#and now it’s gone and I want to explode | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

just-some-random-blogger · 1 day ago

Text

CRYINNNGGGGG SOBBBINGGHHHHGG I HATE THAT I MISSED THIS I WOULD HAVE NEVER SEEN IT IF YOU DIDN'T TELL ME FUCKKKKKK BABEEE

You still couldn't believe Jack stood you up. Left you looking like an idiot in the Three Broomsticks, alone and glowering into your fruity red drink, surrounded by pink streamers and heart balloons larger than your head. Completely humiliating.

Like that one tiktoker said, embarrassment is a choice and you know what he's absolutely right. Gird your loins and wwe smackdown that piece of shit

And bizarrely, you felt like you deserved it for putting up with his bullshit for so long.

😬 yeesh therapy. But yeah we do accept the love we think we deserve

Never directed towards you, of course, Jack and his friends bore the brunt of his wrath. It was enough that Jack steered clear of both George and his twin, who always matched his energy.

Bruhhh he was a red flag from the start 😬😬😬😬 YEEESH I never understand how people can go into relationships like this but the again what the fuck do I know

Tears burned behind your eyes again, and you tried pushing through with a little more force.

Aw my girl 🥺💔

You looked up from your feet and locked eyes with George, who was hurriedly shifting a girl off his lap, ignoring her whine of protest while she grabbed at his white shirt.

SJDKDHJDJSJSJ I FEEL BAD FOR THAT GIRL WHO FINALLY GOT GEORGE ONLY TO VE CAST ASIDE SMKSKSNDNKSJS RIP BESTIE YOU WOULD AHVE LOVED RSVP'ING

You made it to the stairs, but there was no outrunning those long legs—a lesson you'd learned countless times.

🫵 UNNECESSARYILY🫵TALL🫵🫵🫵🫵

[...] And where's the bilge-rat you call a boyfriend?”

hES SO FUCKING FUNNY AND SO FUCKING UNAWARE BABES SHES FUCKKNG CRYUNG CANT YOU PUT TWO AND TWO TOGETHER FUCKKK HANNSJSJSNSNSNNSNSNNSS

You didn't respond, opening the door to your dorm and trying to slam it in George's face, but he caught it and pushed in behind you.

??????❓❓❓❓ PUTTING YOUR HAND BETWEEN A CLOSING DOOR IS CRAZY WORK ARE YOU KIDDING ME WHAT THE FUCK

“Break his teeth in? Throw him in the lake? Set his hair on fire—”

“Hey.” George squeezed your hands, shaking you. “Don't talk about my girl that way. You did nothing wrong.”

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH MYYYY GGIRRRLLLLL❓❓❓❓❓❓❓❓❓❓❓

“Congratu-fucking-lations, you were right. You got what you wanted. Are you happy now?”

The crowd goes mild but you're so me fr. 🎉Wallowing in self pity

“Just—go back to your party, George. I'm sure that doe-eyed girl is still waiting for you,” you hissed. It was a low blow, but you just wanted him gone so you could wallow in self-pity alone.

“Do you want me to find him?” He asked, voice a carefully measured calm.

HES SO

I LOVE THIS ART OF THEM SO MUCH I SWEAR

Suddenly, he was moving. His hands griped your waist, spinning your around and pressing you back into the vanity. His expression was severe. “Don't fucking do that,” he bit. “Don't act like I'm the bad guy when all I've wanted—” his voice caught in his throat, and he turned his head away, like he couldn't look at you.

youtube

He grinned back, glancing down at your wet dress. “C’mon, get out of this wet cupcake and meet me in my dorm, I have something for you.”

HES SO FUCKING FUNNY WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT GEORGE

“The one that exploded pink powder all over my face?”

GEORGE EHAT DO YOU MEAN IT EXPLODED ON HERRR WHAT WERE YOU DOINGGGGG YOU FUMBLED THE BAG SO HARDFDDDD

But also nah that would have worked on me

But when you started dating Jack, he'd gotten pissed at you for wearing it, and you'd hidden it at the bottom of your trunk, never quite ready to give it back to George.

........ Who's gonna tell her..... Wtf is this behavior.... Ngl she kinda toxic for that jack built like that cos she built like this fucking helll

“Naughty girl, lying to me.” Fred winked, and you swatted his shoulder. “But don't worry, love. The boys are on it!”

NAUGHTY GIRL WHAT DO YOU MEAN FRED HELLO????????????????¿????? HWY ADE YOU RUNNING WHERE AR EYOU GOIGN

George reached out to cradle your face, catching your tears with his thumbs. His eyes were so sweet, so sincere, it made your teeth ache. “Do you want me?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper, but the words still felt like a punch through your chest.

“Not even when you're all alone, and Jack’s left you half-loved, tangled in your sheets…you don't think about me coming in there and taking care of you?”

WHYS HE SO POETIC WHAT ARE YOU ON N N N WHATTTTT ISS THISS

“The bare minimum,” he teased, nipping at your earlobe. “You make it so easy to love you.” His hands squeezed at your flesh, his breath hot against your neck as he continued rocking your hips together. “So fucking sexy, so responsive. I knew you'd be perfect—” he grunted when you thrust your hips back up against him.

AND THEN THIS FUCKING PART

HER PUSSY THROBBING ISSSS CRAZZZYYYYY AHHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHHAH I LITERALLY LAUGHED SO HARD SHES A REAL ONE THO AHHAHAHA

“Merlin, you're soaked,” he purred, kissing up your neck and capturing your lips in a messy, top-lip kiss. His finger swirled around your puffy clit, applying just enough pressure to have pleasure radiating through your body. “You get this wet for him, baby?” He whispered, dipping his fingertips into your entrance, once, twice, before sinking down to the knuckle. “Little cunt sucking me right in. She was ready for me, hm?”

hES INSANE TALKING YOU THROUGH IT WHILE TRASH TALKING YOUR EX IS INSANE WORK GEORGE WEASLEY EVERYONE JUMPING INTO LAVA I GUESS

A broken sound hissed through his teeth. Jealousy bloomed in his eyes, his jaw feathering with irritation.

I DONT HAVE A WAY TO EXPLAIN HOW I FEEL ABOUT HOW FUCKING PRETTY I KNOW HE LOOKS THAN THIS

George @ jack btw

“Oh, you poor thing,” George cooed, adding a second finger and stroking the same spot again, your whole body hitching up the bed at the intensity of it. But his body weight held you down, his mouth painting gentle kisses along your skin to try and soothe you. “He never touch you like this? Never found that spot—fuck, right there, baby? That's it?”

ITS FINE IM FINE ITS OKAY IM NOT SUFFERING LIKE FARAMIR OR ANYTHING

“You've got a slutty little thong under here, don't you?” He asked, toying with the waistband of your shorts.

And cream

“Maybe,” you said, half-distracted by his cock jumping at the sound of your voice, the tip slick with precum.

She like me fr

He glanced down, following your gaze, and chuckled. “My eyes are up here, pretty girl,” he chastised with a light slap to your inner thigh.

I am not better than a man

“For later, yeah?” He said, smirking when your eyes rolled back when he tapped your clit with the head. “So next time I see that fucker, I can show him exactly what he lost.”

THE WAY I HAD TO REREAD THIS PART COS I WAS LIKE WHAT???? I WAS LIKE THERES NO HICKEY NO NOTHING THEN I STARTED PANICKING I WAS LKKE WAS HE GONNA GET HEE PREGNANT?????? I mean........ BUT LIKE??? NOO LIKE then I realized it as the underwear and then I just started imagining George biting them and waving them around and then I was mentally unwell

“Of course,” he beamed, carefully taking the the jewelry and clasping it around your wrist, [...]

Bestie I can't read i thought it said waist and I was like I thought it was a bracelet I was about to scroll up but then I was like it's fine if it's a waist thing I'll accept it. Thankfully I read it right

“Always.” He dropped a kiss on top of your head, then grabbed the gift back from you, pulling out a handful of candy and popping one of the lollipops into his mouth. “Not as sweet as your pussy, but…”

AJJDJDJDJJDJD HES GOT SUCH A DIRTYMOUTHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH FUCKKKKKKKKKKK lemme sit on it

George was up in a blink, his chest littered with the marks you gave you him, and pushed through the curtain. “Well, well. Seems you aren't dead, or maimed…so what exactly is your excuse for standing up my girl on Valentine's Day?” George asked.

Yeah so like remember when I said UHHHH pregnancy noooo. Yeah 1000000 babies

“I don’t have to explain myself to you, I—your girl?” Jack hissed. “She's mine.”

Not to bring a baby into this but

This is exactly how I feel. The audacity is astounding

George chuckled. “Love, would you like to come out here and set the record straight?”

You dont even know how hot he is in my head. You write him so hot. He's so hot. Fuck

AND THIS ENTIRE PART

NSJJSJSJSJSJJSHSHSBBSSN HOWWLLLLONNGGGGGGG SHAKING WITH LAUGHTER INSANE WORKKK HES SO WAR FREAK I WILL FREAK HIM SO HARDDD FUCKKKK OFFF

George was leaning against the bed frame, lollipop in his cheek, a triumphant smirk on his face.

You're a lollipop. HES SO HOT YOU DONT EVEN NOW ALLIE WHA THE FUCK

You thrust your knee up, nailing him right in the bollocks, and he howled so loud the other boys dropped him into a heap on the floor.

👁️👄👁️🧍‍♀️😶😶😶😶😶😶😶😶😶😶😶 DAMN NNNNN

“That's my girl,” George cooed, taking the lollipop of his mouth to kiss you properly, the strawberry flavor sweet on his tongue. He waved at the others over your head as he deepened the kiss, and you heard them all file out, laughing and jeering as they dragged Jack behind them, the door swinging shut and locking.

🫵WAR🫵 FREAK 🫵 STRAWBERRY FLAVORED KISSES ARE INSANE. Instigators of violence these lot are but yah it do be like that when you roll with fucking George want-me-to-find-him Weasley

Easy to Love | G.W. 🩷

feat George Weasley x bsf!reader

SUMMARY: You get stood up by your boyfriend on Valentine's Day. Thankfully, your best friend George is ready to give you the Valentine's you deserve.

CW: MDNI 18+, smut, hurt/comfort, cheating on shitty boyfriends, idiots to lovers, petty!George, dirty talk, oral, piv, dom!George, all the Valentine's fluff

AN: happy valentines day!!!! you all have my heart 🫶

masterlist

Your hurried footsteps echoed along the empty corridor, dampened by the screaming rain pouring from the thick blanket of clouds over the castle.

Fucking perfect, you thought, bitterly wiping tears and splattered rain from your cheeks. It was like the universe was taunting you.

Stood up by your boyfriend on Valentine's Day? Forced to walk back to Hogwarts in shame? Here, have some torrential downpour to really set the mood.

Of all the shitty things he'd done to you over the last six months, this took the cake. And bizarrely, you felt like you deserved it for putting up with his bullshit for so long. You should have seen this coming from a mile away.

But you were too native, too stupid to see the red flags right under your nose. Well, that wasn't true. You saw them. You were just too scared to do anything about it.

Too scared to be alone. Too proud to admit you were wrong about him.

Merlin, George was going to be so fucking smug.

Your best friend, George Weasley, hated Jack. He hated Jack more than you'd ever seen him hate anyone. George had never had a problem with your past partners, albeit there was only two. But something about Jack brought out a side of George you’d never seen: vindictive, petty, mean.

Never directed towards you, of course, Jack and his friends bore the brunt of his wrath. It was enough that Jack steered clear of both George and his twin, who always matched his energy.

You knew George was just looking out for you, trying to protect you from, well, this. What you were feeling now. But you'd be damned if you gave him the satisfaction of being right.

Finally, the Fat Lady greeted you with a warm smile as you reached the top of the stairs. “Not out celebrating, lovey? Look at you, you're soaked!”

You sighed, looking down at your new dress, a babydoll in your favorite shade of pink, the fabric mottled with water and clinging to your skin. “Men suck*,*” you said.

The Fat Lady laughed. “They certainly do! What's the password, dear?”

You have it to her, and she swung open, a wadt of thumping music and the week of alcohol washed over you.

Shit. You'd completely forgotten about the Valentine's party tonight. While a drink sounded lovely, a drunken grind-fest was the last thing you wanted to participate in.

You pushed your way through the crowd, trying to make a beeline towards the girls dormitory. The crowd was thick, pushing and shoving, while music thumped loudly in your brain. Red hearts and cupids and streamers, were everywhere, a sheen of pink glitter starting to collect on your still-damp skin. Everywhere you looked, couples were all over each other, making out of dancing to the music, cuddled up on every available surface.

Tears burned behind your eyes again, and you tried pushing through with a little more force.

You popped out into a quieter area by the roaring fire, a circle of chairs occupied by the Quidditch team and a few others, which meant—

“Y/n?”

You looked up from your feet and locked eyes with George, who was hurriedly shifting a girl off his lap, ignoring her whine of protest while she grabbed at his white shirt.

The knife of hurt inexplicably twisted deeper in your gut, and you turned your back to him, pushing the other way through the crowd.

“Hey—wait!”

You made it to the stairs, but there was no outrunning those long legs—a lesson you'd learned countless times.

George snagged your wrist, turning you back towards him. “What happened?” The furrow between his brows deepened when he took in your tearful, soaked form. “Why are you wet? And where's the bilge-rat you call a boyfriend?”

You yanked your hand out of his hold. “Fuck if I know,” you snapped, trudging up the stairs, George on your heels.

“What do you mean? Didn't you have a date?” He asked, his tone getting angrier by the second.

You didn't respond, opening the door to your dorm and trying to slam it in George's face, but he caught it and pushed in behind you.

“Fuck, will you just tell me what happened? Are you okay?” He made an effort to soften his voice, catching your purse when you flung it at him.

“No, I'm not okay!” You cried, finally facing him, tears rolling down your cheeks. “Jack stood me up. He left me at the bar and—” emotion pinched your throat, cutting off your words.

You watched George cycle through the five stages of grief, frozen in the middle of the room. Then—

“Do you want me to find him?” He asked, voice a carefully measured calm.

“And do what?” You wiped at your cheeks, beyond frustrated. You couldn't decide if you wanted him to fuck off, or give you one of those big bears hugs he was so good at.

“Break his teeth in? Throw him in the lake? Set his hair on fire—”

“Stop it, George,” you muttered, sounding more defeated than angry.

He crossed the room to you, taking your trembling hands. “How can I fix it, love?” he asked, peering down at your pitiful, makeup smudged face.

You shook your head, avoiding his perceptive gaze. “Unless you have a time-turner to make me less of an idiot—”

“Hey.” George squeezed your hands, shaking you. “Don't talk about my girl that way. You did nothing wrong.”

You jerked your hands away, pushing past him and stalking over towards you vanity. “Please. You wanted me to leave him before we even got together. You made it abundantly clear how much you hated him.”

“Of course I did. He’s a prick—”

“So, clearly, you think I did something wrong by staying with him.” You angrily tugged your hair out of its style, wet strands tangled and getting frizzy, and started scrubbing off your makeup with a towelette. “Congratu-fucking-lations, you were right. You got what you wanted. Are you happy now?”

George looked like you'd struck him, hovering behind you in the mirror. You hated that he looked so handsome tonight in his white button down and dark wash jeans, his copper hair messy and flecked with glitter and heart-shaped confetti. It made it so much harder to be angry with him.

“You think this is what I wanted?” He asked. “The last thing I want is to see you hurting. Of course I'm not fucking happy that you're heartbroken. Even if it is over some limp-dick weasel.”

You scoffed, though you knew that was true, but it was easier to be angry right now. Easier to push him away than let him in.

George pressed on. “I'd like to hang him by the bollocks from the Whomping Willow for leaving you out in that storm, for all the shit he's done to you—”

“Just—go back to your party, George. I'm sure that doe-eyed girl is still waiting for you,” you hissed. It was a low blow, but you just wanted him gone so you could wallow in self-pity alone.

His hands were burning through the thin fabric of your dress, his grip tight enough to ache, and you felt a long-suppressed heat kindle in your belly. George had manhandled you plenty of times: throwing you over his shoulder, dragging you by the hand through the halls, lifting you to retrieve a book from a high shelf. But this felt…different. Charged in a way you'd spent years trying to ignore for the sake of your friendship.

“What, George?” You asked, gripping the edge of the vanity so you didn't reach out to touch him.

He sighed. “When all I've wanted is to make you happy.” He looked at you again, his dark eyes filled with hurt and something warm, honeyed, that you refused to acknowledge.

Your anger crumbled into guilt. “I-I should have listened,” you croaked, tears rising once again. “I'm sorry, I—”

“No, no. None of that,” he shushed, bundling you into his chest, his arms wrapped tightly around your shoulders. “You have nothing to apologize for.”

“I just feel so…so stupid,” you whimpered, crying into the safety of his chest, enveloped in the spiced, slightly sweet smell of his cologne.

“You aren't stupid, love. Far from it,” he soothed, hand smoothing up and down your spine. “This is on him, not you. You don't deserve to be treated like this.” He rocked you gently while you cried, cooing softly in your ear and keeping you grounded with his touch, until finally, your sobs ebbed to sniffles, and you drew a full, shaky breath. “There you go,” he said. “Take another one—that’s it. I've got you.”

“Thanks, Georgie,” you sniffled into his shirt.

“No need to thank me. I'm sorry that your Valentine's was ruined,” he murmured into your hair.

“I'm sorry yours was ruined too,” you mumbled, your fists tightening in the soft fabric of his shirt, pulling him a fraction closer, unwilling to part just yet.

“Ruined?” He chuckled. “Got my Valentine right here.” He squeezed you a little tighter, the air wheezing for your lungs until you laughed.

“Since when am I your Valentine?” You asked, pulling back to look up at him, a traitorous stab of affection making your heart skip. Shit, you should not be feeling these things for your best friend. It was just your hurt feelings, the holiday—nothing more.

“Since second year when I gave you that heart-shaped box of chocolates,” he said, pretending to be offended that you didn't remember.

“The one that exploded pink powder all over my face?”

George grimaced. “I forgot it did that…sorry, by the way.”

You smiled, pinching his freckled cheek. “You're forgiven.”

He grinned back, glancing down at your wet dress. “C’mon, get out of this wet cupcake and meet me in my dorm, I have something for you.”

“Cupcake?” You rolled your eyes, finally stepping out of his arms, though his hand lingered on your waist until you were fully out of arms reach. “It's a dress!”

“If you say so,” he teased, perusing your legs as you walked away. “I prefer your bunny pajamas, but—”

You chucked your shoe at him. “Fuck off, I'll see you in a second.”

He held his hands up in surrender and slipped out the door, closing it softly behind him.

What on earth could have have for you? Probably his usual box of chocolates, you mused as you peeled off the soggy fabric. Hopefully the non-explosive variety.

You riffled through your trunk, searching for something oversized and comfortable. But to your dismay, nearly everything large enough was your boyfriends, and you absolutely refused to wear something of him.

But at the very bottom of your trunk, something familiar caught your eye. You pulled it out, unveiling an old Quidditch hoodie, the letters faded and fabric soft from countless washes. George had lent it to you before a particularly cold match, and Gryffindor won in a landslide. It became a good luck charm of sorts, one you wore to every game there after.

But when you started dating Jack, he'd gotten pissed at you for wearing it, and you'd hidden it at the bottom of your trunk, never quite ready to give it back to George.

It smelled of green grass and open sky, and you tugged it over your head, letting it's warmth envelop you. Then, you put on a pair of sleep shorts and fuzzy socks, and padded out of the room towards George's, knocking twice before letting yourself in.

Fred and George were standing by the window, arguing in hushed voices, and straightened abruptly when you walked in.

“Hey, gorgeous!” Fred said, crossing the room and pulling you into a back-breaking hug. He reeked of beer. “How are we?”

“Peachy,” you replied tightly, glancing at George over Fred’s shoulder. He was scratching the back of his head, looking sheepish.

“Naughty girl, lying to me.” Fred winked, and you swatted his shoulder. “But don't worry, love. The boys are on it!”

“The boys? Wait—Fred!” But he was already gone, the door swinging shut behind him. You glared at George, and he held his hands up.

“They were worried about you!” He said defensively. “We care about you, y’know…” his voice trailed off when his eyes landed on your hoodie. “You still have that?”

Heat creeped up your neck. “’Course I do.”

“I thought shit-for-brains made you—”

“He tried,” you replied, tension coiling around the two of you once again.

A smirk lifted the corner of his mouth. “My good luck charm,” he chuckled, and your heart leapt into your throat.

“So, what do you have for me?” You asked, sitting on the edge of his bed like you always did. But something in his eyes flashed, making your lower belly heat.

What was going on with him?

He pushed himself from the wall and walked towards his trunk, just to the left of you. He rummaged around, withdrawing a pink gift bag with heart-covered tissue paper sticking out from the top.

“Oh, George…you didn't have to do this,” you said when he sat beside you.

“I wanted to.” He shrugged, setting the bag on your lap.

Heart pounding in your chest, you carefully removed the tissue paper, finding a pile of candy: chocolates and gummy lips and heart-shaped lollipops. There were also a few sachets of your favorite tea, pilfered from the kitchen, you imagined, and a copy of the book you'd been eyeballing your last trip to Hogsmeade with him and Fred.

Your heart was so full you feared it may burst. “Georgie, this is so sweet, thank you—”

“There's one more thing,” he said, gently taking the bag from you. He stuck his hand all the way to the bottom, and withdrew a small, pink-wrapped box with a ribbon tied around it.

The air was sucked from your lungs, ears ringing with shock as you gingerly took the box from him. He fidgeted beside you as you slowly unwrapped the paper, fingers trembling. The energy was taught around you, practically humming with tension.

A velvet box fell into your palm, the most gorgeous shade of burgundy with a delicate golden latch.

You almost didn't want to open it, terrified of what this meant, but so giddy you could sing. George, the poor guy, looked ready to burst out of his skin with impatience.

Carefully, you opened the lid. Inside was a gorgeous chain bracelet, the metal polished to perfection, with two charms resting against the velvet pillow. A tiny heart with your initial etched onto it, and a small fox, George's favorite mischievous, red-haired critter.

You pressed a hand to your mouth, tears pooling on your lower lashes. It was the most thoughtful gift you'd ever received. “George, I—”

“And you can get more charms, there's a shop in Hogsmeade with loads, books and birds and stars--”

You flung your arms around his neck, cutting off his nervous rambling. “I love it, Georgie, thank you,” you murmured into the crook of his neck.

He relaxed, his arms looping around your waist. “Of course,” he replied.

You pulled back, wiping at your cheeks with the back of your hand, inspecting the little fox. It crossed your mind that if Jack saw this, he'd be livid, probably go so far as to threaten George, break off the precious little fox, and your smile fell.

“Hey, what happened?” George asked, shifting to kneel in front of you as you curled inward. “You don't like the fox?”

“No, no—” you tried to suppress the tears forcing their way up. “I love the fox. I just—”

George's expression hardened. “Jack won't like it,” he said, an edge to his voice. “You're not going to stay with him, are you?”

You shook your head. “No, I'm not. But we're technically still together—”

“That's bullshit,” George snarled, pushing to his feet and stalking away from you. “He fucking forfeited his right when he left you alone like that. You could have gotten hurt. He just fucking abandoned you and is probably off with some other bird—”

A sob broke free from your chest, and he halted his tirade, shoulders sagging.

“Do you want him?” George asked, crouching in front of you again.

You shook your head. “No, I don’t,” you admitted.

Your mind was reeling. Of course, a part of you always wanted more with him, but… “I do, of course I do…but what if that ruins everything?” Your fingers curled into his shirt. “I don't want to lose you—”

“Never,” he said, shaking you so you met his eyes. “Never.”

“Relationships are different, though. What if we don't work like…that?”

His hands moved down to hold your neck, his touch gentle but insistent, your pulse thundering under his fingertips. “I’m still me, and you're still you. Are you going to look me in the eyes and tell me you haven't thought about it? That you haven't felt the pull?”

You don't reply, averting your eyes from his face.

“Not even when you're all alone, and Jack’s left you half-loved, tangled in your sheets…you don't think about me coming in there and taking care of you?”

Heat scorched your cheeks, your thighs clenching at the low purr of his voice, a pitch you hadn't heard before.

“Because I think about it all the time.”

You pussy throbbed and you gasped, shocked by the way your body was reacting to his words alone, your mind scrambling to keep up with this new reality you've stumbled into.

“Knowing I could treat you better, love you better—it keeps me up at night, baby. Imagining all the ways I could take care of you, make you happy, make you mine—”

Unable to stand it any longer, you yanked him forward and connected your mouth with his, cutting him off. He groaned, surging up to tackle you back onto his mattress, his lips hungry and rough against yours. Your whole body felt like it was on fire, his lips, his touch, his heat, burning you from the inside out.

No one has ever kissed you like that before, desperate, ravenous. With an eagerness that was palpable, his heart thundering against yours as he pressed impossibly closer to you.

He pried open your lips with his, his tongue plunging into your mouth with fervid strokes. One of his hands slid under your hoodie, caressing the bare skin of your hip and up your side, leaving tingles in the wake of his calloused palm. His other hand found the crook of your knee, lifting it up to hug his waist, opening your legs so he could press closer, harder…

“George!” You gasped when he rolled his hips against yours, the hard ridge of his cock straining against his jeans, your tiny shorts offering next to no barrier.

“Fuck, I've wanted to hear that for so long,” he panted, burying his face into your neck to kiss and lick at the sensitive skin. “Sound so pretty, baby.” He rolled his hips again, and your whole body arched closer to him, desperate for more as a weak whine spilled from your lips. The seam of his jeans caught your swelling clit just right, making your entire body hum with desire.

“Merlin’s fuck—what are you doing to me?” You keened, fumbling with the buttons of his shirt, starving for the feel of his skin against yours.

You finally managed to get his shirt off, pushing it over his shoulders and he tossed it onto the floor. The pale stretch of freckled skin on his chest made your mouth water, but you didn't get to admire him for long. He tugged your hoodie over your head, casting it across the room, and revealing the near see-through lacy red thing you'd selected for the evening and didn't bother changing out of.

A broken sound hissed through his teeth. Jealousy bloomed in his eyes, his jaw feathering with irritation.

You reached up to caress his cheek, drawing his eyes to your face. “He never got to see it,” you cooed, petting the hard line of his jaw and coaxing him to relax. “All yours now, yeah? No one else's.”

His eyes searched your face, anger melting into scalding desire. “Say it again,” he rasped.

“All yours,” you hummed, pecking his lips.

His hand spread across your collarbones, long fingers stretching nearly shoulder to shoulder, and he shoved you roughly back onto the bed. The next moment, his mouth was on your chest, hot and warm through the thin lace as he smeared open-mouthed kisses along your skin. His tongue lashed one peaked nipple, drawing a cry from your lips as he sucked the bud and fabric between his teeth.

Your hands flew into his hair, tugging and guiding his mouth where you wanted him, and he went willingly, eager for any and all contact, quick to repeat the tricks that made your breath hitch.

His hand slid down your stomach, beneath he waist band of your shorts, and he dragged his middle finger through your dripping slit, a high-pitched moaning making him smile against your chest.

“G-George,” his name was a fractured whimper on your tongue, your mind going fuzzy when he curled his finger up, hitting a spot that you'd never felt before.

You bobbled your head like an idiot, grinding your hips back into his hand as he started fucking his fingers into you more deliberately, the lewd, gooey smack of your pussy filling the dorm.

“Good girl,” he praised, propping himself up to peer down at you, eyes blown wide with lust as he took in your trembling, sweat-kissed skin. “How did I get so fucking lucky?” He asked, leaning down to kiss you again, all softness and affection, so different than the relentless way he was dominating your cunt.

You pawed at his jeans, tugging at his belt. “Mmph, please—need you,” you whined against his mouth, and he groaned.

“Fuck, you're killing me, love,” he grated, his hips bucking into your hand. “You want my cock that bad?”

You nodded, still struggling with his belt.

He pushed off of you and undid his belt, removing his jeans and shoes in record time, his flushed cock slapping up against his stomach. He grabbed you by the ankle and tugged you to the edge of the bed.

“You've got a slutty little thong under here, don't you?” He asked, toying with the waistband of your shorts.

“Maybe,” you said, half-distracted by his cock jumping at the sound of your voice, the tip slick with precum.

He glanced down, following your gaze, and chuckled. “My eyes are up here, pretty girl,” he chastised with a light slap to your inner thigh. He pushed your shorts down your legs, followed by the red thong your wore underneath. He tossed the thong onto his bedside table, instead of the floor with the rest of the clothes.

You raised an eyebrow at him, about to make some teasing remark, when he dragged his cockhead through your messy slit, and all thoughts tumbled right out of your brain, dripping from between your legs.

“For later, yeah?” He said, smirking when your eyes rolled back when he tapped your clit with the head. “So next time I see that fucker, I can show him exactly what he lost.”

“George—” you started to chastise him for being cruel when he notched at your entrance, sinking halfway into your willing pussy, and you both cried out. The fullness, the stretch, was mind-melting. Better than anything you'd felt in your life.

George braced his hand beside your head, sagging forward as he hissed a curse under his breath. “Fucking shit, love,” he panted, his muscles locked up so tight he was practically vibrating. “M'done for if you keep squeezin’ me like that.”

You moaned, lifting your hips to take him a little deeper, needing more even though you felt like he was ripping you apart at the seams. “Please, Georgie,” you whimpered, clawing at his skin. “Want all of you.”

“I know, honey. I know. Just give me a second.” He leaned further down, peppering kisses across your cheeks and jaw. “Don't wanna hurt you, gotta relax f’me.”

You took a few breaths, trying to get your muscles to relax as his lips moved over your fevered skin. You felt him slide a bit deeper, the stretch not quite as intense.

“Good girl, that's it. Just a little further,” he praised, his hand gripping the flesh of your hip as he started rocking into you, slow, rolling thrusts that got incrementally longer each time, until his pelvis met yours and you were a moaning mess, writhing beneath him, desperate for more.

George straightened, his hand on the bed shifting to your shoulder, and he snapped his hips forward, forcing a cry from your lips as pleasure struck you like lightning. He set a rough pace, fucking you deep and hard, his grip on your body keeping you locked in place.

You were lost in it, helpless to the pitch and roll of his ocean, completely adrift in the pleasure he was pulling from your body. You tried to fuck back against him, but your body refused to cooperate, dumb and boneless and cockdrunk.

“So fucking pretty like this. Tell me how pretty you are, baby,” he said, his hand leaving your hip to rub tight circles over your clit.

“Mmph—fuck, so pretty,” you managed, voice throttled with lust and desperation.

“Yeah, you are.” He grinned. “My pretty girl takin’ this cock so well. He fuck you like this? Have you a drooling mess for him?”

You shook your head, nails biting into his thighs as your release prowled closer, coiling tight in your belly. “No, never,” you keened, when ratcheted up the pace sensing your looming orgasm.

“That's right, all mine. Who does this pussy belong to? Who has your heart?”

“You, you! Fuck, George, I’m—”

“Go on, love. Come for me, I'm right there with you. Come on.” His thrusts grew rougher and sloppier as his own release approached, and with a final, punishing snap of his hips, you both went flying over the edge and into white hot bliss.

You screamed and he caught the sound with a kiss, fucked you through it as your pussy clamped around him. Wringing every bit of pleasure from you both until he sagged forward, his head falling into the crook of your neck as you both gasped for breath.

He kissed along the damp column of your throat, making his way to your lips, his hands rubbing soothing circles on your trembling thighs. “Did so good,” he murmured between lazy pecks. “I'm proud of you.”

You giggled, feeling almost giddy to have George in your arms, kissing you and praising you so sweetly. “That was amazing,” you breathed, and he smiled, giving one last thrust before withdrawing and using magic to clean you both up.

“You were amazing,” he corrected. “Like I said, you're easy to love.”

Butterflies rioted in your stomach. “So are you.”

He leaned down and pressed a kiss to your forehead before handing you your hoodie and shorts. You both got semi-dressed and snuggled into his bed, his bare chest under your ear, heart thumping steadily.

You grabbed the gift bag and took out the bracelet. “Will you put it on me?”

“Of course,” he beamed, carefully taking the the jewelry and clasping it around your wrist, kissing the tender skin of your pulse before releasing you. “Looks perfect on you,” he said, looking down at your smiling face as you turned your wrist this way and that.

“I love it, Georgie. Thank you.” You snuggled closer into his side.

You rolled your eyes and placed a chocolate truffle on your tongue, letting the deliciousness fill your mouth.

Bang! There was a fumbling outside of the door and George quickly yanked the curtain shut, just before what sounded like several people came tumbling into the room.

“Get the fuck off of me, Weasley—” Jack.

“Absolutely not, you're going to apologize,” Fred replied, his voice a little too chipper for the current situation.

“I don’t have to explain myself to you, I—your girl?” Jack hissed. “She's mine.”

George chuckled. “Love, would you like to come out here and set the record straight?”

“What?” Jack barked. “She's not here—”

You slipped out of bed and tried to right yourself before stepping out of the curtain and into the room. Fred and Lee had Jack by arms, dressed only in his boxers. Harry and Ron stood off to the side, watching everything unfold with mild amusement.

George was leaning against the bed frame, lollipop in his cheek, a triumphant smirk on his face.

“We're done, Jack,” you said, getting it over with. But strangely, you didn't feel any of the guilt from before. And you shouldn't. Jack was a prick, and didn't deserve your tears or empathy.

“I miss one date and you shack up with fucking Weasley?” Jack spit, and George's eyes darkened. “Fucking whore—”

Fred and Lee shook him roughly, yelling at him to watch his mouth, and you recoiled a bit. George seemed to stay surprisingly calm, until you saw him reach for his Beater bat beside the bed.

“George, wait—”

George jabbed the tip of the bat into Jack's sternum, and the boy went pale. “If I hear you running your fucking mouth about her again, I will smash your jaw to splinters. Clear?”

Your heart lost its rhythm. You'd never seen George like this, and you loved it. Loved being his.

Jack bobbed his head yes, trembling in Fred and Lee's hold.

Lee snickered. “Prick looks like he might piss himself.”

“Now get the fuck out,” George ordered.

“Wait, one more thing,” you said, and the boys all turned their attention to you. You sauntered up to Jack, and you saw a flicker of hope in his eyes.

Fucking idiot.

You thrust your knee up, nailing him right in the bollocks, and he howled so loud the other boys dropped him into a heap on the floor.

“Fuck you,” you spit, turning on your heel and stepping into George's open arms.

“He deserved it,” you mumbled between kisses, giggling when George lifted you into the air, your legs wrapping around his waist.

“And now it's time you get what you deserve,” he smirked, laying you back down on the mattress and shifting down between your legs. “And I get my reward for absolutely crushing Valentine's Day.”

You burst out laughing, the sound shifting to moan as he licked a stripe through your slit. “You're right, best Valentine's Day ever.”

#george weasley #george weasley x reader #george weasley smut #george weasley x you #100000⁰00⁰00000/10 stars #i have to go to bed and hopefully dream about George #Youtube

404 notes · View notes

valkyriexo · 2 days ago

Text

When You Start Getting Distant Because You’re in a Relationship | Maknae Line

ᑉ³pairing; Friend! OT8 x Reader

ᑉ³genre; Headcannon, angst

ᑉ³warnings; none I think!

ᑉ³authors note; You guys seemed to like the hyung line! Here is the Maknae Version Hyung Line

╰┈➤ Han

Tries to act like nothing’s wrong, but it’s so obvious something is. He still jokes around, still sends you funny messages—but there’s hesitation now, a nervousness in his texts that wasn’t there before.

Overthinks everything. Did he say something weird? Is he being annoying? Are you ignoring him on purpose? His brain runs in circles, making up worst-case scenarios.

Writes songs about it. Instead of telling you how he feels, he pours it all into lyrics....verses full of confessions, frustration, and so much longing.

Tries to distract himself with food and games, but nothing feels the same. Even his favorite snacks taste bland when you’re not there to steal a bite. His high scores don’t feel like victories when you’re not there to celebrate.

Gets weirdly competitive with your S/O—even if they don’t know it. If they post a funny joke, he has to post something funnier. If they do something romantic, he mutters, “I could’ve done it better.”

Has a hard time Dealing with his emotions. Emotions and Han Jisung don’t mix well...so it explodes out of him all at once.

"You’re really just gonna leave me behind like this?"

The words come out sharper than he intended, but he can’t stop them. His usual playfulness is gone.

"I mean, seriously—what happened? One second, we’re fine, and the next, I barely exist to you."

He lets out a dry laugh, shaking his head. "You don’t text first anymore. You cancel plans. And every time I try to talk to you, it’s like you’re already halfway out the door."

You try to explain, but he just throws his hands up.

"I get it, okay? You have someone now. But did that mean I had to lose you completely?"

His voice is quieter now, but his eyes, usually so full of light, are clouded with something else.

"I was supposed to be that person."

His throat bobs as he swallows hard.

"You think I didn’t notice? The way I felt whenever you were around? The way I’d drop everything just to see you smile?" He laughs bitterly. "I knew it before I even admitted it to myself."

Then, finally, his voice barely above a whisper—

"But I guess I was too late, huh?"

And for once, Jisung has no joke to cover up the pain.

╰┈➤ Felix

Tries to be supportive, even when it hurts. He forces a smile, tells you he’s happy for you, and pretends like his heart isn’t sinking every time you mention your S/O.

Still checks up on you, even if you don’t check up on him. Sends you little “Did you eat?” or “Get home safe” texts, even when you stop replying as fast as you used to.

Bakes way too much. His kitchen turns into an emotional war zone....cookies, brownies, cakes, anything to keep himself busy. But no matter how many sweets he makes, nothing takes away the bitter feeling in his chest.

Tries to keep up his usual affection, but it feels… different. He hesitates before reaching for a hug, pulls away too quickly, laughs a little softer when you ruffle his hair.

Plays video games as an escape. But even when he wins, it doesn’t feel as satisfying when you’re not there to celebrate with him.

Finally breaks when he realizes you’re truly slipping away. He wanted to be patient, wanted to be the good friend, but that didnt go as planned.

"You don’t need me anymore, do you?"

Felix’s voice is quiet, almost trembling, but his eyes are locked onto yours...searching, begging for an answer he’s afraid to hear.

"I mean… I get it," he laughs weakly, forcing a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. "You have someone now. You’re happy. That’s all I ever wanted."

He pauses, swallows hard.

"But… was I ever that important to you?"

Your breath catches, and he takes a shaky step back, hands clenching at his sides.

"Because it doesn’t feel like it anymore." His voice wavers, his deep tone softer than ever. "I’m still here, you know? I still—" He stops himself, letting out a quiet sigh.

Then, almost too soft to hear—

"I still love you."

It’s out before he can take it back, and when he sees your eyes widen, he lets out a small, sad chuckle.

"I tried to ignore it. I told myself it was enough just to be near you. But then you started pulling away, and suddenly, I wasn’t even part of your life anymore."

His voice cracks, and he shakes his head, looking down.

"I should’ve told you sooner, shouldn’t I?"

When he looks back up, his usual warmth is dimmer.

"But it’s too late now, isn’t it?"

╰┈➤ Seungmin

Acts like he doesn’t care—but oh, he cares. His usual teasing gets a little sharper, his sarcasm a little more pointed. He pretends everything is normal, but his eyes tell a different story.

Stops reaching out first. If you want to talk to him, you can text him. (Except he still waits for your messages, still checks his phone way too often, still hopes.)

Gets quieter around you. Normally, he always has a witty remark, a playful jab...but now, there are more pauses, more silences that stretch a little too long.

Starts staying late at practice, distracting himself with work. If he can’t talk to you, he’ll at least be productive about it.

Refuses to admit he’s jealous, even when it’s painfully obvious. If someone points it out, he scoffs, “Jealous? Of what? Please.” (Meanwhile, his grip on his water bottle tightens.)

Finally breaks when he catches you actively avoiding him. He was fine with being second place.....until he realizes he’s not even in the running anymore.

"Are you serious?"

Seungmin’s voice is steady.....too steady. He stares at you, his expression unreadable, but there’s something burning behind his eyes.

"So this is how it is now?" He lets out a short, humorless laugh. "You don’t even bother pretending anymore, huh?"

You shift uncomfortably, and he shakes his head, jaw clenching.

"You didn’t even notice, did you?" His tone is sharp, but there’s something underneath it...something fragile, something aching.

"I stopped texting first. I stopped calling. I stopped everything just to see if you’d even care. And guess what?" He exhales sharply, looking away for a moment before meeting your gaze again.

"You didn’t."

The words hang in the air, heavier than either of you expected.

For a second, he looks like he wants to stop himself. Like he wants to shove the words back down. But then he sighs, running a hand through his hair.

"Do you even know how stupid I feel?" His voice drops lower, quieter. "Standing here, saying all this, when I already know how it ends?"

Then, almost as if the confession is being dragged out of him—

"I liked you, you know."

A bitter smile tugs at his lips.

"Maybe I still do."

His fingers curl into fists at his sides, but his voice stays painfully steady.

"But I’m not going to beg for your attention."

With one last glance...one that lingers just a second too long...he steps back.

"So if you’re going to keep pushing me away, then fine. I’ll stop trying."

╰┈➤ Jeongin

Tries to play it cool but completely fails. He acts like everything is fine, but his smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes anymore.

Laughs less around you. Normally, he lights up when you’re near, but now, his laughter feels forced...like he’s just going through the motions.

Overthinks everything. Did he do something wrong? Did he annoy you? Or are you just done with him? His thoughts spiral, but he never asks, too scared of the answer.

Becomes awkwardly formal. Where he used to call you cute nicknames or casually tease you, now it’s just “Oh, hey,” and “Yeah, sure.” Like he’s putting up a wall between you.

Starts avoiding you, even though you’re the one pulling away. If you don’t need him, maybe it’s better if he keeps his distance too. But it hurts more than he thought it would.

He sees you with your S/O and realizes he’s not the person you run to anymore. He wasn’t going to say anything, but his heart doesn’t listen.

"Do you even miss me?"

The question slips out before Jeongin can stop it, and when you turn to look at him, his lips press together like he already regrets saying it.

"Because it really doesn’t feel like you do."

His voice is soft, but there’s a rawness to it....like he’s been holding this in for way too long.

"I get it," he says, forcing a smile. "You’re happy. You have someone now. But..." His voice trails off, and he lets out a small, bitter laugh. "I guess I just didn’t think I’d lose you completely."

You start to say something, but he shakes his head.

"I used to be the one you told everything to. The one who could make you laugh even on your worst days." He swallows hard, voice growing quieter. "Now, I’m just someone you used to be close with, huh?"

He looks away, hands shoved in his pockets like he’s trying to keep himself together.

"I really liked you, you know."

The confession is barely above a whisper, like he doesn’t even want to hear himself say it.

"But I guess that doesn’t matter anymore, does it?"

ઇଓ networks

@skzstarnet @supernovanetwork @k-labels @straykidsland

ઇଓ Taglist

@stayceebs97 @everythingboutkpop @velvetmoonlght @ririwhiskers @ch4nn13luv

@stellasays45 @imperfectlyperfectprincess1 @changbiddies0325 @ayyonoona @mellhwang

@bowsnbang @jisungsbff01 @miin17 @lyracarvahall@hopefulrascalstatesmantoad

@sunoosfavsposts @kayleefriedchicken @yougottobekittenme @jaiuneamesolitaiire

@intrikatie @chrizzztopherbang @catlove83 @vernorica123@pixie-felix

Want to be removed? send me an ask<3

52 notes · View notes

wordsofwhimsy · 2 days ago

Text

[A/N: It’s been a looooong time since I last wrote any type of fanfiction, but man, there is something about Mark Grayson that is just… ugh. He’s got me so messed up I had to create a whole new account just to write for him. Lord help me. Any who, I hope some other freaks out there get joy out of this~ Also sorry my formating is lousy. I don't really know how to do all that fancy stuff.]

WARNING: Smut, language. ~☆~

When Mark first saw you, a feeling curled in the pit of his stomach that he couldn’t quite articulate. At first he thought it was simply the adrenaline from the battle he was currently fighting in. The enemy had surprised him, knocking him out of the air and causing him to land hard on his feet in the middle of the road. As the dust cloud settled from the small crater he’d created, his eyes landed on you. Your hair blew in a flurry around your face and between the [color] tresses, he could see your expression. A combination of fear, anxiety, and could it be… excitement?

Your eyes locked with his and Mark swore that time slowed down. He sat there, seemingly stunned, looking back at you. His mind drew blank, lips parting slightly as if he suddenly needed to say something. But before any words could come the nameless enemy made himself known again, breaking Mark’s gaze as he stepped directly into his view. Mark’s brows furrowed, fists clenched, and he lunged forward. The fight was over in an instant. As he took a breath and looked back, he found that you were gone. A crowd had formed, and most people now cheering at Invincible’s victory. He gave them a smile and wave, only now noticing the sweat that had built on the back of his neck. Mark swallowed, exhaled heavily from his nose, and exploded upward into the sky to go home.

In the coming hours and days, Mark couldn’t get you off his mind. This is how he knew the feeling in his stomach had nothing to do with adrenaline—at least not from that fight. A week had passed, and Mark was sat in his hero costume on the edge of a bridge looking out over the river. It must have been a quarter to midnight, most people home and in bed. So when a warm voice abruptly rang out to him, breaking the silence, he felt his heart stutter. “You go by Invincible, right?”

He turns to look over his shoulder and sees your small frame, arms folded over your chest while your fingers tight gripped onto your jacket sleeves. Your head was slightly cocked to the side, a single delicate eyebrow quirked upward. “Yeah,” he responds dumbly, making you smile. Mark’s heart stuttered again.

“I was hoping I’d run into you again. I wanted to thank you for the other day.” You take a cautious step closer towards him. You had a fear of heights and didn’t dare get close enough to peer over the edge of the bridge. Mark’s lips turn slightly upward in a soft smile.

“That’s what heroes are for,” he says with a very subtle hint of amusement in his voice. “I’m glad no one was hurt.” Mark swings his legs back over the edge and now stands to face you. He’s got nearly a foot of height on you, and up close you can clearly see the beautiful sculpture that is his body tightly wrapped in his suit. A warmness fires up low in your abdomen.

“Make that two of us,” you laugh and smile fondly at him. “[Name].” You extend your hand in introduction, which he takes without hesitation. His hand is warm as it folds around yours, and he notices how cold you feel.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, [Name].” You subconsciously furl in your lower lip at the sound of your name on his tongue, cheeks flushing the faintest shade of ruby. Mark notices and finds himself becoming overcome with the same feelings. What is this…?

“This might sound weird, but…” Your eyes flicker around nervously as you build up the courage to get out the words you want to say. “Can I buy you a coffee, or something?” A toothy smile curls onto his lips.

“I don’t typically go to cafes in my suit…” he trails off, stare glancing down at his attire.

“I can make us a pot at my house,” you reply almost too eagerly, not missing a beat. Mark is stunned by this proposal, if only for a moment. He can hear your heart beating loudly in your chest, and the redness in your cheeks has deepened. Seeing his expression you quickly tack on, “I live right around the corner.” Mark’s smile was gentle, and behind the lenses of his suit his eyes softened.

“That sounds nice.”

It was only a five minute walk to your place, and you were grateful to be out of the cold. Moving into your kitchen you shuffle around to start the coffee. Mark watched you, unable to help himself as he looked over your body. You were undoubtedly beautiful, but beyond that there was a deep, primal feeling that overcame him just from the sight you. It had been a month since he and Amber had ended things, and maybe that was complicating his emotions, but he could not deny this one thing: Mark needed you.

“I hope decaf is okay,” you say to him over your shoulder as you scoop the grounds into the coffee filter. “I have to be at work early tomorrow.” You don’t notice that Mark is now directly behind you until you feel his large, strong hands on your shoulders. Your body stiffens.

“That’s fine,” Mark hums as his hand slowly, ever so slowly, move down your arms. Swallowing the lump in your throat, you turn your head back and looked up at him. Even through his lenses you could feel how heavy his stare was beating down on you. Your mind raced, the warmth in your lower abdomen now igniting all of you.

“Maybe…” you mumble, slightly breathy from your nerves. “After coffee, we can have—” you swallow again and run your tongue over your dry lips. “Dessert?”

The smile was gone from Mark’s face, now replaced with a stern and serious expression. “You know, [Name], I think we scan skip the coffee all together.” And just like that he was all over you, hands feverishly groping at your body and only waiting a moment before touching your most sensitive spots. His lips pressed demandingly into yours and you completely melted into his touch, fingers trying their best to grip onto the fabric of his costume so that you can pull yourself closer to him. His calloused fingers quickly found their way under your shirt and reached around your back, snapping the clasp of your bra in an instant. It falls to the floor and he squeezes your breast with one hand while the other hand grabs a handful of your ass.

You reach up to the seem of his mask with the intent of taking it off when he quickly and strongly grabs hold of your wrist. He breaks the kiss and says, “The suit has to stay on. I’m sorry.” You took this moment to catch your breath, said nothing, and nodded your head in understanding.

“Does mine?” You ask cheekily. Mark gives you a hungry smirk, and before you could think to move he’d completely undressed you and you laid on your back on the kitchen floor. He’d pulled the front of his pants down just low enough to free his thick cock, which he now held in his hand and had positioned unwaveringly at your warm entrance.

“Tonight, [Name],” he huskily murmured into your ear. “You belong to Invincible.” He presses deeply into you and a load moan explodes from your lips.

“Oh my God,” you breathe, eyes squeezed shut as you focus on taking all of him in. He groans, pausing to let you get accustomed to his size, before quickly finding a rhythm that told the truth of where his mind was at—he needed this, needed you, desperately. Your legs come up to wrap around his lower back and hold him close to you. He uses one hand to hold himself up beside your face while the other grips firmly onto your thigh. His teeth are clenched together, and low grunt rumbling in his throat with every hard thrust.

“Take it, [Name], just take it,” he insists through his teeth, almost aggressively. “Show me how grateful you are.” You nod your head desperately, lips parted and quivering. A lightshow sparked behind your eyelids and your mind was completely blank. “Tell me you need this,” he commands of you.

“I need this,” you plead.

“Again.”

“I need this.”

Abruptly Mark pulls out and flips you onto your stomach. Gripping you by the hips, he slams back into your warmth and you both moan in unison. He takes one hand and holds you down by the back of the head, smashing your cheek into the tile floor as your drool senselessly. His thrusts become forceful and deeper than you knew was possible, forcing a long, rambling moan out of your throat. “You need saving huh, you little slut?” he growls.

“Yesss,” you whine, wiggling beneath his stone grip and pushing your ass up until him.

“Of course you fucking do…” You mind was a puddle in the moment and couldn’t form any meaningful thoughts, but later upon reflection you realized that this night was about a lot more than just sex for Mark.

“Say you need me,” he commanded of you again.

“I need you!” You cried back immediately.

“Louder.”

“I NEED you!!” You were pleading at this point and the sound of your voice sent him over the edge. Not wanting to finish alone, he reaches a hand around your front side and found the nub of your clit. You became an unmanageable mess at the overwhelming sensations as he rubbed circles over the sensitive bundle. It was only another minute before you both finished, Mark pulling out at the last possible second and unloading onto your ass.

“Fuuuck,” he groaned, his hand wrapped around his dick as he gave it a few final strokes. You laid helplessly on the tile, now thankful for its relieving coolness. Mark sat back on his knees, breathing deeply to try and recompose himself. You closed your eyes and focused on coming back down, too.

“Thank you, [Name],” he hushed after several moments of silence. “I needed that.” He was now back on his feet, and you used all your strength to roll over so you could be looking at him. He was fully dressed back into his suit, and you both just stared at each other blankly.

“Any time?” You respond, not really sure what to say to that. A hint of a smirk quirked onto his lips, and then he was gone leaving behind nothing but a gust of wind. You smiled, breathed, and laid back down onto the tile.

Not exactly the “thank you” you had in mind for Invincible, but hey, at least he appreciated it.

#mark grayson #mark grayson x reader #invincible x reader #invincible fanfic #mark grayson smut #invincible smut #mark grayson x reader smut #invincible x reader smut #invincible

50 notes · View notes

harbinger-savior-catalyst · 2 days ago

Note

What's your thoughts on melanie and folly after NULLS dialogue dropped??

Idk I've seen some persons theory about them knowing eachother to be confirmed on here. Just curious on what your thoughts are?

oooo, i didnt get a lot of NULL when i was playing last night so i had to read up on the wiki, and OH LORD IS THIS GUY SOMETHING

i am both in love and insanely curious as to why he calls Folly 'the dreamer', it adds some kinda layer to their relationship that i yearn to pick apart like an operation board game.

the balls this guy has to essentially deadname her, not even just around her co-workers, but to the general public if we consider the NPCS are mostly aware of our existence and each others when on the elevator, and you can sense the anger, yet she inevitably gives into what he asks, it's fucking insane, probably the closest another NPC has gotten to learning ANYTHING about how she feels about her past that isn't some kinda 'random emo splurge'. its sad to know that thats all she thinks life is, pain, suffering, anguish, but thats all she knows now, that damn parasite

another half of me wants to read it as understanding and acknowledgement rather than something hes doing out of malice and authority, like there is some sense of understanding that they're both disjointed people, mentally broken and unable to fix themselves to their greatest ability, both striving to become whole again just in different ways.

they're coworkers who, if they sat down with each other and talked like normal people (which they cannot do) would probably have a lot more in common than they'd expect, but i can also see them both standing around toolbox speedway watching people explode or whatever just for the fun of it and having a laugh together if they were both bored. it genuinely, in this situation, really depends on both of their moods and how fast the wind blows

as for melanie...holy fucking shit????? ok. very interesting.

seeing her try to interact at least slightly is very on brand, i love how no matter what she tries to bring the best out of people and herself, even if they don't share or reciprocate it.

rlly interesting to see her memory get fuzzy as soon as the dreamer is mentioned too, yeah. i think the only character who's gone through similar is poob during a conversation WITH melanie, i have a feeling theres something in her brain that is wired to completely block out conversations about her or her past, similar to a trauma response of sorts, but 100% a legitimate software thing in this case bc shes a tv head.

going back to this though, thats absolutely fucking tragic, because the only time that really doesn't happen is in conversations with folly herself, where melanie CAN'T ignore it, has to stare her past right in her face, and desperately wish it was the way it was before as she begs her not to look at her. she'd rather forget all of the good moments she had with her instead of remember and have to deal with who she used to be friends with staring back at her as nothing but a monstrous husk of what she used to be, all caused by trauma she probably has no idea about and could never even attempt to fix.

I LOVE THESE TWO GRAHHHHHHHHHHHHHH WHAT THE FUCKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKK

#fitzdumping #asks #regretevator #regretevator null #regretevator folly #regretevator melanie #folly #melanie #null #this took a long time to write lol #i wanted to get rlly in depth sorry #im very clinical

24 notes · View notes

crowsofdarkness · 2 days ago

Text

Fallen: Chapter One

-gif not mine. credit to owner-

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x Fallen Angel! Female Reader.

Content Warnings: language, angst, fluff, kidnapping, violence.

Summary: The new Avengers recruit has many secrets, one of which Bucky is desperate to discover.

Authors Note: This is a little AU with Bucky! It will have six chapters! Let me know if you want to be tagged!

Tags: @that-blonde-girl @starfly-nicole @bookofriverr @civilbucky

The silence was deafening, almost hurting my ears, as I sat on the edge of the bed in what had become my new home. The four walls encased me in causing my breath to become heavy and erratic so I did what I always did when I felt like this; walk out to the balcony of my room, letting the fresh air fill my lungs.

Birds were chirping, the sun warmed my skin, and the lake behind my new home rippled with the wind. Some would call this scenery beautiful, relaxing, and would kill to have a view like this.

And that was something I had done in order to receive this view.

I never thought of this as a paradise; this was a prison.

A sharp pain pierced through my spine and I grasped the railing of my balcony, a hard hiss falling through my lips. I let out deep breaths while I screwed my eyes shut to ease through the pain, something I had done so many times before.

Once the pain had subsided, I slowly opened my eyes and continued to stare out to the scenery below, hoping to cure the growing boredom. I had been living at this compound for a few weeks now and in that time, no one had come to check on how I was doing or if I needed someone to talk to.

I never did. I was fine by myself.

They were all too scared of me and what I could do. They all feared that I would turn against them in a second; I wouldn’t. I promised myself that I wouldn’t use my powers against anyone ever again. Ever since that day where I had gone too far and needed to be stopped, I knew that I could never trust myself around anyone.

Anger radiated through me as I blasted my way towards the hoard of people, not caring if anyone was injured in the process. My mind was overtaken with grief. It had been years since that fateful day but I still couldn’t recover from the loss. The pain of losing her was too much to handle.

The screams fueled me as I rolled back my shoulders, large, black, wings exploded from my back. A few feathers fell to the ground at my feet and with a quick look around me I could see the fear in everyone’s eyes.

“The devil is here. We’re all going to die.”

I merely smirked at the man that crouched at my feet. “I am not the devil but I can’t promise that you won’t make it out alive. Where is Ivan?”

He shook his head. “I don’t know who you’re talking about!”

A fire ball appeared in my hand and with the other, I lifted the man up by his shirt. “Don’t make me ask again. Ivan is in charge of the Hydra group that’s hiding in this god forsaken city and I know that everyone here knows where the base is.”

Bringing the heat closer to the man’s face, I smirked again. “Now, I’m going to ask again; Where the fuck is Ivan?”

He continued to remain silent so with a shrug, I gripped the man's cheek with the flames and his screams vibrated against the walls surrounding us. The smell of burnt flesh filled my senses and I would be lying if I said that it didn’t bring a small smile to my lips.

Hissing out in pain, I felt a hard object slam into my left wing, causing me to drop the man onto the concrete. I spun on my heels and came face to face with two people that I knew were on my heels, chasing me through the world.

“Well, it looks like the Avengers finally caught up to me,” I spoke while picking up the object that hit me.

Captain America’s shield.

“You’ve been on the run long enough, Y/N. You need to come with us,” Steve Rogers demanded.

I raised my brows. “You know my name? Wow, I can’t believe I’m on your radar.”

He didn’t find my sarcasm as funny as I had.

The man in the metal suit next to him sighed and lifted his palm to me, a light beam powering up. “Rogers wanted to be the nice guy; hoping some sweet talk will make you come with us. But clearly we have to do this the hard way.”

I mimicked his hand, fire appearing. “I can do that too, Stark.”

He motioned towards my wings. “Hydra do that to you?”

“These old things?” I flapped them a few times, creating winds around us. “I’ve had these for centuries.”

“You need to come with us,” Steve repeated.

I groaned and closed my palm, the flames disappearing. “Trust me, as much as I love the thought of being detained by Captain America, I’ve got better things to do.”

“Clearly,” Tony noted while looking at the man who was writhing in pain at my feet.

I clicked my tongue. “Casualty.”

The shield clanked at Steve’s feet and when he picked it up, I gave him a wink. “Later boys.”

Before my wings let me take flight, I felt a hard blow to the back of my head which knocked me to the ground, unconscious.

With a sigh, I opened my palm and felt heat spread through my veins, flames erupting. They danced along my fingertips as I stared into the bright embers, letting the flames distract me from my thoughts and problems. With a snap, the flame jumped to my other hand and I let the fire ball jump back and forth between my hands, almost as if I had an actual ball in my hands.

The door next door to me, a large figure stepping onto their own balcony. Within seconds the flames extinguished in my hands when I saw who had stepped out.

Sunlight caught the vibranium of his left arm as he sat on one of the chairs, book in his lap. I could hear a soft tune coming from his lips and I bit my lip at the sight of him in a pair of black sweat pants and a tight shirt to match.

His short hair suited him better than the last time I had seen him.

He must have sensed me staring because when our eyes met, my breath hitched in my throat. The corners of his lips pulled in a small smile, hoping to get a chance to finally speak to me. I had done my damndest to avoid him because I couldn’t face what I was sent to do all those years ago.

“Hi.”

His voice was soft but I could still hear him even if we were a few feet apart.

I kept my head down low and snuck back into my room, the door slamming behind me. With my back against it, I slid down to my knees as memories of the first time I had met Bucky Barnes tangled me in.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #sebastian stan #bucky barnes and reader #the winter soldier #marvel #the winter soldier x reader #the winter soldier smut #bucky barnes x agent!reader #james barnes smut #james barnes imagine #james bucky barnes #james barnes #james buchanan barnes #bucky barnes x fallen angel reader #fallen bucky barnes

42 notes · View notes

butlervibesonly · 2 days ago

Text

𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐬 |PART TWO| Wil Ohmsford

• Summary: You never thought you would reveal the real secret of your escaping. But now that you are stuck with Wil – nothing else matters.

• Pairing: Wil Ohmsford x human! reader

• Warnings: just fluff? I don’t know yall, maybe slow falling for Wil and backwards

Sleep took over your body really hard. You have been sleeping all night and all in Wil’s arms. And he hasn’t moved at all. But now he must. Carefully, he shifts his arm, trying not to wake you up, but the absence of warmth must stir, as you let out a soft sigh. You are waking up.

Your eyes flutter open, slow and groggy with sleep. It takes you a moment to focus, to realize where you actually are. A breath holds between you and Wil. Your gaze flickers from his chest to his face, and for the first time, he wonders what you see when you look at him, being all aware of surroundings around without being absolutely tired.

He expects you to pull away, to escape his arms, to stutter out an apology. But you don’t. You only blink sleepily, the smallest furrow forming between your brows, as if your mind is still trying to catch up. “Mmm…You’re warm,” you mumble.

He doesn’t know what to say to that. He should say something. Shift away maybe… Try to break the moment before it settles into something neither of you are prepared for. But then you do something he doesn’t expect. You relax even more in his arms.

Not a slightest hint of hesitation, not embarrassment. Just trust. Just like he wished earlier this morning. It still unravels something in him, something he has no name for.

“You should keep resting,” he says warmly. “Your leg still needs time.” You hum softly, closing your eyes again. And then, perhaps because you’re still half asleep, or perhaps because you simply want to, you snuggle closer. Not much, but enough so that your head pokes his chin.

He exhales slowly, steadying himself against the way his jaw clenches. He should stop this. He should move. But he doesn’t. He feels the bunch of butterflies explode in his stomach. Wil lets his hand rest lightly against your back, tracing patterns on the fabric of your shirt.

He notices you are still wearing the old, dirty and probably even ruined clothes from earlier and he thinks for a while. “Your clothes are ruined… I can borrow you something from my closet.” he whispers and you open your eyes. “Wil… You've sacrificed enough for me, you can't even lend me yours…”

“I can,” he steps in. He looks down at you and smiles. “It’s just clothes, Y/n. I can get new ones.” Wil eventually sits up from bed and walks to search for something for you to wear. He find his old shirt and some tight shirt. “You could have this as a… skirt if you’re okay with it.”

You nod and Wil grabs his scissors to cut the top of the shirt to make it a skirt. He then hands it to you. “Here,” he says warmly. “I- uh.. I won’t look. I will make something for you to eat, you must be starving.” he adds and walks to the kitchen to leave you some privacy.

You start to change, carefully around your leg cause it aches as hell. He hears your whining, and as much as he wants to turn and help you - he can’t. Once you are changed you lay back in the bed and glance at Wil.

The bed suddenly feels colder without Wil in it. The air is thick with the scent of something warm, something rich and savory, and your stomach clenches in response of it. It’s only then that when you realize how truly hungry you are. How long you’ve gone without a real meal.

You push yourself up slowly, wincing as the ache pulses through your leg. A sign that the healing salve and rest have already begun to work. Wil stands in the kitchen, still back turned to you. The golden light of morning catches the sharp angles of his face, highlighting the quiet focus in his expression.

“You can cook?” you ask as you watch him move in the kitchen gracefully. Wil glances over his shoulder, his gaze sweeping over you like he’s rethinking whether you should even be sitting up. “You need to eat...”

Slowly, you shift to the edge of the bed, testing your weight before attempting to stand. You barely make it halfway before his voice cuts through the room. “Y/n, don’t.” You freeze at his sudden sharp tone.

Wil is already moving towards you. He stops beside you before you can protest, his hands hovering near your arms, ready to help you if needed. “You shouldn’t be walking on that leg. Not yet,” he says, his tone much softer now.

You sigh as he leads you carefully to the bed. “I can’t just lie there forever!” Wil’s gaze softens as he looks at you with those blu eyes you love so much already. “You can, actually...” Then, as if deciding there’s no point in arguing, he walks back to the kitchen and serve a soup into the bowl.

He hands it to you without a word, then sits beside you on the bed, his arms resting on his knee. Wil is quiet. He seems to have something on his mind that he simply can’t say out loud.

When he glances at you, he sees you gobbling down your soup so quickly, as if you've never eaten anything in your entire life. The warmth spreads through you instantly, the rich flavors grounding you in a way you didn’t expect. “You didn’t have to do all this,” you murmur after a few slow sips.

He looks at you, his eyes roaming over you. “I did.” Something in your chest flutters as he says it. There’s something unspoken in the space between you, something that lingers in the way he watches you, the way he stays close…

“It tastes good,” you say eventually, if only to break the tension. His lips twitch almost into the smile you like so much . “I am glad,” he says, looking down at his feet. “I don’t get chances of cooking for someone, so… Glad I have this opportunity.”

And for some reason, that makes your cheek flutter. You focus on eating, pretending not to notice the way his gaze lingers on you. You can’t say why he looks at you like this. Whether it’s because he is thinking how long will you stay or how shortly you will stay.

Or something else? Wil hasn’t moved, hasn’t pulled away. And even though he says nothing, you can feel that there is something in his eyes. Something you can’t read but can see.

You set the empty bowl aside and glance at him. Wil watches every single move you do. Almost as if he’s studying you, though not in the way one examines a patient, no… This is something else. “Thank you,” you say softly, wiping the soup from your lips.

He nods and smiles. Finally he smiles again. “You needed it.” Wil’s words are simple, but they stir something in you. Butterflies or something. You never got such an attention and care ever before. And that simply settles something in you the way you can’t explain.

You shift, ignoring the way your leg protests. His gaze at your legs that is now exposed to him due to the skirt he created for you. “You should not overdo yourself.” he says as he checks on your leg.

After a while Wil stands up. You almost think he is going to leave you there or something. But he doesn’t. Instead, he moves to the shelf along the wall, looking through some glass jars that includes herbs and other ingredients. Then he returns with a small cup and hands it to you.

“What’s this?” you ask, looking at it. It smells just like his hut, herbal. “Something to help you rest, Y/n.” You eye the drink, considering his offer. “I slept so much already I-”

“You’re healing,” he interrupts gently, placing a hand on your knee. “And you still haven’t fully recovered from the days you went without sleep, you need to gain as much energy as possible.” The way he says it… so gently and carefully. You take a sip, the taste of chamomile and honey sweet and soft.

“I can sit there with you until it starts its effect…” he offers after you drink it. Purpose of this drink is not to make your heart beats fast, is it? Until you realize what Wil just said. You lower the cup slightly, looking up at him. “Wil… You are very kind but… You don’t have to do all of this….”

“I know.” he says quickly. “But I want to.” He wants to. He wants to do all of this. He needs to. You feel warmth spreading through your heart. It’s not just about the tea, or the way he’s been taking care of you. It’s about the way he stays. He never left your side unless necessary.

You settle back in the bed, still watching him as he pulls his chair closer, sitting beside the bed once more again. The room is quiet except for the faint crackle of the fire and occasional bird chirping from outside. After a while of thinking you ask what you wanted to for a while. “Why are you doing all of this?”

Wil doesn’t respond right away, not even look at you. His fingers are tracing the grain of the wooden armrest. When he finally meets your gaze, there’s something softer there, something you’re not sure he has ever let you see before.

“Because you need someone, Y/n.” he says simply. “And I want to be that someone for you.” There is nothing dramatic about the way he says it. No hesitation, no uncertainty. Just quiet truth. Wil says it so simply that you don’t even what to believe it.

Actually… You don’t even know how to respond to that. So instead, you take another sip of tea, pretending not to notice the way your fingers tremble slightly against the cup.

The evening shifts in after you have been sleeping whole afternoon. The fire crackles softly, casting flickering shadows across the walls as you’ve seen yesterday. You sit in Wil’s bed, your leg still propped up on a small cushion. Wil’s care has done you well. Your strength is returning, and the pain has dulled to an ache rather than a sharp reminder of your broken bone.

You let out a soft sigh, feeling lighter than you have in a long time. You feel so satisfied, or at least you think you do until you run your fingers through your hair and feel the tangled mess it’s become. This is how Wil sees me, you think for yourself.

You groan under your breath, trying to untangle the knots. Wil, who is working on something in his kitchen, notices. He gaze at you and see that you struggle with your hair.

Without a word, he disappears for a moment and returns with a wooden comb in his hand. He stands in front of you, looking at you with a smile. “Turn around.” You just look at him, blinking confusedly. “What?”

His grip tighten around the brush nervously, but his face remains unreadable. “You’re struggling… Let me.” You are still surprised by his offer. Letting him do this feels…strange. But the way he says it makes you turn without another word.

You feel as Wil sits behind you, close enough that you can feel the warmth of his body at your back. He takes the comb closer to your hair and starts. The first stroke is careful, not wanting it to be weird. He begins at your ends, stroking through the tangles without pulling. His fingers brush against the back of your neck accidentally, slightly, but enough to send a shiver down your spine.

Wil pauses when he notices. “Did I hurt you?”

“N-No.” you stutter. After your reassurance he continues. There is deadly silence between the two of you except for the sound of the comb gliding through your hair. Each stroke is patient, and there’s something so soothing about it. You close your eyes, allowing yourself to relax under his touch. Not forget to mention — Wil may seem to be so natural in this but he never combed a girl’s hair ever before.

And he is the first boy to ever brush your hair. When he is done he sets to comb aside on the bed. “There,” he says quietly. You turn slightly to look at him over your shoulder. “Thank you so much.”

Wil smiles at you for a moment before he nods. “Come sit by the fire. You’ve been resting all day,” he says suddenly. “You deserve to breathe some fresh air too.”

He stands, offering his arm to help you. You take his offer, trying to ignore the way your hand fit so easily against his. Almost as if it was made for it. Wil helps you walk, and carefully watches your steps so that you don’t push much pressure on your leg.

You both sit by the fire, the flames casting warm light over his sharp features. The night sky is full of stars that you have seen during those sleepless nights. Now they look much prettier. You glance at Wil and he doesn’t speak right away, letting the silence set between you as he throws you a blanket.

You realize that you haven’t told him why did he found you like this. Restless, hopeless and without a destination to reach. You pull the blanket around yourself, staring into the fire and you know he is waiting for your explanation. “I ran away...”

Wil furrows his eyebrows, but doesn’t look surprised. “Why? If I may ask.” You hesitate, not knowing how frankly this will sound. You’ve carried this secret for so long, convinced no one would understand. But here, with him, you feel like the words can finally escape your heart.

“I wanted some freedom,” you start. “I’ve been told what to do my whole life, what or how to be. I wasn’t much allowed to make my own choices. I was dictated where I’d live, who I’d marry, what kind of life I’d have. I didn’t want that. So I left.” you exhale.

You glance at Wil, expecting him to start laughing at your naivety. But there’s nothing like that. His face remains still, but there’s something in his eyes. Something deeper, maybe understanding.

“So you’ve been alone ever since?” he asks. You nod and tuck yourself in the blanket. “I thought it would be easier. I didn’t expect how exhausting it would be. How lonely I’d: become.” His gaze flickers into the fire and for a long moment, he doesn’t speak.

“You’re not alone, anymore.” Wil replies to you softly. The words are simple, but there is something of much more behind them. You don’t know what to say to that, again, so you just watch him. He is even more precious. Should you stay, or… should you go?