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overtail · 8 months ago

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Hey!! Loved your last Zuko smut it was so great! Could you please make another smut where zuko joins gaang but he isn’t fully trusted yet by everyone (except from reader who saw good in him from the beginning) so every night one person keeps an eye on him and when it was reader’s turn thing turned out spicy

I would like female reader who is flirty and teasing because she alert always found him attractive

It’s okay if you don’t want to write this I just saw you asked for requests

Thank you in advance<3

THANK U FOR REQUESTING MUAH MUAH

anyways id love to do that for you hehe :3

sorry if it took a while i was sick when i got the request 😔

got silly while writing this

...

I know you - Zuko x Reader🔞

Summary: She was from the fire nation, he was the heir of it. She grew up thrown to the side, not ever accepting her true powers. When her and the Gaang take in Zuko so he can teach Aang firebending, she trusts him more than the others.

Trigger Warning: NSFW, flirting, arguing, slight bottom Zuko, Semi-public sex, both reader and zuko are awkward turtle ducks

Reader Info: Firebender who can't bend, Female intended, headstrong, flirty

...

"I really don't want to supervise Zuko tonight." Sokka grumbled, pinching the bridge of his nose.

Ever since Zuko saved Aang and his friends from 'Combustion Man' or better known as 'Sparky Sparky Boom Man', nobody trusted him to sleep around them without supervision. Well, except (Y/N), but they thought she had some bias since he was fire nation.

Nobody had a single drop of respect for him. Even though he insisted that he, 'was good now', everyone believed he was a spy.

But nobody could blame them.

"I need my beauty sleep." Sokka mimicked a beauty guru as his hands framed his face. "The ladies appreciate a pretty boy."

Katara groaned, rolling her eyes. "It's your turn, Sokka." She crossed her arms, pursing her lips at him. "No one else is gonna-"

"I'll do it!" A voice quickly interrupted. Everyone turned to look at (Y/N), who was standing stiffly. She smiled awkwardly. She pinched at the hem of her pants, stepping forward. "I don't mind doing it.."

Sokka crossed his arms, raising a brow at (Y/N). Everyone was aware of the little 'crush' she had on Zuko. I mean, he was cute, he was angsty, and he was strong. Extremely short, but strong. She always took the chance to tease him.

"I mean, if you insist." Sokka walked away towards his tent, sighing softly in happiness. Rest was one of his most appreciated things in life - behind stuffing his face in food. Maybe it was because he liked the feeling of waking up in the morning, or the interesting dreams he had at night.

No one knew.

"Thanks, Sokka!" She said with a smile waving goodbye to him. "I-I mean, I'll do the job.."

As everyone headed off to their respective sleeping spots, (Y/N) listened to the quiet chirping of the crickets, looking up at the night sky as the stars glimmered. She considered whether or not she should g into Zuko's tent to check up on him (more like poke fun at him.)

While she ended an ear to the sound of the crackling flames coming from. the vampire, she heard the sound of shuffling coming from her left. (Y/N) glanced to the side, seeing Zuko climbing out from the flaps of his tent.

"Oh. Hi." He said awkwardly, holding his hand up in place of a wave. "What are you doing out here?" He questioned, wondering where Sokka was. Zuko was aware of the rotation for their watch party; Aang, Katara, Sokka, and then (Y/N). Toph didn't have the responsibility of watching Zuko since her feet were still injured from when he jumpscared him that night.

"Watching you." (Y/N) tried to play it cool, but a pool of desire filled her heart as she watched Zuko's dark hair fall in front of his amber eyes. He looked so pretty as the firelight shone on his pale skin. She started to grow pink under his gaze.

"Isn't it Sokka's turn?" Zuko stretched, his shirt lifting up to expose his stomach. (Y/N)'s eyes widened at the sight.

"Yeah, but he begged me to take his turn," She lied, rubbing the back of her neck. "he's awfully tired."

Zuko nodded. He began to walk over to the log (Y/N) was sat on. (Y/N) watched as he sat next to her, his pale fingers grazing the hard bark of the seat. It was extremely cold in the area, especially since they were in a semi-cave. After the failed invasion at the palace, they had begun to stay at the western air temple. The infrastructure was odd - upside building lining the roofs of the cave.

"I'm sure you won't mind hangin' out with me." She elbowed him, smirking. "Us being fire nation and all."

Zuko turned to look at her, a brown raised in confusion. "You're from the fire nation?" He asked, tilting his head. It was as if he was inspecting her. "You don't seem like it."

(Y/N) shrugged, glancing up at him. "Yeah. I mean, my family was banished when I was pretty young. But I'm still fire nation." She sighed, resting her chin on her hand, Her elbow dug into the skin of her knee, but she didn't mind. "Do you know Gender Jin?" She asked.

With a nod, Zuko said, "Yeah, why?"

Genera. Jin had been banished from the fire nation twelve years ago, whe Zuko was four. He had committed treason against Azulon, Zuko's grandfather, for having a child with a waterbender. Apparently, he was also accused of planning attacks on the fire nation with the northern water tribe during this time. It was never confirmed, but the speculation was brought up a whole lot.

"That's my Dad." (Y/N) said, sighing softly, Zuko let out a small 'oh', surprised at this.

"Are you-"

"The infamous forbidden child? Yep. Yes-sir-ee." (Y/N) interjected. She already knew what he was going to say. The word was passed around almost the whole world when it happened, since the fire nations grasp infiltrated every nation in some manner. She knew what her name was. She knew what people thought of her.

"The rumors of me being a firebender and a water bender aren't true." Zuko looked at her, surprised that she knew this. "I'm just a plain ole' firebender."

There was an awkward silence between the two. There was not much to say, at least off the top of their heads.

(Y/N) perked up, looking over at Zuko. "Do you think you could teach me some tricks?" She said excitedly. Zuko was caught of guard by this.

"Tricks? What do you mean?" He asked, wanting her to elaborate. He was looking for practice with a firebender lately, so this might be fun.

"Like, could you teach me?" (Y/N) looked away with an embarrassed face. Her father never told her firebending; he wanted her to live a normal life as a kid.

"You mean you don't know anything?" Zuko laughed in disbelief. "Anything at all?"

"Yeah.." (Y/N) grumbled, pursing her lips slightly. "I'm ashamed of it - I can admit it. But I wouldn't mind if you taught me some things." She wiggled her brows, smirking slightly as she glanced at him. Zuko flattened his lips.

"I mean, I don't have much to do." Zuko pushed off of the seat, leaning forward and standing up fully. He glanced down at (Y/N). He reached his hand out, offering it to her. "Come on."

...

They walked into a small clearing, the cold night wind blowing their hair back and forth. They had climbed above the cliff the western air temple hung from, where a large valley rested.

Zuko had removed the robe that hung over his clothes. His arms were exposed, small goosebumps lining his arms.

(Y/N)'s eyes graced his body, her face growing red from both the cold air and his body.

"Already undressing?" She teased, crossing her arms and grinning. "Take me out to dinner first."

Zuko glanced over to her, a frown appearing on his face. "W-what?" He said, shifting uncomfortably.

"I mean, I get that I'm the prettiest girl here - no offense to Katara." (Y/N) walked over, smirking. "but you barely know me Prince Zuko." She poked him on the chest jokingly. (Y/N) leaned on her legs her hip popping out.

Zuko huffed out a fiery breath (no pun intended), looking to the side. "Do you want to learn or not?"

(Y/N)'s eyes widened. She stepped back, nodding in agreement. "Yeah, yeah." She shook her arms nervously, stepping back and getting into a fighting stance.

"Fire bending is all about- what are you doing?" Zuko stopped mid sentence, looking at (Y/N).

"Uhm, getting into a stance?" She said awkwardly, looking to the ground.

"No, no. You're to open." Zuko stepped forward. He grabbed her wrists, pulling them down in front of her chest. "You're leaving your body open to hits." He walked behind her, putting his hands on her shoulders.

She shivered, the feeling of his fingers gracing her skin. (Y/N) leaned into the touch, his palms touching the lower part of her shoulders. "You opponents have the opportunity to knock you to the ground." Zuko placed his right foot on the inside of her legs. The toe of his shoe pressed against the heel of her foot, pushing it slightly.

"You want to be low.." He whispered into her neck, pushing her shoulders down so she was more level to the ground.

Was he doing this on purpose? (Y/N)'s heartbeat was audible in her ears, but she wasn't the only one who's blood was pumping from this interaction.

As she moved down her backside rubbed against Zuko's crotch lightly. He let out a small gasp, his eye twitching at the feeling.

(Y/N) smirked at the sound, realizing the affect she had on Zuko. What could she do with this? A lonely teenage boy? She was sure he wouldn't mind.

"Ope, sorry Zuko." She said slyly. She bent her knees even more, her ass pushing onto Zuko's growing erection.

Zuko shifted back uncomfortably, their contact breaking.

(Y/N) turned around, standing up fully. "Oh c'mon Zuko, i need you to show me how to do this." She smirked, her foot digging into the grass.

"I know what you're doing." Zuko said, his face growing red under the pale moonlight. His eyes scanned her, and unimpressed looked overcoming him.

"What am I doing?" She teased, a finger pressing onto Zuko's chest. "Tell me."

Zuko's face held a look of frustration. His eyes met hers, his eyebrows furrowing together. There was a hot tension between the two of them, healing the goosebumps on their skin from the cold night air.

The digit placed on his chest soon turned into (Y/N)'s entire hand. She took a step closer to him, causing Zuko to let out a shaky breath.

Even with her confidant pseudo, (Y/N)'s stomach was filled with a nervous sickness. She had no idea what she was doing - letting her desire lead her.

"You're trying to turn me on." Zuko muttered, keeping his voice low.

"It's working though, isn't it?" (Y/N) barked back.

Zuko's face flushed slightly, clearly caught off guard by your boldness. "I assure you, that wasn't my intention. Now if you'll excuse me..."

"No. Zuko, come on.." She said, a shaky breath huffing from my red nose. "Were so alike."

Zuko hesitated for a moment, his gaze flickering between you and the ground. "How so?"

"Were both refugees from a country that thrived on evil." Her arm traveled from his chest to his arm. (Y/N) watched as he flinched slightly. Her eyes made contact with his. "And you know what Sokka says about us behind our backs."

Zuko swallowed hard, his heart racing as he felt your touch. He knew what Sokka thought of them - that they were both damaged goods from a twisted world. Despite the danger and uncertainty, there was something undeniably compelling about this connection.

"I like you Zuko." She said, smiling softly. Her seductive shell cracked, shower her sweetness hidden inside.

Zuko looked into her eyes, feeling a familiar pain in his heart. Here was someone else who knew what it was like to be an outcast, to carry the burden of a nation's sins. "I like you too," he whispered, his voice barely audible.

"I trust you, too." She sighed, squeezing his arm gently. "They didn't trust me either at first."

Zuko's heart skipped a beat at her words. Trust was a rare and precious thing in their world, where betrayal lurked around every corner. But she was offering it to him freely, without judgment or fear. "Thank you," he breathed out softly.

She leaned forward, placing a soft peck on Zuko's lips. A warm feeling flooded through their bodies, the world around them feeling almost unrecognizable as they sat in the moment.

Zuko froze for a moment, shocked by the unexpected kiss. But as he felt her lips on his, he found himself responding, leaning in to deepen the kiss. The warmth spread through him, filling the cold void that had been there for so long.

She grabbed his face, bringing him down to kiss Zuko deeply. (Y/N) let out a huff from her nose, letting her fingers comb through Zuko's dark hair.

Zuko's hands found their way to her waist, pulling (Y/N) closer as he kissed her back with all the pent-up longing and desire that had been building inside him for so long.

As the kiss deepened, Zuko felt a fire ignite within him, burning away the coldness and isolation that had defined his life for so long. He wrapped his arms around (Y/N), pulling her closer still as he explored her mouth with his tongue, tasting her sweetness.

As she broke away from the kiss, their breaths mingled in the air between them. Zuko felt his heart racing, a wild and unfamiliar sensation.

Zuko looked into her eyes, seeing a reflection of his own turmoil and desire. He couldn't believe what was happening, but he didn't want it to stop. His hands roamed down her back, pulling her even closer as he whispered, "I need you."

"Show me." She whispered, leaning up to kiss him again.

Zuko dragged her onto the grass with him, never breaking the kiss.

Zuko pulled her onto his lap, cradling her body against his as he deepened the kiss once more. His hands trailed down (Y/N)'s sides, pushing up her shirt to reveal her soft skin beneath.

Feeling emboldened by her invitation and his own burning need, Zuko slid his hands underneath her shirt, tracing circles on her bare back. His lips moved hungrily against hers as he lost himself in the sensation of her skin against his fingertips.

Zuko's hands continued their exploration, moving lower to grasp her hips as he pulled her even closer. He could feel the heat between her legs, and it fueled his desire even more.

With a groan, Zuko slipped his hand beneath her shorts, feeling the softness of her thighs and the wetness between them. He couldn't believe how much he wanted her, how badly he needed to be inside (Y/N).

"Shit, Zuko.." She said between heated kisses, fingers pulling at his soft hair.

Zuko growled against her lips as he continued to touch her, his other hand sliding up (Y/N)'s leg to knead at her ass cheek. He could feel himself growing hard against her leg and he knew he had to have her soon.

"This isn't how I expected this night to go." She played with Zuko, his lips connecting with the soft skin of her neck.

Zuko chuckled breathlessly, his lips trailing down her neck to nibble at her collarbone. "Neither did I," he admitted, his voice husky with desire.

"Is this how you practice back home?" (Y/N) said, her feet digging in the dirt behind Zuko.

Zuko laughed softly against her skin. "No," he replied, his voice still rough with lust. "But I think I'd like to make it a regular practice here."

(Y/N) moaned slightly when Zuko's hips bucked into hers. "Ill watch over you more often then."

Zuko's eyes darkened with desire as he heard her words, and he couldn't resist bucking his hips against hers a little harder. "I'd like that," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

As she pulled back a little, Zuko took the opportunity to stand up, his hands sliding up her back to grip your shoulders. He looked down at her with an intense gaze, his eyes full of the burning passion that had overtaken him. "Take me to your bed,"

"We can't. We'll wake the others." She smirked, grabbing onto Zuko's wrist.

A growl rumbled in Zuko's chest at the reminder of their surroundings. But he knew she was right. Reluctantly, he nodded. "Then we'll make do with this," he said, reaching down to scoop (Y/N) up in his arms.

Zuko's heart was racing as he carried you deep into the nearby forest, away from the edge of the cliff. "To a quiet spot," he replied, his voice low and gravelly with desire. "A place where we can be even more alone."

He came to a small clearing where the trees thinned out, revealing a bed of soft moss and leaves. Gently, he lowered (Y/N) down onto it, his hands lingering on her hips for a moment before he joined her, pressing his body against hers.

(Y/N) pulled down her shorts and underwear, the cold hair hitting her exposed sex.

"Just get on with it, Zuko." She groaned, rolling her eyes.

Zuko chuckled softly against your lips before pulling back slightly to give you a teasing grin. "Always so impatient," he teased as he slowly unbuttoned his pants, sliding down his pants along with his boxers. He sprang free, a bead of pre-cum on his tip.

"Spirits.." She whispered at the sight of him, how he was throbbing at the sight of her.

Zuko's gaze locked onto yours as he positioned himself between her legs, his hard length rubbing against her slick entrance. "You ready for me?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

"You tell me."

With a groan, Zuko pushed forward, slowly entering (Y/N). Her tight heat enveloped him, and he fought the urge to slam all the way inside. Instead, he began to move in and out of her slowly, enjoying the sensation of being joined with her.

(Y/N)'s hands found their way to his chest, and she leaned into him, moaning softly. The feeling of being filled by him was indescribable, and as he picked up speed, driving deeper inside her with each thrust, she felt herself getting closer to the edge.

She could feel Zuko's muscles tensing as he neared his climax, his thrusts becoming more erratic and forceful. His other hand found its way to her clit, massaging it gently as he continued to pound into her. "I'm close."

"Already?" She teased, trying to maintain a sarcastic demeaner as she let out erratic moans.

With a chuckle, Zuko leaned down to kiss her again as he pulled almost all the way out of her before slamming back in. "You like that?" he asked breathlessly.

She screamed, her nails scratching at Zuko's back until white marks appeared - lighter than his skin.

Feeling her nails dig into his skin, Zuko lost control completely. With a primal growl, he pushed her down onto the ground and continued to pound into her, taking what he wanted with no regard for her comfort or pleasure.

He was like a rabid animal, like this was the thing he needed to live.

Her screams of pleasure and pain echoed through the forest as Zuko continued to take her roughly, losing himself in the sensation of being inside her. He could feel his release building, and he knew he wouldn't be able to hold out much longer.

"Zuko!" She clenched around him, being pulled over the edge as she shook. Her orgasm washed over her, (Y/N)'s eyes clenching tightly.

Feeling her walls clenching around him, Zuko let out a guttural moan as he emptied himself inside her. His thrusts became erratic and forceful, his body shaking with the intensity of his orgasm.

Finally, Zuko's movements slowed down, and he collapsed beside her, panting heavily. His heartbeat slowly returned to normal as he nuzzled into her neck, still inside her. "That was... intense," he whispered against her skin.

"Ya think?" Her chest rose up and down as she still huffed. (Y/N) tried to catch her breath, but she was sweating from the intensity.

Zuko chuckled softly, feeling his cock twitch inside her. "I think," he said with a smirk. After a few moments, he pulled out of her and rolled onto his side, still panting heavily. "So... how do you feel?"

(Y/N) faked a deep thought for a moment, looking away from him. "Eh. It was fine." She smirked at him, causing Zuko to roll his eyes.

"So.. you were scratching at my back because you hated it so much?" He played, kissing her neck softly.

"For sure." She sighed, playing with his hair.

The two teens lay there, panting heavily as the moonlight illuminated their skin. Their bodies were tangled but not in a hurry to separate. Despite the awkwardness of the situation, their need for each other overruled everything. They could return in the morning, nobody would notice - right?

...

#avatar the last airbender #fandom #fanfic #smut #zuko x reader #atla zuko #prince zuko #zuko #training

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diejager · 8 months ago

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just thought of something really funny for the monster cod au. what if reader has a small emotional support dog, and reader is just kissing, cuddling and saying “i love you”s to the dog. do you think the animal hybrids would get jealous of the dog bc of their animal instincts?

Cw: jealousy, tell me if I missed any.

You came with a K9, a big Shepherd and collie mix that you took in after you completed you medic training, a little friend you trained and spent your time with. You two were a package deal, the Task Force wouldn’t have you without Milo, and vice versa. You were assured by Laswell that they didn’t mind K9s in the TF, it was a welcome sight to have an actual dog rather than a hybrid or monster. You took it with stride, Milo by your side at all times and they were never bothered by it, how protective he was of you and how much attention you gave him, but you hadn’t expected to see some grow… jealous of Milo.

You watched Soap and König especially turn green with envy, their burning glare shot towards you fury friend when you kissed his nose and praised him for being such a good boy. He truly was, your loyal and affectionate companion that you nurtured since he was a pup, fighting side by side with you when you were on the field. Soap - sweet Johnny - would shift more often, throwing himself at you whenever you were walking Milo. Rather than simply walking a dog, you walked a dog and a werewolf, a jealous and drooling werewolf that kept rubbing his side against yours, panting and growling out words that you didn’t understand. It was hilarious, seeing how jealousy made Johnny act, his tongue lolling out to lick over your cheek, demanding kisses and praises with his wide and gleaming eyes after you gave them to Milo.

König was as unsubtle about it as Soap was, voicing his envy with nonverbal cues for affection. He would trail behind you, his broad figure so quiet, and tugged at your shirt, mumbling incoherent words until you gave him you attention. He’d stare you down, fluttering his lashes for compliments, whether they were teasing ones or loving ones, he took all and anything you gave him. It was rather… König was less eager than Soap was with praises, but he was more stubborn with it, silent demands and needs for the occasional praise or words of affirmation that you still loved him.

Ghost and Horangi never showed a sign of discontent about the amount of love you gave Milo, but they did towards Soap and König’s unabashed need for it, some slight disgust and growls, snarling at the other for something you truly didn’t understand. Price and Alejandro were… they found enjoyment in your sticky situation, you caught them throwing you a mean grin when you passed them with either Soap, König or both of them stalking behind you. You remembered them calling Soap and König lost pups with heart eyes.

Then there was Gaz and Rudy, godsends, the gentle but logical figures of the team, they would step in to redirect Soap or König’s attention towards them to let you go about your day. If Johnny followed you around, a big wolf drooling all over the floor, scaring others away, Rudy would send his cadejos to herd the big wolf back. If König became your third shadow, his giant figure looming over you and making everyone hesitant to seek your help when they needed needed it, Gaz was there to offer to cuddle up in the couch and let König run his fingers through his wings.

Taglist: @craxy-person @crowbird @dead-cipher @iwannabealocalcryptid @iizx7y @mxtokko @capricorn-anon @perfectus-in-morte @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @bvxygriimes @distracteddragoness @konigsblog @angelcakes-22 @cassiecasluciluce @ramadiiiisme @ramblingsofachaoticthinker @im-making-an-effort @love-dove-noora @jinxxangel13 @daisychainsinknots @h0n3y-l3m0n05 @mul-pi @danielle143 @beau-min @makayla-666 @urfavsunkissedleo @notspiders @brokenpieces-72 @luvecarson @petwifed @randominstake @heartelysia @jggykhug09090 @cassiecasluciluce @hayleybarnesx @shironasumi @sparky--bunny @bloobewy @call-me-nyxx @sans-chara @infpt-zylith @sweetnanah @aldis-nuts @thigh-o-saur @evolutionarry @kaoyamamegami

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coupleoffanfics · 10 months ago

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teehee I have a small thought (batfam related, yk that one where y/n gets killed)

imagine if y/n was brought back by the pit, but instead of being a "shell" in that hc u made, she becomes completely stoic, like just blurts out what she was feeling back when she was neglected with the most blank expression ever, I imagine it being more focused on bruce and Damian since yk..bruce was the shittiest parent ever, and Damian with his sparky ass insults.

You…God, damnit Anon. You summoned me and I suddenly have the motivation to write after reading your two requests.

I don't know if you wanted a one-shot or HC. So I just went with a HC because it's much easier to push out. Though if you want me to make a one-shot feel free to ask. I'll take 7 years to write it. Though at the end I did sort of a one-shot.

Damian should have known something was wrong when y/n didn't start thrashing around and attacking anything that moved after crawling out of the pit. She just stared at her hands, clenching them into firsts and then unclenching them slowly.

Maybe Damian was too relieved to see y/n breathing and moving to really care. Maybe he thought that she was just in shock. Coming back to life isn't always expected and it can take a real toll on someone.

Not to mention that y/n was, compared to her brothers, far weaker. Not just physically, but mentally as well. So it's not surprising that she was so docile, right? It's only a matter of time before that effect wears off and she'll be normal. Or something close to normal.

Okay, maybe deep down Damian knew that there was a chance that he wasn't getting y/n back. Everyone knew that there was no getting her back, but he was willing to take the risk. He came this far and it didn't take long for Bruce to pick up on what his youngest was doing.

Damian has his big sister back and he's not going to let her go again. It's only a matter of hours before Bruce comes breaking down the door to drag them back to Gotham. So Damian took the time to clean up y/n.

She was still in her funeral clothes for goodness sake. She reeked of death, but that didn't stop the boy from hugging her tightly.

While getting cleaned up, she doesn't say a thing. Or even make a lot of noise. It was almost like she was still dead.

By the time Bruce gets there, he's not surprised by Damian's actions. He thought of doing the same thing, but he couldn't bring himself to do such a thing. He couldn't disrespect her life by bringing her back. How could he dare think of that when she looked so at peace when she died.

He remembers how her body was tense before it became horrifyingly relaxed. There was a fear of death in those [eye color] eyes, he knows because he saw it. But it was so quick and fleeting that he could have missed it if he wasn't so close.

In a twisted way he wished y/n had clung on to him just like she did when she was a wide eyed little girl and cried. Cry that she didn't want to die. Cry that it was too early to leave now. Cry that she didn't want to leave them.

But all she did was give a crooked smile and mumble to herself as blood dribbled down her chin. She spoke incoherent things to herself. A name or two slipped from her cold lips, but they weren't ones of her family. From what he gathered it was just a close friend and her significant other's name. She died thinking of those who cared and loved her back. Not of the family that she couldn't stand to be around.

Even when her own adopted father held her dying from close, they were far from her line of thought.

So seeing y/n alive was gut reaching for Bruce. There was no pain, anger, sadness, or joy on her face. She was just there. Staring at him with an uncomfortable indifference.

Damian was ready to start a fight with Bruce. Not a physical one, but he would cross that line if he needed to. He was ready to defend himself in what he thought was best for y/n. Yet Bruce lets out a quiet sigh and tells that it's time to come home. How anticlimactic.

The plane ride back to Gotham is long and quiet. It also felt cramped by how close Damian was to y/n and unwilling to give her too much space.

By the time they made it back to the manor, everyone was caught up to date. The development is surprising to some while others not so much.

Everyone is in the bat cave. Gathered around to see y/n back from the dead. The silence is deafening as they wait for something. Just something from her, but she walked past them all. Out of the cave and to where her room was. Nothing was out of place in her room, though it was mostly empty after she had moved out a few years ago. She laid on her bed and slept as if nothing was amiss.

That's where the family infighting starts. Question of was this the right thing. What are going to do now? Why the hell did you think this was a good idea? There's going to be a lot of hash words being shared, but at the end of the day what was done was done and they had y/n back. They weren't going to mess up the second time.

Did they really get a second chance because it didn't feel like it. A week would pass and y/n has yet to come out of her room. She's alive and breathing because the trays of food left outside her door are always empty.

The camera's installed while she slept showed that she was doing nothing. All she did was lay in bed. She'd get up to use her private bathroom, but other than that there wasn't much. She was rotting away alone in her room.

This rang familiar bells in Alfred, Bruce, and Tim's head. y/n wasn't prone to long depressive episodes, so this could be something similar. The lack of socializing and excessive oversleeping was typically a big red sign for them to do something. In the past they would not force, but push her into doing social things or at least being out of her room.

They could approach this situation the same way, but they'd have to be extra careful. This was a unique and tricky situation to be in. It was also odd if not worrying that she hasn't succumbed to lazarus fever.

They could try to bribe y/n out of her room with activities that have to do with her old hobbies.

"Alfred is baking today, he said might need some help."

"I just stole the keys to the batmobile, you wanna take it for a ride?"

"Hey, do you want to…um, play a video game with me. I remember we used to play Hellflight Deadcraze a lot. They came out with the 3rd game. I just bought it today, so...Yeah."

Though the likelihood of that working is low. If they're really desperate to interact with her, they might as well just bust down her door.

At some point all the poking and prodding is going to irritate y/n. Whoever popped her bubble is going to be on the receiving end of pent up emotions.

I don't believe y/n would ever intentionally say how much the family's treatment harmed her. Again it would bubble up and fester for a while before she explodes. The thing about y/n is that she has an inferiority complex. In her life she aimed to please and help.

She understands that Gotham is dangerous. A lot of people need help and she couldn't bring herself to pull them away from their job. To her it would be like pulling a fireman away from a fire to chat as people burned alive. Even if the fire was out the fireman would be tired and need to rest, so she couldn't just pull them wherever she wanted to go. She shouldn't pester them.

In y/n's eyes, she was never worthy of being a hero because she wasn't good enough. She was never worthy of being with the family because she wasn't helping enough. She should do this to prove her worth. She's not worthless because she can do this for you and this as well!

She embodies inferiority and self-loathing. Someone that feels insignificant and has the strong urge to do more. She has- or had in this situation, hope. Hope that she'll be worthy of love. Love, affection, praise is what drives her and will seek it out if she's desperate. If she does ask or seek it out she'll be feeling guilty since she didn't really do anything to get it. In her mind she was being greedy and she couldn't help herself.

Bonus

"Just stop. Leave me alone." Her voice was almost pleading as she gripped the wrapped gift box. The gift was a symbol of peace, almost a treaty. That's all it was supposed to be, but she acts as if she had been spat in the eye.

Seeing that Bruce wasn't listening to her, she dug her nails into the gift. Almost tearing into the [favorite color] wrapped paper. He stood before her like an unmoving entity. The longer he stood by the more she wanted to snap into herself. She didn't want to slowly curl into a ball. She wanted to snap herself together with a violent and almost sickening crack. This just wasn't fair.

Clenching her jaw, her voice became much colder. It wasn't as cold as the middle of winter, yet it still had a chill to it.

"I thought you'd get it that I didn't want this. I shut you out, but you- all of you just keep buzzing. None of you are getting the hint. You just keep coming back louder than before. Why can't you let me be alone? Why can't you act overworked and tired? Why can't you just leave things the way they were?"

Bruce was conflicted upon hearing her say that and would try to claim that everything is going to come around. Everything always comes around in the end and this wouldn't be any different. They are going to get through this as a family.

y/n's frown would deepen and her eyes would furrow at his attempt at comfort. She looks as if she just ate something that was expired, leaving her mouth with nothing but a nasty sour taste.

"Because we're family." She whispered to herself before almost grimacing at the words. Her voice became sharp and cold as a blade, "I don't understand why you'd suggest that I was still a part of the family. I don't think I've been family for a good while now."

She clicked her tongue as she dropped the gift box while looking Bruce in the eyes. "Come on, you can't say you cared about me after I stopped being useful. When did you realize that I wasn't anything special? Was it when I kept crying about punching villains or when I was too slow to teach."

Seeing the conflicted look in his blue eyes confused her. Why would the truth conflict someone unless it was pity. Even after all this she's just a pitiful little crybaby to him. One good hit and she's out wailing on the floor for someone to kiss her boo-boo away.

Somehow this hurt her. Her pounding heart felt like it was twisting on itself. She wanted to cry and laugh at how she thought things couldn't get any worse. Then somehow it did. The universe, the world, the Wayne had proved her wrong yet again. It was as funny as it was sad.

She could have broken down there, but she needed to hear it. She had to hear the truth, so she kept twisting her heart with her own hands. It didn't matter how much it hurt.

"Or maybe you were in denial? You had wasted a lot of time and resources on a dud. Then Damian threw cold water on you and left you shivering, right? I'm just leeching off of you and the others. Then…Then you choose them over me. I was an afterthought, or is that being too generous? Did I ever circulate in your mind before this?"

Her voice was becoming shrill and gruff like she was on the verge of tears. "When did you realize that I was dead weight, Batman? Did I make Bruce Wayne look more caring to the people when I talk about how much I love my family? Did my life serve any use or was I always just a speck of dirt on your shoes?"

Those words were far from the truth, yet with how she spoke Bruce knew that she believed in all that she was saying. Each and every word was true to her. Honestly he didn't know what to say. This was all too much. Having to hear your own child degrade themselves with such honesty was heartbreaking.

Taking his silence as a sort of confirmation, y/n ordered him to leave and of course he did. He'd fix this somehow. He just needed time. They needed time.

I cut off the ending because I didn't want to write too much. Anyway I hope you enjoyed it. I haven't proofread this, Google Doc says there aren't any errors (probably a lie), and it's 3 in the morning. Goodnight.

#batfamily x batsis #batfamily x reader #batsis reader #yandere batfam #God damn you anon #you beautiful bastard #I'll clean this up later when I sleep #x reader #x batsis reader

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imnotasuperhero · 4 months ago

Text

To follow the compass (that beats in our chests)

Wanda Maximoff x Reader.

A/N: Hello buddies. I honestly don't know how to define this, so let's say it's just an idea I developed in different chunks of free time I had and I decided to just put it out in the open and see if it was good enough considering the astronomical hiatus I've took. This was not proofread.

Let me know your thoughts!

Sipping on the hot, bitter coffee, you relaxed on the park bench enjoying the calmness of the Saturday morning, forcing your mind to stop thinking about the stressful streak you’ve been having for the last few weeks.

And the smile on your lips grew at the realization the cutest puppy came barking and wagging its tail, sitting at your feet as if it was your own.

“Hi, buddy!” You giggled as you scratched on its fur. “Yeah, you’re a good puppy, aren’t you?”

“Sparky!” A nervous voice called and you couldn’t help the chilling wave running down your spine.

Looking up, you saw the most beautiful woman ever, walking rapidly to you, “Come here, boy,” she kept calling unsuccessfully.

“It’s okay,” you kept on your smile when she was in hearing range while you kept on petting her dog, as if trying to calm her.

“I’m so sorry, he never sprints at strangers. I don’t know what-”

“Hey,” you stood up and placed a hand on her shoulder. “It’s okay, really.” You guided her to sit on the bench, worried about her state.

Inhaling deeply, her green eyes stared at you with some spark you couldn’t decipher. “I’m sorry.”

“No need to be,” you smiled kindly, sitting by her side. “I’m Y/N,”

“Wanda,” she nodded curtly, her attention on the dog sitting between you two, looking back with curiosity. But before you could comment on some random thing to say, her grunt called your attention.

“Are you okay?” Your attention focused on the woman beside you.

“I'm fine… it's just a small kick,” she rubbed her protruding belly.

“Oh,” you realized just now she was pregnant. “How far are you?”

“It's pretty early. About to enter the sixth month,” she smiled softly and you could feel her beautiful smile being tattooed on your soul.

“Do you have a name, yet?” You asked curiously.

“I just found out it's a boy on Wednesday, so I still have to decide on a few,”

“There you two are!” a familiar voice made your words die on your lips.

“Pietro?” You stood up with your smile growing its size.

“Hey, Y/N!” The blonde man smiled equally excited as he hugged you tightly.

“Now I know why he seemed so familiar,” you looked at the dog at Pietro’s feet requesting to be petted.

“Now I know why he ran to you out of nowhere,” Wanda chimed in, taking one of the two cups Pietro had. “Thank you,”

Winking at the brunette, Pietro turned his attention to you. “Glad to see you’re feeling better,” his smile never left his face. “I miss you at work,”

“Oh, I bet it’s torture,” you giggled, rolling your eyes.

“It’s true! George is just… too much.”

“Poor Pietro, he can’t manage a teenager,” you mocked him. “I’ll be back on Monday.” You assured.

“But what he can manage is finding a new place for his sister to move into.” The blonde stated with a cheeky smile.

“Wait, what?” Wanda frowned at her brother as if had grown two heads.

“Well, it’s simple math! You’re still looking for a roommate, right?” Pietro looked at you expectantly, waiting for your confirmation. “And you can’t handle living with me anymore. Ouch, by the way,” he turned to his sister. “That means you can move in with-”

“Does she even want me to move in?” Wanda interrupted her brother’s rant, and you felt the pressure as two pairs of eyes set on you.

“As long as you don’t smoke and keep at least the common areas tidy-”

“YES! She accepts the deal.” Pietro grabbed your hand and shook it as if it was a deal.

“There’s a problem, though.” Wanda looked down to where her hand was placed on her belly bump.

“I’m not new to babies. It’s okay by me,” you shrugged and couldn’t help the heat on your face as those green eyes shone with something warm.

That’s how the very next night, you’ve found yourself sliding in bed after a well deserved hot shower, for all the hard work you’ve done helping Wanda move into the empty spare room in your apartment.

But just as you were about to drift into sleep, a chocked scream washed away every bit of sleep you’ve collected through the day.

“Wands?” You entered her dark room, setting your eyes on the sitting form on the bed. Her soft features illuminated by the moonlight.

“I’m sorry I woke you,” she sighed.

“No need to,” you sat beside her on the bed. “Can I help you with something?”

At the tension levitating in the air, you insisted.

“I know I’m a grown up mother-to-be. But can you stay?”

Getting under the covers, you opened your arms waiting.

“What happens in this room stays in this room,” the brunette joked as she settled half on top of you, and you couldn’t help the soft smile as you felt the extra weight on your side.

“Deal,” you refrained from kissing her head, wrapping your arm around her shoulders instead, allowing sleep to take over you once and for all.

Days and weeks passed, you’ve found yourself enjoying Wanda’s presence around you when neither of you were at work. Even more so when she took over dinner claiming she needed to destress from whatever case she had that day.

But for the last 4 days, Wanda had been assigned the night shift as she had to cover for a colleague and you sank deeper on the couch at the realization that hit you like a train.

So after a few minutes of wallowing in the newfound feeling, you stood up and walked to the kitchen, checking on the food cooking on the stove.

Inhaling the warm smell you felt your chest inflate with joy. “Yummy,” you smiled as you grabbed the wooden spoon and stirred before tasting the stew. “Double yum.”

Moving to the cupboard you took a plate and stared at it for a second too long, deciding to grab two small containers instead.

As the floor-to-ceiling doors closed behind you, you granted yourself a few seconds to calm down, unbelieving the impulse that brought you here.

“Hi,” you greeted the first nurse you’ve found after the receptionist indicated where the pediatric floor was.

“Hello darling,” the nice old lady smiled at you. “How may I help you?”

“I’m looking for Dr. Maximoff, please.”

After checking on the screen, the big brown eyes looked back at you with a compassionate look. “She’s in surgery right now, but should be done in any minute.”

“Oh, okay. I’ll wait for her,” you faked your best smile, not being a fan of hospitals.

But before you could end up walking away from the stress the place provided you, a tap on your shoulder called your attention.

“Hi,” you smiled brightly as you took off your earphones.

“Hello yourself,” the brunette matched your smile. “What are you doing here?”

“I brought us dinner.”

“Oh, my. You’re the best,” Wanda’s arms wrapped around you and you felt the familiar warmth you’ve got used to. “I definitely need something after that O.R.”

“Was it an emergency?” You asked, following her to what you assumed was the common room.

“Sadly, yes.” Wanda took two water bottles before sitting down at the table. “Remember the girl I told you about yesterday?”

“The one with heart failure?” You took the containers and opened them, filling the room with the warm tasty smell.

“Oh, lord. Looks so good,” Wanda took a bite and smiled. “It is good,” she nodded to herself and you couldn’t help the giggles. “But yes, that one. Turns out she had a clog on her aorta so we had to operate.”

“Poor thing,” you pouted, it was sad to hear some of Wanda’s patients’ medical records. “So now her heart surgery has to wait.”

“At least another day, yes.” She took a mouthful. “What brought you here? And with food?”

“The apartment felt empty and I was bored,” you shrugged nonchalantly.

“You sure it's not the fact you miss me?” Wanda raised her eyebrow.

“Ehh, that’s just details.” You waved it off.

“And here I thought I was special,” the brunette pouted, making you purse your lips to avoid you from smiling.

The next few minutes were spent in a comfortable silence, which wasn’t strange to you both since you easily found quite the comfort in the other’s company. But that bubble popped when Wanda’s pager rang with a nine-eleven call.

“I’m so sorry, Detka.”

“No, don’t worry, duty calls.” You eased her as you took her hands from the picked up forks. “I’ve got it. You go save lives and I’ll see you at home,”

“I’ll make it up to you,” she pecked your lips and stormed off the room, leaving you frozen.

Caressing your lips, you tried to process the day’s unfolding. Where did that come from? Was it just a reflex or was it something she’s wanted to do willingly?

All these questions ran through your mind, slowly indulging the feeling that was hidden in a box, burning madly like a flame that could consume the restraints in any minute. And to be honest, it didn’t scare you, because if anything, all the pent up tension meant there was more in store for you and Wanda than just be friends.

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x fem!reader #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff x y/n #my writing #probs a series or somth #vee writes

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thewintersoldierdisaster · 7 months ago

Text

a/n: i am so proud of the boys and what they accomplished after everyone counted them out 💙🧡 can’t wait for next year when they’ve had a full training camp with patrick and they come back better than ever 🤍

tw: child goes “missing” for a brief moment, mild innuendo

word count: 2.9k

summary: the msg broadcast gets double the barzal men for a little bit

Offering to take the girls to the arena for a game seems like it’s a great idea until you’ve got Talia, both Martin girls, and Tulsa Horvat begging for pretzels mid-way through the second. Normally you’d have at least one of Syd or Holly with you, but since the outing is for Talia’s birthday, you’d thought it would be fine to just take the girls yourself. That you’d be a good friend, letting Syd and Holly have their Thursday night free, since all of your husbands are retired now and they don’t have to come to the arena if they don’t want to.

But Max is getting antsy and Talia is yapping your ear off - much like her father - begging for snacks.

“Mom, please, I’m starving,” she pokes her lip out at you in a pout and widens her hazel eyes. She looks unfairly like Mat when she makes that expression even though her general looks had shifted to favor yours as she got older. You’ve never really been able to say no to either kid anyway.

“Can you at least watch your brother while I go get snacks?” You ask, lifting your eyebrow and twisting your hair back into a slightly sloppy ponytail. Max swings his legs in his seat next to you, grinning at his big sister. His hat dips over his eyes and you make a mental note to adjust the strap.

Talia looks at you as if you just asked her to swallow a cup of live spiders. “Mom, please no! I don’t even know why we brought him, today was supposed to be for my birthday,” she whines a little, those pre-teen hormones working overtime. Two weeks from turning eleven, and you find yourself missing your baby girl more and more each day. She’s usually a pretty polite and delightful kid, but something about that upcoming eleventh birthday is creating that familiar teenage whine you’d been so good at back in the day. You should really call and apologize to your mother.

Max pipes up without taking his eyes off the action on the ice, “your birthday’s not even today!”

“Thank you, Max,” you hold a hand out in front of his face, covering his mouth, as Talia shoots him a glare. Max wiggles away from your hand, his head bobbing in every direction as he tries to see the players. “I should’ve known this would happen.” You pinch the bridge of your nose with your free hand.

The only reason Talia had picked this game for her birthday is because of Jack Cizikas’s last minute call up from the AHL. Her puppy crush on him is something you and Kristy like to joke about, but right now you’re not laughing. Casey, Kristy, Reese, and Cole are up in a suite with the grandparents for the moment and you should’ve just sent Max up there to join them, but your five-year-old is still a little clingy. He loves the Cizikas family, hero-worships ten-year-old Cole, but when you’d suggested it, his face had crumpled and he’d said, “I wanna stay with you, Mama!”

Who were you to argue with that?

“Okay, I’ll take Max with me, but Win,” you raise your voice and look down a few seats at Winnie Martin, the oldest of your babysitting charges at fifteen, “do not leave these seats until I get back, okay?”

Winnie grins at you, Matt’s smile copy and pasted onto her face. She gives you a little salute and nods, “you got it.”

Talia turns back to the girls, completely ignoring you, and you roll your eyes a little before holding out your hand to Max. “Come on, buddy. Let’s go get some snacks,” you say, savoring the feeling of his little hand in yours. You never know when he’ll start thinking he’s too cool for his mom, so you’ll enjoy it while it lasts.

“Can I get ice cream?” He asks, skipping along next to you. He gives Sparky a high five when you pass the mascot at the top of the stairs.

You laugh a little and point Sparky and his handler in the direction of the girls. “I’m sure Winnie will love to see you,” you say, nostalgia washing over you as you think about the early years of your relationship with Mat and Winnie’s love for the dragon. Sparky nods and gives you an enthusiastic thumbs up, before bounding down the stairs. It’s a different person in the costume now, obviously, but you all had made sure to keep Winnie humbled by making sure each iteration of the Sparky knew to stop and see her at a game. The teen plays along gamely, her mother’s daughter.

Max tugs on your hand, drawing your attention. “Mama! Can I get ice cream?” He repeats his request and you shake your head.

“Nope, sorry, kid. It’s past your sugar cutoff,” you shake his arm when he pouts and kicks his Nike against the floor, nearly tripping himself as he tries to keep walking. “I’ll split a pretzel with you though.”

“I don’t wanna pretzel,” he whines, dragging his feet as he traipses behind you. You dodge a few people, tugging Max along. He keeps whining a little, complaining under his breath, and you pinch at the bridge of your nose before squatting down so you’re at his eye level.

Max goes quiet, but his whole face scrunches up in annoyance and you smile softly. “If you have ice cream now, you’re not going to be able to sleep. And remember that Daddy’s coming on your field trip tomorrow so don’t you want to be well rested for that?” You raise an eyebrow at him while Max considers your explanation.

The line shifts forward while Max is considering and you smile awkwardly up at the family in line behind you, silently apologizing for not moving. The mother waves you off with a polite smile too. Solidarity.

“Can I have ice cream tomorrow then?” Max finally asks and negotiating with the tiny terrorist wasn’t on your to do list today, but you nod anyway, knowing it’ll bite you in the ass tomorrow.

“Yes, after your field trip you can have a little ice cream,” you stand up, knees creaking a bit, and move forward on the line. Matter settled, you hook your fingers in the back collar of Max’s Horvat jersey, worn because ‘Uncle Bo is the coolest!’ much to Mat’s annoyance and your amusement. At the self-serve counter, you grab five pretzels - even if Max doesn’t want to share, you still want a snack - and a Diet Coke, hoping for a quick burst of energy. You let go of Max’s jersey to fish your phone out of your back pocket and tap it against the reader.

“Okay, Max, back to -“ you cut yourself off, looking down at your side and not seeing Max. “Max? Oh, fuck. Where did he go?”

Your heart hammers in your chest, slight panic rising when you scan the concourse and don’t spot your kindergartener. “Fuck,” you mutter under your breath, the only thing keeping your panic at a reasonable level is the fact that Max was quite literally almost born in the arena and knows it better than anyone. Of course that also means he could be hiding literally anywhere and never be found.

“I…okay, think like Max,” you step off to the side, against the wall, so you can figure out what to do. “Where the hell is he going to go?”

The muffled cheers of the crowd filter through the arena, signifying that the Islanders have added to their lead late in the second. You smile faintly and, like a lightning bolt to the head, realize where Max wandered off to. Or where you hope he wandered off to.

You book it towards the Lab and the MSG broadcast set up, trying to see around the crowds of people that are leaving their seats now that the second period is over. Obviously, you can’t see anything around all the people and the closer you get to the main stairs, the more panic you’re starting to feel, thinking about the girls back at the seats and what you’ll do if Max isn’t with Mat.

Once the cameras and desk come into view, your entire body unclenches, Max is happily perched on Mat’s hip, chattering away with Shannon while Mat and Thomas discuss the second period’s play. The cameras are on and your son is broadcasting live on MSG. You wiggle your way through the little crowd of people around the set and get to the front, by the retractable belt barriers, and try to catch Mat’s eye.

The second he spots you, his entire expression changes, a delighted smile stretching across his face and his eyes crinkling up at the corners. He looks like a twenty-something again, not the nearly forty-year-old he actually is.

“Max!” You hiss, trying not to be heard. “Send him over here!” You wave your free hand at the duo, Diet Coke wedged under your arm and pretzels getting squished in your hand.

Mat shakes his head at you and Thomas and Shannon look over too, all three of them laughing. Mat turns back to the camera, Max smiling like the cat that got the canary. “My wife’s trying to get our broadcast sidekick back,” he says, laughing. Mat bounces Max in his arms. “But I think we’ll keep him around for his color commentary.”

“No, oh my god,” you shake your head and gesture for Max to come back to you. “Mat, stop it.”

“Max,” Mat turns to look at your son, totally ignoring you, “what did you think of the game so far?”

Embracing the fact that Mat’s going to let Max join them for a while at least, you sigh and relax into the moment, watching Max perk up as he gets to discuss his favorite thing.

“I missed Matt’s goal,” he complains, Matt Maggio must’ve been the one to score when you noticed Max was missing. “But I like Jack the best ‘cause he’s funny and plays mini sticks. And also he gave me a piggy-back all day at Easter.”

Shannon laughs and chimes in, “we like Jack around here too. But hey, Max, I can show you Matt’s goal while your dad and Thomas discuss some of the finer points of the game.”

Max wiggles out of Mat’s arms and darts around Thomas’s back so he can stand with Shannon and watch the goal he missed. You snap a picture of Max’s head poking over the desk, heart melting at the sheer excitement on his face. You also notice the dozen texts littering your phone’s screen - a multitude of laughing emojis sent from the girls while they watch at home.

The fans around you are clearly eating up Max’s presence and you feel a little spike of anxiety thinking about how exposed he is to the public now, after keeping his and Talia’s faces mostly hidden on your social media pages. It’s always a little inevitable that the kids are seen with Mat out in public, but you almost wish you could snatch up all the phones recording video and taking pictures of Max as he points something out to Shannon on the iPad.

You take a nervous bite out of your pretzel and try to just enjoy the moment until they go to commercial when you can duck under the belt barrier. Mat grins boyishly at you, grabbing your waist to pull you in for a quick kiss. “Well, this is fun,” he says, pulling back from the kiss. “Family broadcast.”

“He is so stupid sneaky,” you shake your head, offering Mat the pretzel that you’d taken a bite out of. He accepts it and tears off a piece of his own. “And fast.”

Thomas laughs, leaning his forearms on the desk. “That’ll be helpful when he’s zipping around defensemen and scoring goals,” he teases before going to say hi to the fans and take selfies.

“Mom, look!” Max pops up at your side, holding a puck. Where did he get that?

“Pretty cool,” you smile down at him and let Mat lift him back up onto his hip. Max’s long legs kick at Mat’s thighs. “Where’d you get that, bud?”

“From Dad when I got here,” Max chirps. “Can I stay? Cause I don’t wanna be with the girls.”

He cuddles up against Mat’s shoulder, the father-son duo wearing matching hangdog, pleading expressions on their faces. The day Mat taught both kids the look was the worst day of your life, weakening your already minimal willpower. This time you have to say no, interrupting Mat while he’s working is only cute for so long.

“Sorry, Maxy,” you reply sympathetically. “We have to get back to the girls, but we’ll see Dad right after the game.”

Max whines loudly, reminding you that he’s still only five, and you chew on the inside of your lip. Mat pats Max on the back and whispers something in his ear, the extra lighting catching on the few greys that are starting to form in Mat’s dark hair. You wait while Mat talks quietly to your son, trying not to worry about coming back from commercial while you’re all standing in the middle of everything. Eventually, Max huffs an exasperated sigh and wiggles out of Mat’s grip again, slumping his way over to your side.

You smirk a little, “gee, don’t look so thrilled to come hang with your mom.”

Mat laughs and you roll your eyes at him.

“I wanted to stay with Dad,” Max pouts, little fingers gripping tightly onto the puck. “But he said that he’d take me to the locker room if I go with you.”

“Bribery,” Mat winks at you. “A dad’s best weapon.”

The ten second warning that the commercial is ending blinks and you grab Max’s hand, “okay, time to go back to the girls. We’ll see Dad later, okay?”

Max waves at Mat as you guide him away from the set. “Bye, Dad! Don’t forget I wanna see Jack and the locker room,” he shouts and you can hear Mat’s laughter boom over the noise of the crowd.

“I won’t forget Max, be good for Mom,” Mat calls out.

You hurry back to your seats, Max hopping along and waving to people as you go. He gives big, cheerful greetings to the ushers and security guards he recognizes, forcing you to stop when Sparky passes by so he can give the mascot a high-five and a hug around the legs.

“Max, baby, please. We can see Sparky later,” you sigh, a little worried about leaving the girls alone for so long. You know they’ll listen and not leave the seats, but you feel vaguely like a terribly mother/babysitter since they’ve been sitting by themselves for nearly twenty minutes.

Max pouts, but takes a hold of the hand you’re holding out for him and dutifully follows you back to the seats. He clambers over the couple at the end of the row and you apologize quickly for him, making another mental note to work on the kid’s manners.

“Where did you go?” Talia pops up in her seat like a meerkat, wrinkling her face at you in confusion. “We thought you, like, got kidnapped!”

“We didn’t get kidnapped,” you huff, passing around the pretzels. The girls thank you and turn back to the on-ice intermission action. Max reaches for your half eaten one too and you’re glad you at least got a bite in earlier. “Max ran off to see Dad.”

Max grins at his sister, mouth full of chewed pretzel. “Dad gave me a puck and I got to be on TV with him,” he manages to sound smug and excited all at the same time, waving the gifted puck in one hand.

Talia pouts a little, still childish despite how she tries to mimic the older girls.

“Eat your pretzel,” you twirl your finger to get her to look back at the ice. “There are a thousand pucks at home. Oh,” you add, “we’re going to head down to the locker room after the game. Dad promised Max.”

That gets the girls going, chattering about how they get to see Jack and the rest of the players, giggling like crazy while huddled together. You lean back in your seat, smiling softly at how cute they all are. Max is on his feet, dancing along to the arena music, waving both hands in the air - your little party animal. You send Mat a video of him dancing, teasing that father and son have the same moves.

He shoots back a gif of himself dancing at the Martins’ wedding more than fifteen years ago, making you laugh out loud, drawing the attention of all five kids. “Ignore me,” you laugh, waving a hand at them.

Another message from Mat vibrates your phone: leave the kids with marts and syd when you drop the girls off after the game, i wanna show you more of my moves 👀

Giggling like a high schooler with a crush, you take a minute to appreciate that Mat still makes you feel floaty and dizzy with love. Over ten years together and he still makes your heart skip a beat.

“Mom,” Talia’s voice slices through your thoughts, “what’s Dad saying? Because you look so weird.”

Schooling your features into a more neutral expression, you lean forward over the seat and ask, “how do you guys feel about a sleepover at Aunt Syd and Uncle Matt’s?”

#mat barzal #mat barzal x reader #mat barzal x you #mat barzal fic #nhl fic

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gutterfuuck · 6 months ago

Note

bro bro hear me out

you’re like the only mark writer out there so i NEED THIS TO HAPPEN PLS.

frat boy mark x sorority girl reader.

PLLLLLEAAAAAAAASEEEEEEEEEEE.

enough — !

this idea was so good, i had to start writing before i lost my mind and forgot!! you are such genius. this is probably a little off topic(?) as what you were thinking!! sorry if it is not what you expected, however, i will be using this idea in future so if you do not enjoy this, i will be writing another that is more enjoyable to you!! (with credit to you of course as the original anon!!) the frat name is an abbreviation because i couldn’t come up with one 😭😭

cw: reader is like 2 years older than mark? idk they’re both in their 20s, no superheroes/abilities au!!, william is in here for a bit i love william #williamforpresident2024, alcohol, typical college frat/sorority type parties, the start is quite long sorry i got carried away 😭, dubcon(?), reader is a bitch lowkey, mark gets mean, smut, headlock, piv, degradation, mark gets really mean ouh, creampie hehe, typical sparkie fic it’s evil and hiding under your bed like the babadook or something, aftercare at the end cuz i got soft

a/n: i was supposed to release this yesterday night though have had to edit and spellcheck this myself!! i am quite proud as this is probably the longest fic i have written without any editing from my friend!! if you notice small mistakes no you didn’t

he’s had it with you.

it’s only been a few months since he’s started college and he’s already way behind everyone else. you didn’t have a care in the world, you’d already completed college!! yet you still stay in your old dorm room, bunking with someone who had gotten lucky and left without a roommate, you payed whatever rent you felt like. you just enjoyed the college scenery, the lifestyle, you never wanted it to end… most of all, you loved your sorority. you were well aware that you might’ve looked a little bit like a loser, still hanging out with the sorority with ever changing members. you didn’t care, you were practically in charge, their leader - the queen bee. and that’s what got on his nerves.

you see, you’ve been handed life on a silver platter. a sweet 16th birthday party with a car bought just for you, spoiled absolutely rotten. mark couldn’t really talk, but at least his family came from humble beginnings, you’ve always had your money and status. you’ve always gotten what you want, even if you had to play the long game. the long, hard, boring game... which people could only stand for five minutes or less, what with your constant whining sounds and your foot stomping on the ground, pouting with your arms crossed over your chest. whatever you wanted, people just gave to you. handed themselves on a silver platter… not him. never him.

mark had a love-hate relationship with you. on one hand, you were hot, stunning… he’d be lying if he said he didn’t think about you some nights, just like the other guys he hung around with.. on the other hand, you were nothing but a spoiled brat. he remembered the first time you’d come bolting at him as he stood at the doorstep of your sorority house, confusing it with the other one he’d supposed to have showed up at on his first day. you threw your arms around him as your head pounded from last night’s heavy drinking, your only sober thought being “i hope the other girls don’t get to him first.”

“fresh meat huhhh… i *hic* always like the newer ones… you like to party..?” you ask, swaying around with your arm around his like you’d known him for years let alone five seconds. mark tensed, expression shifting to slight annoyance as you almost crumpled over, dragging you back up by your shoulder gently. “no. do you know where house 242 is?” you pout at him, wavy finger pressing to his cheek and wobbling a line down his face before he smacked your hand away, tutting at you and looking around the front porch of your sorority house. bingo. mark shook you away, trudging towards the folded up lawn chair he had spotted, bringing it back and unfolding it for you. you’d annoyed him, sure, but his mother had taught him to be nice to girls.

actually, he pitied you. mark thought he could read between the lines, thought you being drunk at 11am on a wednesday morning must’ve been because you were hurting about something, someone, someplace… debbie’s words before she dropped him off in the car two days prior played in his head, ‘you never know what people could be going through, so be kind.’ as much as you’d bothered him so far, he was still inclined to make sure you were at least sat down to minimize risking an injury. you flopped down into the chair, groaning when you bumped your spine against the metal frame of it, tilting your head back to look up at him. he stared down at you with tired brown eyes, stoic expression not registering to you in your drunken state. at least you were pretty.

he clears his throat before he talks again, unfolding a piece of paper from his pocket, “house 242. do you know how to get there?” your eyes widen, mouth falling open with an excited gasp, “shut up! you are not in OOA!” you slur loudly, attempting to get up from your seat but dropping back into it as your socked feet slipped on the grassy ground below. mark gave a sideways smile and nodded slowly, he hadn’t been given the frat name yet, only the house number. mark didn’t want to have to walk around campus with a drunk sorority girl, you were only dressed in a night dress and a loose jacket, people would get the wrong idea! but, if he had no choice (and he didn’t really feel like walking around campus and looking for the house for the third time today) he’d have to have you as his temporary guide of sorts. this was so embarrassing, he really hoped nobody would think of him as a scumbag.

after watching you flap your arms and get all excited about his frat, you wobble towards the house, rushing to put on a pair of shorts and a tank top, slipping your feet into your fluffy pink slippers, a staple. because of you, no other girls apart from your sorority would wear pink shoes around campus. and you wondered why people had branded you, and your little minions who wanted to be like you, as a bully of sorts. actually, if you thought for more than twenty seconds about it, you’d know people’d rather stay on your good side: you were rich, pretty, stole people’s boyfriends on the regular, confronted those who you thought were competition and you were allowed to basically do as you wanted. because daddykins’ best friends with the dean and the dean makes wayyyy less than your dear old dad and your father bends over backwards for you so if you wanted to waste your degree you fucked and paid yourself to, then you absolutely could.

when you both start walking, you attempt to interlock your arm with his, twisting your face up in disbelief when he rejected your advances. nobody had ever, ever, in the history of ever, done that to you. you want to stamp your foot on the ground but you resist, awkwardly crossing your arms over your chest. maybe he was just shy, you’d met guys like this before. new, shy, never had a pretty girl at his side like this… you got it, you really did. you’d take this as a loss, you’d soften him down later, OOA liked to party and you hadn’t seen a new member who hadn’t drank on their first night yet. you’d know, you’d been doing this same routine for almost three years. fresh meat, lost little lamb, needs the drunk pretty girl’s help ‘cause OOA was pretty hidden away, slipping your arm into theirs to tease them, walking them to their new hangout… coming back before seven on the evening and flirting your way into the new guy’s pants, blocking them when they try to contact you before moving on to the next one… one step had already gone south in your plan. you’d take it on the chin this time. he was cute and you’d already claimed him as yours, the other girls would know as soon as they saw him.

the path you both walked on faded into the concrete, a grassy path appearing as you spotted some guys outside of the house, a keg of beer already being set up this early in the day. mark thought maybe he’d made a mistake jointing the same frat his father had during his own college days, the promise of the frat being quite calm and collected faded away from almost three decades ago, the newer generation of young adults poisoning the good name his father had gone on and on about. sure, nolan had drank during his college years but parties and alcohol were never kept at OOA.

you see, mark wasn’t the average frat guy type: not loud, not obnoxious, actually wanted to learn and grow from his college experience and make some new friends. good friends, not meatheads who didn’t know their asses from their elbows. he hoped at least one person in that house was capable, sighing quietly to himself as he unenthusiastically approached the house with you. a guy waved at you, you waved back with a giggle as another set his drink down, announcing to the other guys that “y/n was here”. oh, so you were just a slut then. you don’t know what people could be going through, so be nice. he rolled his eyes internally, feeling slightly guilty with his thoughts as a red plastic cup is thrust into his chest by someone he’d found familiar, looking up to meet william’s eyes, his stone face cracking into a smile. he hadn’t even noticed the way you’d slipped away from him, chatting with some guy who stood shirtless with a concoction of different liquors that made him blink too slowly, constantly shifting from foot to foot to maintain his balance.

“what happened to not wanting to join us?” his friend asks as mark takes the cup into his hand, smelling the contents of the drink before he decides not to put it to his lips. it was way too early to day drink, he hadn’t even put his backpack down yet, “changed my mind, dad was on my ass about it, i just didn’t want the headache when i go visit.” he shrugged, eyes wondering over to you, watching as you let that guy hug you from behind, a strange feeling bubbling up in his gut. he wasn’t sure if he felt shame or disappointment that you hadn’t stayed with him, no longer worried about how weird it would have looked to walk around with you intoxicated. he looks away before your eyes meet his again, attention shifting back to william and whatever he had been babbling on about before he’d started daydreaming. “…and that’s why- mark? are you listening?” william snapped his fingers at him, shaking him out of his absent looking gaze. william looks behind him, in the direction mark had been staring in, slowly nodding his head with an eyebrow lifted when he looks back at mark again, “oh, right. i get it.” he smirks, mark’s red tinted cheeks being confirmation. “shut up, she only bought me here ‘cause you weren’t answering your texts.” he retorts, shaking his head when william gives him a knowing look.

that was the first day he’d met you. mark didn’t go to the party that night, much to your disappointment. instead, you spent the night in the lap of one of the jocks you’d settled on as a compromise, swigging back shots of vodka and rejecting his advances. he had a tiny cock anyway, you’d seen it before when one of the girls in your sorority received a picture of his dick and squealed about how gross the foreskin looked. you weren’t gonna fuck this guy, partly because you didn’t feel like it and partly because you were disappointed that you hadn’t gotten to see more of mark. you’d see him around campus, catch him staring at you outside sometimes. every interaction was short lived, always being shut down by him. hard to get was by far your least favourite game and there was no way mark would be able to resist someone like you! this had to be the twilight zone or something.

you’d tried everything at this point, low cut shirts with short skirts that exposed the bottom of your butt, shorts that should class as panties with how they barely classed as shorts, bikinis, standing outside his frat house while he was in it and being sprayed by beer in a wet t shirt contest, the works!! you had never been so offended, he just acted as if he didn’t even see you! it’s been four months now, four months of being basically celibate due to your petty “if he cant take me, nobody will have me” mentality. god, you were acting desperate. it embarrassed you, you hated working hard for things that should come as easy as one, two and three. while you thought your attention seeking streak was getting you nowhere, mark’s brain was going into overdrive.

“i just don’t get why you’re so… worked up about it.” william says as he sips from his mug that held coffee - the irish kind since he had a migraine from yesterday’s party and felt the only way to recover was to drink more - sitting with his leg crossed over the other on the sofa with mark who typed away on his laptop, “worked up? worked up?” mark repeated, never looking up from his screen, “come on. i’m sure she didn’t mean it-“ william began, sentence cut short by mark slamming his laptop down, getting up from the couch to put it on the kitchen isle, eyebrows furrowed. he was talking about how you’d ‘accidentally’ taken his jacket instead of yours and when he’d asked for it the morning after, you’d sent one of your sorority minions outside to tell him that they had no clue where the jacket or you was- only to see you walking around campus in it like it belonged to you a minute later, returning to the sorority house with drinks in a little black plastic bag. he had to walk back in the rain, his shirt soaked and blood boiling. yes, the jacket wasn’t a big deal. what william didn’t know was that he was mad because for the last few weeks, you’d been at the parties he’d been at. not only that but you’d always have a different guy all over you, always looking over to him, almost like you were doing it on purpose.

“yeah sure, i’m sure she didn’t mean to spill her drink all over me last week and steal my jacket yesterday, y’know, the one i needed to get home in the rain… oh, i’m sure she didn’t mean to break the fucking tv- the only one we have, when she came over for beer-pong.” mark spits back, pinching the space between his eyes with his index and thumb. william rolls his eyes, sipping away at his coffee without a care in the world. “and i’m sure she didn’t mean to make me miss nearly all of my classes.” he finishes, which makes william turn his head towards him with a smile, “oh, i’m sure y/n physically kept you from going to class.” william tuts, standing up and walking out of the room, “last time i checked, she doesn’t even go here…!” he said as he walked off, refusing to argue with mark. william was right, you hadn’t stopped him from attending classes. he’d just become a little obsessed maybe, wanted to keep an eye on you just in case. mark could only think back to the first day he’d met you, how you’d been drunk from before noon and how you looked like you needed help, how his mother’s words buzzed around in his head… he still hung onto that, taking himself up as your personal guardian angel without your knowledge.

you open your phone when you leave the shower, whatever music that had been playing through it stopping as you pressed pause to focus on the words on your screen:

william🤞

prty @ 242 6pm. bring back his jacket 🙄

you tilt your head slightly before you remember what he’s talking about. you dry your hands, opening your phone to respond,

y/n

omw ❤️

is all you type, not bothering to look at the notification that made your phone buzz before you rush to your little vanity, ready to doll yourself up for the evening and throw on some clothes, pairing them with the jacket you’d now have to return. you get an influx of messages on your phone suddenly, the group chat of the girls in your sorority letting you know that they’d also be attending, emojis and gifs and reaction images galore as you scroll through your phone. the girls wanted to go colour coordinated, all in the same pink miniskirts and black tank tops. you, however, wore a black miniskirt with a pink tank top, just to differentiate yourself from the rest of your hive. you didn’t remember exactly when you’d gotten william’s number but he was useful at times. plus, you thought he was pretty fun to hang around with! that, and the fact that he was mark’s best friend.

when you get to the OOA house music is already blaring and some of the boys are already sat out on the porch, some members of your sorority had shown up a few minutes prior. probably the new girls, you think, knowing the other girls wouldn’t make a mistake as grave as showing up earlier than you. for once, you’re gonna let it go. you were in a good mood today, felt like you were finally going to get your hands all over that slippery prick. you didn’t know why you had your sights set on him, you could be with literally anyone else. you told yourself it was pride, he’d offended you by rejecting you. pretty girls never knew when to quit, especially the rich and spoiled ones like yourself. you made heads turn towards you, as per usual. compliments flooded into your ears, dry “thank you”’s and “aww you’re so cute”’s leaving your mouth, hiding the scowl you had plastered under your perfect demeanour.

you scanned the room, looking for one person in particular, pushing away drinks that had been offered to you before you decided to just give up, plopping yourself down on the same sofa mark had been typing his essay on hours prior, finally giving in when william approaches you, swaying a little as he walked, already wasted by the looks of it. you put on a fake smile, trying to stop yourself from having a full on temper tantrum over not being able to find the guy you’d gotten all dressed up for, wearing his jacket, having no fun at the party his frat house was throwing. william opens his mouth before closing it again like a fish, trying to find his words, “y-you came..!” he speaks loudly, placing his cup on the coffee table in front of you, already littered with other people’s drinks as he throws his arms around you in a hug, “duh, it’s not a party til i’m here.” you say, your friendly tone threatening to falter as you looked down at your nails, observing them as if they had better things going on. you return his drunken embrace, giggling when he accidentally spills his drink on himself.

“you bought it, good..! you wouldn’t believe his b-..b-bitching- earlier-“ he covers his mouth with his hand to stop himself from burping at the last part of his sentence, gesturing towards the jacket you had draped over your shoulders to which you nod and smile, patience wearing thin. if william was here then where the fuck was mark? you wanted to ask him where the rest of him was, though didn’t think he’d understand as fast in his drunken state. tipsy wasn’t even the word. “it just looked so similar to mine, ha!” you lied, finally taking one of the empty cups out of the plastic sleeve and helping yourself to the bottle of vodka that stood in the middle, pouring orange juice straight into it afterwards to try and mask the sharp taste. william laughs, you drink.

“actually- he’s upstairs. studying or whate-ever.” william points to the ceiling, brushing some of his hair out of his face, “i can go give it to him if you like-“ and just like his conversation with mark earlier, he’s cut off short again by you springing up with a no, forgetting about your drink as it spilled over the rim, the whole thing splashing over your shirt. you gasp and squeak, william tries to stifle a loud laugh that would’ve bought all of the attention to you. even while drunk he knew not to put his reputation on the line, and his reputation he did kind of value. nobody wanted to draw unnecessary attention to you, the last person who had done that had been trashed so badly they had to move out of the state after a few months of non stop rumours. you sigh, defeated as you pick up someone’s jumper - they shouldn’t have left it out in the first place if they didn’t want you to use it as a cloth - and trying to soak all of the alcohol out of the black fabric. “bathroom upstairs- mark’s in the room to the r-right— ugh, i’m gonna throw up,” william says as he retches, cheeks puffing out before he takes his leave, sprinting into the back garden to puke in a plant pot. a few more compliments, you’re flirted with by a guy for like five minutes, you take a few more swigs of someone else’s drink and you’re headed upstairs, looking for the bathroom and hoping nobody had started fucking in there so you could act out your ever developing plan.

your eyes lit up when you successfully pushed the door and it wasn’t locked, closing it behind you and twisting the latch so nobody would intrude on you. lifting your shirt over your head, you’re careful to not let the fabric ruin your makeup. the next thing that’s discarded is your bra, winking at yourself in the mirror and jiggling your boobs experimentally, making sure your girls looked their best. you then put mark’s jacket on, sleeves coming past your hands as the hem just barely missed your knees. you didn’t hang out or interact with him often, you never get the chance and it’s frustrating, but you’re reminded of the potential size difference between you and him when you put on his jacket. showtime. if this didn’t get you laid tonight, you’d have to get a new name and move out of the COUNTRY out of embarrassment of coming off as desperate. to the right, a door that had large posters on the surface, some stickers peeled away and faded from years of being piled up on the door. a sock on the handle. no fucking way.

this had never happened before. nobody had ever wanted to fuck someone else before sticking it in you. you wanted to scream, rip your hair out and stomp your feet until you fell through the fucking ceiling. this wasn’t fucking happening, the boy you’d had your eyes on was not fucking another girl in this room. you saw red, the reality of not getting your way this time hitting you hard, your hand flying to the handle to twist it open, ready to have a cat fight if necessary. you felt like a steaming bull, felt like steam was coming out of your nose and ears cartoonishly. you didn’t even know what you were gonna do when you saw him and whoever the fuck that stupid bitch was, all you knew was that you hadn’t gotten what you wanted and it was time to let everyone know that.

you’re ready to bite his head off, both of them, blind rage taking over before you lay your eyes on the sight in front of you. he sat with his legs open, pants at his ankles with his head thrown back momentarily, hand going up and down between his thighs with his other hand holding up his shirt before he’s shuffling to cover himself, wide eyed and cursing with his cute face all beet red. “o-out..! get out-!” he stutters, voice cracking as he rushes to close the door, traping you behind it again. you’re stunned, never seen anything so… erotic before. you wished he wore shorts, the way his toned thighs flinched and tensed made you want to slide yourself up and down them, the small snippet of his abs you wished you’d had a longer look at before being blocked from entering… why’d he hide his body away for so long you’d never know. oh how you wished you’d seen his dick, imagining it made your mouth water. you shake your head, clearing your mind to prevent it from clouding with thoughts of lust, you couldn’t have your pussy leaking just yet. were you really so desperate for dick that you’d get wet without even seeing it? just the mental image of him, lip tugged between his teeth, pleasured expression barely visible? get your act together, you thought, breathing heavily before steadying yourself, standing up straight and knocking on his door.

“maaaarrrrkk…” you whine loudly, fist slamming against the posters, “i didn’t see anything, i swear..! but… i also won’t tell anyone if you let me in.” you offer teasingly, smiling wide when you heard a loud groan from the other side, followed by loud footsteps, followed by the door swinging open, mark avoiding your gaze with gritted teeth. he also wasn’t stupid, also had a reputation to keep squeaky clean. he’d had enough of you. for real, this time. he had enough of how you were the bitch who could make or break him if he ever slighted you in any way, had enough of the way you taunted him from afar, had enough of your complete and utter rudeness - who the hell even barges in when there’s a sock on the door? - he’d just had enough. he stood there, arms crossed as you took in your surroundings, blue and yellow scheme familiar to the clothes he wore... then it hit you, this was mark’s room. it wasn’t weird to have people living at a frat house, some people owned them. you wondered how he felt having to listen to music and people yelling and drinking all night, though that thought was quickly brushed away by mark’s voice,

“that’s mine.” he says bluntly, cheeks still pink as he points to his jacket that you wore, still standing at the door like some sort of bouncer. you nod, closing the door behind you and ignoring his words, “nice room y’got… seance dog? how old are you?” you joke, helping yourself to the shelf where stacked comic books stood, picking one up and flicking through it. mark walked towards you, snatching it out of your hands and putting it back, “again, that’s mine. i want my jacket back, y/n. then you should leave.” he spoke matter-of-factly, glaring at you for a second as you rolled your eyes, sitting on his bed and making yourself at home. “ugh, you’re still mad about it? i’m sorry we have the same jacket. i was drunk! fuck, man.” you shoot a glare back, yours with a grin. he’s had enough. he was at his boiling point, red hot rage was about to start bubbling over and you were the person he didn’t really want to take it out on. “y/n, i’m not gonna tell you again.” he warns, scowling at you as he approaches, fists balled up into his hands. this was probably the part of him people could most see his father in, his expression when he got angry. it didn’t scare you, it made you want to tease him more. so he thought he could intimidate you? he had another thing coming.

“you can’t make me. i’ll scream, you want everyone to come rushing up here?” you wouldn’t, you were only teasing. like a bolt of lightning, he’s tugging the zip of his jacket down, attempting to take it off of you and kick you out himself. you grabbed onto the zipper, trying to block his hands away from zipping it down any further, “taking back my shit and you can get the fuck out of here-“ he muttered, ignoring your sounds of protest, “mark— stop it, i’ll go i just-“ he doesn’t care, he’s trying to force your hands away, slapping at them and trying to restrain them to your sides, “shut up, shut the fuck up, give me back my fucking jacket, now—! you’re a liar, your jacket is hot-fucking-pink!” he’s more violent, grabbing the front and damn near shaking you around, your legs trying to kick him away, “m-mark, please-! stop, stop it!” there’s almost tears in your ears as you try to fight him off, remembering how you’d taken off your shirt and left it in the bathroom, with your bra.

mark couldn’t care less about his jacket or if it would be ruined, it was about the principle. more pulling, more trying to hold your hands away, more grabbing the jacket and trying to pull it off before— schzzzzt. fuck. the zipper popped, your protests stopped and mark’s huffs calmed down, eyes settling on your bare chest. tears rolled down your cheeks as you looked up at him, not expecting to have his eyes meet yours. he looks pissed, he’s had enough of you. right now, mark didn’t give a shit about what you were going through, didn’t care about being nice. you’d tipped him over, now he’s really annoyed with you. “mark,” you shuffle away, jumping with a surprised gasp when you feel his hands wrap around your ankles and pull you back to your place, the action making your skirt and his duvet catch on each other, hiking your skirt up to expose your underwear. it was like he wasn’t even looking at your body, keeping his eyes on yours at all times. you open your mouth again and his hand flies to your face, covering your mouth to prevent you from talking at all. now you’re scared, now you’re intimidated. so scared, yet your stomach flipped and your cunt fluttered around nothing when he silenced you with his palm.

“shut up, you bitch.” he snarled, tightening his grip on your face by pushing your cheeks together. it almost hurt, almost. mark shook his head, “what’s wrong with you? you wanna make me mad? for fucks sake—“ his words make your clit throb, your thighs slowly shifting to meet each other so you could move your hips around and get yourself off a little. this was hot, mark was serious. “you’re gonna scream? what the fuck, y/n, what the fuck is your problem!?” you’re wet. fuck, you’re wet and you’re being yelled at. this was the shit you’d see in porn, but for real. no acting, just a coincidence. when he lets you go to get off of you, he finally lets himself catch a glimpse of the wet spot that’s forming in your panties. he should’ve never looked, now he’s caught a sneak of your tits. the noise he makes is halfway between a groan and a sarcastic chuckle, pushing his hair back with the same hand he used to cover your mouth, “now you’re gonna go and leak all over my bed? after trying to go through my stuff?” mark can’t ignore the way his cock strains in his pants, the way it twitches as he glances over you again. any normal person would’ve ran out of his room, trying to cover themselves with the broken jacket and probably never speak to him again. then again, you weren’t a normal person, you were rich. hadn’t ever been told no or been scolded like this before or at all for that matter. you were truly stunned, felt like a deer in headlights.

“m’sorry, sorry..” you finally peep, sniffing as tears dripped down your face. he groaned, clearly annoyed by your antics now, “now you’re gonna cry? now you’re crying, you did this. stop crying, they’re not real tears.” he spits and you obey, quickly wiping your face, black streaks of mascara on your hands as well as your face. fuck, you looked gorgeous like this. you clearly wanted it. you didn’t look like you did, if anyone had burst through like you had earlier they’d definitely get the wrong idea - the worst idea - the kind of idea that stops you from getting a job in your desired field in the future if interpreted the wrong way. mark swallowed thickly. “y’gonna scream?” he asks and you shake your head no without even processing the question, looking up at him with big wide eyes.

you’re on your stomach, clawing at the bedsheets and messing up the way he’d made his bed this morning, face being pressed into a pillow by a heavy hand, mark’s hand. he’s thrusting into you, hips crashing violently against yours over and over again, got your legs trapped between his as he’s using you like you’re a toy, his other hand gripping onto the fat of your ass to help the momentum of his thrusts. your moans are muffled, drool seeping from the corner of your mouth and onto his pillow as you kept your head pressed into the soft cotton pillow, taking in his scent. god, he was jabbing right against your cervix and you let out a particularly loud whine which makes the brute above you lean in to you, his chest pressing against your back so he could talk into your ear meanly, “what’s that? i can’t. fucking. understand. you.” he punctuated each word with a sharp jab into your g-spot, your wrists aching from how hard you were grabbing around at the sheets. he knew you hadn’t said anything, just wanted to tease you like you’d teased him. he’d stripped you naked before you were taking his cock so deliciously right now, tearing your panties off and shaking you out of his jacket which laid beside you. now this was worth playing the hard to get game.

“hey, y/n? you wanna scream?” mark said, sweat beading at his temples as he moaned when he felt your gummy walls close in on him with his words. you shake your head, an almost inaudible ‘no’ coming from the pillow before his arm is hooked around your neck, lifting you up. this new position made you arch your back, leaving you in a dreamy daze as your eyes adjusted to the light of the room again after having your head forced down for so long, “i said, you wanna scream?” he repeats, you shake your head, “n-no-! no, m’m-sorry fuck, mark, i’m sorry—!” you squeal, voice hoarse as he tightens his arm, putting you in a headlock and moving his other hand to your stomach to hold you in place. he was moving so fast, his fat dick throbbed and stretched and rubbed against allll the right places. no other boy had fucked you til your head spun, made you feel so defenceless and inferior… you’d never been filled up this good, you’d been choked, sure - but a headlock? your cunt gripped him tightly, vision dotting as your body shook violently in his grasp, his fingers now swiping over your hard little clit, making you try to stifle the loud half scream of his name somehow, biting your lip with your eyes rolling into the back of your skull.

“that’s fucking nasty.” he moaned, watching as you sprayed all over his sheets with your body convulsing, hissing when your pussy started to milk him vigorously as you came. he didn’t stop, only let go of you and watched as you thumped onto the bed weakly, trying to lift yourself up before he’s drilling you with his cock again. you’re hardly responsive, body still twitching with the aftershocks of your orgasm, not even noticing how you’d laid in your own release until you blinked a few times, the feeling finally coming back into your body that mark had knocked numb for a second, “p-please-“ you gasped out, hand reaching down to tap at his thigh. he swiped it away, grabbing your wrist and jerking your body back to meet his, obsessed with the way your bodies made smacking sounds when he snapped his pelvis into your rear. “you gonna bother me again after this? look at you, you’re lying in your own mess- oh fuck, keep tightening like that—“ he growls into your ear, balls slapping against your sensitive clit from behind. you couldn’t think, your thoughts being fucked out of your brain with every rough jab to your cervix, words forming and failing to put them together into understandable sentences. he’s just as blissed out, his anger had faded forever ago, replaced by a carnal urge to just fuck, keep plunging himself in and out of your weeping cunt.

you whine when he pulls out with a pop, lines of your slick coating his cockhead and sticking to it before they snapped and dribbled down onto the soaked sheets below you, his hands grabbing your waist so he could flip you onto your back this time, taking you by surprise and finally waking you up out of whatever dreamy daze you’d been in. this is just how you felt earlier but better, you were scared of him sure but you’ve never been so turned on, you’d never had someone defy you before, you asked for a pony when you were younger and threatened a tantrum which got you your pony, your parents would rather give you whatever you wanted instead of saying a simple no. you stare up at him, he stares down at you. call you crazy, maybe you were finally being put in your place, but having someone hover over you like this, possessive and firm, made you feel as if you had no power at all. mark didn’t care about who you were or what you could do to ruin him anymore, especially since he’d already ruined you. mascara streaked down the sides and front of your face which made tracks in your foundation, your lipstick had been smudged from having your face pressed into the pillow for so long and you were pretty sure you were missing an eyelash (which you were; stuck to the bedsheets and twisted and ruined, you’d have to buy another pair).

mark grabs one of your legs with his hands, pulling you close to him as he leaned in, body pushing your knee up to your shoulder albeit a little painfully, eliciting an uncomfortable mewl from you in the process. you felt as if you couldn’t talk, if you opened your mouth you’d die or something. you’d taken mark for a virgin what with the way he awkwardly shuffled his feet when you spoke to him, the way he never picked up on or wanted to pursue your advances. “don’t look at me like that.” he grits, eyebrows furrowing at the way you pouted at him. you hadn’t even noticed but now you’ve made him mad so now he’s pushing into you again, spearing you open on his dick wet with your slick, your expression changing as you raised your brows, eyes squeezed shut with your mouth hanging open like you were trying to catch flies. he moves his hands, hooking them under your knees so he could pull you back and forth against himself, cock throbbing and begging for release when you start tightening again, lewd gasps and moans coming from your spit slicked and ruined lipstick lips. he can’t stand you, can’t stand the way you’re moaning and trying to say his name while having all knowledge knocked out of you over and over again with stabs repeatedly hitting that same sensitive spot with brutal thrusts, hoping your hips didn’t break every time his crashed into yours.

then, a moment of weakness, “am i pretty?” you ask between whines, small and timid like a rabbit. he’s broken out of his current demeanour, tilting his head. mark feared he’d falter, he’d already given you what you wanted by using you like you were nothing but a warm crevice to slide his cock into. you already knew you were pretty, you just needed to hear it from him. needed to hear it from the guy you’d been chasing for months since you’d stumbled upon him, needed to have confirmation that he was attracted to you. his thrusts almost slow down - almost - before he nods, biting his lip to stop the groan that wanted to respond, “y-yeah, pretty..” mark finally mumbles, hips stuttering as the warm coil that tightened in his stomach threatened to snap. you could feel it too, you could feel the way his cock throbbed, the way the head twitched when it pressed against your cervix every time mark canted his hips up into yours, stretching your pussy around him, churning up your insides so they could only think of him. “pretty, really pretty…” he babbles as he tries to keep his thrusts steady, “also p-pretty fucking mean, stupid…” he continues, trying to ignore the way a pleasured shock creeped up his spine and made his legs shake like yours had before.

you were going to cum again, you could feel it. familiar tingles and twinges picking at you before you felt it fully, the mind numbing sensation of an orgasm being fucked out of you again. mark isn’t any better, chasing his own pleasure with his head tilted back steady “hah, hah, hah”’s slipping out of his mouth. working for stuff really was fun sometimes, even if you had to wait a while to get it. you’re lost, back arching up off of the bed with your waist subtly moving in time with his, catching small hazy blinks of him before his face is closer to yours, not even waiting to kiss you. his tongue is bigger than yours, as with the rest of him, completely pushing your tongue away as he kisses into your mouth, muffling both of your sounds as his thrusts became more and more uneven. he’s cumming, hard and fast and with no consideration whether you were on birth control or not, painting your pink walls with his white cum and leaving his mark deep inside you, seeping into your womb with thick globs. you came as soon as he did, dry this time, arms flailing to grab onto his back to anchor yourself. your cunt squeezed around him, trying to milk all of his release into you. you weren’t on the pill but you didn’t care, you could always get that sorted later.

mark didn’t pull out, huffing slightly as he came back to, blinking at your shaking form below him. if it had been porn, he’d feel bad, close the tab and ignore his post nut clarity. this time, even with all of the thoughts in his head telling him that he’d just broken you down, used you like you were disposable, he couldn’t help but feel accomplished. you might’ve won by getting him to fuck you but he’s won the ice cold heart of the mean bitch that’s now laying in her own squirt on his bed, twitching every now and again to show how much you’d enjoyed it. he sighs, shaking his head and pulls out of you, watching for a second as his cum slowly starts to spill out of your aching pussy, ruining his bedsheets even further, “you still here..?” he asks, looking over at you before he’s headed back over to where he’d stripped off all of his clothes, quickly dressing himself back up as he puts his boxers back on, sliding his jeans back up his legs and looking over at your limp body on his bed. you don’t respond with words, only a faint nod, your body still swimming in the warmth that you’d been pushed into by mark. you could feel the way his cum dribbled out of you messily, leaking down your lower half and soaking up the sheets even further.

you’re pulled from your bliss with mark’s words, unexpected and apologetic, “want me to clean you up?” and you melt, nodded with a small ‘uh-huh’ as he leaves the room, closing the door behind him and knocking the sock off in the process. he’d return a moment later, towel in hand with one corner wet with warm water, patting you down gently, stark contrast to how he was just a minute ago. mark wasn’t mean but he’d tried to be nice and nice just wasn’t working for him - wasn’t working for you - so he had to show you how mean he could really be, had to counteract you somehow. you flinched when he started wiping your cunt, hissing when he bumped against your overly sensitive clit with the towel. he muttered a small sorry, drying you up and leaving once more, the sounds of the music from downstairs louder for a second before the door is closed, louder again and then muffled when he comes back with your shirt and bra, tossing it to your side. he avoided your gaze, absently fiddling around with something in the corner of his room, waiting for you to put your clothes back on. you get the memo, pulling your shirt over your head and reaching out for his jacket before you backed away from it, remembering that you’d come here to return the thing.

as you stood up to look around for your underwear and skirt, your thighs twitch as you feel his cum leaking between your legs, trickling down slowly. you could clean up properly later, sliding your panties and the skirt back to where they had left. “look,” he started, turning your attention towards him, “you can have it. just.. bring it back on saturday. there’s another party or something, ask william.” mark turns to you, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly. you perk up as you clasp the strap to your heels back on, legs feeling like jelly as you moved to face him. you nod with a smile, eyes bright and sparkling like he’d just told you you’d won a billion dollars, “saturday, same time?” you ask, walking towards the door and resting your hand on the doorknob. mark hums at you, a silent yes. you take your leave, his broken jacket draped over your shoulders again as you make your way to the front door, ready to leave so you could go back to the dorm room you weren’t supposed to live in and sleep the next few days away. you couldn’t wait to party at house 242 again.

mark watched you walk away from the porch, your hands in his jacket’s pockets, the material swallowing you up to keep you warm. he shook his head, once again pinching the skin between his eyes, grabbing himself a clean towel so he could shower and fall asleep to the music that blared underneath him. mark thought he’d had enough of you.

now, he couldn’t get enough.

#dark blog #mark grayson x reader #mark grayson smut #invincible x reader #invincible smut #fem reader #tw dubcon #sorry if this got slow and boring at the end i need to think of ways to finish my fics better 😭😭

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she-walks-on-starlight · 10 months ago

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You Ruined Me (Do it Again)

a/n: Part 2 is here! I promise it will get juicy! Thanks to all who have liked it so far! My inbox is open for requests at the moment ✨

Warnings: drinking alcohol, referenced cheating, smoking, gambling, possessive!sevika, referenced sex (explicit!), choking kink, sexually explicit teasing.

Summary: Your first night out in a while after leaving your cheating ex does not end how you expected it to...but then what did you expect, going to her club?

Word Count: 1.3k

18+ | MEN AND MINORS DNI | 18+

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Final

You stomp out of the bathroom, thoroughly worked up and now angry as hell. The temptation to find Sevika and slap the smirk off her face was overwhelming. She’s gone back to her poker game, dealing the cards effortlessly, barely sparing you a glance as she lights up a new joint. You watch as she clenches it in her teeth, moving it around her mouth as she inhaled. A lump formed in your throat as a petite brunette with a short pink skirt and matching halter top teetered over and sat in Sevika’s lap, whispering in her ear and sharing the joint with her.

You recognised her, one of Babette’s girls. Exactly the kind of company Sevika preferred.

Jinx appears out of thin air it seems and squeezes your arm. “You okay, sparky?”

You grinned at your nickname, courtesy of being an electrician in the lanes. You turned away from the poker tables, willing the urge to vomit away. You were here to dance with your best friend, not worry about whatever games Sevika was playing.

“I am now you’re here! Wanna dance some more?”

You spared one last fleeting glance at the gambling area. That’s when you saw her, glaring intently at you and Jinx. You frowned, not sure why she’s suddenly so fixated on you when you realise her eyes are trained on Jinx’s hand, still squeezing your arm. Her eyes narrowed as Jinx moved to take your hand instead.

“Sure am! Come on!”

As you both began to dance to the music, Jinx pulled you close. “You sure you’re okay, sparky? I saw you know who over there giving you the stink-eye.”

You sigh. “One minute I’m in the bathroom minding my own business, putting more lippy on when she grabs me outta nowhere and kisses me-”

Jinx’s grip on you tightens. “Wait WHAT?! Are you okay? Did she hurt you? Where is she? I’m gonna tear her a new a-”

You laugh and pat Jinx’s shoulder. “Don’t worry, I didn’t mind really…”

You bite your lip as you remember the thrill that tingled through your veins, becoming a wanting ache between your thighs, begging for Sevika to make it better.

Searing bites to your neck as she claimed you, possessed you, marked you for all Zaun to see. You were hers, nobody else’s not that you’d ever want anyone but her.

You remembered her strong hands around your throat, squeezing tight as she reminded you that you were hers while she made you come around her fingers.

You had been hers, willingly. You would’ve followed her anywhere. It was just a shame she didn’t seem to feel the same way, in the end.

Jinx is staring at you incredulously, clicking her fingers at your dazed expression. “Y/n! You can’t seriously be telling me that you’re getting on that train again!”

You sigh, the throbbing of your pussy and the feeling of Sevika’s eyes on you making it hard for you to concentrate. Deep down, you know Jinx is right. You and Sevika had passion, fire, and raw sexual energy. You had never had better sex but that was all you two could offer each other. You’d tried the relationship thing, and it had crashed and burned just like your friends had said it would. Sevika was a player, and old habits die hard.

“I know, I know. I won’t go there. Just felt really good to be kissed by her like that, just like old times.”

Jinx huffed. “Please spare me the details. She’s no good for you, sparky. In fact, I know just how to get her off your mind.”

She pulled at your hand, leading you towards the bar. Jinx was a ball of excitement, as per usual. “We need shots! Hey, bar boy, we need tequila over here, stat!”

A group of girls giggling nearby caught your attention, one of them the cute blonde Jinx had danced with earlier. You eye Jinx knowingly as she stares in wonder at the cute blonde. You nudge her forward.

“Go talk to her, Jinx! Buy her a drink!”

Jinx grins at you. “Don’t need to tell me twice, sparky!”

She bounds up to the girl who giggles cutely as Jinx introduces herself, and you smile proudly as she accepts Jinx’s offer of a drink. Leaving Jinx to her impromptu date, you thank the bartender as he delivers two shots of tequila with salt and lime, as well as another espresso martini. You know the bartender well; he knows it’s your favourite cocktail.

As you sip, you survey the other people clamouring around the bar, spotting a woman leaning leisurely against one of the tall tables. The woman certainly looked older, older than Sevika even, but she was a smoke-show. She towered over most of the other club patrons, with dark, smooth skin accentuated by her white peplum dress. She was clearly a gym lover, her arm and thigh muscles bulging, much to your appreciation. Her hair was a dark grey, with silvery highlights, curled ringlets forming a beautiful afro. She sipped lazily at her drink, swirling the glass, clearly unfazed by the dancing partygoers around her. She was stunning, and the way your core dampened at the sight of her meant that she would be more than adequate. If Sevika was gonna mess you around, you’d find someone else to fuck you right.

You approached the table under the guise of putting the drinks down somewhere, while you put on a show of looking for Jinx even though you knew exactly where she was. You’d watched her lead the cute blonde out where the alleyway was about 5 minutes ago. Now it was time to cast a reel and see if the woman was interested. She hadn’t acknowledged you when you moved to the table but that didn’t mean anything. You innocently dropped the straw for your espresso martini onto the floor, allowing a gentle blush to grace your cheeks.

“Oh, I’m so clumsy.”

You bend over to pick up the straw, and wobble ever so slightly in your heels. You feel a presence at your back, sturdy hands holding you in place as you stand straight, the woman looking at you curiously.

Bingo.

You smile coyly. “Oh! Thank you, nearly went over then, didn’t I?”

The woman cocked her head to one side, analysing you. She ran a large hand from your exposed collarbones, up your neck until she reached your face and stroked your cheek.

“My, my, aren’t you a pretty little thing?”

Her voice was low, and very sexy. Your cunt pulsed as her warm hands caressed your face, imaging those long, thick fingers taking you to the brink and pushing you over the edge.

You arch an eyebrow at her but smile warmly in thanks. “I do try my best to look pretty, you never know who might be looking.”

The woman leaned forward, her scarred face grinning like the cat that got the cream. “Well, I’m certainly looking now, darling.”

Hook, line and sinker.

You flutter your eyelashes at her and push one of the shots towards her. Time for your winning move.

“Tequila?”

The woman smirks, nodding her acceptance. You pass her the saltshaker and a lime wedge. You watch as she licks the salt, observing her wide tongue and revelling in the coiling feeling in your lower belly. She drinks the tequila with no fuss, biting the lime wedge hard.

“I haven’t drunk tequila in an age! Delicious! But it is your turn now, sweet thing. I’m Ambessa, by the way.”

You wink at her. “I’m y/n.”

You take the saltshaker from her, making a show of curling your pink tongue as you licked salt from your wrist. You swallowed the shot of tequila with ease, years of drinking with Jinx meant tequila was basically like water to you now. Bringing the lime wedge to your lips, you teasingly rubbed it against your plump lower lip before biting into it with a salacious moan.

Ambessa isn’t the only one in the club watching your little game with keen interest. You’re too busy flirting with Ambessa, failing to notice Sevika’s eyes on you, her expression positively murderous.

Ambessa’s eyes were dark with lust. “Would you like to dance, sweet girl?”

#my writing #sevika arcane #arcane #arcane fanfic #sevika fanfic #sevika x reader #lesbian #jinx arcane #choke play #shameless smut #sevika brainrot #sevika x you

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leletha-jann · 7 months ago

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Headcanon unrelated to current comic events (everyone has Dreen theories right now)

In the future, it becomes known that Agatha Heterodyne's Spark was, for the first part of her life, suppressed by a wearable Mechanism. We know that fact is in university textbooks, after all... And because Sparks Are Just Like That, people try to replicate it.

This is, to say the least, not a good idea. No one else is Barry Heterodyne. Most of the Sparks who try cause serious damage to the potentially Sparky children they try their devices on. You'd think people would get a clue, but...Sparks. Sparks think "oh, but that inferior hack who barely deserves to be my rival did it wrong, obviously, I can do better!"

It is one of the things that, in the post-canon, Triumvirate-ruled Wulfenbach Empire, gets you shot on sight.

(Outside the Empire, it gets you wrapped up in the local equivalent of a high-security bow and sold to the Empire to be shot on sight. Both Gil and Tarvek have been known to undersell valuable trade/security treaties because they really want to shoot that guy. It's a known if minor weakness in their diplomatic prowess, which their neighbors are happy to exploit when possible.)

(And it's still considered the merciful option, because if they don't shoot the guy, Agatha is going to get her hands on him.)

The Triumvirate takes such things personally. They have kids by this point. There was never any doubt that the kids would break through, but boy, were the three of them really paranoid about locket-type mechanisms for a while.

Triumvirate kids get warned about accepting jewelry from people with the fervency of razor-blades-in-Halloween-candy scares. Each of them has a secret pattern of imperfections on all their sigil pins and other wearable things, that only they know, so that no accessory they ever own is replaced or altered without their knowledge.

No more Spark-suppressing, brain-strangling mechanisms. Ever.

#girl genius #headcanon #postcanon worldbuilding #agatha's locket #ot3 #ot3 politics in action

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sc0tters · 1 year ago

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Addicted | Luke Hughes

summary: when Alex and Trevor decide to voice their feelings about you it causing Luke to reevaluate his own.

song: Kiss Me - Ed Sheeran

request: yes/no

warnings: mention of underaged drinking, slight bit of swearing.

word count: 2.03k

authors note: this song has been calling my name since I put it on the playlist, and let me just saw that I’m not upset in the slightest. This picture of Luke made me laugh so much that I had to put it in. If you want to check out the rest of the celly you can do so here!

Luke had been in love with you for years.

Thoughts of you consumed his mind from the moment he woke up until the moment he went to sleep. His heart rate would increase and his palms would grow sweaty as he watched you run across campus before you’d tackle him into a bear hug even though you saw him the day before. Every time you were in a more revealing outfit he’d stumble on his words like he had never spoken English before. Every year it was like half of his brain cells never made it to the lake house as all he could do was watch in awe as you’d walk around in shorts and your bikini tops.

But it was fine because you felt the same way as Luke.

The first time you realised this was after a ballet recital of yours when you were six and somehow Ellen convinced all three of her sons to come and Luke said that your tutu was pretty on you.

It like your whole world combusted in that moment as your semi toothless grin joined the conversation “you think so pookie?”

“I know so sparky.” Luke was never one to shy away from complimenting you and it made you swear he only did it to screw with you. The way your cheeks turned crimson red as you’d chew as the inside of your cheeks trying to hold in the inevitable squeal of joy at the compliment.

All of the scales seemed to increase when you went off to college, your friendship grew stronger as you remained his number one supporter, your love for him grew deeper as his eyes never left you at parties because other girls were never what he wanted. Clearly since everyone else could see this you would should have as well, right?

Wrong.

Totally absolutely positively wrong.

His love for you could have been written in big pieces of card in front of your face and it might as well have been like you were reading another language because you wouldn’t have believed it. The same thing went for Luke, every guy you turned down never made him feel more confident. In fact it usually made him feel worse.

You had the most athletic players flirting with you, the start football and baseball players all weren’t good enough for you. So what was to say that some hockey player would be what you wanted?

Luke was usually a confident man, he got that from being around Jack that it became a learnt trait. Yet you seemed to make him feel like a normal kid again. There was no need for the title of being drafted, or for his family name. To you he was just Luke or your pookie and it slowly ate up at him.

Just like every other year July meant it was lake house time. It was the third day of the trip and it was hotter than ever, literally the sun was scorching and you were out soaking it all up. Your bikini was the smallest one in your closet and it avoid the tan lines your top string was undone as your stomach lay on your towel.

Luke had been enjoying the sight he really was, your feet occasionally bounced as you had your favourite songs blaring through your AirPods and it was a sight that made his mouth water.

But when Trevor and Alex walked back in from the porch and started talking about you it caused the youngest Hughes boys mood to turn for the worse.

Trevor shook his head as he grabbed a drink from the fridge “I don’t know how you haven’t made a move yet Hughesy,” he confessed as he cracked the cap of the bottle open.

Alex nodded in agreement “huh?” Luke furrowed his eyebrows as he knew that they were talking about you.

The Ducks player smiled “y/n is out of this world,” he pointed out as none of the older boys were stupid, you were a pretty girl and they all knew it.

Except Trevor was the only one who ever let you know about it, the constant flirting that came from his lips during this lake house trip. It seemed you being over the age of eighteen let you move away from the title of only being Luke’s friend.

Words of warning wanting to tell Trevor to fuck off were desperate to leave Luke’s mouth yet they couldn’t as you walked into the living room.

An oblivious smile formed on your face “what are y’all talking about?” You asked as you reached into the fridge to grab the container of cut up mango that you had made earlier that morning.

Trevor let his outstretched hand reach into the container as he took a piece “just about going for a ride on the boat later,” he lied as his eyes never left your mouth as some of the fruit juice dribbled down your chin landing on your bikini top “hope there is room for me on that boat,” there always was room for you but you were enjoying flirting with Trevor.

Sure you weren’t attracted to him like that but he certainly wasn’t harsh on your eyes “for you sparky? Always.” The nickname was one that you had picked up when you were five, you learnt what electric currents were when you found two wires in Quinn’s room and decided to place them together. The eldest Hughes couldn’t help but laugh when he walked in to see how your eyes lit up like you were in a candy store.

Luke scrunched his nose at the smile you sent the ducks player as you continued you eat your mango but when you pushed your hair behind your ears letting your chest now be on full display the Hughes boy could no longer take it “put this on,” he mumbled as he held out his baseball jersey.

You furrowed your eyebrows as you looked white fabric “okay?” You shrugged as you took the Tigers home jersey and slotted your arms into it.

But that didn’t seem to be enough for Luke as he came over to you and began to button the buttons up “Luke!” You groaned saying exactly what Alex and Trevor were thinking as they sent the boy a glare “perfect,” Luke smiled as he softly pulled your hair out of the jersey letting it lay flat behind your back.

His dagger eyes were sent to both Alex and Trevor the entire day, even on the boat when Quinn was teaching you to drive it and even when you were on Luke’s lap.

“Am I missing something?”

Your question pulled Luke out of his thoughts as he looked at you “what?” He asked as he let his fingers draw over your leg.

It irritated you as you could see that something seemed to be going on between Luke and the two older boys “you seem mad at them,” you sighed as your lips formed into a pout.

Sure it might have been childish to be upset but Luke usually told you everything “it’s nothing,” he shook his head causing your fingers to grip at your can of seltzer.

Yet your pokes didn’t go quiet like he’d hoped “Luke-” your soft words were only met with a glare “just drop it okay?” His complaint was only met with your wide eyes.

Thankfully at that time you were in need of a new drink. So you got up to get yourself a refill.

The boys watched in amusement as you walked back into the house “you really fucked that one up Lukey,” Trevor teased only adding to the boys anger.

Luke clenched his fist “you need to shut the fuck up dude!” He warned as he got up as he pointed his finger at the older boy.

It seemed like this was all bubbling up over today “just go ahead all to her,” Quinn’s voice was soft as he knew that you were on his brothers mind.

The youngest Hughes boy took a large gulp as he remembered that he had lashed out at you first.

Your head remained in the fridge as you looked at the different options for drinks.

The cool air on your face made you grow calm. It was soothing as you tried to not cry, you knew you were overreacting but all of Luke’s actions today seemed to weigh up on you in this never ending battle that you had created based on the feelings you felt towards the boy. Your thoughts were pulled away from your brain as the sound of the glass sliding door shut.

You turned around and was already faced with Luke “Jesus Christ!” You cursed as you clenched your chest.

Luke’s face softened as he looked at you “sorry,” he apologised as he crossed his arms.

He wanted to reach out to hug you “why are you so mad at them?” You asked as you watched the hockey player pick at the bracelet on his wrist.

All of the explanations that went through his mind all didn’t sound valid “it’s stupid,” that was the honest truth, he knew he was over reacting but that didn’t make it any less irritating to deal with.

You scoffed as you sat on the counter “that never stopped you from telling me,” you pointed out as most nights were spent with Luke in your bed laying his bed on your chest as you combed your fingers through his hair.

The way your lips were plump and your cheeks were tinted with a hint of red from the sun that had landed on in them made you look so very kissable.

But Luke remained stood where he was “they think you’re hot,” he explained with his voice barely a whisper as though he was ashamed to admit to it.

Your laugh made him feel better “do they now?” It was a clear stroke to your ego as you watched the boy grow embarrassed.

It shouldn’t have been nearly as amusing as it was “you thinking I’ve got a new best friend to get?” You joked causing him to furrow his eyebrows with annoyance.

Luke situated himself between your legs “‘ts not funny,” he mumbled as he rested his head on your shoulder.

A smile found its way onto your face “it’s pretty funny,” you nodded as you hooked your fingers under his jaw forcing him to look at you.

Your eyes were soft as they studied every feature on his face as though it was the first time you’d seen his face “it doesn’t matter if they think I’m hot,” you explained as you watched his face grow confused “only matter if it comes from a guy who hasn’t even said it.” You added as your tongue darted between your lips.

The hockey remained as clueless as ever when you let your thumb run along his jaw “who?” He was almost asking because he needed to finally hear that dose of reality of who it was that went through you mind in the way you went through his.

A moment of silence was heard so loud that a penny dropping wouldn’t even be noticed “looking right at him.” You confessed causing his eyes to widen.

It was like he was at a crossroads as the ball was now in his court. Truly nothing went through his mind as he was desperate to find the right course of action. The girl he had loved for all of these years, the girl he had longed for to be more than just friends, the girl was you and here you were with all of your cards out waiting for him.

Yet there he was frozen in time.

Again it seemed like it was your turn once more. So you leaned forward as you kissed him, it was brain meltingly perfect. Like that moment you do something that feels so good it makes your brain all hazy, like that.

Luke pulled away with his smile as his finger ran over your lips “what’s got you all smiley?” You asked as you cocked your head.

“I got the girl of my dreams.”

#luke hughes x reader #ambers 150 celly #luke hughes x you #luke hughes imagines #luke hughes oneshot #nhl imagine #hockey imagine #hockey imagines #nhl oneshot #imagines #oneshots #amber writes fics

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sweet-honey-tears · 2 years ago

Text

If They Where Dads

Fluff head cannons! 🤍

Gender neutral reader. Kinda sounds like reader gave births but I kinda figured it’s either adoption or a quirk that can combine dna. Idk.

Feel free to leave request for other characters!

Daycare pick up head cannon

Aged up of course!!

💥Katsuki Bakugou💥

“She's beautiful”

“Daddy’s gonna buy you the fucking world.”

Big red eyes stared back as tiny hands gripped scared calloused fingers.

He would teach his kids sign language incase he ever does lose his hearing.

Is the type of dad that just carries the baby because fuck the stroller and shit- he’s a walking one that can also rock the little monster to sleep.

Will call the baby ‘Mini SpitFire’ and ‘Adorable Monster’(better than dumbass)

Will sign his daughter(and future kid- aka his baby boy) up for karate

And if his kid doesn’t have a quirk, he’s going to sign them up for a bunch of self-defense classes. He wants to protect them from people like him growing up.

Your phone Lock Screen is a picture of your toddler mid-sprint to the door as Katsuki is crouched with arms wide open. He had just gotten off a patrol, his hair mused and masked pushed up. His gauntlets pushed to the side. His face was dirty and stained. But his smile was huge and little tears are in his eyes from seeing his little mini spitfire come running to him.

“Don’t post that”

“But Kat-“

“No”

Can't let the public know king explosion murder is a big old softy. No, that is only for his family.

🦈Eijiro Kirishima🦈

Dude freaked out when he found out it’s gonna be twins- girls a matter of fact’ As babies, he’d put them in little shark onesies and then put on his own.

Your Lock Screen is a picture of your two beautiful twin girls in these little onesies and your Home Screen is Pro Hero Red Riot in a large Great White Shark onesie holding his two lovely(in shark onesies) twin girls in each of his arms. A big, proud, sharp smile stretched on his face.

He is the kind of dad to strap one of the girls to his chest, the other girl you have strapped to yours. There is totally a picture on the fridge of you two like that.

Would call his girls:

“Little riot, stop pulling your sister's hair!”

“Sharky, you shouldn’t be up there!”

The girls will call you Mama Papa, or Sharky Shark. (So- MommaShark! SharkyShary or ShaSha!) They call Kiri Daddy Shark.

The girls have shark plushies, cat ones, and so many plushies! One of the girls’ favorites, when they were toddlers, was a Red Riot plush. They’d hold it so damn tight whenever Kiri had to leave on a long mission.

They call the Bakuquad the following when they are very young:

Uncle Bak-uh-dough

Unky Serooooo

Aunty Mina

Unk Donkey or Denks (purely because Denki will make a goofy face when they say it)

Also, I think Testu would still pop by and the girl would call him Test.

⚡️Denki⚡️

Would freak the fuck out when he finds out but also be so excited

Will call the baby “Sparky!” And bakugou will say it sounds like you're calling a dog-

⚡️“ but you use to call me stuff like that-“

“Yeah I know”

⚡️“ but you said it sounds like a dog-“

“Yup”

Bakuogou felt a light hit to the back of his head. You walk past him while holding your/Denki’s baby. He just laughs. What? You’d think he’d do or say something to a woman holding a baby. Fuck no.

There’s a picture on your phone of Denki holding your baby, who is fast asleep, with rubber gloves on his hands. He’s being incredibly careful now. Wearing rubber gloves to ensure he never accidentally sparks the baby. He keeps getting excited every time he sees you two. That’s your Home Screen FWI.

The baby does have a Pikachu onesie. And a hat with the ear sticking up. As well as a Pokeball pillow(Mina got them for Christmas)

I feel like Shinso stops over a lot too. Like these guys are really good friends in the future.

“Uncle Shin!”

“Hey there Spark” he would totally gift the baby little cat stuffed animals and cat hairpins.

▪️🔸Sero🔸▪️

Sero would be surprised but stay chill.

Sero would call his baby girl:

“Hermosa (beautiful) you gotta wake up. We have to get ready for school”

Would teach his daughter Spanish(assuming you also know it too)

The girl's room is decorated with plants and cute food tapestries. There would definitely be one of those egg nest swings in the room(the ones above ground and hanging from the wall). He would hold the baby and rock them to sleep in it.

I feel like the baby would have a really cute, soft, cartoon ‘spider’ plush. But it’s not even really a spider- but a blob with a ‘:3’ face and eight legs. Totally has cat ears. Sero found it one day and was like ‘yup, that’s coming home’.

You couldn’t stop laughing when you saw it, you frickin love it.

Sero brings home the cutest but most random stuffed animals and toys. Ones that are just funny and adorable but make no fucking sense.

At an older age, Sero would definitely play with his daughter via his quirk. Your lock Screen is a picture of your daughter hanging upside down, her ‘spider’ plush hanging in her hand.

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sentientgolfball · 9 months ago

Note

hello, may I ask for:

¹²⁾ “no underwear?”

with Dew and Swiss? Maybe feminization, Dew wearing a skirt, if you are okay with it? >:)

You said Dew in a skirt and I blacked out

Swiss has been staring at Dew all night. Really all of them have, but Swiss was the most obvious. Can you blame him though and Dew looks like that?

The pack had decided they had enough lazy days after returning from tour, so they threw on their glamours and hit the town for a night of bar hopping. When Dew walked into the common area where everyone was gathered waiting to leave they almost didn’t make it outside. He was in a skin tight, short little black dress. His hair was down with just the smallest bit of Infernal magick streaming out of his glamour to make it seem like it was glowing. The dress was strapless with the back cutout. His eyes raked over everyone with the smallest knowing smirk.

“So are we going or what?”

They were already at their third bar of the night. Some shitty little concert club Swiss couldn’t remember the name of. He could barely remember his own name with the way he’s captivated watching Dew dance with Rain. It was unfair how gorgeous Dew looked. It was unfair that Rain was the one who has been glued to him the entire night. Swiss nearly growled watching Rain’s had grab Dew’s waist, traveling down and around to drag to the tips of his fingers down Dew’s spine. Dew leaned into the touch, back to chest, and looked up at him with half lidded eyes.

“Careful there Sparky” Cirrus nudges him, amusement in her voice.

“Huh? What?”

Cirrus stares at him waiting for him to get it. The longer he looks at her with confusion the more he starts to notice it. He sighs with a groan and works on strengthening his glamour, hiding the claws and fangs that had begun to slip out.

“Good boy” she pats his cheek “we can’t keep having incidents or they’ll never let us leave again.”

“I find it insulting you’d think I’d pull a Rain.”

“We sent you into the bathroom to go take care of a murder scene and instead you had sex can you blame me?”

“Hey to be fair I had sex and helped Rain clean it up. I was summoned to multitask, baby.”

Cirrus rolls her eyes but there’s a grin on her face as she takes a sip of her drink. Swiss returns his attention to the two dancing ghouls and almost wishes he hadn’t. Rain has Dew pulled against him, one hand around his waist the other around his neck. Rain had his lips to his ear as the two grind against each other. That was the last straw for Swiss. He jumped out of his seat and made his way over to them. Dew held eye contact with him the whole way. Rain glared at him when he was close enough to speak to them over the loud music.

“Mind if I have a turn with our lovely Spitfire, Rainy?”

If looks could kill, Swiss would be a dead man. His hold on Dew tightened.

“Aw come on Rainy baby don’t you know sharing is caring?”

“Who said I cared?” Rain glares at him before kissing down Dew’s neck.

Swiss steps closer with a grin on his face “Getting a little bold are we?”

“Care to find out?”

“Alright you two cut the shit no one needs to pull a Mountain” Dew wiggles out of Rain’s grasp. Rain scowls at him.

“Come on rainstorm it won’t kill you to let me play with Swiss for a bit. Besides, you have to make good on those promises when we get back” Dew pats him on the cheek with a wide grin.

Rain just scoffs, pulls him in for a quick filthy kiss, and walks off to the booth the pack claimed when they arrived. They watch him go before Dew crowds into Swiss’ space.

“What now Sparky? You got me all to yourself.”

Swiss immediately wraps his hand around Dew’s wrist, dragging him to the nearest bathroom. Swiss locks the door once they’re inside before bending down to suck a mark over the spot Rain kissed. Dew laughs and tilts his head back to give him more room to work.

“Real fucking excited aren’t ya?”

“You have no fucking idea Spitfire.”

Swiss takes a step forward, causing Dew to be pushed against the door. The fire ghoul thread his hands through his hair and hooks one legs over his hip. Swiss uses the new angle to his advantage, running his hand up Dew’s thigh before slipping under the hem of his dress. He gasps.

“No underwear?”

“Didn’t want lines” Dew shrugs.

“UhHuh that’s the reason.”

Dew laughs and grinds his hips forward against Swiss’ hand. The multi ghoul brings Dew into a filthy kiss as he grabs at Dew’s cock, stroking him fully hard. Teeth clack together as Swiss makes an effort to shove his tongue down his throat. Swiss brings his other hand around to Dew’s back. He pets gently over the exposed skin for only a moment before dipping before the hem to slide a finger between his cheeks.

Dew lets go of his hold on Swiss to pull the dress up to bunch around his hips. Swiss gives him a look.

“What? This shit was expensive, I'm not ruining it.”

“Oh I’ll ruin something.”

Swiss latches onto Dew’s neck, sucking and nibbling where his gill scars would be under the glamour. He probes his finger against Dew’s asshole, huffing out a laugh when he feels wetness. He continues slowly stroking his dick as he slides the tip of his finger inside of Dew. He groans into Swiss’ neck before licking up the column of his throat to taste his mixed elemental flavor. There’s an underlying taste of whiskey and spice that Dew can’t get enough of. Dew sighs when he feels Swiss curl the finger that’s inside of him. Swiss slips a second finger into him and Dew keens, biting into the side of his neck.

“Good fucking girl” Swiss thrusts his fingers in and out of Dew.

He laughs when he feels his cock kick in the hand, blurting a glob of pre into his fist.

“Shit you’re so pretty Spitfire. Need you to get all dolled up like this more.”

Swiss strokes him faster, content to feel him clench around his fingers with every twist of his fist over his head. Dew groans when he feels him slipping a third finger into his ass. His hips twitch forward, fucking into Swiss’ fist with each downward stroke.

“Cum for me. Be a good girl and cum” Swiss frantically pressed kisses into Dew’s skin.

Dew groans “When have I ever been a good girl?”

Swiss thrusts his fingers into Dew, curling inside of him and that’s all it takes. Dew bites Swiss’ shoulder with a grunt, spilling hot into his hand. Swiss licks and kisses every part of skin he can get his mouth on until Dew’s legs stop shaking. He takes one more deep inhale of his campfire and cinnamon scent before pulling away. He grins at Dew before bringing his hands to his mouth, cleaning his slick and his cum from his fingers with a moan.

Dew takes a moment to catch his breath, smoothing out his hair and his dress.

“You know Mount’s gonna go ballistic when you walk back out there smelling like me.”

“Well at the very least it won’t end with another code murder” Swiss laughs “but I think he’ll be distracted by another scent.”

Dew raises his eyebrow at Swiss, scanning over his face until it hits him like a truck.

“No fucking way. You didn’t” Dew laughs.

“You’re the one who decided to wear a slutty little black dress” Swiss shrugs.

“Oh Mounty is definitely gonna lose his fucking mind” Dew palms the front of Swiss’ pants, making shudder with the feeling of his cum before spread around.

“Now if you’ll excuse me I need to go entertain a water ghoul” Dew gives him a quick kiss before leaving the bathroom.

#the band ghost #nameless ghouls #ghost bc #the band ghost fic #dewdrop ghoul #swiss ghoul #swiss x dewdrop #golfball writes

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bloodstainedsaint · 1 year ago

Text

rumors and gossip (ronald speirs x nurse! reader smut)

summary: (takes place around episodes 2 and 3) ronald speirs has trouble expressing his feelings towards you. when he catches wind that you're spreading rumors about him, he gets upset and doesn't exactly know why. but there's only one way he knows how to solve this issue: through action.

word count: 3100+

warnings: SELF-INDULGENT SMUT, reader has female genitalia, abuse of authority (read: speirs likes getting called by his title), degradation, praise, spitting, unprotected sex ("remember boys...flies spread disease, so keep yours closed!"), spanking, rough p in v sex, facefucking, fingering, orgasm denial, mentions speirs being taller than reader for like one second, SOFT SPEIRS AT THE END BC HE HAS A LIL CRUSH

notes: i see your soft speirs and i love him too, but i raise you mean dom speirs (both can exist at once). also i'm sorry in advance

Ronald Speirs didn't know what to make of you.

You, the pretty nurse he kept staring at whenever he’d catch a glimpse of you around base. You, who he often observed diligently treating the many men that came under your care. You, who sometimes met his gaze from across the post with a bashful smile before turning away.

One could say that within Ron, something was brewing towards you. Something that made his heart skip a beat in a manner he hadn't expected war to allow at all. As of recently, however, you began to elicit different feelings in him.

Ron was well-aware of all the rumors and gossip being spread about him. He wasn't oblivious to the fearful way the men looked at him, or, rather, preferred to not look at him. The more people who viewed him as a mean son of a bitch the better, he thought. So he let them circulate without much care, with only a dead glare that reinforced them.

When he heard that you were helping pass on those rumors, telling anyone in need of a good story about how Ronald Speirs, or as he had heard, “Lieutenant Sparky”, had heartlessly killed German POWs after offering them smokes or how he put down one of his own men for being drunk on duty— he was upset. This mystified him: why was he annoyed (or was troubled a better word for his feelings?) when you gossiped and not when any of his men did? It couldn't be that he secretly yearned for your approval; that seemed foolish, too unlike himself…but then again, you made him feel unlike himself on several occasions before.

Ron was a man of action, and he was going to ensure you induced no more bothersome feelings within him by simply giving you something to gossip about.

It was late at night when you found yourself alone in the medical station. Every wounded soldier had been relocated to another facility either on base or out of it entirely for some reason or another, leaving you with a number of empty hospital beds and an entire station to yourself. You had told the other nurses to pack in for the night and that you would tidy up by yourself; you didn't mind having something to do while it was finally tranquil in the hospital.

While you replaced bedsheets, you remembered Ronald Speirs glowering at you earlier that day, rather than his usual intense, unreadable stare. You hoped it wasn't because he found out that you were spreading rumors about him, but you suspected it was; really, you had overheard a Private Malarkey talking about Speirs’ supposed actions to a fellow soldier he was visiting, and several more soldiers had told you similar stories about Speirs as you tended to them. When your other patients asked you if you had heard anything juicy, what else were you supposed to tell them?

Behind you was a click of the door opening and closing and a gush of wind, nearly imperceptible enough to keep you in your musing. Expecting to see another nurse or perhaps a soldier who had somehow gotten himself injured in the middle of the night, you turned around and felt your eyebrows raise when you saw the man in question, half-shrouded in darkness by how the moonlight fell upon him.

Still dressed in his fatigues, he stalked over to you with slow, steady steps. He towered over your form, his eyes almost completely covered in the shadow beneath his helmet. The slightest glint you could see of them was cold, and you could almost feel his leer pierce through you. You had never realized his height from all those times you saw him from afar; you’d noticed his good looks instead, though you never wanted to admit that to yourself. Not about the soldier you were spreading such heinous rumors about.

“Lieutenant Speirs?” Your words came out more unsure than you would've liked. You didn’t even know why you were nervous; it's not like you'd done anything particularly wrong— nothing that dozens of men weren’t also doing as well. “Do you need me for something?”

A suffocating silence pervaded the room. For the moment that he didn't respond, instead fixing you with a stony glare, your heart stopped beating in anticipation. You half-expected him to materialize a gun and shoot you on the spot until he finally broke the silence and said blandly, “I've heard you've been spreading rumors about me.”

When you didn’t answer immediately, he stepped closer to you. Willing yourself not to flinch away, you could now fully see the cruel look in his eyes; it didn't help your uneven breathing or your clenched heart.

“Have you?”

You blanched, mouth going dry. “...Yes, sir.”

He tilted his head, carrying on in that unemotional yet somehow soft tone. “Our good little nurse is the one gossiping, huh? That right?”

You furrowed your eyebrows. Good little nurse? “I, uh—”

“Answer me,” he demanded, his voice hardening. His calloused fingers reached for you, clenching your cheeks so tight together that your jaw could not move to form words. You slurred your words like a drunk trying to give an intelligible answer.

“Pathetic,” he scoffed. Your eyes widened, and, shamefully, you felt heat rush to your core. Speirs noticed your surprise, and you were sure you weren't hallucinating a small smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

“You wanna tell me what you've been saying about me, nurse?”

You could only mumble in response. “What, too scared to say it in front of Sparky himself? I heard you were running your mouth earlier, though.”

You shook your head and uselessly struggled in his unyielding grasp. Bastard.

Gazing down at you for another tense heartbeat, Speirs let go of your face and took off his helmet, placing it on a nearby metal table and revealing his slightly tousled hair. “Get on your knees. Let’s put that mouth to good use.”

Your blood went cold, yet your body felt hot. You must've looked shocked because he sighed and looked at you expectantly.

“Well? Don't keep an officer waiting.”

You blinked dumbly. He gave a command. Who were you to disobey? You thought as you sunk down to your knees, your skirt acting as a barrier between your skin and the rough floor.

“That's what I like to see.” He began unbuckling and unzipping his pants before pulling out his erect member, standing tall, girthy, and swollen at the tip. Your mouth watered at the sight.

Again, you hesitated, looking up at him in disbelief at what was happening. You never expected to be kneeling in front of Ronald Speirs; maybe in the darkest recesses of your mind you fantasized about the Lieutenant doing whatever he pleased to you, but you never expected it to actually happen.

“Nurse, open your mouth now before I take your face and start fucking it.”

You clenched your thighs at the thought, opening your mouth to take his cock in it. You kissed the tip and licked a stripe from the base to the end before slowly enveloping it with your mouth. Ron shuddered at the feeling and put his hand in your hair, petting it with a whispered curse —perhaps he had thought about this exact scenario as much as you had?

You continued to swallow his cock whole as his hand tightened in your hair. You whimpered at the sensation, sending vibrations to his member. He stuttered your name out in response.

As you sped up your steady pace, you looked up at him from underneath your eyelashes, watching as he lost his composure, his chest heaving. “Shit…that's my girl. You're even prettier with your mouth full of my dick. Can't yak as much, can you, nurse?”

A moan slipped out at the unexpected praise, and you let your legs part as you slipped your hands between them and rubbed yourself through your soaked panties, adrenaline coursing through your veins. When Ron’s eyes focused themselves again, he caught the movement and his eyes darkened, no longer glazed over.

“Who said you could touch yourself, nurse?” he gritted out, as if his cock didn't twitch in your mouth at the sight of you pleasuring yourself. The hand in your hair clenched into a fist, but that didn't discourage you; instead, your hand went faster as he started pulling your mouth off his cock and slamming it back in at a punishing rate. You felt drool trickling down your chin, your throat burning. You greedily breathed in air during the brief respites he granted you before brutally shoving his dick down your throat.

When your eyes stopped rolling to the back of your head, you took in his disheveled state and rubbed yourself faster. His hair messy from running his hand through it, his face and a sliver of his chest gleaming with sweat, his barely suppressed deep groans. He looked heavenly compared to his actions.

Abruptly, you were pulled off his cock and placed on your back on the metal table next to his helmet. He hurriedly unbuttoned your nurse uniform, damn near ripping your clothes off of you and throwing them carelessly next to you, until you were bare before him. The cold table chilled your spine, and you arched your back into his wandering hands. In your lust-filled daze, you managed an indignant thought of how unfair it was that you were the only one naked, that his body was being left up to the imagination.

“You ready for me, girl?” He rubbed your clit in tight circles, better than you could've done yourself and better than you could've ever imagined at night, before gauging your wetness with two long fingers plunged deep into your heat.

“That wet from a little roughness?” he smirked. “Our little nurse isn't so innocent after all. Maybe that's why you spread all those rumors about me. You wanted this.”

“N-no, sir—” You gasped, cut short as his fingers quickly found that spongy place within you. You cried out for air as he relentlessly pressed against it with every movement. “That’s, mmh, not true…”

“Can’t understand you, nurse. Can you repeat that?” He said, voice tinged with smug amusement.

Closing your eyes tight, you could only whimper in pitiful reply as you felt the knot in your stomach tighten. So close to the precipice of sweet release, you could almost feel yourself stepping off—

But before you could, Speirs pulled his fingers away. You eyes shot open to gape at him in irritation until you saw him slowly bring his slick-coated fingers to his lips and suck them off.

“Did you really think I'd let a little gossiping whore like you come so easily?” He fixed you with a remorseless, sadistic look. You panted, desperation festering within you as he forced your mouth open and spat in it. “Now swallow, and I'll fuck you like you deserve it, nurse.”

You swallowed obediently, yearning for his cock inside you. In an uncharacteristic display of softness, he pressed his lips to yours and whispered against them, “Good girl,” before switching back to the Speirs you knew and roughly flipping your body over so you were bent over the metal table, your tits flush with the frigid surface and your ass on full display to the Lieutenant.

Speirs took a moment to run his hands over your body, grabbing and squeezing at the flesh of your breasts, ass, and thighs, spreading your juices around your sensitive pussy as you tried to wiggle away, overstimulated. Holding your hips so you wouldn't move, he grinded his dick against your heat and teased your hole, his precum mixing with yours. Just as you were about to whine for him to stop teasing and fuck you already, he seemed to grown impatient himself because he slid into you in one fluid motion, punching the air out of your lungs and forcing your walls to stretch around him and accommodate his size.

“Fuck, so tight for me,” he grunted out, his voice hoarse as if it had taken away his breath as well. After a moment of heavy breathing and a squeeze of your hips, he began brutally pummeling into you. You unabashedly let out a high-pitched moan at the pace, and you felt his cock throb inside of you as his name left your lips.

“Quiet, nurse. You want the whole base to know?” he said, out of breath, “Guess that'll give you another story to tell about me, yeah?”

You wanted to rebut this, saying that the lewd slapping noises of skin on skin that filled the room were probably spilling out through the thin walls of the station anyway. Instead, you heaved a breathy, “Yes, Lieutenant,” that had him growling and picking up the pace, your body moving with every thrust. He took your hands, which until then were gripping the table for dear life, and held them together at the wrist with one of his.

The hand still gripping your hip was so firm you felt it was going to leave bruises in the morning. The more pressing issue, though, was how you were going to walk the next day.

“All you needed was some good dick in you to shut you up, huh? What a dirty girl,” he groaned as you clenched around him, “And here I thought you were all innocent, nurse. You wanted this, didn't you? Say it.”

Your cheeks burned red out of embarrassment, and you floundered for words. “N-no, Ron, that’s not—”

You were interrupted by the resounding smack of his hand colliding with your ass and the stinging pain that brought tears to your eyes. Your hands twitched in his grasp.

“When you talk to an officer, you say ‘sir’. Understood?”

“Y-yes, sir,” you breathed out, and he tenderly rubbed the aching skin of your ass, calling you a good girl as he resumed pounding into you. Your heart ached at the praise.

In your fucked-out state where all you could focus on were Speirs’ deep grunts and his cock inside of you, you felt yourself getting pulled by your hair until you were mostly standing with your back pressed against his well-built, sturdy stomach. One arm closed in on your neck so that your throat was in the crook of his elbow while the other hand roamed around your body, pinching and kneading as it went, until it settled at groping your breasts.

The new angle allowed him to thrust deeper into you, so deep that you could almost feel him in your throat. Tears that had welled up in your eyes freely fell thanks to the restriction of air. When his hand moved downward from your breasts to your lower stomach, pressing down upon it, the pressure and fullness of his dick inside you intensified. You could tell you were ready to freefall from that peak again as your breath hitched with every thrust, walls clamping down around him. From the increasingly erratic rhythm of his thrusts, you could tell he was there with you.

Then, for the umpteenth time that night, Ronald Speirs surprised you. His mouth became a stream of praise and words of adoration, like you were some kind of angel and this was his altar, while his lips possessively decorated your neck and shoulders with dark marks you were sure you wouldn't be able to hide.

“Fuck, you were made for me, weren't you, sweetheart? You're, hah, so beautiful when you're under me. So perfect. My pretty little nurse.”

His soft words in his husky tone, though they threw you for a loop and definitely required your attention when you were back to thinking straight, sent you into the sweet release of your climax. He swallowed your pleasured scream with his lips on yours, gently bruising your lips with the passion of his kiss. You had no idea Ronald Speirs could be so tender and so dominant at once.

The sporadic clenching of your walls around him led him to his orgasm, and he bit into your neck with a low, long groan as he filled you with his warm release. Your body went limp against his, held up only by his arms around your torso. After the two of you regained your breath, he pulled out, and you quietly whimpered at the sudden emptiness. He carefully laid you down with your back to the metal table, tucked himself into his pants, zipped and buckled them, and looked around, searching for a towel to wipe yourselves off.

“The towels, uh, are over there.” You pointed in the direction of the cloth. “You can run some water over them in that sink, if you want.”

He nodded wordlessly and followed your directions while you laid there, thinking about tonight's events and wondering if maybe you had dreamed it all after a late night of cleaning up.

You were broken out of your reverie by a glass of water being placed next to you and a warm, damp cloth gingerly wiping the insides of your thighs and your privates. Speirs didn't dare to look at your face as he did so. Once he was finished, he looked around again for a place to discard the used towel. You laughed, saying, “I'll take care of it, sir.”

He set the towel down on the table. “Do you,” he started, but then paused, glancing at your still bare form and your flushed face, realizing how intimate this had become, “need help getting dressed?”

“I'll be fine, sir,” you said with a tired smile, “I know my way around some clothes.”

He nodded again, more to himself than in response to you, and picked up his helmet. The moonlight now illuminated all of his face, revealing the red that had risen to his cheeks, whether out of exertion or, if you were interpreting this right, shyness. He now made eye contact, his gaze decidedly gentler than when he walked in. “Goodnight, Nurse (Y/N).”

“Goodnight, Lieutenant.”

His eyes lingered for a second, his expression the same as the ones he would hit you with from across the base, before he turned, lit a cigarette, and left into the night.

Watching his retreating form and the smoke cloud dissipate behind him, you shook your head and pondered his strange deviation from the Speirs you knew, or who you thought you knew. As you got dressed and prepared to clean up the mess the two of you made, you came to the conclusion that maybe Ronald Speirs is more than the ruthless man the myths had made him out to be.

Maybe Lieutenant Sparky had a heart after all.

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