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supervillain-smut · 17 days ago

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Love to Hate You, Hate to Love You - Spreaver Smut ft. GN! Sparrow

Cw: Hate fucking, coarse language, use of the C word, Reaver, choking, slapping (Reaver receiving), fingering (also Reaver receiving), general roughness.

Read it on AO3!

"Good lord, you're insufferable!" Sparrow shouted at Reaver, who was far too busy having fun with shooting Lucien's men as they swarmed the catacombs Reaver considered his 'escape tunnel'.

"You're just upset I'm killing more of these scoundrels than you!" Reaver called over his shoulder, Sparrows blood practically coming to a boil in their veins. They rolled their eyes, continuing to shoot at as many of the men as Reaver would leave for them. They hated that he left none alive for them to have at, sure, but that wasn't the root of the problem and Reaver knew it.

Reaver elected to ignore the fact he was betraying Sparrow not but ten minutes earlier, and before that sent them on their way to the Shadow Court knowing full well they probably weren't coming back the same way they left; they'd clearly proved him wrong after sacrificing another's age and beauty rather than their own. That move both surprised and intrigued him, but he would never allow himself to admit it, nor be such an easy catch. He did have to admit, at least to himself, that they were also as irritating as they claimed he was.

Stupid Sparrow and holding him accountable for the things he did, and playing hard to get themselves. He'd never been denied so harshly before. Why he didn't just shoot them down and be rid of them there and then, he'd no idea.

BANG

Sparrow recoiled, clutching their ear and cursing at the gunshot directly next to their ear. They glared daggers at Reaver, and conjured them, too. The daggers hovered around them like a halo, all ten of them poised, pointed and ready to strike at him. His gun stayed pointed to the ground for now, his shot faster than those blades, he was sure of it.

'They don't stand a chance.' Reaver thought.

'He doesn't stand a chance.' Sparrow thought.

They remained in a stand-off for what felt like hours, but was merely five minutes. Their eyes never left each other's; watching the other Hero's every twitch and shuffle, and eventually they began to wander Reaver was handsome, no doubt about that... A mask, no more, no less. They were sure of it. What else would the Shadow Court have given him? They were willing to bet he was ugly without their help.

Sparrow was feisty; Reaver loved that. If only it wasn't accompanied by such bull- headedness and moral upstanding. They were corrupt deep down, they had to be, No one is that good for no reason or reward. He'd uncover the truth and drag them through hell to reveal it to the world.

Their eyes met, ceasing their roaming and internal judgements, before they both struck. Reaver was quick as a whip, aiming, cocking his gun and firing in less than a second. Sparrow was just as quick and agile, his bullet deflected by the point of a blade as they ducked for good measure. Reaver growled at his failed attempt, his anger only rising as they cocked a brow, challenging him with a smirk.

They fought with all the skills they had in their arsenal, but ended in a tie every time. Not a single blow landed, successful dodges and deflections at every turn. Somehow, they ended up closer than when they began, Reaver resorting to attempting to pistol-whip Sparrow as they succesfully ducked and tackled him to the ground, Reaver was quick to use the momentum to his advantage, pinning Sparrow to the ground.

His gun at the side of their head, their hands pinned above their head with one hand, and an angrily determined expression...

*click*

Reaver glared, confused

*click* *click*

Out of ammunition. Reaver examined his gun in disbelief. He'd never run out of ammo before.

Reality quickly set in and the pair realized just exactly where they'd ended up. It was a dead end, a small fork in the main path; you couldn't find it on purpose. More importantly, Reaver had Sparrow's hands pinned above their head, his body slotted between their legs, which were also pressed against his hips in an attempt to kick him off, the both of them panting breathlessly from their efforts. Silence was finally present in the tunnels as their eyes raked over the other.

Both their clothes were messy with dirt, only Sparrow's was accompanied with blood, and Sparrow took the moment to admire the way Reaver's hair fell in his face, finally messed enough for their liking; it was too perfect. Reaver admired his own view, Sparrow's shirt parted just enough to give him the most tantalizing look at their collar and shoulders, not open nearly as wide as he would've liked it to be. It was teasing him.

Their eyes met after minutes of roaming, and Reaver almost flinched at the anger that met him within their eyes, but there was also something else. He didn't get to figure it out before he was shown exactly what it was, Sparrows lips crashing onto his feverishly. Angrily.

They were so angry, furious with him, the way they bit his lip told him as much; why were they doing this, then? He cared not to think too hard about it, especially not when their legs wrapped around his waist, pressing them flush with one another. Reaver groaned into the kiss, nipping their bottom lip in revenge, forfeiting his hold on their wrists to wrap a hand around their neck, the other holding their hip. Sparrow's hands flew up to hold the back of his neck and pull at his hair.

They pulled sharply at the back of his head, forcing Reaver to part from the kiss, a loud moan echoed throughout the mines. "Damn you, Reaver. You're not supposed to be enjoying this." They growled. "Nh, I'm not? Then why are you doing this? Very mixed signals, little bird." Reaver groaned, looking down at them past his lashes, pupils blown wide with lust. "I... I don't know! To hurt you! Get my frustration out on you!" Sparrow stammered, forced to reflect on their confusing actions.

"Mh, you can still do that and get a different kind of pleasure out of... whatever this is. And, better yet, I won't even kill you for it. Yet." Reaver's tone turned to one only he could manage; a flirtatious threat.

"What makes me think I'll believe you of all 'people'?" Sparrow spat the last word like it was a joke to refer to him as such. "Ooh, you mean little minx. That one almost hurt." Reaver responded, simultaneously refusing to answer their question, the bulge in his pants throbbing against them.

Sparrows eyes flicked downwards then up again in disgust, mulling their options in their head for a few moments before pulling Reaver in towards them, a forceful movement Reaver gladly accepted as he smashed his lips onto Sparrows, hoping to bruise them. Every act was made in aggression; the way they kissed, the way Sparrows thighs threatened to squeeze all the air out of him, Reaver's grip on their neck returning the favor.

Weapons were discarded, as well as a few annoying articles of clothing such as Reaver's cloak, some belts, and any other layers that weren't shirts and pants. Those were next as Reaver's kisses strayed from Sparrow's mouth, trailing down their neck as they moaned, that god-awful smirk of Reaver's never leaving his face the entire time.

Reaver reached their collar, the point where shoulder met neck, and bit down, causing Sparrow to cry out in pain. He bit hard enough to leave one hell of a mark, but not enough to make them bleed. When Reaver pulled back to admire his work, they slapped him across the face, sending a shiver down Reaver's spine. He groaned, rolling his hips against Sparrows, causing their eyes to flutter shut as they surpressed a moan.

"Now, isn't that better?" Reaver purred in their ear, continuing his trail of kisses and bites before deft fingers pried open the strings of their shirt, exposing their chest to him at last. His mouth immediately latched onto their nipple, rolling his hips once more against their clothed crotch, Sparrows own arousal painfully obvious even through their clothes.

"Nh, Reaver! Fuck!" Sparrow cried out, pulling his hair sharply. "Mnh, if you insist." Reaver replied sarcastically, his cock painfully hard and drenching the crotch of his favorite trousers in pre-cum. He mentally shrugged; he liked it messy anyways. Reaver continued to lick, bite, and suck at their chest, letting his hands wander over their body as they ran their fingers through his hair; it almost felt nice if not for the short tug at the end of each stroke.

Reaver found if he rolled his hips too slowly, their hips would buck against his own, pulling him impossibly closer to gain some sort of friction. If he pulled too far away, their legs would halt him, helping him figure out how deep they liked it. His experimentation complete he nipped at Sparrow's sensitive nipple before claiming their mouth in a searing kiss, more passionate than they deserved from him.

Their hands fumbled with his trousers, Reaver more than content to lean back on his knees, watching and waiting amused at their clumsiness. Their frustration grew at the three buttons on his pointlessly complex pants, causing them to continue failing. "Poor little bird, so desparate for me, you've forgotten the simple mechanisms of a button." Something snapped in Sparrow at his words, that terrifying glare piercing deep into his soul, an actual shiver running down his spine, both in arousal and fear.

Before Reaver could fix his mistake, he found himself in Sparrow's position, pinned under their weight, their hand around his neck, squeezing just hard enough he struggled for air, a hoarse moan all that was able to escape him as they rolled their hips against him; they wouldn't kill him. He knew it. They were too good for that. But as tears began to well in his eyes, clouding his vision, the smallest seed of doubt planted itself in his mind. His vision began to blacken around the edges, Sparrow's grinding halted, and the seed grew into worry. Doubt and fear nearly overtook him, his mind just about to yell at him to fight back, before their grip loosened, Reaver gasping and coughing for air.

He slowly lifted his gaze to meet Sparrows, and his hatred rekindled when he met their smug expression. So that's how it felt. Reaver growled at them, and they scoffed in turn, one hand against his chest kept him down while the other finally popped open the last button on his trousers, immediately working to free his cock from its confinements.

Sparrow stroked his impressive length a few times, Reaver attempting to buck into their touch, but Sparrows weight kept his hips pinned. Reaver hummed in pleasure before gasping as they stroked him some more before running their thumb over the head of his cock and his slit. Sparrow looked down at him through their lashes, a calm yet hungry expression on their face; He needed to see that more often, but he also never wanted to see them again.

Confusion was evident on Reavers face when Sparrow yanked his trousers down to his knees, putting two fingers in their mouth; their middle and ring fingers, to be specific. He understood when their hand delved below his cock, not giving him a moment before the full length of both fingers sunk into his ass, causing him to just barely stop him from arching his back, but not enough to stop him from crying out.

Sparrow wasted no time in setting a steady pace, Reavers rock-hard cock resting neglected against his stomach weeping pre-cum. His moans rang out through the mines, and while Reaver was all for putting on a show and being watched, especially intimately, he was certainly glad there weren't any of Lucien's men left to witness this. Reaver squirmed under Sparrow as they thrust in and out of him, before letting out the most embarassing whine when Sparrow curled their fingers, hitting his prostate.

Sparrow halted a moment, staring at him in disbelief and amusement, chuckling. "Whatever you thought you heard, 'Hero', no you didn't." Reaver seethed, setting his gaze on the roof of the mine, refusing to meet Sparrows. He keened when they pressed harder against that spot Reaver knew so well, running a hand through his hair, the other taking fistfuls of dirt in an attempt to ground himself.

His eyes did finally meet theirs when they grabbed his hand at his side and placed it on their thigh, an oddly intimate and kind gesture. It was a trick, of course, cruel person that they were, the act making him drop his guard for the smallest moment they abused, sharply twisting their fingers, knuckles pressing into him.

"Fffffuck! I-I'm going to..." Reaver trailed off, preparing himself for what was surely going to be a hard orgasm with the way they were playing him. It never came, and neither did he, as he let out the most despaired cry when Sparrow cruelly retracted their fingers, keeping him from his end.

"You're a cunt! Gah, I hate you! I'm going to kill you first chance I get!" Reaver snarled at Sparrow, their amused expression only spurring his hatred on. "Now, Reaver," Sparrow tsked at him, "That's hardly polite. I was going to have you fuck me proper, but now I'm heavily considering just leaving you here. Or I could just leave you teetering on this edge all. Night." They taunted him, using their thumb to circle the head of his cock agonizingly slowly.

They let the silence hang in the air for a minute. "Now, are we going to behave?" Reaver scoffed at their words, pointing his gaze at the ground next to Sparrow, before nodding reluctantly. "Good boy." oh, he hated the wave of pleasure those two words sent up his spine.

They sat back on their knees, pulling their own clothes down to their knees, laying on their back and beckoning Reaver to them with a 'come hither' movement of their hand, holding eye contact the entire time. Reaver pounced on them, pulling their underwear and all the other articles of clothes with them down to their ankles before Reaver slipped between their legs, refusing to give them the same courtesy they gave him of preparing them for his sizeable length beforehand; at least not in the way they did.

He knew the pain a little too well, inexperienced or cruel bed partners subjecting him to it one too many times for his liking; nowadays if his partner made him say so much as a singular unconsensual 'ouch!' He'd be rid of them. Whether they listened the first time was the divide between life or death. In that respect, Reaver had mercy on Sparrow, despite his anger, he held his hand out towards Sparrows mouth, prompting them to spit into his hand; he wasn't going to do all of the work for them.

His cock twitched when they licked the palm of his hand, eyes locked onto his before spitting into his hand. Reaver stroked himself a few times, their spit and his pre-cum acting as lubrication before he sunk himself slowly but surely into their tight hole. Reaver thrust slowly a few times before picking up a punishing pace without warning.

Moans and the sound of sex echoed, the both of them completely consumed by their anger and lust. Biting, scratching, pounding, pulling, pushing, choking. Reaver was feverish and selfish, roaming hands and a harsh pace, while Sparrow was rough and punishing, physically correcting Reaver every time he did something they didn't like.

It wasn't long before Sparrow came, pent up from abstinence, their tug of war, Reaver didn't know nor cared, continuing to fuck them through their orgasm, groaning when their heat clenched around him and they called his name, bringing him closer and closer to his own delayed end. Reaver could feel his coil winding, threatening to snap, and thought of one final rude gesture to really prove his resentment of them. He came hard, crying out their name on accident, burying himself deep within their walls rather than pulling out.

Sparrow immediately growled at him and his rude gesture. Reaver made sure to pull out as slowly as he could; he hadn't noticed Sparrow freeing one of their legs from their underwear, realizing only when their foot met him square in the chest, sending him toppling back.

Despite everything that was done, they had resolved nothing. No new love was found, no respect was earned, no fondness was present. Reaver glared at them, using one of their discarded garments to clean himself before standing and gathering his things. They dressed in silence, and as if their relationship couldn't have gotten more confusing, they passed each other articles of clothing as they did so.

Most of the walk out was silent, too. Sparrow was glad for that. It was as the cavern began to brighten that Sparrow broke the silence.

"I still hate you. I almost liked you a few times there. But I still despise you. You're an immoral, rude, pigish man, hiding behind a pretty face and an inflated ego bolstered by no one but you and the leeches you surround yourself with. However," Sparrow stood in front of Reaver, halting him. "We still need your help, and I'm willing to help keep you alive, at least until we don't need you anymore." Reaver stared unamused at them, before sighing deeply.

"Fine. I'll help. I'll return the favor, make sure you don't die, et cetera. But only because I want to kill you myself once this is all over."

"Oh, what a coincidence, I was thinking the same thing."

"So we do have something in common besides being a fantastic fuck."

"You think I'm fantastic?"

"Shut up, next time I'm bending you over so I don't have to look at you."

"Oh no, next time I'm fucking you."

"Over my dead body."

"God, I hope so."

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