hands kneading your ass as he makes a mess of his favorite meal. Hes so lost in the pleasure of giving that he doesn't even realize you've got his cock stuffed in your throat until he cums into the warmth of it. He's always a whiny mess between your legs, and this new position quickly becomes both of your favorites when you continue to tease him through and past his release, and he continues to slurp up the ever flowing arousal that comes from the pleasure of making him cum. It's a never ending cycle really, and neither of you dare complain.

彡★JUNG WOOYOUNG - spooning

now i would say reverse cowgirl because he's obviously an ass man- but that's his second choice

y'all seen that video of him getting all up on yunho on stage from behind ??

yeah that's why i chose this and because it's infecting my brain

something about it just makes him even more feral than usual

everything about it tbh-

let me just *licks pen*

His leg wrapped over your hip and around yours like an anaconda, using his leverage to spread your legs as you're both laid sideways, giving him all the access he could ever want. And boy does Wooyoung take advantage of it, holding you in place with his arms wrapped under your armpits and holding your shoulders tightly so you can't escape the burning heat of his body against yours while he fucks you to the next millennium. In your ass, it's slow and deep, a beautiful painful stretch. In your pussy, fast and shallow and hard, banging your g-spot until you sob. He can feel your ribs wracking with sobs of overwhelming pleasure, and he doesn't stop until you've made a mess of him just as he did you.

彡★CHOI JONGHO - prone bone

big cock!!!!!

there i said it, it had to be done

it took ages and ages to get used to his absolute girth

and even now that you're used to it it still stretches you out and shuts your brain off to put all of your willpower into your cunt so you don't break in half

and he can't help it as his mind begs him to take advantage of that fact when you're being a brat

he knows you turn into a cock whore the minute he stretches you out

and he plans to make use of that fact

Jongho is still so sweet and gentle when punishing you. He doesn't have to be rough, his veiny girth does the job naturally. Usually he'll spread you out nice and wide- not today. Not when you're a brat. He lays you face down and ties your legs together. He can barely shove his member between your pushed together thighs to get inside of you but when he does. It's like the tightest and warmest fleshlight in the world, and it's attached to the person he loves. He will make you forget your own name, just with his goliath friend and slow passionate thrusts.

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cweampier · 1 year

Note

Leon fucking the reader and cumming inside them and then he gives reader a head ykyk cum play. Thats the request

this is really late but.. you got it trying to claw my way out of writers block.. hope you like it

hips rocked against yours to create obscene noises that circled your mind. although practically absent, you still have the consciousness to usher out hushed profanities, his name and then some. leon grunted from above you as he humped the flesh of your ass as you laid on your stomach, arms folded against the mattress as you rested your forehead against your forearms. your shoulders tensed, knees digging harshly into the foamy bed as you attempted to regain your balance. he hooked a muscular arm around your waist, ultimately lifting your hips up and holding them in place effortlessly.

“baby’s so tired… y’lucky leon’s doing all the work for you, huh? dumb little girl, fuck she’s so cute,” he soothed, emphasizing it with a shallow thrust to your split open core. deflowering you in routinely fashion. “aaaall fucked out, don’t worry. little cunts begging to be bred n that’s what she’s g’na get. oh, fffuck..” he removed his hand from your hip, ridden with sweat as he smoothed it through his hair, tossing it around as he let go of the damp locks. that same hand found your hip once more, digging his calloused fingers into the raw flesh.

he snarled, the whites of his eyes glinting in the luminescence. he squeezed them shut, lamenting noisily, caked with arousal. he spilled himself deep inside you, puffing out hot breaths through his flared nostrils. he grit his teeth as your pussy suctioned against the base of his cock. grumbling under his breath, he massaged the reddened flesh of your ass cheek, occasionally kneading at it much like some sort of starved predator. he leant down close to your ear, steadfast breaths making contact with your ears, adorably flushed at the tips. air rushed into your canals, causing your whole body to instinctively flinch.

“you okay?” he chased, blue eyes crossed with concern. although, he proved to be easily malleable as soon as you nodded. you rasped out a reply as you lifted your head to face him, pressing a sloppy kiss to his lips. he pulled away, spit shining on his plush pink lips. “hm’kay..” he echoed, succumbing to his thoughts impeding his morals. albeit, they weren’t sinister.. but they were sure enough to tire you out even more. we’re talking an officer fresh out of the academy, one thing was certain. you were outmatched. before you could find solace within the sight of his face, he retreated back to where you both started. behind you.

reluctantly he pulled out of you, earning a satisfying yet alluring whine from your parted lips. he hummed, feeling that same stirring in his groin. he observed as the creamy substance seeped out of your cute slit, almost beckoning him to press his face between your legs and get to work, lapping at your folds. it coated every. square. inch. costing him his dignity as he continued to become merely an onlooker. nimble fingers spread your folds open, brows knitting together. he unconsciously drooled at the sight, tip leaking with anticipation.

after a few moments of silence, he dove in earning a squeak of protest from you. you tugged at his locks, forcing him away from your slick apex, whipping your head back to meet his eyes. your attempts were lackluster, to no avail. he was going to get what he wanted, that was final. “leon.. hh’can’t, just.. a few moments, please,” you exhaled, eyes heavy with exhaustion. he chided, shaking his head. “can’t help it..” he drooled, using his forearm to wipe his swollen lips. “someone’s gotta clean you up somehow..”

#sorry to disappoint #know i haven’t been posting all that much #leon kennedy #leon kennedy smut #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #resident evil #resident evil smut #resident evil x reader #resident evil x you #cweampier

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n3ptoonz · 9 months

Note

OMG OKAY SO I JUST READ YOUR RECENT HEADCANONS WITH EARTHREALM BOYS AND HOW THEY'D REACT TO READER RIDING THEM AND I LOVE IT SO MUCH AND IT GOT ME THINKING

How would they react to reader pegging them HEHEHE 👁️👁️🙏

mk1 hcs: how the earthrealm guys react to pegging

sorry i took so long to get to this anon! life is on my asssss and kept getting random spurts of writers block but WE HERE

warnings: explicit, smut elements, fluff elements, sub men obviously, sphinx might have favs idk tho😹

Scorpion

When you suggested pegging for the first time, it intrigued him. He'd always been down to try something new, especially if you bring it to him since he does it more

Y'all would be reeallll slow in the beginning. Luckily you knew all about preparation and making sure he was relaxed and okay the whole time. It didn't take long for him to get used to it, and even take a liking

He'd prefer for it to be a regular thing after his looonngggg days after work. There's nothing he needs more than to either be treated with tender, love, and care or just straight filthy coitus with him seeing stars and his hair tangled to all hell

The first few times he was a shy boy, cute lil whimpers here and there. Now? Doesn't give a damn, he will be as vocal as he feels like. You're gonna be the one who wakes up with claw marks and bite marks in the morning

Sub-Zero

Huh? You want to what? Were you inside of his head or something? How'd you know he wanted you to absolutely mix his guts whenever he gives you attitude? Something ain't right

He only acts reluctant because he didn't wanna look eager, but the man was waiting for this moment. The second you suggested it he was like "okay i'll say yes after like the third time i gotta look cool." when whole time he wanted to fall to his knees and hug your thighs in agreement

Don't try to go slow the first few times. His patience is shorter than his temper, this mf is the most power bottom individual in the bedroom. After he's gotten used to it he'll 'allow' you to go the romantic route (he's such a lil bitch for it we love it)

He barks orders at you like you won't grab his face and give him a taste of his own medicine. One good time where you're hovering over him, a thumb on the inside of his cheek while he drools and you fuck him like your life depended on it. Mission success!

Smoke

He's the one who brought it to you. Any objections? I think tf not. He isn't saying it aloud, but his eyes are silently begging you to treat him like the town's whore

He likes both the romance and the pure filth. It's entirely up to you; he will never say no to anything you suggest. Fuck him like you're mad at him or go slow and steady while you kiss his jaw and play with his hair and sing his praises

Any and all positions available. If you can somehow prone this big boy, DO IT. He'd totally ride you too if you really down for the count. We are troopers around this bitch!

Sometimes it would concern you how rarely he tapped out, especially when shit was getting intense and didn't calm down for a while. If you were absolutely demolishing his ass, you'd see a pool of drool escaping his lips, his eyes glossed over, his whines and moans gradually getting louder, and when you asked if he was okay, he would nod and give you a thumbs up like he didn't just bust 3 times in a row

Johnny Cage

Every time I do any sexual hcs of this mf, I will continue to say he's a brat. I do not care. He's a fucking diva and will dare to bark orders at you too like you're not the one who brought it up

Y'all know that Meg the stallion lyric where she's like "no don't fuck me like that fuck me like this"? THATS HIS ASS. He KNOWS it'll piss you off but go one of two ways: you indeed do fuck him like that but added aggression, OR! you stop completely and pretend like you're gonna leave the room. Works every time

He thoroughly enjoys straight up sex over romantic sex, but every once in a while he indulges in popping champagne, throwing down rose petals, and playing sexy music in the back to set the mood. Ol dramatic ass

Remember how I said in my riding hcs that he records everything? Yeah. Even as far as come to you and be like "okay so like what if we sold these? i could cut your face out if you want-" and you're like !1!2? HOWEVER ik some of yall are FREEKIE FUCKS. If you say "fuck that leave my face in it", prepare to never need a job ever again

Kenshi Takahashi

Surprisingly is down with it. That's what #love does to a mf. He's like Kuai, anything you want you shall receive. If you wanna play around in that ass, say no more!

97% of the time wants to go slow and steady. He just loves looking at your face with the power of Sento while making love. Tell him how much you love and appreciate him and how he's doing so good for you and he'll instantly become the butter to your bread (like melting- ok y'all get it cool)

That 3%?? He would be on his knees and begging you to fuck the stress out of him. He's had such a tough week, just shove his head into the pillow and get to work!

If it's missionary just grip his neck, get real close to his face so he can feel your breath, and welcome him to pound town. All aboard the slut-Kenshi-out train

Raiden

Secretly a whore. The first green light into pegging territory, you could see his pearly browns sparkle in excitement and eagerness. He's relatively chill and calm about it at first because he didn't want to scare you away, but that's gone in an instant when you actually do the deed

Walks up to microphone Raiden...enjoys the prepping damn near more than the actual pegging. This pretty boy sure loves to see you break out the lubricant and gloves just so you can get him ready. Bro is on the edge of the bed swinging his feet while you have the most devious look in your eye

He's 50/50 on sensual nights vs getting down and dirty. Literally has zero preference, just spread him!

Back to how I said he's secretly a whore, sometimes he does subtle things that get you riled up throughout the day so you can take it out on him later. It's kinda funny sometimes cause he can be vocal but he's more shy than ever, but he'll break soon, trust

Liu Kang

Out of everyone he'd probably enjoy it the most. Now hear me out, he's not used to something like this, so it may take some convincing, but it's very little. It's good that he was mortal before so this level of intimacy isn't completely out of bounds

Once you get the stamp of approval and you try it for the first time, he's in love. It's like all he wants to do. Like holy fuck, where has this been for all these eons? This is the ultimate relaxation and he gets to forget his worries for a few hours??

He's so fascinated that he'd be the one introducing YOU to different types of straps all the way down to the patterns. "A dragon one... have you heard of this one?" like damn bro we get it you fw dragons (literally 😹)

Given how calm he is he prefers slow and sensual. It's only when he's truly curious that he'd be like hmm...it certainly wouldn't hurt to try (prepare for his godly stamina to have you on the brink of death btw). also, there's no way he wouldn't request for his hair to be pulled 😮‍💨

Kung Lao

Kung Lao my beloved. Morphs into alpha with huge muscles and impeccable imagination. Kung Lao, the egotistical and prideful man he is would think he has the up on you simply because he brought it up before you did. This fine ass man can and will come prepared on his own, case full of toys and all

And if I said he likes to be tooted up with music in the back and you pulling his hair while being used like a barracks bunny, would you arrest me?? For speaking TRUTH? He's a whore your honor

He don't give a damn about slow and steady but he'll do it if you want to. Just know it will never end in slow and steady, the pace always seems to be picked up and all of a sudden he's strap-warming you as a punishment (he literally wanted this to happen)

Idek what more to say Kung Lao is a slut and I need him in a way that's concerning to women's suffrage. I will make that hat chucking dimple having sexy ass man a fucking mother, just you wait. [he is one of the first I will breed]

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sophiethewitch1 · 1 year

Text

A Dramatic Irony

A/n: Trying to combat writer's block so I decided to do this little drabble. Spoilers for the WHB prologue, and also includes my theory that MC will turn out to be God in some form or capacity. Because why the hell else would the angels turn over to our side?

GAME IS 18+ THIS DRABBLE ISN'T, BUT EVEN THE PROLOGUE HAS ADULT CONTENT! MINORS PLEASE BE SENSIBLE!!!

“So, it was you? This whole time?” His lips graze against your throat. He’s warm, of course he is. All that holy light spilling out? He’s so warm it’s almost uncomfortable.

Everything about this is uncomfortable, really. But of course, like always, you’re at the centre of it. Of every situation, from the depths of hell to the cloudy tops of heaven.

“I’m not Him,” you grit out, your body shivering. You don’t dare move. Not with Gabriel, the man who had sworn to kill you, who had chased you over hell with armies of feathered fiends, with his teeth at your jugular.

It doesn’t matter the way he shakes just the same as you. It doesn’t matter that his fingers skim delicately - reverently - across your stomach. It doesn’t matter that those eyes that before looked at you with absolutely nothing inside, now seemed to overflow. With love, obsession.

You know, before all this, you’d been an atheist. Before an unholy angel had crawled out of your computer and a righteous demon had saved you and your best friend’s life, you had thought God couldn’t exist. That the world couldn’t be so cruel if someone like Him truly did exist. That your childhood wouldn’t be mired in tragedy, that you wouldn’t struggle to get out of bed every day. That you wouldn’t have to blink away flashes of the scent of copper and soap.

And of course, then you’d made a deal with the devil. You’d gone to hell. You’d broken countless contracts, and warred against heaven. You’d had to fight for every second of your life, and you’d done it bitterly, angrily.

Angry at this God that had disappeared, and angry at His stupid mistake of making every angel madly in love with him. Angry at how He never thought of the consequences of his actions, of how He never imagined a world He wouldn’t exist in. How just by your birth, you’d been destined to suffer. How your parents would have died no matter what, how you would always have had to walk this thorny path.

How He never seemed to consider what could happen when you created one of the strongest beings in the universe and forgot to give them a fucking moral compass.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he murmurs, ignoring your words. His too-warm body crowding in too close to yours, as your fists curl against his chest, desperately trying to push him away. It’s no use because no matter what’s in your blood, you aren’t strong enough - what is Solomon’s, and what is His.

Because, apparently, those stupid mistakes you’d cursed God for, were yours.

“I’m not Him,” you repeat, hands moving to claw at his throat. He doesn’t react beyond a small sigh of pleasure, curling into your touch like a cat in the sun. “I’m not Him. I don’t have His memories. I’m not Him.”

“I told you, didn’t I? I didn’t have any negative feelings towards you. I’m sorry, I’ll fix it. I’ll make it up to you, I promise. Please, just let me stay by your side?”

It’s such a strange dichotomy. The angel who sees this as a beautiful, miraculous reunion. And you, who sees this a tragedy. One you could never escape. The angel from before, swinging his scythe at your throat, and the one who now presses plush lips against that same skin. It’s too ironic, isn’t it? It just can’t be true. It just doesn’t make any sense.

“I don’t want you by my side,” you sob, but he just shushes you, pressing kisses against your head and across your face. He licks up your tears, groaning at the taste.

It’s too cruel. You have to wonder if the old you, the one you can’t remember, ran from this.

His hands tighten around your waist. It doesn’t really matter what happened before, because you know you won’t be able to run this time.

#what in hell is bad #whb #whb gabriel #what in hell is bad gabriel #whb x reader #yandere x reader #yandere drabble #whb gabriel x reader

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divinehedons · 8 months

Text

i won't hurt you.

navigation: masterlist

word count: ~1.9k words

summary: you meet joel in the aftermath of a terrible accident. reeling from the aftermath of the event, there is a looming shadow that complicates your relationship with the southern man you just somehow happened to meet

warnings: explicit (but not graphic) content–MINORS DO NOT INTERACT! relatively dark(?)-ish joel miller, allusions to smut (not heavily detailed), graphic depictions of injury, some scenes include hospitalization (not in graphic detail), dubious consent, joel miller radiates mansplain / manipulate / malewife energy, men are trash in general wbk

note: oh. my. god. it has been far too long and i’m so so very sorry for just now coming back! i’ve hit a terrible writer’s block alongside very bad mental health and i’m just now recovering :’D thank you so so so much for 800 followers, it’s going to take a while for me to respond to everyone but i’ll be going through them! i love you very very dearly, mwah!

note 2.0: pls pls lower your expectations, 🫣 i am trying to get back into the groove of things!

You remember the screech of tires on frozen asphalt. A flash of headlights. Spinning, spinning, spinning. Your body ignited in pain. Then… darkness.

Darkness that seemed to spread before you for an eternity. Untethered and stuck in limbo, perhaps in another universe, you would call it the most peaceful slumber of your life. The misfortune comes when you wake. Lightning strikes shake you awake from the darkness of your subconsciousness. Electricity trembling in your chest as it shoots through your beaten frame. A light peers through your closed eyes. Brighter, and brighter… bigger and bigger. A ringing in your ears that almost deafens you.

The world shifts around you, and you wake paralyzed, staring at the ceiling in the warm sun that falls on your body lying there. Everything hurts. There is a humming in your head that you cannot seem to shake out of.

The solitude lasts for a beat. Then another. That’s when you see him.

A sleepless, roughened man looking at you with his warm eyes. Through the bleary vision of your own gaze, a shaky breath escapes him. His crinkled eyes looking over your features with a swift once over.

“Oh, Christ, you’re awake.”

And that’s how you met Joel.

–

In the week that followed your complicated recovery, Joel tells you he saw the crash. Tells you the asshole who ran you over was nowhere to be seen. He says most of it with his eyes averted. Yet you hold your gaze.

You will not be weakened by the shame of your misery.

It is two days later when you confess to him; your throat still rasping as the pain in your head boils and toils beneath your skull. You look at him when he arrives, paint-stained shirt providing evidence of a messy day of working. “I don’t want to think about what happened to me anymore, Joel.”

Your tongue grabs at words the way young children do with sticky fruit in the summer. As if language has become foreign to you.

Joel, keys in hand, meets your gaze with a furrowed brow. “Sure, sugar. Whatever you need.”

Maybe your eyes were tricking you, but you could’ve sworn you saw his shoulders relax from some kind of tension leaving his body.

–

Joel doesn’t know what he had gotten himself into. What he does know is that for some reason, he couldn’t bear the idea of staying away from you. You tell him fragments of what little you remember, your concussed consciousness blindly clawing at every last bit of beaten brain matter for some kind of answer.

You sometimes cry from the effort it takes you to think, but he’s there. The first few times, he held your hand. As the hours bled into days, he held you as you wet his shirt with warm tears. Sometimes, when the nightmares reach him in his own bed a few miles out from the hospital, it feels like you’re bleeding into him.

From the moment he saw you, he had been marked. And no matter how many times he scratched at his own skin, he could never wash away the blood on his hands.

–

He’s the one to take you home to your quiet little apartment, having grown dust in your absence. You apologize, he waves you off. He watches you as you peer out of the window, comprehending a view that had once been so mundane, transformed into some shred of a miracle for you to still be there, witnessing it all. He’s behind you, ten feet away, tilting his head as your hair catches what little sunlight blessed you the day you left the hospital.

He says your name, and you look back at him with a curious smile. “My God,” he followed. “You look just like starlight.” He steps forward, and that’s when you know everything had fallen into place. Without another moment lapsing, he takes your face into his hands, pulling you into a searing kiss.

You apologize so many times. For the hospital smell on your skin. For your trembling knees. For the dizzying sensation of human contact without the involvement of medical processes. For feeling so unclean.

Meanwhile, he apologizes, too. For kissing you. For pulling you to him. For holding you. For carrying you to the forlorn couch grown cold from the absence of human warmth. So many times that there are times that you don’t know what is there to apologize for. You shake your head each and every time.

The tears roll down your cheek just as he pulls away and his eyes immediately soften. You shake your head, pulling him into another kiss as you whine.

There are many things you want to tell him. But you don’t dare tell him this: Sometimes being offered tenderness feels like the very proof that you have been ruined.

“Tell me to stop, honey, and I will,” he murmurs, holding your cheek as you pause between touches. You shake your head immediately. You want many things. You are hungry and untamed. But you do not want him to stop.

You tell him as much. “Joel, don’t you dare stop.”

And he doesn’t. Not when you’re naked and he sees your bruised skin, purple and yellowed in places. He looks to you just as your body tenses. His demeanor softens, kissing along your jaw and your neck with a shaky breath.

“I won’t hurt ya, darlin’.”

He keeps to that promise. Even when your legs are around his waist and he’s caught in your warmth. He says it again and again as you whine into the cool, quiet solitude of your home.

I won’t hurt you, I won’t hurt you.

–

Falling in love with Joel was both so complicated and so simple at once. Whenever you wake beside him, you wake up writhing from the pain of your injuries; sometimes crying from the nightmares that followed every waking moment. You felt marred by shame for putting so much of your perceived burden on his shoulders. He never departs from your side, his strong arms placating you while his lips press against your temple.

It’s all so simple, the way he cares about you. And whether or not you admitted it, you like the feeling of being cared for. Of having someone that cares.

Regardless, you cannot escape the fact that someone did this to you. And whenever the pain shocks your body, everything but rabid rage escapes your body. You curse the stranger, whoever they may be, for that cursed night.

Joel sees glimpses of this. He saw it most that one afternoon when the hospital called, saying you had been taken care of. By who, they didn’t say. Only that the stranger apologized for what happened.

You were on the floor, hands trembling in the fists you held them in. The hospital bill crumpled a few inches away. You do not see him. What you see is all red.

A wail escapes your trembling mouth just as your hands claw at anything they can touch. It is an uncontrollable surge of blinding, mouth-foaming, unbridled rage. He’s there, trying to hold you down before you hurt yourself. Each wail pierces another hole into his aching heart. Each struggle followed by his gentle shushing, trying to assuage you in the crest of your emotion.

“Whoever it was,” you told him then as you sobbed. “They ruined my life.”

“Darlin, darlin’...” He breathes in, cupping your face. “Maybe he’s around and he regrets-”

“No!” You claw at him, just as he holds you tighter against his chest. “If he could find me, then he could say it to my face. He wouldn’t be some coward who left me alone like this after he ruined my life!”

It destroys him. And you can see it in his face. All he can do is hold you as you cry against his chest. All he can do is shut his eyes, letting the waves of grief crest over and over your frame. Letting your sobs tear him open and burn him out.

He tells you nothing lasts forever. That he’ll be there for as close to forever as possible. You shake your head because you know better. He says nothing lasts forever. He doesn’t know he’s just afraid your pain can last longer than he is capable of loving you.

–

Perhaps, to the end of his days, Joel will regret that drunken night. He’ll regret following his bleary gaze through the quiet, sleet-slick roads. He’ll regret the fact that he couldn’t have stopped his truck sooner.

When he steps out into the cold just as he smells the acrid scent of burning tires, he sees your bloodied face in your car. So small. So undeserving. He muttered a string of cusses. The sudden shock of adrenaline washing away the last of his drunkenness. He looks back at his truck, horrifically beaten, his gaze doubling from his last bout of drunkenness.

He bargains that night. Calls up someone high up amongst the police rank to bail him out. He negotiated for ten minutes. Then he hides the truck somewhere off the side of the road for him to come back to and dispose of. And then, only then, did he call for help.

Only then did he reach you in the driver’s seat, blood now caked to your skin as he lay you out amongst the concrete.

You make some sound, and he cusses to himself.

His rough palms cup your cheek, trying to get you to look at him then. But you were too far gone.

He spoke, anyway. Just in case you’ll hear it.

“It’s alright, doll. I won’t hurt you.”

Even now, weeks after he stole your life from you, he holds you and tells you the same thing anyway. The same set of words that manage to calm you down.

He does love you. And it breaks him every day to know he was the one to endanger you.

I won’t hurt you, I won’t hurt you.

#circe writes #joel miller fic #joel miller x reader #joel miller angst #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller smut

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