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imaginedisish · 3 months ago

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Inside Out (Logan Howlett x f!reader)

A/N: Oh my god I'm back again. This is another soft!Logan fic. I couldn't hold myself back from writing this one. The next fic I have planned is going to be devious and diabolical, I promise, but for now, here's another angsty, soft and smutty Logan one shot. Couldn't stop listening to "Inside Out" by Duster while writing this one. I think it fits. Hope you guys enjoy :)

Summary: After a tense battle, you and Logan have it out (in more ways than one).

Warnings: SMUT! 18+ Minors DNI! Oral (f!receiving), Fingering, PIV (unprotected...wrap it up, this is fiction!), Allusions to PTSD/mental health, Frenemies to Lovers, Fem!reader, AFAB!reader, Mutant!reader, Telepathic!reader (with heightened senses/visions), cannon typical violence/allusions to death, non-sexual intimacy becomes sexual intimacy (not sure if that warrants a warning), angry!Logan, reader has hair (length/texture/color not described!) major angst, probably grammatical errors, I think that's everything.

Word Count: 4477 wow

You and Logan are surrounded. You can hear the other members of the team nearby in the forest, screaming, grunting, fighting. Guns going off, ricocheting against trees. And now, there is a circle of government-sanctioned mutant hunters pointing their machine guns and rifles directly at the two of you.

Your heart beats out of your chest. How the fuck are you going to get out of this? It seems impossible. Sure, you and Logan can regenerate, but not nearly fast enough. You’re outnumbered 2 to at least 40, and more to come. Maybe this is the end. Maybe there’s no going home this time.

But then, an idea crosses your mind. Briefly. A flash. A shot in the dark. But it’s there. And if you’re strong enough, it might just work.

You wince as another presence weaves itself through the fabric of your thoughts. No, Charles shouts in your mind. It’s too dangerous.

You shake him off, forcing up your mental shields. Logan recognizes that look on your face. He can tell you’re up to something. He has always been able to read you like a book.

“Don’t you dare put yourself in danger,” he mutters under his breath so only you can hear him. “We are all walking out of here, and you’re no exception.”

You close your eyes. “When I tell you to get down, you get down.”

“Absolutely not!” His nostrils flare. The government agents cock their guns.

“Lo, get down.”

“Fuck no!”

You can feel it coming—feel their fingers bracing their triggers. Pulling. Pulling. Pulling. Everything is silent for a moment. You can hear everything. Nothing. There’s a squirrel running up a tree just a few feet away. A cold breeze sweeps through your legs. Peace.

It never lasts long, does it?

“NOW!”

BANG! The shots ring out, echoing against the branches, the sound shaking the trees.

With half your focus, you shove Logan to the ground, and with the other, you stop each and every bullet pointed in your direction. You stop the agents too, freezing them in their places. Dense, heavy sweat builds upon your brow. You’re trembling, your hands stretched out towards Logan and the agents, but you’re still in control. You can hold on a bit longer.

You swallow harshly, forcing the bullets to rain down to the ground. With the twist of your hand, you remove the magazines from each of the guns and unload them, the ammunition falling to the ground, too. With the agents still under your control, you bend their wrists just enough so that they sprain; just enough so that they can’t fight back.

And then comes that sudden, familiar shift in your body and in your mind. You’re weakening, losing control, struggling to breathe. You growl in agony, your head ready burst from the pressure of hanging on too long—but you have to finish this. You have to save your friends.

You have to save Logan.

With one final push of your hand, you send the government agents flying deep into the forest, screaming in pain at the sheer force it takes. You fall to your knees, down on the ground next to Logan. You try to catch your breath, your chest heaving rapidly. You cough, choking on your own breath and saliva as the taste of metal burns at the back of your throat. You swallow it all down. One more second of that, or a few more agents to fend off, and you might not have made it. You might have died trying.

You regain some of your energy after a few moments on the ground. It’s not until you try to stand that you notice Logan’s hand on your back. He tries to help you up, but you shake him off.

“I’m fine,” you protest, dusting off your uniform.

“Fine?” Fuck. He’s angry. “You call that fine? You almost died!”

You turn to face him. He wants anger? Oh, you can show him what anger fucking looks like. “We would be dead if I didn’t do that! I did what I had to do!”

He prowls toward you. His claws are still out. “Are you fucking crazy?” He’s backing you into a tree now. “Tell me, what the fuck was that? What did you think you were doing?” He retracts his claws as he pins his hands into the tree, right next to your head. The bark scratches into the rips in your uniform.

You condescendingly poke his chest with your pointer figure. If he’s going to treat you like a child, you’re going to do the same to him. “Saving your ass, that’s what!” You shout back.

“This is not the time or place for you two to have it out.” Scott’s grating voice fills your ears. He is the last person’s opinion you’d like to hear right now.

You and Logan snap your heads to face him. “Shut the fuck up, Scott!” You spit in unison. He throws his hands up and backs away.

“You could’ve gotten yourself killed!” Logan practically growls.

You shake your head, your nostrils flaring. “I was protecting you!” You shout. “And I did! It worked!”

The rest of the team starts to board the jet, but Logan shows no sign of budging. Storm crosses her arms as she stands in front of the ramp. “Logan, let’s go.”

He doesn’t move an inch, still caging you in. “I’ve got the bike. I’ll take her with me.”

“My bike!” Scott calls from just inside the ship. Logan shoots him a death stare. Even you roll your eyes at the comment.

“Logan,” Charles chides from next to Storm, his voice a warning.

You tilt your head past Logan to see Charles. “It’s fine. I’ll go with him. We’ll meet you guys at the mansion.”

Charles nods. You swear you can see a faint smirk spread across his face, but he’s turning around and wheeling himself up the ramp before you can truly make out his expression.

The ramp shuts behind him, and the jet powers up to leave. “So how are we settling this, hm?” You ask, cockily. Logan works his jaw, staring down at you with a fury you’re not quite sure you’ve seen before. “What would you like to do, bub?” You smirk. “What, you gonna tell me we’re supposed to be a team or something? Thought that wasn’t your style.” You know you’re being harsh, using his own words against him, ripping into him, but you don’t care. The jet takes off, but neither you nor Logan pay it any mind.

His tongue swipes his bottom lip, and you can’t help but watch. You try to ignore how much you like the sight of it. Of him.

“Never,” he seethes, not wavering an inch. “Never do anything like that again.”

“Why?” Is all you ask, knowing full well you’re poking the bear. “It’s nothing you wouldn’t have done.”

He ignores you and presses on. “I swear to God, if anything ever happens to you, I will punch a fucking hole in the goddamn universe so big that…” He trails off, his eyes searching your face. There’s a shift in his expression. “So fucking big that…” But he still doesn’t finish the sentence. His eyes are glossed over, like he’s holding back tears.

You’re suddenly embarrassed. You can’t keep his stare, his eyes locked on you. You look down at the leaf-covered ground, and you realize just how dirty you are. Blood on your hands, under your nails, caked into your skin. You’re finally understanding the gravity of the moment—of what could have been if your plan didn’t work.

“It was the only way,” you pause, feeling tears sting behind your sinuses, burning as they reach your eyes. “Only way I saw it ending without you d-dying.” You have to choke the words out. “C-couldn’t lose you,” you mutter, hoping he can’t hear you.

“And what?” He says, not backing down. “You think you’re the only one with something to lose?”

“N-no,” you stutter softly. “That’s not what I meant at all. I just—”

“I’d rather die than live in a world without you.” He says finally. He pushes himself off the tree and away from you. He turns, walking towards wherever he parked the bike.

You look at his back in disbelief. “W-what?” “You fucking heard me,” he shouts, not bothering to stop and wait for you or to elaborate further. You push your back off the tree and follow him through the forest.

“Slow down!” You call out, still not quite fully recovered from using your powers. But he keeps pressing forward. “Logan!” You call again. “Please, I—” You stumble a bit, almost falling over, but you catch yourself just in time. You reach out to a tree for support, gripping a low branch tightly in your hand. You suck in deep, shaky breaths as you let your eyes fall closed.

Logan shouts your name in the near distance, his voice filled with panic. His footsteps crunch the leaves of the forest floor. You can tell he’s sprinting with every twig that cracks beneath his boots. “Fuck, are you okay?” He’s next to you now, his arms enveloping you, reaching around your waist to offer you support.

You can feel your tears bubbling to the surface, threatening to burst. “I’m sorry,” you mumble, opening your eyes to look up at him. “I just didn’t see any other way.”

“I know.” His voice is gentler now, calmer. He helps you straighten up, taking a tentative step and watching as you take one too. He walks slowly, making sure not to rush you, keeping an eye on your every move. “I’m sorry too,” he says. “What you do…you just scare me sometimes.”

You hope he doesn’t see the tear that slips out the corner of your eye and down your cheek. “I scare myself. I still can’t control my powers. I know I’m a monster.” You can see the bike in the distance, so you take another step, but Logan stops. “I just feel so inside out sometimes, like I can’t be comfortable in my own head never mind my own skin.”

“I didn’t mean it like that.” His voice is steady now, firm. His grip around your waist tightens, keeping you in place. “You’re not a monster. You’re beautiful—” He cuts himself off. “What you can do, is beautiful.”

“Then what is it that scares you?” You need to know.

“You’re just so selfless. What you did back there…” He pauses. “You knew you could die. I saw it in the way you were standing. The way you looked at me. It was reckless.”

He searches your face, your eyes, your lips for an answer. “You’re no better,” you huff out. Logan smirks, guiding you towards the bike yet again. “It’s just what you do when you care about someone.”

“I know.” His lips are pressed against the shell of your ear. “I know,” he repeats.

He helps you onto the back of the bike, holding your hips as you straddle the seat. His hands linger longer than they should. He squeezes softly before letting go and walking to the front. He straddles the bike himself, grabbing the key from his jacket pocket and turning it into the ignition. The bike springs to life.

“Hang on, alright?” He calls out over the roar of the engine. You nod against his back, slipping your arms under his jacket and around his waist. He kicks the stand up, and the bike rumbles underneath you as he presses on the gas. You tighten your hold on him as the bike jolts forward.

You rest your head on his back, letting yourself fold over him completely. He’s warm and solid underneath you. You shut your eyes, too tired to watch the tires speed across the black pavement. Aside from the engine, the tires against the street below, and the wind, there’s no sound. No one around. It’s just you and Logan. Alone.

You feel him breathe in deeply. “Don’t know what I’d do if you didn’t make it.” You can feel the words reverberate in his back. “I mean it.”

“But I did,” you say, lifting your head so that you can speak against his ear. “I’m right here.” He hums in affirmation, and you rest your head on his back again. You hesitantly reach your hands under his shirt this time, arms wrapping around him as tight as possible. You know this is pushing the boundaries of your “friendship,” but he doesn’t stop you—doesn’t push you away. He just hums again. “I’m not going anywhere,” you murmur, and shut your eyes.

“Good.”

The ride back to the mansion isn’t terribly long, and you wish it could’ve been longer. Logan drives the bike into the garage, taking the keys out of the ignition and kicking out the stand. You lift your head, and before you can even think of getting up on your own, Logan is wrapping his arms around your body and lifting you off the seat.

You let him hold you there for a moment. You try to tell yourself that this is just a hug between friends, that this whole situation is what happens when you care about someone too much. But it’s hard to lie to yourself when you feel so impossibly strongly about someone.

He drops his arms from your body and silently takes your hand in his. He guides you to the door that leads to the mansion, keeping you close.��

It’s dark once you step inside. Everyone must have gone to bed. It likely took you and Logan five times as long as the jet to get back to the mansion. Quiet fills the halls. There’s not a stir, not a creak, not a step. You can sense that everyone is asleep, or at least in their rooms.

“Lo?” You whisper. He squeezes your hand. A surge of confidence racks through you. “Can you stay with me?” You’re not quite sure what you mean by that—what you expect him to do if he stays. All you’re certain of is that you don’t want him to leave.

He nods, leading you up the stairs. “Won’t go anywhere, sweetheart.” He guides you down the hall towards his room. “Let’s get cleaned up, okay?”

He opens the door and guides you in, shutting it carefully behind him. He lets go of your hand, the sudden emptiness making your palm feel cold. How do people become so important, so quickly? How can someone letting go of your hand hurt so bad when they’re still just a few feet away? You’re not sure, but you know this feeling is dangerous.

He’s rummaging through his drawers for a few seconds before he pulls out a t-shirt and places it on the dresser in front of him. He grabs another set of clothes, closes the drawer, and carries them over to you. He extends the shirt out to you, a soft smile playing on his lips. That’s what he is right now: soft. You’re not used to this side of him.

You take the shirt from him, smiling back. “You should shower. You can use mine.” His head tilts towards the bathroom on the other side of his room. You nod and pad over, opening the door, turning on the lights, and closing the door behind you.

You keep moving, undressing and turning the water on. It doesn’t take long for the water to heat up, the steam fogging every inch and surface of the room. You step inside the shower, letting the water run down your body. Your eyes fall closed while your mind searches for some kind of peace. You try to recall what Charles often told you: Calm your mind.��But it isn’t working this time. Your mind is racing.

You envision Logan’s angry, fearful face; his concern and panic. Charles’s call that it would be too dangerous echoes and reverberates. You see yourself dead on the ground, Logan holding your lifeless body in his arms. Even worse, you find yourself imagining that it didn’t work at all—that you couldn’t save the team, never mind yourself. This time it’s Logan’s body you see, on the ground, dead. Just like that, your whole world can slip out of your hands and turn to nothing.

Choked sobs escape your throat as you let yourself fall to your knees. There’s a piercing, splitting pain somewhere deep inside your head. These visions, these feelings, this pain—it’s physical and mental. And it’s too much. It’s not the first time you’ve had visions like these after a fight or a mission, but it is the worst episode yet.

There’s a knock on the door, followed by Logan calling your name. You try to answer, but your voice is caught in your throat. Logan knocks harder, but you still can’t speak. “I’m coming in!” The door swings open and his eyes widen as he sees your crumpled form on the shower floor, face stained red with tears.

He shoves the shower door open, practically cracking the glass in the process. You’re suddenly hyper-aware of how naked you are, but it’s clear Logan isn’t. His gaze is trained on your face. “I-it happens, sometimes,” you stutter, reassuring him that this is normal. “A-after missions.”

Logan’s shoulders relax, his eyes softening with understanding. “I know what you mean.” His hands come up to your arms, rubbing gently. “Let me help you.” He gestures with his head toward the shower. You nod and watch as Logan takes his shirt off. He stands to take off his jeans, and you look away, taking the moment to force yourself to stand. You hear him step into the shower and slide the door shut behind him.

“I’m sorry,” you mumble, swallowing harshly.

Logan stands behind you, less than a foot away. The shower is just big enough for the two of you. “Nothing to be sorry for. Just let me take care of you.”

“Okay,” you whisper. You hear him shuffle a bit, squeeze a bottle, and shuffle a bit more.

“Can I touch you?” He asks.

“Y-yeah,” you answer. You wonder if he can hear how fast your heart is beating. But before you can think about it too much, his hands come up to your wet hair. He massages shampoo into your scalp, his fingertips scrubbing ever so gently. You feel your shoulders settle—your body relax. No one has ever done anything like this for you before.

You watch as the dirt trickles down your body to the drain. After a few moments of massaging, Logan nudges you forward a bit, and you take the hint to step under the water fully. You close your eyes as he scrubs the shampoo from your hair.

When he’s done, he removes his hands from your hair and slides them down to your neck, and then to your shoulders. You step away from the water, almost bumping into his chest in the process.

“’M’sorry,” you mumble.

“No more apologizing, darlin’.” His hands come off your shoulders. You feel lost without the contact. You listen as the bottle pops open again, and Logan quickly scrubs the shampoo into his own hair. You instinctively step forward to let him rinse, and he does.

You take a deep breath, trying to concentrate and calm down now that his hands aren’t on you. But it doesn’t last long. He opens another bottle, pouring more liquid into his hands.

He rests his hands on your shoulders again. You can feel the body wash run down your arms. “Can I…” Logan trails off, his hands firm, unmoving until you give the word.

“Mhm,” you hum. His hands start to work the soap into your arms, up to your neck, your collarbone, stopping just above your chest. “Logan,” you murmur, letting yourself lean into him. You feel his heart beating against your back. His breath fans over your shoulder.

You can tell he’s losing his composure, the way he slouches around you, inviting you in. This isn’t something friends do. You two aren’t friends. This is something more.

And he knows.

“There’s no coming back from this,” he whispers, his lips at your temple. “If we do this.”

You push back further into him. “Who says I’d want to go back?”

Your back is suddenly met with the cold shower wall, your chest flush with Logan’s. His lips press into yours, swallowing your moans as his hands come up to your breasts, pinching your nipples lightly. He moves down your body quickly, leaving a trail of kisses down your jawline, your neck, the center of your chest, your stomach, stopping just above your clit.

“Relax,” he soothes, his thumbs brushing your hips. He spreads your legs with the palms of his hands before pressing a kiss to your clit. You shudder at the feeling, whispering his name and throwing your head back.

He licks a long stripe up your cunt, landing on your clit, taking it into his mouth and sucking roughly. He laps at you hungrily, like a man starved. One of his hands resting on your hip comes down in between your thighs, experimentally sliding through your folds, teasing your entrance.

It feels so good, but you want him—need him—closer. He inserts two fingers, gently pumping in and out, flicking your clit with his tongue at the same time.

“Logan,” you whine. You look down at him, his head buried in your cunt. He looks up at you, his eyes wide and filled with lust. You’re already close. But it’s not enough “Need you, now. Want you here.”

“I’m here,” he mumbles against your core. You’re shaking, melting underneath him.

“N-need you,” you beg again. “Please.”

He sucks on your clit one last time before removing his fingers from your cunt and standing up to meet you.

His hands rest on either side of your head. Your breath hitches in your throat at the sight of him. “Are you sure you want this?” His voice wavers just a bit, a slight tremble shaking the usual steadiness of his words. He looks down to your lips and back up to your eyes—his jaw working, as if he’s searching for a sign that you’ve changed your mind—that you don’t want him anymore.

But you’ll always want him. You always have.

“Y-yes,” You stutter. He wraps one hand around the back of your neck and uses the other to hoist one of your legs around his waist. His hard cock rubs against your stomach as he moves to line up with your entrance.

“Wanted you this whole time, pretty girl.” He thrusts into you, sinking down to the hilt. He stays there for a moment, pulling you into him, his free hand grabbing your ass and picking you up so that both legs wrap around his waist.

He uses the wall as leverage, fucking you into the tiles at your back. Once he’s sure you’re stable against him, his hand leaves your ass and comes in between your bodies, searching for your clit. He begins to stroke, drawing perfect circles there, while his cock hits that sweet spot inside you.

It’s perfect, everything about this moment is perfect. It all feels so good. You moan his name, his hips rutting into you over and over again.

“Doing so good for me,” he husks, biting the skin just under your jaw, licking the spot where your pulse point is, peppering kisses there. You wonder if he does it because it’s a reminder that you’re still here, still alive, still breathing. “Taking me so well, sweetheart.”

His words work to coax you off the edge, each swipe of his fingers and thrust of his cock bringing you closer to your orgasm. “L-Logan,” you stutter, his name—him—the only thing in your normally noisy mind. This is what peace is. This is the calm you’ve been searching for your whole life: it’s him.

You can feel his pace growing faster, his cock pushing deeper, stretching you out as he plunges into you. “You feel so fucking good,” he groans, kissing your pulse point again. “So fucking beautiful.”

Your walls flutter around him, your clit becoming overstimulated and sensitive as he flicks roughly. You’re so close. “Lo—” but you can’t find the words.

“That’s it, pretty girl,” he mumbles, his forehead pressing to yours. “Want you to look at me when you come. Can you do that for me?”

You moan a yes as he buries his cock deep inside you, before pulling out and pumping back in again.

You can feel your eyes growing heavy, but you keep them open, watching Logan as he pulls your orgasm from you. “That’s it. I’ve got you.” His words, the bass of his voice, him, it all sends you over the edge. He works you through it, still circling your clit, his pace growing sloppier as he chases his own orgasm.

You wrap your legs tighter around his waist. He knows what you want. “Inside,” you whisper.

“Oh f-fuck,” he moans, coming inside you, filling you up.

His thrusts begin to slow, his hand leaving that space between your bodies. You feel like air, weightless, drunk off the way he makes you feel. He carefully slips out of you, but he doesn’t put you back down on the ground. He simply readjusts, picking you up in his arms and carrying you out of the shower.

He sets you down on the bathmat and crosses the tiled floor to the towel rack, where two towels conveniently hang. He wraps one towel around his waist as he strides over to you. He starts to dry you off, rubbing you gently, kissing each spot he dries as he goes. He’s worshipping you, taking care of you. No one has ever taken care of you like this.

Once he’s finished, he wraps you up in the towel, and picks you up again. He carries you back into his room, resting you gently on the already turned-down bed. He crawls in after you, discarding his towel in the process. You toss your towel to the side, too. You nestle in under the covers, and Logan does the same.

He wraps his arms around you, pulling you to his chest. You can feel that peace again, that calm from before, when he was buried inside of you. It was him. It was always him. Your mind is quiet, no longer all loud and inside out.

“I’ve got you,” Logan whispers, his legs tangling with yours.

You bury your face into his chest. “Don’t let go.” But you know you don’t need to ask.

His mind is already made up.

“Never will.”

#Logan Howlett x reader #James Logan Howlett x Reader #Wolverine x reader #Logan Howlett x you #Logan Howlett smut #Logan Howlett x reader smut #Wolverine smut #Wolverine x reader smut #James Logan Howlett smut #James Logan Howlett x reader smut #Wolverine x you #James Logan Howlett x you #James Logan Howlett x you smut #Logan Howlett x you smut #Wolverine x you smut #logan howlett imagine

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ceilidho · 1 year ago

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prompt: reader is hired as a live in house cleaner because ghost is always away and he only comes back on leave and he insists she stay in the guest room. Over time he increasingly acts like she’s his live in girlfriend or something. Very confusing for reader lmao.

The job comes at the exact right time.

The way you stumble onto your new job is a bit dicey, if you’re being honest. You’ve been meaning to get out of the waitressing life for a while—the tips are shit and the number of times that you’ve had your backside pinched has slowly but steadily climbed into the double digits. You just haven’t had direction; somewhere to go.

Your savior comes in the form of a six foot plus soldier. Oh, he doesn’t tell you that, but his body language speaks for itself.

At first, even the sight of him makes your belly clench and palms sweat like when you watch rock climbing documentaries or parkour videos online (all moist and clammy and you have to wipe them on your jeans before shaking his hand). He’s a one-time customer at your little roadside diner that gradually becomes a repeat offender.

He comes at odd times, sometimes disappearing for a month or two before he’s back to sitting in the booth at the back of the diner with his back against the wall. You smile shakily when you pour him coffee after coffee. He never eats. Always sits in the same booth, dressed in the same black hoodie that does nothing to hide the sheer size of him and a black surgical mask that he never removes. He has a sixth sense for when you’re watching him from behind the counter, waiting for him to take a sip.

You never do catch a glimpse of his face. Not completely anyway. You know him only by the faint smell of gunpowder and metal that clings to him like a second skin, and the feeling of his calloused hand against yours.

Like ice slowly chipping off a glacier that one day cracks, a huge chunk splintering off and crashing into the sea, you know nothing about him until you’re suddenly in his house. Simon, he tells you, and the sound of his name awakens something in you. He needs a housekeeper and you need a reason to leave.

You quit the diner; barely even put in a week’s notice.

The day you drive up the long beaten road up to his property, a cabin deep in the English countryside, clear blue skies follow you. Clouds crisp, delicate even. Simon takes you through the house, showing you to the guest room where you’ll be staying while he’s away. He never directly confirms your suspicions, but the faint tightness around his eyes when he mentions his job tells you all you need to know. No wonder he needs someone to keep the house in order. Never around to do it himself.

Then he’s gone, swift as a ghost. You wake up in the guest room to a hastily scrawled note on your bedside table and a faint feeling of loss.

You scrub tiles and dust the top bit of the fan that everyone always misses; you mow the lawn, clean the gutters, and sit under the shade of a poplar tree with a glass of lemonade in the early evenings. If you look up into the tree, you’ll see spiders and squirrel nests. It’s almost therapeutic.

Weeks pass at a time. Simon reemerges like clear skies between periods of rain. Sometimes even before you wake up, you can feel the change like lighting sizzling in the air, crackling hot under your fingertips and then stumbling into the kitchen to find him leaning against the counter, coffee already brewing. You blush into an apology that he waves off.

Good soldier. Better boss.

You fall into a routine, something of a cadence that is only interrupted by Simon’s hands on your hips when he moves you out of the way to grab a mug from the top shelf. His finger brushing over the curve of your cheekbone to wipe away flour smudged on your cheek. Then he’s gone again, passing through like a ghost.

Perhaps he’s a more tactile man than you originally assumed. Something about the way he held himself in those first few weeks in the diner suggested otherwise, the way he seemed to radiate a latent hostility. Do not get close. You read this in the general slope of his eyebrows and the scars across his muscled forearms up until he reaches out to touch you, growing more and more comfortable with you around.

“You alright, love?” said into your ear on a warm night when Simon materializes onto the couch beside you, practically out of thin air. Your heart almost bursts in your chest.

When you turn, he’s as beautiful as ever, honey burnt eyes staring out from behind a balaclava this time. Still dresses in his standard issue tactical pants, the faint smear of grime and gore around the ankles. There’s a lump in your throat when you smile.

He smells richer now. Deeper, like the forest floor. Like crawling through mud and spider webs and a thick, cloying miasma of desperation.

“Sorry—I didn’t know you’d be back,” you apologize, going to rise up to your feet. It feels wrong to commandeer his house when he’s on leave, even though you live here too.

A heavy hand on your shoulder pulls you down, settling you to his side. “Off your feet now—there you go, atta girl. No sense getting up; show’s not even done.”

He angles you back to face the TV and tugs you into his lap almost effortlessly. You do not look back, even when you feel him slip the balaclava off, hot breath fanning over your neck. Not even when fingers play over the thin line of skin where your shirt rides up. You blink like your eyes are gummy and try not to shudder when his thumb dips underneath your shirt.

#cod mw2 #ghost cod #cod x reader #cod simon riley #simon ghost riley #simon riley #ghost/reader #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x reader #simon riley x you #ceil writing #house cleaner au

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fandoms-x-reader · 5 months ago

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Wearing Their Clothes

Headcannons

Summary: The brothers' reactions to seeing you wear an article of their clothing.

Of all the things that surprised you in the Devildom, one of the biggest shocks was the fact that it had weather just like the Human Realm. Of course, there were many representations of what “Hell” looked like. You just never saw one that showed it raining or snowing there. So, when large snowflakes started falling, to say you were both shocked and confused would be an understatement.

You were still at RAD when it started snowing. There had been a mandatory student council meeting; and, afterwards, Lucifer had asked you to stay behind and help him with some paperwork.

Diavolo had asked Lucifer to have the exchange students fill out a survey on how their time in the Devildom had been so far; and, since you were already with him, he thought yours would be the easiest to fill out.

He was pleasantly surprised when you had nothing but praise to give Lucifer. He wore a proud smile as you talked about how much you’ve been enjoying your time in the Devildom. He loved hearing you talk about it - each commendation making him feel the all-too-familiar emotion that had been bestowed upon his demon form.

He was having such a great time, in fact, that he didn’t realize how late it had gotten until he looked out the window and noticed how dark it was outside.

“We must have lost track of time,” Lucifer told you before offering to walk with you back to the House of Lamentation. Not that you had a choice in the matter. After all, it was far too dangerous for you to walk back by yourself.

The second you stepped outside of RAD, you immediately regretted it. The cold air bit at your skin as the snow continued to fall. You cursed yourself for not bringing a jacket; but, how were you supposed to know that it was going to snow in the Devildom today.

You walked silently alongside Lucifer, doing your best to keep your teeth from chattering. Lucifer studied you as the two of you walked. You were usually more chatty. Was something wrong?

He looked at your appearance. Your complexion was flushed, your body slightly shivering. Lucifer raised an eyebrow as suddenly he understood what was happening - you were cold.

Lucifer was immediately taking off his large fur cape and offering it to you. The gesture warmed your heart, but you declined. He needed it or else he would be cold - you argued. Lucifer would make an argument about how much more fragile humans were than demons and then tell you, “Besides, I can’t have you die from the cold. It would be a bad look for Lord Diavolo.”

You chuckled at his words before agreeing, realizing Lucifer wasn’t going to back down. He helped place his cape over your shoulders, securing it in place. You were immediately thankful for the warmth the cape provided - the color almost instantly returning to your cheeks.

Lucifer couldn’t help but smile as he looked at you in his cape - the sheer size of it nearly enveloping your entire body. The snow fell on top of you, your hair and eyelashes being coated in white. You looked beautiful.

Lucifer admired you the whole way home, hoping that it would snow more often in the Devildom so that he could see you in his cape more often.

Mammon liked to spend a lot of time in your room. After all, he was your “first” so why shouldn’t he be allowed in there whenever he liked. He would spend countless hours in there with you. It didn’t matter what the two of you were doing, as long as you were hanging out. Some nights, by the time you were done, it would be so late that he would just stay the night in there.

So, it was no surprise when he accidentally left one of his shirts in your room. It was just a plain, black t-shirt. Nothing truly identifiable about it. Because of that, you had accidentally mistaken it for one of your shirts.

Mammon however knew the difference. He had been looking for that shirt, not knowing where he had misplaced it.

He came to check for it in your room, barging in without knocking. “Oi, Y/N,” he began but stopped realizing the room was empty. He heard the faint sound of water running coming from the bathroom and realized you were taking a shower. He sat down on your bed, deciding to wait for you.

He scrolled on his D.D.D. for a while until the water turned off. Then a few minutes later, you came out of the bathroom - wearing his shirt.

Mammon felt his heart stop as his eyes were glued to you, his D.D.D. long forgotten about. You were surprised to see Mammon sitting in your room and you were about to say something when you noticed the deep red blush that coated his cheeks as he sat there looking incredibly flustered. “Mammon, are you okay?”

He wouldn't answer your question. Instead, he asked, “I-Is that my shirt?!” Your eyebrows furrowed as you looked down at the black shirt you were wearing, now recognizing it as his. “Oh, I’m sorry,” you told him.

Mammon was a mess. The shirt clung to your body in the best way possible, leading Mammon’s mind to wander to different images of you in that shirt…and out of it. Noticing his expression you said, “I can change.”

“N-No!” Mammon said, jumping off the bed now. That was the last thing he wanted. Realizing his slip-up, Mammon tried to quickly cover his tracks by saying, “Just be grateful that the great Mammon is letting ya wear his clothes!”

When he does get his shirt back, he immediately notices that it smells like you, something that makes him smile. He will never wear it again or wash it.

Levi was never supposed to find out.

You were doing a cosplay outfit for one of your favorite animes. You had made several videos online and had gotten a decent amount of likes. You loved it and the amount of online support you got encouraged you to do more and more outfits.

Well, it just so happened that the character you were trying to portray had a specific blue and orange jacket. It was pertinent to the character; but, you had nothing similar. So, you began brainstorming ideas on what you could do to try and replicate the clothing item.

Then, it suddenly dawned on you. You had seen Levi wearing a jacket with the same colors. It wasn’t an exact match but it would be close enough.

You took in a deep breath as you made your way to the coat closet in the House of Lamentation, praying it was there.

To your luck, when you opened the door, amongst the miscellaneous other coats, it was hanging up in the closet. You let out a small breath of relief. You reached your hand out to take the jacket but hesitated. Levi would probably freak if he saw you wearing his jacket. But, you really needed it.

You debated the pros and cons of taking the jacket.. One on hand, if you went and asked Levi if you could borrow the jacket, he would most likely mumble something about normies before declining out of embarrassment. Then you would be out of luck. However, if you just borrowed the jacket for a few minutes - just to make the video. Then, you could put it back and he’d never know.

Deciding that was the best course of action, you quickly took the jacket and headed back up to your room. You put the jacket on as the finishing touch and looked in the mirror. Perfect.

You began recording the video, making sure to have the perfect lighting and angle. When you were done, you rewatched it, satisfied with the results. Alright, time to put Levi’s jacket back.

“Hey, Y/N, what-,” Levi suddenly came rushing into the room. Both of you froze in shock. Was that…his? “Levi!” you said, nervously looking at him. You had been caught.

“I can explain,” you told him as his eyes widened and a blush coated his cheeks. Not only were you wearing his clothes like some normie couple, but you looked good in it.

“I was making a cosplay video and I needed to borrow it,” you admitted. “C-Cosplay?” Levi asked, stuttering out his words as he tried to comprehend the situation.

He let out a small scream as he recognized the character you were dressed up as. It was from one of the animes he recommended to you. His eyes then trailed to the video that was still playing on your D.D.D.

You slowly took off his jacket and handed it back to him, blushing slightly. “Sorry, for taking it without asking.”

Levi took the jacket, not sure what to say. So he said the first thing that came to his mind. “Y-You’re missing the sunglasses.”

What? Levi looked back at the video again and you understood. Of course! You were missing the sunglasses for the cosplay. You knew you were missing something!

“I-I have a pair that might match,” Levi said, offering you back his jacket. If you were going to make a cosplay video, he was going to be part of it.

“That would be great!” you replied. Levi quickly left to retrieve the sunglasses as you put his jacket back on. He returned within moments, handing you the sunglasses. You put them on the way the character would and Levi asked if he could help you record the video to which you were unbelievably grateful for.

Levi was smiling the whole time he helped. He couldn’t believe how talented you were in your impression of the character. More importantly, he couldn’t believe you were wearing his clothes!

You were sitting in Satan’s room reading a book while you waited for him to return. The two of you had been spending the afternoon together. You were reading one of your favorites, and he had been doing the same until about a few minutes ago. He had just finished his book and told you he was going to go to the library to get another book. He promised he would return shortly but it had already been several minutes.

You were huddled up underneath a blanket, but you were still cold. It felt like Satan’s room had no heat whatsoever. You let out a small sigh as you tore your eyes from the page, glancing around the room for anything that could help you warm back up.

You couldn’t see any blankets, but you noticed one of Satan’s sweaters sitting not too far from you. You let out a small sigh as you turned the idea over and over in your head. He wouldn’t be mad if you borrowed it, right? Not if you told him you were cold.

You wanted to ask Satan’s permission, so you waited a few more minutes, but when you realized he wasn’t going to be coming back for a while - you decided to risk it.

You quickly jumped out of the blanket and moved over to the sweater. You picked it up carefully, admiring the material before slipping it over your head. You noticed that it smelt like Satan, the scent making you feel like you were enveloped in his arms.

You clutched the sweater a little closer to you before moving back to your spot and huddling underneath the blanket. You opened your book back up to the spot you were at and got lost in the fictional world once again.

You were so distracted by the words on the page that you didn’t notice when Satan entered the room. He was about to announce his presence when he noticed the familiar article of clothing that you were wearing.

His cheeks turned pink as he looked at you wearing his sweater. You looked so adorable curled up under the blanket, reading a book, while wearing his clothes. It warmed his heart. Satan moved over to you, doing his best to hide his smile.

He sat down next to you and you had completely forgotten that you were wearing his sweater. As if it was second nature to do so. “Did you find a book?” you asked him.

Satan nodded his head before telling you, “I’m really excited to see how this turns out.” You smiled in response, thinking he was talking about the book. He wasn’t so sure.

From now on, if you were in his presence and looked the slightest bit cold, he would immediately offer you his sweater, wanting to see you in his clothes more often.

Asmo was the resident fashion designer in the House of Lamentation. Whenever someone needed advice on an outfit, they immediately turned to him.; and, it was no secret why. His fashion advice was always on point. He could turn the dullest of outfits into a beautiful masterpiece.

Tonight, Asmo had invited you to dinner at a new restaurant that had open. They asked him to attend with a plus one to bring more business. After all, he had tons of fans who would go to the restaurant just to see him.

Asmo had asked you to be his plus one, and you couldn’t have been more excited. Until he told you how many people would be looking at the two of you and taking pictures. Then, nerves set in as you began panicking about what to wear.

“Don’t worry! I’ll help you!” Asmo comforted, taking you by your hand to your room. He would have you put on a mini-fashion show for him, trying on multiple different outfits to try and find the right one. But, nothing you had quite fit the vibe of the restaurant.

Asmo thought for a moment, until he came up with an idea. He had the perfect outfit for you! Asmo quickly brought you to his room, pulling out the outfit and handing it to you. He ushered you into his bathroom, telling you to try it on.

When you did, you were surprised at how well it fit - and how good it looked. You stepped out of the bathroom and at first, Asmo didn’t say anything. He just stared at you, a large smile spreading across his face.

“How do I look?” you asked after the silence began to grow awkward. Asmo tried to keep his composure as the thought of you wearing his clothes in public threatened to spark his sin. “That’s the one!” Asmo told you excitedly before helping you do your make-up. By the end of it all, the two of you looked like you had walked straight off the pages of a magazine.

You made your way to the restaurant and when you got there, you were met with countless cameras. It seemed like everyone wanted to capture the restaurant’s grand opening.

Asmo grabbed your hand as the cameras started flashing, documenting yours and Asmo’s presence. He led you into the restaurant, his smile only growing larger as he thought about you wearing his outfit. The photos would forever document that you were wearing his clothes.

It was a complete accident.

You had left the House of Lamentation while it was warm out, so you didn’t think to bring an umbrella. Who would?

Well, apparently, it was the biggest mistake you could have made because on your way home, you had found yourself in the middle of a rainstorm. You had no protection from it, the droplets soaking you from head to toe.

You began running to the House of Lamentation, letting out a sigh of relief as you made it to the front door. You quickly entered, thankful to be out of the storm. Then you heard someone behind you. “I see you forgot your umbrella.” You jumped as you turned around and saw Lucifer standing there.

A small blush coated your cheeks as you were embarrassed of the state you were currently in. Lucifer asked you to go to the laundry room so that you didn’t track water everywhere and you agreed, making a beeline towards the room.

When you got there, you quickly took off your wet clothes. You looked around the large room for your basket of laundry, confused when you couldn’t find it.

Then, you realized you had taken it to your room earlier to finish folding the clean clothes. Could this day get any worse.

So, here you were standing naked in the House of Lamentation's laundry room, contemplating how you ended up here.

You had to come up with something quick before one of the brothers accidentally walked in on you.

Looking to your right, you saw a large black t-shirt with a design on it. You quickly picked it up, examining it. You had seen Beel wearing it at some point. You held it up to you and noticed that it was so big compared to you. It would be enough to cover you until you could make it to your room.

You quickly slipped Beel’s shirt on, double-checking that everything was covered before opening the door. All you had to do was make it to your room without being seen. Easy, right?

You turned out of the laundry room, immediately bumping into a large figure. The force caused you to stumble back as you felt two large arms steady you. You looked up to see Beel, looking at you like a confused puppy as he took in your appearance.

You immediately began blushing as he asked, “Are you wearing my shirt?” Your mind tried to explain the situation, but your words merely came out as a series of stuttered words before you gave up. “It’s a long story,” you told him defeatedly.

Beel could see that you had a long day and he didn’t want to make it worse. So, he didn’t question you any further. Besides, he had to admit it made him feel flustered, seeing you in his clothes. He thought it was adorable how his shirt looked like it was going to swallow you up at any moment.

“Keep it as long as you need,” Beel told you with a small smile. You were thankful that Beel didn’t make things any more awkward as you pushed past him to go to your room.

Beel entered the laundry room to get the rest of his clothes and noticed your discarded clothes. His cheeks felt hot as realized that you were completely nude underneath his shirt.

He did his best to push out intrusive thoughts as he made his way back to his room, his clean laundry in his arms.

Revenge.

When it came to you and Belphie, you were sure that was the only reason you did anything anymore.

Belphie liked to act like a brat and decided to do things he knew would frustrate you because he liked to see the way you would react.

So, he decided to start a prank war with you. But, you were not a pushover; and, you were going to make sure Belphie realized that once and for all.

So, when he started pulling minor pranks. You let him think he was getting the best of you, until you had pulled a much larger prank on him. You had surprised Belphie with your creativity and your tenacity. But, he wasn’t ready to back down either.

Minor pranks turned into much more serious ones, the two of you so wrapped up in your war that you could hardly pay attention to anything else.

You had just pulled your latest prank of Belphie the day before. You were waiting anxiously for Belphie to pull his prank, constantly watching your back.

He could strike from anywhere at any time.

It was getting late, so you had decided Belphie wasn’t going to pull his prank today. You went to your bedroom to go to bed.

However, as soon as you opened the door to your room, you immediately regretted it as a large bucket off water poured on top of you. You let out a small gasp as your clothes were completely drenched. Really?!

You let out a small scoff as you immediately began thinking of retaliation pranks, making your way to your closet to change into a dry pair of clothes.

But, when you got there, you saw that the closet was completely empty. Belphie had taken all of your clothes.

You were fuming as you made your way to the Twin’s Room, bursting through the door to find Belphie in there by himself, lounging on his bed with a smile.

“Where are my clothes?” you asked him, crossing your arms over your chest. “I’m sorry, I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Belphie replied, smirking back at you.

“All of my clothes are gone,” you stated, knowing full well that he was the culprit. “It looks like you’ll just have to sleep in your wet clothes then,” Belphie replied, turning his attention to his D.D.D.

You glared at him, anger coursing through your veins. He was not winning this one. After realizing Belphie wasn’t going to give you your clothes back, you came up with a new idea.

“Fine,” you told him, marching over to his closet. Belphie tore his eyes away from D.D.D to look up at you. “What are you doing?” he asked, watching your every move.

“If I can’t wear my clothes, then I’ll just have to wear yours,” you replied, stripping your shirt off before putting his on. The rage you were feeling was clouding your mind to the point where you didn’t even realize you had just undressed in front of Belphie.

Belphie most definitely realized though, the image of your half-naked body being seared into his mind as he looked at you in shock.

You then changed into a pair of Belphie’s sweatpants and his cheeks were stained pink as he tried to comprehend what was happening. Luckily, the shirt had covered most of what he would have seen. But, his imagination was running wild.

You turned to face him, wearing his clothes and his eyes traced every inch of you. You wore a satisfied smirk as you locked eyes. “Good night,” you stated, walking back out of the twins room, a blush on your cheeks at the way Belphie was looking at you. You won.

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madwomansapologist · 1 month ago

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──────〃✰ KINKTOBER DAY 1: 𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐏 𝐏𝐎𝐊𝐄𝐑

title: poker face synopsis: luckily, mr. zero didn't knew you were a mugiwara. luckily, mr. zero fell for your bluffs. unfortunately, you never imagined it would be that hard to not fall for crocodile's charm. [3.1K] cw: mugiwara!fem!reader, strip poker, strip tease, public sex, cock crush, nipple stimulation, size difference, fingering (f!receiving), riding, biting, scratching, finger sucking, p in v, creampie, possessive behavior, mob boss meets a baddie, pussy so good he wonders about marriage.

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With a thick cigar between his teeth, Crocodile forced himself to smile. “Five of a kind”, he dropped his cards on the table. “Seems like the house won. Again.”

Crocodile’s presence in Rain Dinners works to reinforce his reputation as a hero in this wretched island. Unfortunately, it also means Crocodile is tormented by the most boring clientele.

To watch someone gambling everything they own out of delusional hope and losing it all because of sheer mischance is only interesting the first few hundreds of times. Now, all Crocodile feels is disdain.

He curses those vermin that stole the joy of victory.

Murmuring complaints, two bettors left the table. The croupier stretched his arm, reaching for the cards left far away from him. As the cards were shuffled, Crocodile took in the chance to observe the tables nearby. Searching for chaos to be dealt with, such a common occurrence in a casino, an unusual sight stole his attention.

A long, thick, light pelted fur coat. Crocodile inhaled the smoke, holding it in. Admiring you with that coat over your shoulders, no one would’ve imagined this is the middle of a desert. And still, you didn’t break a sweat.

One of the bettors decided it was the right moment to thank Crocodile for his protection over Alabasta. He did his best to sound modest, heroic. To embody the last hope of this dying island. The moment a white blur entered his peripheral vision, Crocodile simply ignored the man’s existence.

With a hand over the chair’s top rail, you stared directly at the croupier. “May I?”, you asked, voice sultry as the desert.

Crocodile took the cigar out of his mouth, releasing the smoke in the direction opposite from you. “Made just in time”, he moved his hand towards the croupier ready to start. “Do you know how to play, hon’?”

You took a sip from your glass, not bothering to answer him. Placing your coat over the chair’s rail, you reached inside its pocket and took the poker chip’s box. You left it open on the table, emerald dress moving on your body as you sat down and crossed your legs.

The box was filled to the brim.

Your lack of interest on him ignited something within Crocodile. Curiosity. Something far more interesting than gambling against weak bluffs. “New to poker?”, Crocodile smiled devilish. The sort of smile that make pretty women like you forget about decency.

If only you had looked at him.

“New to this island”, you answered, sounding as bored as Crocodile was before you got there. The way you danced around his question was enough for him to know you didn’t want the others to think of you as an easy target. Usually, Crocodile would simply profit on it. This time, with you staring straight into his eyes, he couldn’t care less about this game. “Is it worth?”

“It will be.”

A promise Crocodile intended to fulfill.

Feeling his gaze burning your skull, to not smile was never so difficult. If you were weaker, you would’ve laugh until your cheeks fell apart from your face. How funny. How alluring. Ah, Luffy really told you the truth.

Your life will be funnier around me, Luffy gave you the brightest smile you ever saw. Stroking your cheek, he cleaned the trace of tears. I will never let you get bored.

A Shichibukai stands before you, unable to see you as part of the threat he is so interest in dealing with. The man that sent thousands of bounty hunters after your crew, that forced Vivi to witness as unnecessary violence tore her nation in pieces, doesn’t even know that you’re part of the group he wants to exterminate.

Good. That means the plan of distracting Crocodile has a chance of working.

Each bettor made an initial contribution for the deal to start. At every round, you raised the amount of chips. It didn’t matter if others were dropping out of the deal or if Crocodile doubled the bet with no hesitance. You simply continued to bet more.

That was alluring. It told more about you than your pretty lips could. You’re not here to make money. You’re not here to waste it. You’re here for amusement. And that Crocodile can give you any time.

“Showdown”, the croupier called. “Please, bettors, show your hands.”

The woman sitting beside you sighed, showing two pairs. Two bettors had dropped out, choosing to wait until the next deal. You placed your cards on the table. 4, 3, K, 10, 10. One pair. “Does that mean anything?”

The first man to drop out chuckled. “Only that you lost.”

Lost in the way your smile spread across your face, the croupier had to remind Crocodile it was his time to show the cards. “Three of a kind”, he murmured. This time, he put no effort into acting as if he cared that he won. Crocodile just wanted to learn more about you. “Do you know the rules?”

“Does it really matter?”, your bright smile was enough to enlighten the whole place. As the croupier changed the card sets, you gave him your solely attention. “The best liar wins at the end.”

“No surprise you haven’t won yet”, Crocodile smirked. He spread his legs, cigar between his fingers. His golden hook glistened, reminding you of the threat he represented simply by breathing. “It’s so easy to see right through you.”

But not to see how I stole all those chips from you, was what you thought. “Seems like a failure of mine”, was what you said out loud.

With a movement of his hand, a waiter approached. Crocodile whispered into his ear; eyes still fixated on you. Intoxicated on his presence, you forgot to look away. What a tempting man. From then on, your glass never remained empty.

Deal after deal, you continued to lose just as Crocodile continued to win. Deal after deal, you continued to answer just as Crocodile continued to ask.

Until there were only you two left at the casino. You let go of your glass and closed the poker chip’s box, raising from the chair. “Should have expected a pirate to be a good gambler.” You took your coat, walking away from the table. “Have a good night, Crocodile.”

“One last deal?” Crocodile was quick to offer. Desperately, you would add. “And then we call it.”

You raised the empty box. “I have nothing left to bet.”

And at that, Crocodile saw his last chance of amusing you. “Then let’s bet everything we have.”

Sat down again, chin supported by your palm, you frowned. The wine had started to affect you both. “And by that you mean…”

“Everything”, Crocodile spread his legs, resting his hook on his thick thigh. You told yourself he was begging for you to stare, but you weren’t that sure of it. “Every chip on this table. Everything on our bodies.”

As he closed his mouth, a part of Crocodile feared his proposition would offend you. It doesn’t happen often, but there is a chance he misread your signals.

“I’ve been eyeing your rings since I sat here”, you wondered out loud. “Just as you been eyeing my dress.”

But to be so straight to the point… Crocodile wasn’t quite expecting that. It was what he wanted, but to see how you two were connected made harder for him to breath.

Then you sighed.

“As tempting as it is,” and you were standing again. Crocodile hated to see that. He would hate even more to see you leaving. “It is also getting late. Like I said, I’m new to this island.”

“You have nothing to fear”, Crocodile bargained. “Not when I’m around.”

“But you won’t be around on my way back to the hotel.”

“Then stay here”, he offered. You arched an eyebrow. “I don’t intent on letting you walk away that easily. I’m a pirate. I’m used to taking what I want for myself.”

For an eternity, you both stared into each other’s eyes. A silent negotiation. His final offering, your final chance of doing the right thing and walking away from danger. You could see his very soul. How it burned just beneath the surface. Crocodile felt the same heat coming from you.

The croupier forced a cough, remind you of his presence. It took much of his strength for Crocodile to not kill him right then and there.

“Shuffle the cards and leave”, you ordered.

He obeyed. Quickly. You both took a look at your cards sets. A smile died within you. A smirk grew on Crocodile’s face. The moment the croupier closed the exit door, Crocodile showed his hand.

Crocodile looked even bigger than he already was, filled with the confidence of a winner. “Four of a kind.”

Dropping your hand on the table, you were the winner he believed to be. “Royal flush”, you smiled. “Pretty sure that’s the highest since we’re not using any wild cards.”

Shock was a good look on Crocodile. After analyzing your cards, his gaze returned to you. “You said you didn’t know how to play.”

“Oh”, you drank the last sip from your glass. “Did I?”

And at your answer, all he could do was laugh. Crocodile ran his hand through his black hair. “You hustle me”, he whispered. Crocodile wasn’t able to get rid of this genuine smile.

Your laugh was real too. It made Crocodile breath in your scent, get drunk on the sweet sound coming from you. Not a bluff, not an act. It was real, and it only made you more beautiful. “And now you have a debt to pay.”

His face darkened, reminding you of who he is. You hustled Crocodile. You hustled Crocodile. You never thought of yourself as a stupid woman, but here you are. For fucks sake. Luffy really is rubbing on you.

Crocodile bended over the table, his broad shoulders creating a shadow over you. His hand grabbed your chair’s arm, his hook moving your chin upwards. A strand of hair fell in front of his orange eyes, and looking into them you felt like a powerless prey about to be ravished.

Face lurking inches above yours, Crocodile smiled devilish. A smile that made you forget about decency, focusing only on the promise of more of him. More of the man that wants to kill you. “Enjoy the show”, Crocodile whispered.

His blue scarf was the first to be throw away, and neither of you cared about where it would land. His long fingers worked on the buttons of the rumpled black-striped vest, so slowly you almost took it off of Crocodile by yourself.

The peach shirt beneath showed a portion of his wide chest and instead of finally getting rid of it, Crocodile held the leather belt around his waist.

He had so much fun teasing you, admiring how you couldn’t look away. A man as handsome must feel entitled to the silent praise. He really thought he was the one in charge, didn’t he? And for long enough, Crocodile was.

You’re a lot of things, but you’re not patient.

Leaning against the chair, you raised your leg. The silver heel brushed against his pants, from down on his ankle until the insides of his thigh. And when your painted nails shined right in front of his crotch, you forced your feet against it.

“Stop playing around.” Cocking your head, eyes explored his still covered up body. “Don’t make me wait.”

Crocodile grabbed your ankles, calloused hand stroking softly your skin. It wasn’t a rough touch, but not less possessive because of it. You put more pressure, making him groan. “You are insane.”

“And why is that?”

“Anyone else would fear me”, Crocodile’s voice reminded you of velvet and sharp knives. It lingered on your ears. “And here you are. Demanding more.”

You sighed, fingers brushing against your lips. That voice… it was your last straw. Fighting his hold, you put your foot down on the ground. You grabbed his shirt, pushing him back until Crocodile sat down on his chair again.

He opened his mouth as you sat down on his lap, but you gave him no time to do anything. “You talk too much.”

Holding the chair’s top rail as leverage, you dive into him. Tooth biting his lower lip, tongue forcing a passage into his warm mouth. Your free hand found a spot on his large neck, bringing Crocodile closer to you. Instead of waiting, you took what you wanted for yourself.

Just like a pirate would.

She isn’t fragile, Crocodile thought. She won’t break.

Sinking into you, Crocodile forgot about self-control. He simply ravished you, just like you demanded of him. A wild animal and nothing more. Exploring your mouth as if it was his to control, hand grabbing your soft skin without a care about finesse or decorum. Crocodile pressed his hook against your chest, enjoying how it didn’t stop you from moving as you wanted to.

You got him out of that stupidly tight shirt, hands scratching his chest as your hips moved on top of his crotch. He forced you down, putting your whole weight upon himself, and ripped your emerald dress into pieces with his hook.

“You’ll pay for this one.”

It was a complain, but your fingers working to unbutton his pants made clear you couldn’t care less. His kisses travelled to your neck, tongue leaving a trail of drool on your shoulder, mouth closing against your nipples. Your fingers intertwined with his hair, encouraging Crocodile to continue.

“I will get you anything you want”, he said, voice muffled. He couldn’t get away from your body to speak. “You burn hotter than the fuckin desert.”

No shame, no hesitation. Freed from his pants, you licked your palm before grabbing his cock. You pumped him with zero delicacy, thumb pressing against the dark, sensitive head. Just like everything in Crocodile, it was big enough to make you wonder.

As if he could read you mind, Crocodile slid his hand into your panties. Long fingers explored your lips, precise with every movement. Thumb pressing against your clit, two fingers against your wet slit. His hook brushed against your thigh, arm locking around you to press you down on his fingers.

Your loud moan embarrassed your very soul, but all Crocodile did was laugh. His teeth closed around your neck, biting hard enough to make you whimper. That’ll mark you for sure. “Ride me, hon’.”

With your nails deep into his back, you stretched yourself on Crocodile’s fingers. You bit his earlobe, brushing your face against his as you speed up your movements. In your hand, his cock throbbed. Crocodile was leaking, burning in the same way you do.

“Take what you want”, you whispered against his ear. “Fuck me already.”

It happened so quickly, you barely understood how he moved. A second before you were on his lap, two fingers deep into your hungry cunt, lips around his ear. Then you were sat on the table, poker chips falling on the floor, Crocodile standing between your legs.

A fucking monster.

Crocodile took his drenched fingers from you, and wasted no time before sucking them clean. He grabbed your thighs, exposing yourself from him. “She’s delicious”, Crocodile stared at your pussy. His fingers pulled your lips apart. “Will get me addicted to her.”

Using your legs, you got him even closer to you. Crocodile grabbed your hair, pulling you into a messy kiss. Fighting against your tongue, he fit the head of his cock into you. You moaned into his mouth.

Moving your heels against his thighs, you forced him inside of you. A stupid decision. Your head collapsed against his shoulder, the entirety of his length touching all the right places. So good, so right, so… much.

Crocodile wasn’t in that much of a better situation. Eyes closes tightly, lips hanging open as a deep cry escaped. So wet, so warm. Moving slowly, Crocodile chortled. He had no control over his mind anymore.

“Don’t you dare stopping”, you manage to say. “Just… fu-fuck, just like that.”

Deep thrusts as his fingers worked on your clit: Crocodile wouldn’t dream of doing anything other than you wanted. He could feel your drool gathering on his shoulder. How your fingers were deep into his forearms, or how the hold of your legs around his waist weakened.

All Crocodile wanted was to make you as addicted to him as he already was to you. To get you to scream his name, begging for more and more. He wanted you to take from him. To get what you wanted. And Crocodile wanted everything you could give him.

Feeling waves of pleasure washing over you, mind empty as a white canvas, you tilted your head back. Eyes half-open, you admired him. His raw lips, face covered in sweat. Marks of lipstick all over his chest, just as deep nail marks and surface scratched. You looked down, watching as he entered you.

“You are worth way more than eighty million.”

Crocodiled bended, tongue playing with your aching nipple. “After my head, hon’?”, he sucked on them. You stroked his hair, enjoying how primal Crocodile looked.

“Do I look insane?”, you moaned.

Crocodile looked into your eyes, face near yours. You placed your arms around his shoulders, but he held you in place. Crocodile simply looked at you. As if there was something new, something he never saw before.

“You do”, Crocodile whispered. It felt so intimate. For a moment, you weren’t being fucked in an empty casino. For a moment, you two were sharing a secret. “You’re perfect.”

You melted against him. Lost on your orgasm, you unlearned how to breath. The fact you couldn’t think didn’t stop Crocodile from kissing you. As you closed around him, Crocodile reached his limit. Tooth deep into your throat, he marked you again.

Tears formed behind your eyes, throat aching as you finally breathed again. You laid your head on his chest, feeling it rising with his unregulated breathes. A firm hand held your waist, his nose stopped in the union of your shoulder and neck. His biting hurt so good, just like your scratches on his skin.

When Crocodile opened his eyes, the first thing he saw was his hand holding onto the table. He looked at the fours rings you said caught your attention. And he saw how there was only one finger lacking a ring.

Insane, Crocodile thought. She’s making me insane.

As his hips moved away, a cry left your throat as he emptied your pussy, your legs finally stopped working. Crocodile took his cigar from the ashtray, smoking it for a few seconds. When he released the smoke, you grabbed his chin and made him face you. Inhaling it, you closed your eyes.

Not a second after you let it go, his hand and hook slid beneath your thighs. Effortlessly, Crocodile took you from the table. Your shaken legs closed around his waist as he carried you. “What you doing?”

Crocodile finally looked into your eyes again. He smiled, and it was genuinely. “Taking what I want for myself.”

taglist: @ffinosie @lovelyy-moonlight @alzaira @s2-angells @eyes-ofhell @inlovewithmariah @chiiyohiimee @shaquilles-0atmeal @bloodyziggy @salemey @kcch-ns @notanalienindisguiseblink

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hornedmonsters · 4 months ago

Text

"A'thaen" Yautja Oc x Reader - Mate - nsfw

Warnings: nsfw, size difference, dead animals, yautja seeks a partner, exophilia, teratophilia, monster x human, alien sex, slow burn, sex in water, sex outdoors, blood play, breeding - English is not my native language!

Synopsis: You used to live in a small house near a forest. But one day you sensed something, someone was watching you and brought you gifts. A strange creature that could kill you with sheer force and he was looking for a mate for life.

Words: 8k

German Version

You never worried about whether it was safe to live alone in an old house near the forest. The nearest big town was a good half hour away from you and it was rare for people to pass by. The letter carrier, maybe, but very rarely. Not even tourists or hikers were to be seen here. The nature around you was rough and a bear liked to sneak around the river near you. It was dangerous, especially in the salmon season, but you respected nature and its fauna and stuck to the rules:

Stay on the path.

Stay out of the way of mother animals.

Never get between predator and prey.

Make noises so that you are not suddenly confronted without warning.

And most importantly. Never travel in the dark without weapons. You had a weapon but never used it, you wanted to avoid it because you didn't see weapons as a positive thing. They only caused death and destruction and people had become dangerous beings through war and hatred. One of the reasons you lived out here.

You stared out of the window. Dark clouds were moving across the sky, it was definitely going to rain soon and somehow you were looking forward to it. You loved rain, it calmed you down and you always took one of your many books and made yourself comfortable on your sofa. Enjoying the peace and quiet, listening to the patter of the rain while the wind whistled outside and the trees gave way awkwardly under the force of the wind and the rain.

You flinched when you suddenly heard wolves howling in the distance. Puzzled, you looked up. Normally wolves had little desire to be active in this weather, at least that's what you thought, but you could hear how restless the otherwise brave predators were. You sat so still on your sofa, as if a murderer was going to jump in at any moment and you were trying not to attract attention because of the silence.

It was only seconds before an agonizing, screaming squeak made you tremble. It sounded like a wolf, but its wail was so high-pitched that it almost sounded like a child in agonizing pain. You swallowed. Your heart pounded and fear rose up inside you. What was out there?

The next scream made you flinch even more, but it didn't stop at two. A pack consisted of five to fourteen members. Alpha animals, kittens, puppies. Everything was there, sometimes even the grandparents were still there if they had a good chance of living. You knew the pack. You affectionately called them the River pack, because the wolves always stayed close to the river and had their territory there. The river was about five hundred meters from your home and you could clearly hear one wolf after another going silent. It made your blood run cold.

Something strange was going on out there. What kind of predator would kill an entire pack of at least seven animals just like that? There were seven of the Riverwolves at your last count. It was a comfortable pack size and you enjoyed watching them with your binoculars. A bear perhaps? But did bears ever attack a whole pack of wolves?

Out of paranoia you checked the door again, fine, it was locked. There was another door, it led into a small stable of sorts. But there was nothing in it, you had emptied it out and used it as a kind of lair as you had no animals. You no longer felt like reading, so you got ready for bed and went to sleep. Even though your pulse was still beating strongly against your skin.

It took a while for you to fall asleep, but when sleep pulled you in, it was deep and firm. You woke up refreshed and got out of bed. Your breakfast consisted only of an apple, as you were rarely hungry after getting up. You packed your bag and went out the door. You wanted to go for a walk, even though you were still feeling the effects of last night. But it always smelled so good after it had rained. Especially in the forest.

You hummed to yourself and went on your daily walk. You knew this route inside out, since you've lived here, you've always walked it as best you could. It led you past berry bushes where you had tasted some of the sweet fruits and every now and then you could spot a deer.

You were so lost in thought that you didn't notice how you were being watched. But how could you? The creature was invisible and hiding in one of the trees, staring at you like a vulture that had found new carrion. The creature followed you for a few meters and watched your every move. Almost curiously.

Your legs carried you unintentionally to the river, you wanted to see the area. Maybe you could find out what had killed the wolves, but it was as if nothing had ever happened. No blood, no cadavar, nothing! Someone had done a thorough job and you were beginning to fear that it might be poachers who were up to mischief here. You didn't see the danger coming, but He did.

A crack in the bush sent shivers down your spine and you turned cautiously. A large grizzly stepped out of the undergrowth. Its heavy panting made you gulp and you walked slowly backwards until you could feel the gravel under your shoes. Behind you was the riverbed and you considered jumping in, but at the same time you were worried that it might trigger the bear in front of you. Today was definitely not your day.

“Take it easy,” you whispered and tried to breathe calmly. But the bear in front of you stomped up, a growl came from its throat and then the male animal reared up in front of you in all its glory. Your eyes grew wide and your instincts kicked in, you ran. The bear's roar still in your ears, he was so close and tears welled up in your eyes. What had you done to deserve this now? What had you done wrong?

You really thought you were going to die, the thought of bears eating their prey alive and not bothering to kill them beforehand made your stomach churn. Your lungs burned and a root became your doom. You hadn't seen it and painfully you tripped over it and fell into the shallow water. You groaned as the stones tore open your knees and the bear's heavy gallops came closer. You were about to scramble to your feet just as the beast's huge jaws shot towards you. But things turned out differently than you had expected.

The grizzly was pushed aside with full force, but you couldn't see anyone. Even the bear seemed confused, but it sensed something. Now it was even angrier and another roar came from its mouth. He ran towards a place where there was no one, but it seemed different. The bear actually grabbed someone, but your eyes couldn't see him. For the time being. But then outlines flashed, they were hard to make out, they glowed, then they showed some skin. Dark skin, lizard-like. Confused and disturbed, you drew your brows together and watched the spectacle.

The bear didn't stand a chance, even though he put up a brave fight. He took blow after blow, but then he bit down when his half-invisible opponent briefly lost focus. Green liquid flowed out of the bear's mouth and it turned back in your direction. But before anything could happen to you, the bear howled. Its throat was severed with a smooth cut.

A strangled cry escaped your throat as the invisible creature lifted the lifeless body, which weighed a good three hundred kilos. Then it revealed itself. Its skin became clearer and you gulped as you looked at the large alien-like creature before you. Drenched in the blood of its victim. Under the red you could see obsidian skin, he was wearing a mask and you forgot to breathe. Would he kill you now too? Had he saved you?

“Thank you,” you breathed, not noticing the tears running down your cheeks as the adrenaline slowly wore off and you were safe for now. The alien tilted its head slightly and a clicking sound came from its mouth. You felt uncomfortable under his probing gaze. Then he threw the bear over his shoulder and left. You quickly got up and watched him go. He simply disappeared into the forest and left you alone. You held your hand to your chest and a weeping sigh escaped from your dry throat. You ran home as fast as you could. You had definitely had enough of today.

You avoided the forest for the next few days, you had little desire to get into a situation like that again, besides there was this creature you didn't know what it was. You tried to put things behind you, it hadn't returned and the bad weather outside made you sit in your cozy home and read your books again. You drank tea and tried not to think about that day anymore.

If he/she had wanted to kill you, he/she would have done it long ago. You sighed and put some more wood in your fireplace. Despite the heat, you were shivering and not even the raindrops on your window could calm down. Just when you thought you were at peace, there was a bang outside. Someone had knocked over your garbage cans, or something. You took a deep breath and stood up. Your feet carried you towards the door, your mind racing, wondering if you were doing the right thing and if you were about to die.

Your fingertips touched the knob and you cautiously opened the back door. You couldn't react at all when a heavy weight slammed against the wood and you landed on the floor with a yelp. A dull thud beside you. Your eyes widened after you rubbed your bottom painfully. There it was! Next to you, its dark skin covered in a green. Liquid that had to be his blood.

As if struck by lightning, you got up and examined the creature in front of you. It still had its helmet on, but a large notch adorned the metal. That wasn't there last time. A clicking sound drew you out of your spell. Your eyes scrutinized him critically. His breathing was heavy and he seemed to be injured. Should you really be helping him? But he had helped you too. You sigh.

You slowly walked towards him. A growl came from his throat and you flinched, raising your hands.

I don't want to hurt you, you whispered, and his helmet turned more in your direction. He was watching you intently, you felt it and it made you nervous.

“Let me help you,” you spoke slowly, hoping he understood. Another click, he seemed to be thinking. But then came a nod and carefully you moved closer to him.

“You have to take it off,” you whispered, looking at his helmet. The creature hesitated and only now did you see how tall it actually was. It had to be well over two meters. No wonder he could slay a bear with his bare claws.

He didn't even try to struggle to his feet as he almost grabbed the helmet. You heard a few clicks as if something was opening on the helmet and slowly it let go. You held your breath as you slowly saw what was hiding under the mask.

A large head, four fangs that could fold out, it reminded you of a spider and you shivered, silver eyes staring at you. It seemed almost amused when the creature noticed you staring at it, it had probably already expected such a reaction. But you remain calm.

You quickly fetch your first aid kit and get out the essentials. A bowl of warm water, thread and needle, everything was ready. You carefully started to wipe the blood off his smooth scales. You couldn't describe how it felt. He was neither cold nor warm, his obsidian black skin was dull and spikes grew out in places. He had long dreadlocks with blood red beads woven into them and his small silver eyes watched you intently. His muscles were firm and sinewy, it almost felt like he had metal plates underneath, but it was just his pure strength and he looked really strong. Big and powerful. You gulped.

His looks made you uneasy and you didn't know exactly what it was. Countless faded scars adorned his body, he must have fought a lot in his life. But one scar caught your eye the most. It was a large, elongated scar on his chest, it hadn't been a clean cut, it looked more like someone had tried to rip something out of his chest. You couldn't just survive something like that.

“Scared?” the creature suddenly croaked and you stiffened. It could talk?! You tried to stay cool and took a quick breath.

“No,” you said firmly and stared into his eyes, not wanting to appear weak. The next wound was on his chest and you gently stroked the rough flesh. He purred, but it didn't sound painful, more soothing… like he was… enjoying it. You tried to concentrate, but his mere presence made you fuzzy and the feel of his muscles under his skin made you weak. You gritted your teeth. Stop it, (y/n)! He's an alien, dammit!

“You like… what you… See?” he asked brokenly and you ignored the glow in your cheeks. He was toying with you, you saw the amusement in his eyes. His ego was bigger than he was and really, you should have kicked him out.

You didn't answer him, but started stitching up his wounds. His eyes were half closed and he was watching you with a predatory look. Under your hands you could feel how tense he was. He was still in flight mode and ready to kill at any moment.

“Why are you hurt?” you asked now and he clicked again.

“Fight,” he breathed deeply.

“What were you fighting? You defeated the bear with ease and there's nothing bigger out there,” he had remained silent and just continued to stare at you. You tensed up and now your eyes found his.

“There isn't anything bigger out there, is there?” you almost panicked. He snorted in exhaustion, but there was ambition in his eyes.

“Yes…, but…dead,” he growled, making a few more chirping sounds, ”I… have…killed.” That was the last thing he said before his eyes closed and he was gone. His body was apparently close to the limit and he must have really put a lot of strength into the fight. You looked at his wounds again, in peace. Now that he was asleep. He was really lucky they didn't go any deeper. He must really be an experienced fighter, what creature would mess with him?

You shook your head and washed your hands. Then you grabbed a pillow and a blanket and put his head on the pillow, then you put the blanket over him, even though he was way too big for it. But it was better than nothing.

What did you get yourself into?

The big robber slept until the next day. You got up, but he was no longer lying on the floor where he had last fallen asleep. Somehow you weren't surprised that he had left. He had no reason to stay. But at least he had tidied up the blanket and pillow. You sighed and put the first aid kit back in its place, but a rumble made you sit up. It came from outside your front door.

Astonished but curious, you opened the door only to see, with a stifled scream, a large grizzly skull lying on your porch. There was no flesh left on the bone and it had been thoroughly cleaned. You had a feeling that it was the grizzly that had attacked you a few days ago.

Hesitantly you picked up the skull, you had a slight idea who it could be from. But why did he give you a skull? You placed the skull on the ledge of your fireplace and looked at it. It made you tremble as you remembered how those teeth wanted to dig into your flesh.

It didn't stop with the skull. Every day… really every day, there was something on your doorstep. Skulls, whole animals that you could skin and jewelry made of bones and beautiful stones. You now had a whole ration of game meat and you barely had any room left in the freezer. You displayed the skulls on your fireplace. Wolves, foxes, birds, it was all there. There was even a cougar skull by the door, but there was one thing you liked best from the unusual gifts.

It was a necklace made of predator teeth with a beautiful red gemstone in the middle. You wondered where he had found it. There must have been gemstones out there somewhere, but it must have taken a lot of effort to find one. But you asked yourself one question every single day. Why? Why did this giant give you gifts and bring you food? He had no reason to, or was it his way of saying 'thank you' because you had helped him?

Then you investigated, you grabbed your laptop and went looking. As silly as it sounded, you typed in 'what animals give each other gifts' and read through a post. There are indeed animal species that give each other gifts to impress the female: birds, fish and even insects did it. Apart from that, chimpanzees did something similar. For meat and fruit, the females slept with the males and you swallowed. Was he trying to impress himself? As if that at the river when he lifted the bear wasn't impressive enough.

Shaking your head, you closed your laptop. You didn't believe this alien wanted anything from you, if only because you were human. It was almost ridiculous. You laughed, apart from the fact that he was an alien? A big, strange creature that could kill you with ease.

There was something else on the floor of your porch that day that gave you pause. It was… Flowers. The most beautiful you'd ever seen. You sat by the river and looked intently at the small bouquet of wildflowers. No one had ever given you a gift like this before and you didn't want to admit it, but it made you happy somehow and sent a pleasant tingle through your body.

“You… find beautiful?” the deep, robotic voice made you freeze and you gulped. He was here, only maybe a meter away from your weak form sitting on the floor. Slowly, you turned your head and there he stood. As if he hadn't been almost dead in your house recently.

“j..yeah…they're really pretty,” you said almost shyly and a slight smile crept onto your lips. He nodded and continued to look at you through the small eyes in his mask.

“Thank you,” he clicked, apparently he had acknowledged it with that. You thought about asking him why he gave you the gifts, your heart pounded and you hesitated.

“Why are you giving me so many presents?” You nervously played with the stems of the flowers and waited for the answer. Inwardly, you hoped that he would simply say that he did it because you helped him. But it didn't turn out as you expected.

“Gifts… for… partners,” he grunts and your eyes widen. You felt like you were about to faint, your heart was beating against your chest and it almost hurt. At the same time, your cheeks burned and you blushed. He saw you as a suitable partner?

“Courting… you,” came out of his mouth next.

“I don't think I'm a suitable partner for you. I'm a human and you're an-” you thought about what you could say because you felt ‘alien’ would be rude.

“Yautja,” he finished your sentence and you raised your eyebrows.

“Your kind call themselves Yautja?” he nodded.

“What are you doing here? Are you just here to find a mate?” you followed up and he shook his head. Then he pointed at himself with a claw.

“Going hunting… Xenomorph. But I sensed… suitable partner is… here,” he tried to explain. You could hear how hard it was for him to speak in your language, considering his speech consisted only of clicking noises and growls.

“I see,” you laughed, ‘I don't even know your name,’ his head cocked to the side, watching your lips curl. The sound coming from your mouth was foreign to him, but he thought it sounded pleasant. No Yautja female made such beautiful sounds. His instincts had not been wrong.

“A'thaen,” he growled, ”my name…, A'thaen.”

“That's a really… nice name. My name is (Y/n),” you introduced yourself and then the Yautja went down on his knees. He was still huge in front of you, but now you could look at him a little better without having to contort your neck completely.

“My instincts… led me… here. To you,” then he moved his claws and took off his mask. You were surprised by this, because he seemed to take this mask for hunting and it seemed really important to him.

“Become… my… Partner. I am… good, experienced hunter. Can… protect and… Provide,” he almost cooed and it made you blush how he was trying to woo you. But you weren't sure, you couldn't speak his language, nor did you know anything about his culture.

“I'm not sure. I don't know you at all and a few days ago I thought you were going to kill me,” you swallowed and you expected A'thaen to get angry, but he nodded again.

“Ki'sei,” he said and you didn't understand what he had said. But you were amazed that he seemed to have a language with words after all, not just clicking sounds. He saw the look on your face and was amused. “I… I see,” he rumbled, and then you understood.

“Give me time,” you spoke, now standing up, ”let me… get to know you. get to know you,” your nervousness grew. What would you get yourself into here? You didn't know him and could you even love him? He was an alien, yes. But the fact that he had saved you and made the effort to give you gifts made you see him in a different light. Even his appearance didn't really bother you much, why should it. He wasn't ugly or scary just because you didn't know what he looked like. On his planet, he was perhaps one of the prettiest.

His bright eyes scrutinized you. Only now did you notice that his eyes weren't completely silver. They were green-gold on the inside and you had to admit to yourself that you found them pretty. You woke up from your stupor when his large, long-clawed claw took one of your strands of hair. Not daring to move, your eyes met his.

“Sei'i,” he nodded at you, then let go of your strand and stood up.

“Take all the time… You need. No…hurry,” he growled and you felt relieved. So now you had the chance to meet him, a large alien who was over two meters tall and could kill a bear with ease.

A'thaen even accompanied you home. You had offered him the chance to sleep in the house so that he wouldn't have to sleep outside in the bad weather. He gratefully accepted. The bad weather actually didn't bother him much, he still had his smaller spaceship to sleep in. But he was reluctant to refuse to let him into your house. He didn't know why his instincts had chosen you, you are small, weak and human. But this awakened his protective instinct and he felt a great need to look after you.

He felt his body reacting to you, to your scent. Especially when you were scared. He couldn't deny that it excited him the way you were scared, it was just in his nature. He was an elite hunter. One of the best of his tribe, if not the best. He has killed many xenomorphs, many different types of large predators. On Earth and also on many other planets. Even humans have not been spared. Once he started he couldn't stop, he was in a bloodlust and that made him a feared hunter; his experience, his strength and his temperament made him the deadliest Yautja of his tribe.

His heart was cold and he did not let emotions get to him, something the younglings learned very early on. Especially when they were being trained as hunters, but then you came along. A little human who most likely couldn't even give birth to successors and clouded his mind. Your weak body aroused him and awakened his instincts, but he had to restrain himself. You were no Yautja female who could be fucked easily. You were fragile and probably wouldn't even be able to take all of him.

He wanted you gentle, he wanted you to come to him willingly and ask him to make you his and breed you. But deep down, he really wanted to be gentle. He was known to be a killer, a monster. But he would not harm his future female, he would look after you and kill anyone who could harm you. He wanted to be an equal lover. In fact, he didn't think much of the mating behavior that many Yautja had. Many females of his species mated with several males. It was neither about love nor about the shared feeling of being one. They simply wanted to reproduce, to satisfy their urges. But it annoyed him, he longed for something different, something gentle and long. For you. He only wanted you.

You thought about where he could sleep best. He was so big. Too big for the bed, too big for the couch. Your brain was working, then you thought of something. Since you were a frostbite, you still had some blankets in the wardrobe, which you fetched as quickly as possible. With great effort, you built him a bed right in front of the fireplace. Two mattresses and five blankets should be enough. A'thaen watched you with amusement and attention at the same time. No one had ever made a bed for him before and he admired how much effort you had put into it. His gaze fell on the fireplace and pride grew in his chest when he saw the gifts he had given you. You had kept all the skulls and the necklace was there too and he purred. He really liked it.

“How are your wounds,” your voice snapped him out of his thoughts and he turned to you. His head tilted slightly.

“Better… Wounds heal… Faster…, with Yautjas,” he explained and you nodded. His mandibles twitched and he could sense that you were nervous. He wondered why.

“May I see them?” you asked and A'thaen nodded, then began to undress. You blushed and the hunter in front of you could smell it, he could even hear your heartbeat and it made his ego grow. He liked the way you reacted, the way your body responded.

He took off his armor. Shoulder plates, arm guards, breastplate, knee armor and his stocking nets he took off, he also put down the plates on his loincloth. His wounds had healed completely, only pale patches were still visible and you were amazed. And now you could see him in his full glory.

His skin was matt black, only the skin on his chest, inner arms, thighs and palms was a few shades lighter. On his back you could see wild patterns and his skull plate was decorated with an ornament-like pattern. He had thick thighs and his upper arms also showed the pure strength that was in him. He had a thick mane of dreadlocks and you admired the beautiful blood-red beads that caught your eye the first time you saw him. They suited him. But what fascinated you the most were his eyes. You had never seen eyes like his before. They were like liquid silver and in the middle was this green-gold color that made him truly unique.

“Do you… still like what… you see?” he asked, croaking, his mandibles twitching. You shook your head in amusement.

“You have a really big ego, A'thaen,” and you had to chuckle. His mandibles twitched again as he heard the strange sound from you again. Hoomans called it 'laughter' or 'giggling'. Yautjas didn't have that, but he really liked hearing it from you.

Then he grabbed the tense bicep he'd lifted earlier with his one claw and pressed against the hard flesh.

“That… is big,” he growled and you rolled your eyes. What a show-off. But you couldn't ignore the way his taut biceps had an effect on you. His eyes flashed with pleasure as he could smell your scent changing again. You didn't want to admit that you liked him, but your body couldn't deny it.

“Do you like what you see?” you asked him now and he nodded immediately.

“Sei'i!”

You blushed, he hadn't even hesitated, you had. You had not yet admitted that you liked him, that he somehow managed to impress you, that his muscles were not foreign to you and his strength impressed you.

“A'ket'anu,” A'thaen chirped and you could have sworn his gaze turned affectionate. But alas, you didn't understand what he said.

“I think you need to teach me your language,” you grin sheepishly and with a chirp he agreed with you.

“Fine,” he growls, ”A'ket'anu… means… beautiful. Just like… You,” now you could swear your face was as red as a tomato. How could someone who looked so terrifying say such things?

“Will… teach you… Teach you,” he nodded. And he did. The next day, he had tried to teach you the basic words so that you could understand him better. It was difficult for you to emphasize the accents correctly, but the Yautja had a lot of patience. You spent a good two weeks learning.

“Not… bad,” he grunts, nodding at you appreciatively. You felt the pride in your chest and smiled.

“Why can you speak my language?” you asked curiously, setting down a cup of tea for the Yautja, who eyed it curiously.

“Been… often…on Planet. Earth. Have… quickly… learned,” he explained, tasting the flavored hot water. It was strange, but not bad.

“How old are you?” you asked next, wondering how old Yautjas could get.

“Three hundred years,” A'thaen replied and your mouth dropped open. Three hundred… Years? He didn't look old, if you could interpret it. He was strong, agile and well-built and apparently three hundred years was like young adulthood in Yautjas.

“That's really… old?” it sounded more like a question than a statement and A'thaen almost seemed offended, shaking her head.

“Three hundred very young… about the age… of a human… Between… twenty-three and twenty-seven. Approximately,” he explained and you nodded, not wanting to offend him, but three hundred years is a lot. He had told you more. About Yautja Prime, his life and the Xenomorph. You had to swallow, because they were the other big predators here on the planet and there had been some near you. It made you feel quite different to think that the strange and deadly creatures might have seen you a long time ago and it wouldn't have been long before they would have struck.

A'thaen noticed your discomfort and placed a heavy claw on your shoulder comfortingly, even though he didn't say anything. You could feel that he wanted to reassure you and you looked at him gratefully. But then he did something that made you tense every muscle. His claw began to stroke your collarbone. It was so big that it covered part of your breasts and it was an intoxicating sight. He was so big. You had never seen anything bigger.

Carefully he slid further and let his hand rest on your hips. He had rough hands, but it was pleasant the way he touched you and you had the dull feeling that on his home planet things weren't always really gentle when it came to such things. But it was the same here.

His thumb claw gently stroked the fat of your belly and he admired it, you were so soft. Your skin was smooth and not leathery and he began to purr. He could break through your skin so easily, a little more force and he would see a drop of blood ooze from the stitch. But he didn't, of course. His other hand grabbed your leg and he stood between your legs. You were imprisoned by the power he was using for good, now kneading the flesh of your thigh. You sighed blissfully and realized how much it fascinated him too. Logically, you were so different from him.

He continued kneading and again you sighed contentedly, he clicked. A'thaen absorbed every bit of information his touch triggered in him and your pleasurable sounds made him hard. He could feel his blood flowing into his cock and he was getting hard, but it wasn't the right time yet. He wanted you to trust him completely and want it too. Now he took his claw and traced from your navel up to your breasts, you whimpered at the touch and the way he lifted your breasts as his hand ran against them.

You weren't wearing a bra and the Predator's eyes could see your bursting nipples. They were already pebbly and a growl escaped his throat as he could now detect your scent. The tip of his thumb slid over your standing nipple and you closed your eyes, your brows crinkling. You had been trying to concentrate, to not let yourself get foggy. He hadn't even been here long and already you were letting an alien touch you and make you wet.

A'thaen became bolder and took your right breast completely in his large claw. The rough skin of his hand pads made you shiver and you felt so very sensitive. Of course, you were already familiar with sex, even though you had almost no male visitors out here. But you knew how to help yourself and now this was this huge alien who thought he could make you so wet with a single touch.

“A'thaen,” you sighed and your eyes looked at him pleadingly from under your lashes, but he didn't continue. His silver-green eyes just stared at you. You could hear him suck in the air and you could feel him tense up, but then he let go of you. Just like that, you looked at him, confused.

He couldn't make you his yet. A'thaen knew his tail would be far too big for you, at least at first, and it would take good preparation, even if you wanted something else. He needed to distract himself before he did something wrong, he didn't want to hurt you or do anything rash, so he went out of your house, hunting. You were still lying on the kitchen counter where you had sat before your little game, half confused and agitated.

With dizzy legs, you got up and looked after the Yautja as he quickly disappeared into the forest. Damn, he couldn't just abandon you like that, yet you were understanding and let him go.

A'thaen growled and the next moment he slammed his claws into a tree and ripped them out again. The wood splintered and left huge gouges. He had to distract himself, but the soft skin of you had burned into him and was driving him mad. He had been so close to making you his, breeding you and making you beg for more. He could have taken what he wanted with ease, but he didn't want you like that. Somehow he did want it, but he also wanted you to want him, because you also… loved him.

That word was so foreign, but also so close. Love… . Yautjas usually didn't know love, at least it was rare and they certainly didn't have love for another species. There were always exceptions and he had heard of some of his kind taking human females as mates.

But you were the one and he was about to go too far, but he could smell you wanting him and he could feel his cock getting hard again at the thought. He had checked out the surroundings through his mask. He would go hunting.

You were a little surprised when you saw the buck lying on your porch. At the same time, you were pleased. He was still here. A'thaen had not shown his face for seven days now and you had missed him, yet he had continued to give you gifts and you were very grateful for that.

On the eighth day, you used the time to cook. You cooked a stew from the venison and you could smell it all the way outside. You were so distracted that you didn't notice an invisible figure sneaking up behind you and placing large claws on your hips. You cried out and quickly turned around with a knife in your hand. But the blade was gripped by a claw and you widened your eyes.

“A'thaen!!! What the hell is this?” you sneered at him and he glared at you in amusement. Then you noticed the blade in his claw and green blood dripped along the metal. Your eyes immediately went wide in shock.

“Oh no! I'm so sorry… I-” he interrupted you.

“It's all right… I've… Worse,” he put the knife down and his eyes stared at the cut in his hand and the small hands of you holding it. So small and fragile. He didn't notice the cheeky gleam in his eyes as you thought of something.

“I know a good spot in the forest where you could go hunting,” you breathed and now his eyes were on your face, patterning you.

“About two kilometers from here, by a river. There are hot springs there too,” you almost whispered the last part, but he heard it anyway. You wanted your revenge and you were going to get it. You couldn't get his touch out of your mind and it had scared you how much you had reacted to him. But you didn't realize it was because of his pheromones, which were part of what made you want him. This effect was particularly noticeable with potential partners. It happened all by itself.

"I don't know this… place," he admitted and seemed to be pondering. Normally he chose his hunting spots himself, but he became curious. He was always up for new hunting grounds. He swung his head in your direction when he felt your hand on his forearm.

"You haven't seen each other for a long time. I-I missed you," you confessed to him and A'thaen's eyes widened briefly. You had missed him? Even though he had just left you standing there. His heart sank at that statement. He cooed and his large hand gently stroked your cheek.

"I missed… you too," he purred and a slight smile graced your face. You could feel your heart stopping and maybe you just had to admit to yourself that you found this alien attractive. You didn't feel weird about it, you found it exciting and you had nothing to lose.

"Would you like something to eat?" you asked him in his language and he seemed surprised. Had you continued to study diligently? Brave Hooman. He only now felt the hole in his stomach and nodded slightly. You gave him some of your stew and he gulped it down greedily without leaving a drop. You laughed. What a greedy mouth, but you couldn't help but notice the sauce running down his chin and you licked your lips. He noticed your look but said nothing. He just stored it away.

A'thaen walked through the forest, he wanted to go to the place you had suggested. He wanted to visit you this morning, but you weren't there. Since you were an independent being, he hadn't thought about it at first. Maybe you were getting things for Hooman. He paused when he noticed a scent, his mask scanned the area, but he found nothing at first. His mandibles clicked in surprise and he continued on.

But then he noticed something. As if from nowhere, a deer jumped out of a bush, with a quick movement he grabbed it easily before it could jump away. The animal's squealing made his instinct scream and with a skilled grip he ripped out the animal's vertebrae. The carcass hung limply in his claws, but he wasn't finished yet. He carefully cut open the chest and removed the heart, took off his mask and the hunger for blood permeated his veins as he bit into the bloody muscle and devoured it.

He noticed how he was slowly losing control and wanted more. With quick steps he pushed through the undergrowth, further and further and there he was again. That smell…, your smell. An electric shock shot through his body and he became suspicious, what were you doing out here in the forest? Had something happened to you?

When he pushed some of the bushes out of the way, he froze. There were some hot springs in front of him, there were several natural pools of different sizes and you were sitting in one of them, with your eyes closed.

"You were here pretty quickly," you grinned and opened your eyes. The sight of him was simply divine. The poor Yautja really had no idea what this was all about. Then a light went on in his head.

"You lured me here," he said in Yautja language and you grinned cheekily at him.

"Yes. As punishment for leaving me behind that one day, you have to watch me bathe now," you laughed and got up from the water. A'thaen's eyes became greedy when he saw your wet, smooth body. He could feel his tail twitching at you and a growl coming from his throat.

"Don't you dare tease me, Hooman," he growled and started to get dangerously close to you. He was really close to not being able to control himself anymore. You accepted the challenge and started to knead your breasts, which immediately made him growl loudly. You sighed and pinched one of your nipples between your fingers.

"I didn't think it was very nice that you touched me like that and then just left," you said, panting and feeling yourself getting wet. A'thaen was now dangerously close to you, he started to take off his armor and his loincloth was thrown to the side as well. Your eyes widened when you could see his thick length. But the sight of it emerging from his sheath, swollen and hard, also excited you.

Suddenly you were grabbed, a wave hit your thighs and stomach and you gasped as the Yautja pulled you towards him. His look was murderous and greedy.

"I wanted to mate with you when you were ready. If you loved me. Yautja almost always take what they want, but I didn't want to force you to be mine," he growled and you had to make an effort to understand him. But you did and now you understood what his problem was. He wanted your consent and it made your heart swell.

"Do you love me?" you asked him and his grip tightened so much that it almost hurt.

"Yes! I love you, ever since the first day I sat in my ship and felt you. When I felt that you were my partner and you don't know how much I hold back from taking you right here and filling you with all my seed that has been building up inside me for so long," his honest words impressed and excited you at the same time and your mouth was open. His silver eyes burned into yours and you were so ready to let him join you.

Your hand ran along his jaw and his eyelids drooped. He purred at your touch and his cock pressed against your stomach. Your hands continued to explore him, running over his toned chest, over his chiseled abs and to his powerful hips. You imagined how they would feel between your legs and you subconsciously bit your lip.

A'thaen had no patience left, he grabbed your hips and fell backwards. You clung to his shoulders and squealed as the water swayed against you. You were now sitting on his lap, in the middle of the hot springs and you weren't even sure if it was your own heat or the steaming springs.

"You… start," the Yautja growls, looking at you lovingly and lustfully at the same time.

"Don't want to… hurt you," he moans as you take his swollen cock in your hand. It was really thick and big, which didn't surprise you, but it also put you off a bit. Could you even take it?

You carefully placed yourself over him, you could feel how swollen you were and how much you wanted him now, so you gently lowered yourself onto him. A growl came from his chest as he could feel his glans slowly entering you and stretching you. Your mouth was open, it felt good, despite the fact that it burned slightly.

You moaned as you sank deeper, your head slightly back and your eyes closed. A'thaen could see the strong pulse in your neck and it drove him wild. How he wished he could be on top to take care of you and give you your satisfaction, but you knew you had to get used to his size first so you wouldn't hurt yourself.

He was almost completely inside you and you had never been as full as you were today. You didn't regret an inch of him being inside you. You could feel him slowly approaching your cervix and it made you pause for a moment, but suddenly he rocked his hips up and you moaned as a strange but familiar feeling ran through your body.

You hadn't had sex in a long time and having something like this now overstimulated your senses to the limit. You moved your hips forward and the delicious feeling gave you goosebumps. Your fingers dug into his forearms while he still held you tightly by the hips and you took full advantage of the fact that you were in charge.

Even though you could feel him bucking beneath you and throwing his head back. The water had long since mixed with the blood of his victims and you didn't care that it stuck to your palms, it just gave you a forbidden and disgusting kick.

"A'thaen," you gasped lustfully and moved faster. He growled and forced you to move even faster. Your mouth fell open again, it was so much, he was so much. His mandibles were wide open and came dangerously close to your face, but it didn't matter. You knew he wouldn't hurt you and you were too caught up in your intoxication.

You gasped and a scream escaped your lungs as his fangs dug into your shoulder and left his mark on you.

Your clitoris rubbed against his lower abdomen, making you even wetter. You rubbed yourself against him like an animal and felt yourself getting closer to your orgasm. You forgot the world around you as everything contracted and you didn't care much as your fingernails dug into his scaly skin and you moaned loudly as your orgasm flooded you with happiness hormones. A'thaen did the same. His claws pecked you as he came inside you, growling and snorting deeply.

You clung to his neck and tried to calm your rapid heartbeat. A'thaen's heartbeat was also uncontrollable and it was still twitching inside you. Sweat ran down your face and you just realized what you, you, had done. You were now tied to him. The four red dots on your shoulder made it pretty clear.

Gently but firmly, A'thaen grabbed your neck and forced you to look at him.

"You belong to me now," he growled and you just nodded and moaned as you felt his cock getting hard again inside you. He would now show you every day who you belonged to and you didn't mind. You were excited about the future with your companion.

Part 2 ?

#yautja x human #yautja x reader #predator x reader #monsterfucker #monsterlover

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writtenbymoonflower · 6 months ago

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Heyoo! How are you dove? Can I request more roommate!poly!marauders x shy!reader pleasee! Your fics have a special place in my heart

roommate!marauders is my drug <3 thanks for requesting hunny! fem!reader x roommate!marauders

cw: thunderstorms, poor boundaries with roommates

659 words

You didn’t realize the sheer volume of the downpour outside until the chatter of your roommates in the sitting room couldn’t be discerned over the pounding of raindrops reverberating off your window panes. You weren’t complaining, though. You were cozied under a multitude of soft blankets and fluffy pillows, your reading lamp emanating a soft glow onto the pages of your book, the smell of rain wafting into your room.

That was until your lights slowly flickered a few times, before shutting off completely, leaving you in pitch black darkness. This was shortly followed by a shrill scream, then a crash, making your drop your novel. You untangled yourself from your covers, setting your book back on the bed, before venturing out. You held your hands in front of you as you stumbled around in the dark. You felt around for your doorknob, swinging the door open. You didn’t make it far before you tumbled into a tall torso and lanky limbs.

“Shit, dove! Sorry! I didn’t see you there.” Remus blindly reached a hand out in an attempt to steady both of you.

“It’s okay! I think that only raccoons can see in these conditions.” You attempted to joke. He rewarded you with a small chuckle.

“Are you okay, though? You didn’t fall or anything?” You could hear the worry laced in his tone. It made your heart weirdly warm to know that he was concerned for you.

“No, I’m all good.” You reassured. “Are you okay? I heard a crash.” You stepped further into the living area, carefully watching your footing. Remus chuckled again.

“You wanna tell her what happened, lads?” His tone filled with unusual mirth. You could vaguely make out the forms of the other two boys in the dark. You heard Sirius grumble, though it was James who spoke up, much more timidly than typical.

“Well uh- we didn’t expect for the lights to go out, you know? Pads got a little spooked and screamed.” You could feel Remus shaking beside you with nearly-silent laughter. “And uh- Sirius spooked me, I guess. And then I dropped a plate.” He trailed off. Remus was now laughing loudly at his friends’ expense, but you could tell that there was no malice given or received between the boys, with them also joining in. You weren’t laughing, though. You resisted the urge to flounder over to James and check him for injuries.

“Are you okay? Did you hurt yourself?”

“No we’re okay, babydoll. It’s in the kitchen, we’ll worry about it later. Come over here, though. You’re gonna trip.” Sirius’ hand circled your arm gently, pulling you towards him and James. You weren’t sure what you were in risk of tripping over, but you let him maneuver you as he liked. You were startled by the sound of sparking, making you jump back into Sirius’ chest.

“Sorry, lovely. Candles.” James set the soft, flickering light onto the coffee table. Remus appeared right beside you again.

“You’re all jumpy, dove. Are you sure you’re okay?” Remus cooed as James lit another candle. You jumped again as another hand grazed your back.

“Y-yeah.” The dark was very unsettling. Purple light flashed through the house, quickly followed by a loud boom!

“EEK!” You weren’t the one who made the sound, but you were pulled onto the settee, tumbling on top of Sirius’ frame, face landing in his inky curls.

“Christ, Pads.” James flopped down next to your tangled forms. He pulled you off to settle you between him and the high-strung boy. “You’re gonna kill her before the lease is up.” Another wave of thunder clapped through the house, this time Sirius only flinched. James pulled you closer to him in response.

“Oi! I can’t help it. You know storms make me flighty.” He argued, wrapping an arm around your shoulders to pull you back against him. “It’s okay though, I’ve got this dolly to keep me safe.”

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colonelarr0w · 8 months ago

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"My love, mine all mine"

JJK Characters as oddly specific romantic scenarios.

Contains -> Satoru Gojo, Suguru Geto, Kento Nanami, Toji Fushiguro, Choso Kamo, Ryomen Sukuna, Hiromi Higuruma, Ino Takuma, Yuuji Itadori, Megumi Fushiguro

! PIECE BEGINS UNDERNEATH THE CUT !

SATORU GOJO as randomly giving flowers.

The action is unpredictable, unexpected — very similar to the unpredictable tendencies of the Special Grade. Gojo is never a one-trick pony, never does he want you to grow bored or tired of him (not that you ever will, obviously). Money did not matter to him, not when it came down to you. If a bouquet of flowers cost an arm and a leg, Gojo would gladly take a saw and get to work.

If he happens to see a bouquet of flowers that would just look gorgeous on your desk, he’s throwing various bills at the florist and beelining for where he knows you’ll be. Gojo loves you, which is absolutely not a secret to anyone around him, and him randomly going out of his way to buy you flowers only reminds you of that bursting love that he has for you … and only you. And maybe, just maybe, he'll leave a small handwritten note with a scrawled declaration of just how much you mean to him.

SUGURU GETO as admiring the rain.

How serene and tranquil it is to just admire nature’s tears with Geto. Neither of you have to say anything, not that you want to — lest you want the loving silence to be tainted with whispered words. You don’t mind the silence, and nor does he. It's comfortable, peaceful, and it allows you both to momentarily forget about the world that you lived in. Instead, you could bask in the warmth that Geto emanates, clinging to it like a moth would cling to a light that they found.

Geto’s arm is loosely draped over your waist, your side molding into his own like two pieces of a puzzle. Your head tucked against his shoulder, ears perked to listen to the rain’s gentle pattering. Geto’s fingers trace mindless shapes into your skin, content to sit in your presence. You carry with you a softness that Geto knew could never be replicated, reminding him that the things that have been done to him and by him are things long left in the past. For now, he could be Suguru – and he would only ever be Suguru around you.

KENTO NANAMI as tying untied shoelaces.

Late night walks where your shoes just won’t seem to cooperate. For as tight as the knots initially felt, they only loosened with each step you took. Even his steps had noticeably slowed to be in sync with your own, being sure to not accidentally leave you behind. Always attentive to you, reminding you that he loves you with a gentle squeeze to your fingers. The eyes behind his eyeglasses soften as you return his squeezes, but their softness is replaced then by a flicker of concern as you stumble, nearly rolling your ankle against the pavement.

And so he pauses your walk, releasing the gentle grip he has on your hand and touching his knee to the ground. Fingers loop through the undone laces, expertly knotting them before softened eyes flicker up to your own. Your cheeks flush at the sheer adoration that swims in his eyes, your gaze flickering away from his own as a mumbled thanks falls from your lips. But he does not miss the curl of your lips – wearing that sweet smile that Nanami wishes that he could forever commit to memory. Nanami imagines an alternate scenario from his position, one where he holds silver and slips it onto your finger. Eventually…

TOJI FUSHIGURO as late night drives.

With gentle music and the soft rumble of the engine, it’s no wonder that you feel so incredibly safe sitting in the passenger seat of Toji’s (Shiu’s) car. Your hand rests on the back of Toji’s, which lays against your thigh — squeezing every few seconds in a silent ‘I love you’. His declaration spoken in a language that only you understand, one crafted for you and one used only when you were around.

Your drives aren't known to have a set destination, just filled with senseless turns that never have a true end thought out. Many of them are silent, the car only filled with the sounds of your pre-prepared playlist of songs that both you and Toji enjoyed, but there are times where the car is filled with soft conversation recounting past experiences or simply reciting the day’s events. But one thing is for certain, only you could make the great Toji Fushiguro soft.

CHOSO as shared routines.

Your presence in Choso’s life has brought about notable changes to the course of his day — namely his routine and how he decides to spend the mornings and nights. What was once simply waking up and immediately moving about has now become remaining tangled in the sheets for five (sometimes ten) extra minutes. What was once a simple brushing of the teeth has now become a multi-step skincare routine and lengthy shower.

His day just wouldn’t be the same without your shoulder brushing against his own as you both cleaned your teeth. It wouldn’t be the same without you brushing through his hair and styling it for him with the gentlest of hands. His nights wouldn’t be the same without your body against his in the bath, sponge rubbing away the day’s tension. And it certainly wouldn’t be the same without you wrapped in his arms, gentle snores fanning against his neck as you doze off — wrapped in the comfort of his embrace.

RYOMEN SUKUNA as shared glances.

They say that the eyes are the true window into the soul, detailing the true feelings of what resides within and bringing it forth in a discreet, almost unknown, manner. Fleeting glances can speak the same amount as a full-length conversation. Softened irises can shine with love and narrowed pupils can convey rage equivalent to that of a freshly sharpened dagger. Sukuna’s eyes were no exception to the rule — the love he held for you couldn’t be hidden behind pointed glares, not when they softened immediately upon finding you.

The moment your eyes met his own, soft and gentle, something in him promptly melts. How funny that the King of Curses would find himself staring at you — a simple sorcerer — with crinkled eyes. Was he smiling? No, no he’d never admit to ever smiling, but the sight of you just brings one to his face so naturally. Your head turns so that your gaze meets his own, silently reading each other’s eyes before you smile at him. And though he wants so badly to scoff and turn the other way, for you … he returns it.

HIROMI HIGURUMA as being picked up from work.

It was no secret that there were creeps lining the streets of the city, prowling around underneath the cloak that night provided and waiting for the best opportunity to strike. Wandering around at night, while not inherently dangerous, did not sit well in the stomach of Hiromi. He knew that you were able to handle yourself well, you were no stranger to defending yourself in situations where you needed to – but he still could not quell the pit of worry that bubbled in the pit of his chest whenever you were kept late at your office.

And so, to keep a sound mind, Hiromi would wait outside the double doors of your office building, smiling against your hair as your body molds into his own. His nose nestles itself into your hair, inhaling the familiarity of your scent – a soft mixture of lavender and rose. The hug lasts for as long as you need it to, broken only when you decide to take a step back. The passenger side door to Hiromi's car is then opened for you, your hand is held as you step inside, and a kiss is pressed to your cheek all before the door shuts.

INO TAKUMA as sharing food.

Relationships are meant to be 50/50, an even split that ensures that one party does not contribute more or less to the relationship than the other. To say that Ino believes in balance in his relationship with you would be the understatement of the century – he never wants you to feel as if you're doing too much or that he's doing too little for you. Ino also believes very heavily in sharing everything with you; personal stories, clothes, drinks, and of course, food.

Never will he order the same thing as you, knowing that at one point or another, you'd try whatever snack or meal he had ordered for himself. Your eyes would flicker to his plate or to the ice cream in his hand, then to his eyes, silently asking permission. With a smile akin to that of a lovesick teenager, Ino extends whatever it is that he's eating to you, feeling his heart warm at the sound of your satisfied hum. You kiss his cheek in thanks before offering him whatever it was that you had ordered. Rinse and repeat, and suddenly you're both sharing two meals as opposed to enjoying one for yourself – and neither of you would change it for the world.

YUUJI ITADORI as stargazing.

Something about the silence that night provides paired with the gentle light that the stars in the night sky had always been so calming for you, always carrying with it a sense of serenity that could only be replicated by something as soft as a mother's love or a hug. And like a moth drawn to a light, you found yourself admiring those very stars every single night – now you had someone to share that peace with, someone to bask in the warm light that the stars provided.

Laid out over a blanket, two pairs of eyes watch the twinkling stars with a fascination only replicated by that of a child. For a moment the world is silent, filled only with the sounds of your breathing and Yuuji's. His hand is intwined with yours, thumb rubbing back and forth against the backs of your knuckles. Your cheek is against his shoulder, both your eyes and his shut in complete serenity. Those are the nights where you can just be children, as in reality, it is what you both are.

MEGUMI FUSHIGURO as interlocking pinkies.

Not everyone is affectionate, not everyone is able to easily convey their love through prolonged physical touches such as a hug or a passionate kiss. Certain love languages come easily to some people, but to others it may be a touch more difficult. Some convey it through words, others convey it through actions that are a little more hidden, secretive. Megumi, for as quiet as he is, falls into the secretive category when it comes to displaying his love for you.

He loves you, hell, he would devote himself to you entirely if given the chance, he just finds it a touch difficult to display that love for you through means of physical touch. That does not mean he won't hug you or indulge in your kisses, it just means that he may not be the one to initiate those actions. But there is an exception to this little rule, and that is the fact that Megumi will always link his pinkie with your own when walking on your side. The smile that worms its way onto his face the moment that his skin touches yours is missed by everyone, but never ever will it be missed by you – and to him, you are all that matters anyway.

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luxxid · 1 year ago

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precis – genshin men talking in their native language in bed. 16+ gentlemen – neuvillette (french), tartaglia (russian), diluc (german), al haitham (arabic) remonstrance – obv smut, 16+ , fingering, degrading in arabic (😃👍), i've linked the translations just click on em.

NEUVILLETTE x french.

"je t'aime mon amour." his hands find yours on the wrinkled sheets, fingers interlocked clinched as he plunged his hips against yours, his girth dragging over your velvety folds. slow and sensual were the two words you could use to describe how he made you feel right now. who knew the ludex of fontaine was so amorous?

"ne te cache pas de moi, ma belle sirène." he mumbled in a low growl, brushing away stray strands of hair present on your forehead while undulating his ambit into your glory. the only support you had were his ample muscles, which you held on to with every thrust.

every frown, every blissful sigh and every moan of his name a precious token of memory he cherishes. soft pants fall from his lips as he compels your legs to your chest in order to bury his length deeper. dithers and butterflies rafted in your stomach indicating your climax. your nails drew crescents into his toned back, engraving signs of pleasure into his back.

"je t'ai-t'aime." he groaned, broiling breath fanned over your lips, foreheads pressed against yours as he rolls his hips over your one last time before planting his seed deep inside your womb, unleashing a swarm of butterflies to uncoil the ribbon in your stomach. (oui oui baguette)

flopping down onto your chest, exhausted from your previous activities, his pristine hair covers most of your figure, his eyes array love, just love. soft kisses rain down on your neck, adorning many of the purple bruises he had marked before. his callused hands bedecked your waist, barely applying force as if you were made of glass. his girth was still buried into your heat, as if he didn't want to withdraw from the sedative serotonin.

"i love you too.."

TARTAGLIA x russian.

his arms slithered around your waist, his bistre hair splattered all around your shoulder as he latches onto your waist for support, his fingers dig up your ass, sculpting demilune shapes into the soft plush. he buckled his foot to grant him more leverage. your body weight was all amended to the male beneath you.

his soft groans vibrated in the stifling atmosphere, bobbing up and down on his stupefying dick. "ty menya tak khorosho prinimayesh, hm?" he breathed into your shoulder, his indurate hands restlessly tracing over your curves, bathing in the luxury of having you so close to him. your breasts quavering in front of him, a slinky smirk absconded over his face at seeing your zest plight.

your moans gradually started getting obstreperous, interminably quivering on his bulk. his hands pinned your ass, to the point it almost drew out blood, your whimpers and whine were like music to his ears. gosh, you made him feel so lascivious. his grip grew tighter, sending shivers of pleasure down your spine as he murmured words of syrupy desire. his touch was like a fire, and you found yourself not wanting it to end.

"blyat' ty idealna." he groused, his voice raspy and bare. his cobalt eyes gulled lust and fire, you never ceased trotting on his cock with abandon, your head thrown back in sheer pleasure, your body shaking with every thrust. his hands were on your hips, guiding your movements, and you could feel every inch of him inside you. you let out soft happy grumbles of frustration, not knowing what he meant but you were assured it meant nothing other than love. archons- every hit to your nerves felt like celestia.

a bluffing beam pressed into his ephebic face as his cock obscured deeper into your warmth. your lamentations and sobs made him even more accelerated his appetite to taste you. what felt like clustered pieces of wires were coming out of you, your eyes gaped as you held onto his toned muscles, occasionally gasping and whining. he threw his head back revelry, his load whirled inside your womb as you let out a silent cry in the release of awaited feelings.

"moya krasivaya devochka" he chuckled as he adaged your rollercoaster of emotions, gentling brushing his hands through your hair, the sly smirk still remained pictured on his lips.

DILUC x german.

"ich liebe dich" he spituated, his arms grasped your shoulders ever so softly, beads of sweat dropped down from his sweltering face. a weary smile was forced upon his face, occasionally fading due to how well you sucked him in. your hands run over your body from over your belly to your waist to your mounds grabbing them as he slows down the pace of his girth.

you moan out as he starts rutting into you at a fast pace. the carmine haired male groans, tightly holding your hips for leverage and fucking his cock in and out of you. you wrap your arms around his neck, burying your face into his shoulder. heat resides every corner of his body. he closes his eyes as he proceeds with his adoring actions.

"don't stop luc', don't stop" you whine, harshly tugging his hair while syncing with his body movements. a soft, hushed hum resonated from him. kisses ran down from your neck to your back. his incandescent hair ran down your chest, concealing it. fuck— you were so perfect. archons, everything about you was perfect.

the bed creaked along with his every action, his actions only bought pleasure- no pain whatsoever, your breaths and moans got faster and more louder. his girth hitting your g-spot more faster, the slapping of his balls against your warmth got faster and more searing before he finally releases his seed inside of you, as well as you cumming on his girth.

"i-ich liebe- dich" he scours, his arms still vested on top of your waist, all while his length is snuggled inside of your warmth. he sagged onto your chest, your heartbeat undulating against his own.

AL HAITHAM x arabic.

nirvana. the only word that you can use to describe how the akademiya's scribe made you feel right now. his fingers edged into your tepidity, ever so often toting more vastly. his digits were coated with your dowse, driblets of sweat coalesced on your forehead, though, the viridescent eyed male had no emotion, only pure amusement and lust in his orbs.

"waqihat qadhirat." he spat, his eyes darkening as he watched your contorting face, drool splattered all over your face, he stroked your clit with his thumb, impending his face closer to your warmth before proffering a prolonged lick to your folds, his soaked, acute tongue almost immediately earned a squalid moan from you, your eyes solidly sealed.

"haitham' more, please m-" a finger forcefully shoved down your mouth kept you silent."madha? turid almazida?" he nudged, a jiving grin swept across his face before diving into your toothsome. gosh, his tongue did wonders. his eyes averted to yours, breathing in your gaped expression, relishing in your fucked out face. his other callused hand held your waist steady, gripping it harshly to the point that his finger imprints were reflected onto your smooth flesh. pink and black scribbles clouded your eyes, fuck— you wanted more, way more, and he knew that damn well.

"ma bik habibi, turid almazida?" he inquired teasingly after taking a deepend lick of your delicacy, your grumbles and lewd mewls were like harmonic tunes. his sunken eyes glaring at your pitiful condition, a breathful chuckle escaped from his chapped lips. his tongue once more delved into your hole, in result of you gripping his pristine hair harshly, moaning and gasping at the assidissous revelry.

your heart fluttered in joyful anticipation, as you felt the knots untangle, your face betrayed a beaming smile occasionally faltering as he kept scouring your pussy inside out. the knurls and lumps soon came undone, squirting out your juices and sap onto his tongue, greedily licking it up. his lissom fingers still remained deep inside your delicacy.

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letorip · 8 months ago

Text

somethin’ stupid

“and then i go and spoil it all, by saying somethin’ stupid like ‘i love you’”

===+++===

pairing: wednesday addams x reader

summary: even knowing that your relationship with wednesday is one huge grey area, you can't help the words that come tumbling from your lips one night while on an expedition together.

warnings: blood, violent attack scene, angsty pining, mentions of sex, fear of the dark

word count: 4.2k

A/N: first post, kinda nervous. honestly pumped to start posting on here after being somewhat new to writing. will try my best not to suck.

===+++===

It’s only after you meet Wednesday Addams for the first time that you understand why storms are named after people.

In the near five months total she had been in your life, she had quickly climbed to the top priority, and you found yourself trapped in her rain bands, tugged under her dark, swelling tide and drawn to less direct ways.

Now and likely until the very end of time, you followed her through the forest, peeking around each passing tree and shining your flashlight into the dark. It was a knight's sword for you, and you held it like a weapon so as to ward off evil spirits or howling beasts. Only, half of the time it ended up being a squirrel.

It seemed antithetical, to walk into the pitch black forest that had killed several hikers and injured Eugene, -or more the big ass creature inside it had, but Wednesday had never cared much for what made sense, and you knew better than to argue with her.

The rain continued to fall around the both of you, splattering against the hood of your rain coat and rolling down your sputtering lips, tracing your nose on the way down. If Wednesday was at all affected by the rain, she hadn't let it show yet. Not that she let much show, that was.

You shivered from a sudden gust of cold, wet wind rushing over your knuckles from where they white-gripped the rubber wrapping of your flashlight. "Are we almost there yet?" You asked, squinting into the trees. "I have to get up early tomorrow."

There was no possible way Wednesday could know where she was going in the sheer amount of darkness fended off by a flimsy Acebeam, but she pushed through like she did. Maybe orienteering was just part of the outré magic she always carried with her, or at least that's what you figured it probably was. In another life she had been a cheerful girl scout, though you knew better than to suggest that aloud.

The same could not be said for you, who was an utter idiot about directions and probably would have driven off a cliff by now without the use of a GPS. Wednesday had once said you wouldn't be able to find your way out of a cardboard box, and offensively, she was probably right.

It didn't make sense why she chose you of all people to bring along, then. You had no special strength or sight, and virtually no knowledge on how to investigate a murder, especially the serial kind. The only ability you had allowed you to read thoughts and minds, though you never dared read Wednesday's, even when you itched to know what she was thinking.

Despite feeling more like an achor dragging her boat down, almost every evening, at around the same time after dark, she showed up on your doorstep to tug you off to some dangerous place.

Maybe you were secretly hoping for a reward of some sort. She often indulged you as such, lips like a heroin shot directly to your veins, powering you through the day as you watched the clock tick away into night anticipating the next rush. Enid was right. You were whipped for her.

"Your protesting doesn't make the journey any shorter," she replied, turning with the dark look that always lurked in the back of her eyes.

You knew the movements well: when she glared, her eyes lowered slightly and her mouth tensed. One could not help but watch in awe, storing the memory for later. Or, at least those ‘whipped’ for her couldn’t. She spun back around to face forward, your flashlight pointing over her shoulder into the brooding dark.

The rain only seemed to come down harder from there, punishing you both for slogging through the mushy leaves when sane people would be indoors. But Wednesday would not settle until she found Arcadia.

You cleared your throat, uneasy with the ensuing silence.

"Where are we even going, Wednesday? We've been walking forever," you said, looking down at the pale grey rocks as you stepped over them. You were grateful for being clever enough to remember hiking boots.

"We're finding evidence," she replied. "I was informed of a suspicious cave out in the forest, and-" Wednesday's words came rushing to a halt as her foot clipped the rock in front of her. She stumbled a bit, and you threw out an arm to her back, there if she needed something to steady herself on.

It was uncoordinated and it was clunky at best, and Wednesday was far from appreciative. She jolted back from your touch as if you had stung her, glaring as harsh as ever. "Sorry," you said. "I didn't want you to fall." The tips of your ears had begun to burn again, upon realising you were made the fool for another time in a row.

"You should have," said Wednesday, walking ahead. "It simulates dropping dead." Of course, on you, such a statement did not have the desired effect. Whereas most would have replied in shock or disgust, you laughed. Out loud, right at her. The gall. She whipped back to you, perplexed and annoyed by the noise. "Have something to share?"

You grinned. "You can act cool all you want, but if you had actually landed in the mud, you would have been pissed." Her expression went from glare to glower impressively quickly, though you took great glee in the fact she didn't try to dismiss it.

Anyone who had just met her would have been terrified, but you knew that look meant she hated just how much you were right. Wednesday's moody eyes lowered to your jacket, as if she was looking for an insult to sling in response.

"Why are you yellow?"

You blinked, then shrugged. "Because for someone so intelligent I'm the only one who remembered a raincoat."

"The beast will eat you wether you're rained on or not," she replied reasonably.

You blanched at this. It was apparent the possibility had never crossed your mind. "It eats people????"

Suddenly the darkness of the woods only seemed to worsen and the rain seemed to come down even harder, as if life was laughing at the terror it was causing. You had never been one for haunted houses, and you decided in that instant that this was far worse than any haunted house you had ever been to.

Wednesday shrugged, and you were far from put at ease by that. She glanced at you up through mischievous lashes, entirely knowing what she was doing and enjoying every sadistic moment of it.

"I suppose we may find out tonight. I should offer up you, the yellow highlighter, first. You have longer bones than I do, and I'm sure it would appreciate a snack, after-"

"Ha. Ha."

As surprising as was Wednesday's capacity to joke, you knew that's all it was. Such falsehoods could not be exposed to the public, and she would rather die than admit she cared for anyone. That was her secret. You knew to keep it well.

It had been weird to see Wednesday attempt comedy at first. Often times you still thought she may be dead serious. But on these nightly expeditions it seemed she could joke freely. Sometimes she kissed you freely. You just had to know she didn't do it for you. She told you constantly, just to be sure.

From in front, Wednesday trembled from a sudden angry breeze and you watched her, sighing and tugging off your raincoat. You tossed it over her shoulders wordlessly; Wednesday didn't acknowledge it either. She put one arm in, then another, but didn't pull the hood up, and you rolled your eyes. "Pull the hood up, Wednesday. Don't be stubborn."

"I'm fine," she shot back, tone sharp and piercing to any sort of armour you could have put up. But even that didn't make you buy it.

"Your hair is like, stuck to your forehead, Wednesday. Just pull up the hood part."

"I don't even want to be in this dreadful thing, why would I want more of it on me. It's yellow."

"It's keeping you warm."

"I'm allergic to colours."

"Well then I guess it's great you brought a black one- oh, wait! That's right! You didn't."

She blinked at you unappreciatively, but your unimpressed expression made her give in, and she begrudgingly did as she was told. With a hood now over her, shrouding her soft hair from the harsh rain, you felt a bit better about her being out in the cold. After a moment she grumbled, messing with the sleeves. "Why are your arms so freakishly long?"

You didn't answer, biting back a response that included the word 'short.' It would have been entirely unproductive and probably earned a rock thrown at your head. Instead, you focused on the small row of houses you could see on a road in the far distance.

Their windows were small, warm boxes in the dryness, as opposed to the pouring, angry storm only a heathen of some sort would be caught in. It looked the same as it had the week before when you had passed the same area with Wednesday, and you recognised the same lamp that sat in the same spot of the same window on the second floor. It hadn't moved even an inch and neither had the flowers in the pot sitting next to it.

You hummed, "I love streets like those. It looks so warm and comfortable. I could be out here forever and it would still be the same warm place."

"Poetic," Wednesday dryly replied. Poetry had never seemed to move her much, beyond the grim ones from Poe about death and despair. She had tried to teach you about it once, during an impromptu "study session," which was what Wednesday usually called hunting you down after class and sticking your head between her legs.

It was the very first time she had let you stick around after, and the more and more often she let it happen, the more you felt yourself allowing for false hopes. Of course, accusing her of growing fond was a way to end up in an early grave and you knew better.

It had been a whisper, really, what she said with your head resting on her stomach, arms against the skin of her thighs. You were both sweating, terribly so, and then came, "years of love have been forgotten, in the hatred of a minute." It was only a whisper, and you weren't even sure Wednesday had spoken it into existence. But you looked up, and she was staring down at you, eyes unreadable. Her mouth was tensed into a grimace; a symbol for words unsaid.

"What's that?" You asked, leaning your head back.

She had shook her head. "It's Poe. He founded the school."

"I know who Edgar Allan Poe is, Wednesday. I meant what you were saying."

She looked away to the window, like eye contact then would have doomed her. "I'm not sure." It was a lie, and you knew it, but you couldn’t scan Wednesday’s thoughts and it was the first time she had let you stay propped up against her. You knew better than to ruin that.

"Why do you like that kind of poetry, anyhow? It's awfully depressing."

"It's a reminder," she replied, eyes still away and tone flat. "You and I will be in the ground someday, or maybe I will be in the family crypt. 'As you are now, so once, was I.' And other such ruminations. Ashes to ashes, dust to dust." Her gaze sliced back to you, as if she were gaging your reaction. "Either way, we're doomed."

You hadn't known what she meant by that, and you still didn't know, walking through the forest. She spoke in riddles, and it was impossible to know if she wanted you to decipher them or leave them as they were. Her vagueness with emotions was her armour, maybe.

Wednesday was usually cold and efficient and exact, in a way you could appreciate. You were far warmer, and though you seemed to constantly trip over yourself, patiently waiting for any sort of warmth to be returned, she stayed with the same chill that kept you close enough to bring comfort to her fingers, but never close enough to make her melt.

"When we get there, I want you to stay outside and keep watch. Don't come inside with me, I want to look around alone. If you hear anything or any noise or thoughts over the rain, give me the signal I trained you on," said Wednesday, looking through the bowers and thread veins of roots so as not to trip again.

"You're not my boss, Wednesday, and I'm not your henchman," you said, the words spilling out in annoyance. You hated when she went into work mode. She looked over at you, eyes giving an intense challenge.

"What am I then?"

You rolled your eyes at this. "Like my hobby, at best." It wasn't true, and both of you knew it.

"Do you kiss and sleep with all your 'hobbies,' then?" Wednesday's eyes studied you.

"Maybe," you shrugged. "I don't really kiss and tell." Actually, you hadn't kissed anybody since she had made out with you two days prior, and you hadn't kissed somebody other than her since she had first kissed you two months ago.

You knew, though, that Wednesday had done similar peregrinations with the normie boy, Tyler, from town who worked at the Weathervane. Sometimes you wondered if she put her lips on his, too. Other times, you couldn't help wondering if either of you really mattered to her.

She had said no when you asked her that once before, but slow danced and made out with you immediately after answering, at the Rave'N, so your confusion was understandable. It was like she both hungered for you and hated you for it at the same time, and you knew getting thrown around like that wasn’t what you wanted. But if it gave you her, even for a brief moment, you were all too eager.

From behind the both of you, you heard a branch snap, spinning around as the rain poured. There was nothing visibly there; your stupid flashlight didn't reach out that far and no moving through the brush could be heard. "Did you hear that?" you said to Wednesday, freezing completely. She nodded, but did not seem phased even slightly, turning to watch your terror with an eyebrow raised.

“Likely an animal," said Wednesday.

You were still frozen to the spot, staring into the dark as fear screamed at you to run away. “Are you okay?” she asked, puzzled.

You shook your head, sticking your hand out towards her. “No.” It was a question that needn't be asked. Wednesday examined your fingers closely, like she was contemplating if it was a bad idea, but then grabbed your palm and held it tightly in hers, locking the digits in with her own and squeezing it gently. It was an immediate comfort and you unfroze, Wednesday pulling you into the dark.

===+++===

"Your obnoxious coat is warm...thank you." She seemed to spit the last part out with a bit of reluctance, but you appreciated it nevertheless. For around the last half mile, you had been getting rained on instead. Droplets dripped from your hair, rolling down your cheeks and over your lips before dribbling from your chin.

"You can keep it for a while. Until you get your own, I mean," you said, absentmindedly playing with the flashlight. You would rather die than admit you were nervous aloud. Luckily, it didn't seem you needed to.

She stopped short at your words, grabbing your collar roughly with her hand and balling it between her fingers. It was harsh and it was passionate, like Wednesday always seemed to be in flares. Her mouth crashed into yours, teeth clinking together, toes poking into the mushy ground so she could even reach your face.

Unfortunately, it was over as soon as it began, and she pulled away quickly, walking away and leaving you behind, panting awkwardly as your mind began to spin. She was all too much, everything about her. You couldn’t stop yourself. "I love you,” you blurted out.

From the way she whipped back to you, it hadn’t been nearly quiet enough. Silence seemed to echo through the clearing, even in the raging storm around that pounded into trees and pooled in mushy puddles. She stared at you, and all you could do was stare back. Wednesday stomped back over, cheeks red and dark eyes shining with an unusual capriciousness. “What?”

You shook your head. “Nothing. Talking to myself.”

But she didn’t believe you. In previous attempts by you to draw out any indication of her affections, she could blatantly ignore it or change the subject without answering. Now, she was frustrated by how you always wore your heart on your sleeve. And this time, how your words demanded she do the same.

“What did you say,” she demanded. “Tell me right now, or I’ll-“

“I said I love you, Wends,” you cut her off before she could make a threat. God, she stared. She stared and stared and stared at you with her eyes in the dark, looking like she would be the one to read your mind and not the other way around. The humidity of the rain was suffocating you, but the powerful wind filled your lungs with air again, in a vicious, heaving cycle.

She took a small step forward, tilting her head up at you like she was inspecting you up close. “You don’t mean what you say.”

"I really wish I didn't, but I absolutely do." Your tone burned with a relieving candor, and Wednesday's eyebrows furrowed, before she backed away again. Your flashlight turned towards the ground, lowering your face into shadow.

"I told you, I don't want anything more from you," she said. "You're spoiling what we already have." She seemed more agitated than anything, but you stood your ground.

"But I feel like there's more here, Wednesday. I know I'm not crazy, you can feel it too. So I don't know why you're being all tough, when I just want to take care of you. That's all I've ever wanted."

"Learn to want for something else then," she argued back. "We can't work, we won't, I-"

"Why?"

"I told you why," she replied, crossing her arms. "Years of love-"

"No no, none of that bullshit you know you want to confuse me with. Just lay it out, plain and simple."

She bit her mouth shut, then narrowed her eyes at you before giving a huff. "Have you been reading my thoughts?"

"What?" Your forehead creased into lines, staring at her intently. "You know I don't."

"I don't know if you're aware, but I see you, in my visions sometimes. I actually think about the same one often, when I'm with you."

"What am I doing, then?" You asked, feeling a sickness come to your stomach. You didn’t know what future event you would be up to, but you could guarantee Wednesday you would stop yourself from hurting her.

“You’re being killed. By the beast.”

“…Oh.”

“You’re running far away, being chased. I see you get tackled or hit, and you fall into the dirt. Then I see your face being slashed over and over again by a creature, and you appear to bleed out on the floor of a forest.”

“Wednesday, that won’t come true.” You tried to assure her, but a small hand came forward, covering your mouth, shushing you. The gentle palm pressed against your soaked lips, fingertips ghosting the lines of your cheeks.

“I would hate you for it, dying. What I hate even more is that your closeness to me is likely what causes this. I don’t love you, (Y/n). I can’t. Stop trying to make me. It’s only pitiful and painful for the both of us.”

You reached up for her hand, pulling it away. “But how do you know it’s definitely you that ruins it? What if it’s something else, or what if it’s you saying no?”

“Because as painful as it is, I’m certain I break your heart if I indulge you.”

“Wednesday,” your voice shook a bit. “You’re breaking my heart right now.”

“This,” she said, “This is why I cannot give you more than I already have. I’m not my parents, (Y/n). Can’t you just be happy with our current relationship? You always try to complicate things. Like a stupid little puppy.”

You took a step back like a wounded animal. “What? You’re being mean.”

“Maybe if I am it'll get through to you. We won’t work, and if we don’t try to make it work, I won’t end up breaking your heart, and you won’t run away.” Her speaking volume was getting louder now.

“That’s a stupid plan!” You said raising your voice.

“And you’re a fool!” She said back. “I’m trying to protect you and take what I can get at the same time."

"You're hurting me."

"You're hurting yourself. I keep pushing you away. Stop coming back."

You frowned, feeling your face grow hot. "I come back because I care, and I know you care too."

"Caring for you gets me nowhere. You're doomed, (Y/n). I'm trying to protect you, so do us both a favour and get as far away from me as possible. Don't let me pull you back."

"Wednesday, I-"

"Go, you idiot." You swallowed her words. She was still wearing your yellow raincoat, looking at you with the most steely expression you had ever seen. You stepped forward in silence, only the mushing of the leaves filling the space between you. You unwrapped the armband of the flashlight from around your wrist and extended it out to her.

"Here. For the cave." She blinked at you, then she took it. Without another word, you did as you were told, stepping off into the dark and pulling against the magnetic field. With your ability to break past her facades turned off, you couldn't see the deep regret that wormed its way into her stare, watching your back retreat into the tree line.

===+++===

It only took around five minutes for you to regret not having the flashlight. The storm had turned to complete and utter chaos, and you could hear thunder and lightning booming and cracking against the night sky. Everything was so much darker than before, and it seemed to grow up and out like a giant ladder, turning to shadow and fog a few feet in front of you.

Part of you was still mad at Wednesday. Knowing she was scared for you didn't make it any of an easier pill to swallow. Neither did knowing you would likely die soon.

The looming question still sat unanswered, weighing down the wrinkles of your brain and cozying up at the mantle of your thoughts. Would it be weeks? Months? If she never ended up catching it (though that was very unlikely) how many years would you have left?

From behind you, you heard a branch snap again. You spun, looking around. An animal maybe. Then, you heard footsteps. They were big, though not an animal. Maybe it was Wednesday. She wore thick shoes often, with heavy soles.

It was only with the sudden realisation that there was no flashlight with the figure coming towards you, that your eyes began to widen and a chill shot up your spine like a spooked animal. It only took the dropping of your telepathic cancelling to fully realise what was about to happen.

KILL. KILL. KILL.

The monster's thinking was thunderous and loud, and it reverberated within your skull as you turned to run. You stomped your foot into the swampy ground, running the fastest you felt you ever had. KILL. The forest seemed to blur, rushing past you as you fled through the trees and smacking at branches that sagged in your way.

KILL. You heard the footsteps now, coming up quickly. They sounded huge, and with every bound you could hear greenery get smushed behind you as the beast moved through it. KILL. You had no idea how close it was behind you, but there was no time to look either. In one rush, you found yourself back in a stoney quarry, and in the far distance illuminated a KILL. streetlight standing over a mountain road.

You ran towards it, face scratched by a branch in the process as you forgot to swipe it away. The wood KILL. connected with a stabbing pain, piercing your lip as you ran, but you didn't so much as wince. "HELP!" You yelled KILL. out, trying to catch any attention as you ran for the pavement, and you were almost there. KILL.

You were too slow. A set of long, pointy claws latched onto your back, sinking into the skin and ripping you down with a yelp, throwing you to the ground. Your back slid into the tree with a sickening crack, and pain seemed to freeze your body. KILL.

Standing over you was the muscular, horrifyingly disfigured body of a towering creature, its eyes shining with violent zeal. It lowered with a clicking growl, eyeing your heaving, bleeding body and sneering. KILL. KILL. KILL.

Your eyebrows furrowed, blood spilling from your lips. In a single instant, you knew who it was, digging past the monstrous yells to the real thoughts of the boy underneath. "Tyler?"

Its claws sunk into your stomach, and everything went dark.

===+++===

a/n: a part two maybe? idk, i'm no rocket scientist. anyways, this is my very first post, so, here we go i guess? excited to start this and grateful for anyone who reads this. i tried to spellcheck but if it isn't perfect please please please let me know, i would fix it immediately.

#wednesday addams x reader #jenna ortega x reader #wednesday x reader #wednesday addams #jenna ortega x you #wednesday netflix #jenna ortega

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