#swung. litterer

[canyonroads]

I'm litterally so depressed and idk how to keep going lol

[raspberry-gloaming]

My head is filled with election waiting stress so now it's like hmm who would my favourite characters vote for.

[criminalamnesia]

Simon x Reader whose already work with TF 141 for a pretty long time. And one day, there's a traitor around the base, leaking their information. All of the proof are leading to reader but reader always deny it! And they interrogated reader, and reader always deny it! And he's (with other 141 members, of course, but it mostly him) do their torture methods to get information out of reader. They keep doing it until someday, the real traitor finally captured!

And make the reader traumatized, pls. Like, she would have trust issues, trauma, and others. She wouldn't forgive them, tho.

ooooo the angst. had to sit on this one for a few days before I wrote something, but here goes nothing.

ALL PARTS CAN BE FOUND HERE

when you blink open your eyes, the room is dimly lit. it’s silent save for the sounds of your labored breathing.

you must’ve passed out. one second johnny— a man you’d known for years—was slicing into your skin with a knife. the next, you’re staring into an empty room.

your hands jerk up involuntarily. still bound. the rope holding them to the arms of the chair have rubbed them raw. the skin is bright red and bloody. it makes you grit your teeth.

you look down at your lap, taking inventory of the parts of your body you can see. large gashes break up the fabric of your tac pants. the blood surrounding the deep wounds is dry and crusty.

one of the cuts looks like it’s getting infected. you swear you can see bone.

you’d taken this kind of suffering before. been capture by enemies, held and tortured and pushed to the brink of death. this was different. this was being done by your team. men you’d bled with. cried with. laughed with.

one you’d even slept with. the same one you loved. the one you called yours.

the door to the room swung open, hitting the wall with a metal thud. your head slowly lifts, eyes squinting to see him. by his stature, you know it’s simon.

he doesn’t bother shutting the door behind him. instead, he walks towards you slowly. as he comes closer, can make out his eyes in the sea of dark paint he smears around them. the same paint you’d helped him apply a time or two.

“back for more?” you say, and it’s meant to sound sarcastic, but all it sounds like is pitiful. your voice cracks, and pain seeps into your tone.

the first rule they’d taught you about scenarios like this was to never let the enemy know it’s working. never let them know that they’re hurting you— that they’re slowly wearing down your defenses.

well, you’d just broken that rule, and you hadn’t even meant to.

you didn’t know how long you’d been tied up, subjected to torture by men you had once called your family. all because a fucking liar whispered your name into their ears. all because they fucking believed it.

apparently the years meant nothing to them. to him, least of all, considering he’d done more damage to you than the rest of them.

simon comes to a stop in front of you. his hands are empty by his sides, but that’s not reassuring. there’s a table full of weapons off to the side. he would have his pick of the litter.

“ready to talk yet?” he says, and his voice is gruff. his tone is hollow. he’s speaking to you the same way he’d spoken to countless enemies. it makes you sick.

“fuck you, simon,” you spit out.

the betrayal of john, gaz, and johnny had hurt. but simon’s betrayal? that was enough to almost put you in the ground.

you’d stopped pleading with them the second they tied you to the chair. now, you were angry. furious. rage filled your veins, and if you weren’t beaten to all hell, you’d find a way out of these fucking restraints and strangle the man in front of you to death.

the man you loved. you’d thought you meant something to him, but apparently not— because who tortures someone they love?

“if you talk,” he ignores your outburst. “it’ll be easier. quick.”

“fuck. you.” you enunciate the words, your jaw impossibly tight as you grit your teeth. “im not the fucking rat.”

“all the evidence,” he starts as he disappears from your vision. you know he’s going to pick his weapon of the hour. you force yourself not to shudder.

“points to you.”

“take that bullshit evidence and shove it up your ass, riley,” you seethe, ropes pulling taut as you lean forward in the chair.

he’s back in your line of sight now, brandishing a large knife.

“you’re only making it harder on yourself, love,” he tuts, and then he’s swinging the knife down, right onto one of your fingers.

you scream as the blade cuts right through skin and bone. your teeth dig into your lip, drawing blood as you refuse to give him more of a reaction. it fucking hurts, but you’ll be damned if you let yourself cry.

“feel like talking now?” he asks, watching as half of your left pinky finger falls to the floor.

“or should we take off another?”

you look up at him, hoping he can see the hatred in your eyes as you speak your next words. “you could take the fucking hand off and I’d still have nothing to tell you.”

“let’s see how true that is then, eh?” he replies, and raises the knife again. he’s about to swing, when someone comes running into the room.

“ghost!”

it’s johnny. he’s obviously winded as he stops beside simon, dropping his hands to his knees as he struggles for breath.

“what, mactavish? im busy.”

“they’re—” he gasps. “they’re not— the— rat.” he says between breaths.

the room goes impossibly still. so quiet you swear you could hear the men’s heartbeats (or maybe that pounding in your ears was your own).

“you sure?” simon’s voice is softer as he lowers the knife and turns to johnny. the younger man nods, his eyes trained on you. you can see the regret in them, the sorrow.

“it’s fucking shepard.”

it’s not funny, but at the news, you burst into laughter. the men stare at you in confusion, but you can’t stop.

you’re laughing so hard you’re crying, and they’re just standing there.

“are you alrigh’?” johnny’s asking as he moves towards you. he’s fully recovered his breath now, and he drops to a crouch to be eye level with you.

you don’t answer— you can’t. you keep laughing. distantly, you hear the knife simon was holding clatter to the ground. can just make out the sound of more footsteps out in the hallway, coming towards the room.

you pass out.

when you wake up again, you’re in the infirmary. your eyes open slowly, adjusting to the bright fluorescent lights.

“easy, love,” a voice to your right drawls.

your eyes are fully open now. you look down at yourself, noticing the lack of bindings. noticing the iv taped to your arm, the stitched cuts, the black and blue bruises, the missing fingernails and missing finger.

the person sitting next to you clears his throat. that’s when you look up and meet the eyes of your captain.

your captain. the man who was supposed to lead you, to keep you safe. what a fucking joke. he’d started the damn witch hunt.

“how d’you feel?” he asks, his words soft, like he’s trying not to scare off a timid animal.

you stare at him for a beat. then two. then you’re moving, pulling the iv from your arm and shakily pushing yourself up in the bed. price is telling you to stop, reaching out to push you back down, but you slap at his hands.

“get the fuck off me!” you shout, and that takes him aback. he stops, frozen, as he watches you shift in the bed. you throw your legs over the side of it and prepare yourself to stand.

“you really shouldn’t—” he begins after he’s regained his senses, but you pay him no mind. you place your feet on the ground and start to stand. your legs wobble, almost give out, but you’re able to stand. barely.

“shut up,” you growl, stumbling forward and towards the exit. he’s moving to cut you off, and you slide him a gaze that’s sharper than a knife. “and leave me the fuck alone.”

he halts again. he seems almost scared of you— but that can’t be right. even on your best days, he would still beat you in hand-to-hand combat.

he’s not scared of your threats or your frail body. he’s scared of what he’s done to you.

just then, johnny and gaz come through the infirmary doors.

“cap, y’alright? we heard yellin’—” johnny begins, but his mouth snaps shut at the sight of you out of bed.

you’re heaving from your spot next to the bed. your legs are shaking violently, threatening to give out any second. you feel nauseous and numb.

“let’s get you back into bed,” gaz says, and he starts towards you, but you stop him as your gaze snaps to his.

“don’t come any fucking closer. any of you.”

“bonnie,” johnny murmurs. he sounds miserable, but you don’t care. don’t give a fuck about how any of them feel.

“don’t. im leaving,” you grunt out, moving a foot forward slowly. you’d be damned if you fell in front of them.

“you can’t, love. you’re in no shape to be walking.” john says, and you snarl.

“and whose fault is that?”

the men stay silent as they watch you slowly shuffle towards the foot of the bed. you’re bracing yourself to walk on your own when simon walks in.

“get back in bed,” his tone is blunt. you ignore him.

you remove your hand from the bed, move to take a step forward without support, and you begin to crumple to the floor.

simon moves forward, quick as a cat, and catches you. he lifts you into his arms bridal style, and you’re screaming hysterically. your limbs are flailing the best they can in such a battered state. you’re in fight-or-flight mode, your body betraying your desire to put up a steely front.

your palms slap against simon’s upper body and his masked face. he gives no reaction. he doesn’t say anything. the others are watching the exchange silently. the room is buzzing with tension.

“get off me!” you screech, landing a slap to simon’s cheek. “let me— let me go! let me go!” you’re gasping for breath, tears streaming down your cheeks. you’re panicking. your heart feels like it’s going to beat out of your chest.

“put me down! get— get— off me! stop—” you sob.

the doctor rushes into the room then, yelling at the men for allowing you out of bed. you can’t make out what she’s saying over the rush of blood in your ears. you feel light-headed. you can’t breathe.

“put them down, now!” the doctor yells at simon. “they’re having a panic attack— I thought I told you four to stay away from them? they’re too vulnerable right now—” the doctor is chastising them as simon places you back in the bed.

spots are dancing in your vision. you don’t even feel it when the doctor sticks another needle into your arm. the words being exchanged above your head are muffled. it’s like you’re underwater.

john’s face comes into view, then johnny’s, then gaz’s. as your eyes start to close, you notice the only face you don’t see again is simon’s.

when you wake up again, it’s been two weeks.

the doctor had put you into a medically induced coma to allow your more serious wounds time to heal, without risking another episode. unbeknownst to you, the members of your team had stayed by your bedside almost the entire time— minus simon. he hadn’t come within ten feet of the infirmary since the day of your panic attack.

there’s fresh flowers on the bedside table. a steady beeping of the heart monitor. a fuzzy feeling in your head.

it feels like a dream, all of it does. none of it feels real as you settle into your body again. but then the hurt starts, and you remember the truth.

your family betrayed you. your lover betrayed you. they locked you up and tortured you. they didn’t believe you.

when the doctor came to your side to check your iv, she smiled.

“how’re you feeling?”

you look up at her, and it takes a moment for you to speak.

“don’t,” you begin. your mouth feels like it’s full of cotton. “don’t let them…in here. don’t…wanna see them.”

the doctor nods in understanding, and she doesn’t say anything else to you. she turns and walks out of the room.

the door clicks shut behind her. she lets out a sigh before turning around to face the three men.

“they don’t want to see you.” she tells them, and their expressions drop. they don’t protest, and like wounded puppies, they walk off.

no one else comes to check on you for a few hours.

you’re in and out of consciousness— can’t tell what’s real and what’s a dream. flashes of your torture come back to you. flashes of a smile. of a scarred face. of hands on your hips and—

you crack your eyes open, and the room is dark. the only light is the blinking of some of the machines. it illuminates the room enough to allow you to see a large, dark figure slip from the room. the door clicks shut so quietly it’s almost imperceptible.

that’s when you notice fresh flowers on the bedside table.

your eyes start to droop once more, and you chalk up whatever you just saw to a dream, while simon exhales heavily on the other side of the infirmary door.

————————————————

authors note:

I hope this alright! it’s one in the morning (and I’m half asleep writing this) so I apologize for the errors that are most likely present, and the sense this most likely lacks. I feel like I could write a whole book about this idea, but im cutting myself off to sleep lol.

thank you for the ask, I hope I did your idea justice. 🫶

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

tell me again that you hate me

a/n: i kinda just poured all of the filth ever into this one fic... you're welcome.

summary: “you know, I could help you. Pop that little cherry for you,” he shrugged as if he didn’t seem out of his mind for what he was brashly uttering, “you desperately need it, that fucking stick up your ass makes you such a bitch to be around. But no one is gonna wanna bang you, I mean, maybe you could be kinda hot if you weren’t such a fucking loser, if you didn’t dress like a fucking pogue, but I don’t think anyone would commit social suicide like that. So, I’ll take care of it. Fix that problem for the good of everyone else.” 

warnings: bully!stepbro!rafe cameron x virgin!reader, smut, dark content, dubcon/noncon, enemies to lovers, rafe is in college while reader is still in high school (everyone is over 18), blackmail, alcohol consumption, allusion to drug use, drunk driving, hidden cameras, panty stealing, references to somno, possessiveness, kissing, loss of virginity, size kink, belly bulge, pain kink, dirty talk, impact play, oral, pussyjob, just the tip, squirting, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, cumplay, no aftercare and not really any foreplay, public sex, rafe is mean and pervy and dark but it's all fun because it's just a silly fantasy

word count: 5153

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Your life had turned into a living nightmare.

You thought that when your high school bully graduated, you’d finally get rid of him. But little did you know what the future held in store, just who your own mother would decide to marry and what particular family you’d be forced to fuse with. 

Rafe Cameron had been the bane of your existence for years. Sure, when you’d first met him, you admittedly had a bit of a crush on him, but that was until he noticed you and truly showed you the notorious bully that he was. And now that he, the very person who had turned your teenage years into literal hell, had become your stepbrother, you couldn’t wait to get out of there, move halfway across the globe just to never see his face again. 

It also didn’t help matters that you got situated in the room right next to his, even had to share a Jack and Jill bathroom with him. 

Now what you didn’t know was how Rafe’s feelings truly were towards you. How he only started bullying you because you made him feel some type of way that no other chick did, but you came from the wrong side of the island, so getting those feelings out in the form of cruelty only seemed natural to a guy such as him. You had no idea that it was actually you whom he thought about every time he jerked off on the other side of that incredibly thin wall you shared, or even that his wicked fascination with you only seemed to grow now that you were a part of the family. 

The impatient knocks were no use, so swiftly you swung the door to Rafe’s bedroom open. He was nowhere in sight, but before you could turn around to search for him in another place, the light that his computer monitor blared out into the space caught your eye.

Your vision however grew wide as soon as you saw the taboo tab that was open. It was porn, but not just any porn. The open page was littered with rows and rows of graphic videos that all fell under the stepsister search he had typed in. 

Frozen in your stance, you wanted to sprint out of there, though at the same time, some part of you wanted to inch closer and snoop further. 

“What the fuck are you doing in my room?” a voice blared from behind you and caused you to jump.

Skittering away from the desk, you spotted the familiar buzzcut standing in the doorway. 

“I–, uh,” you swallowed and recalled the reason for your hunt, “my mom’s forcing me to go to that party at Topper’s tonight.”

“Okay, and?” he scoffed. 

“And so, because I don’t really do that sort of thing–”

“Because you’re a fucking loser who never gets invited.”

“Because I have better things to spend my Friday nights doing, your father wanted you to keep an eye on me and to make sure I got home safe.”

The only way you were gonna get through the night was if you got as wasted as possible.

Which is exactly what you ended up doing. 

When the clock chimed two, the raging headache you were developing from the blaring music convinced you to finally call it a night. You’d given it enough of a chance, enough experience to go home and state that partying simply wasn’t for you. 

But if you didn’t find the literal demon of a stepbrother and let him complete his end of the bargain, then maybe your mom wouldn’t believe you alone and force you to go to another. 

However, locating him turned out to be a much more difficult task than you’d thought. As you stumbled around the massive house, supporting your wobbly weight on the walls as you peeked into each of the rooms where some partygoers had migrated to, you soon dug your phone out of your jeans and dialled up his number. 

It was on the third attempted call that you finally stumbled into him. Sitting with a random blonde on his lap and the remnants of a mysterious white powder dusting the coffee table separating you from him. 

“There you are,” you grumbled, “I’ve been trying to call you!”

His expression turned sour as he noticed your presence, swiftly flipping his phone around as it layed on the table, though the caller ID that lit up the screen wasn’t of your name as your phone still buzzed in your palm to get through to him. Instead, it spelt out fleshlight in big bold letters. 

“So, you have,” he exhaled, “what do you want?” 

“I wanna go home,” you shoved your phone back in your pocket. 

“So, go home. What do you want my fucking permission? Are you that obsessed with me?”

“You have to take me home,” you reminded him, though when he began to laugh in your face, you shot back, “or you can just deal with your dad yourself when you get home. Your choice if you wanna keep being in his good graces or not.” 

That managed to shut him up. Though as he reluctantly pushed the blonde aside and got up from the couch, he muttered just loud enough for you to hear, “fucking prude,” like a curse on the wind just before he marched passed you and grabbed a hold of your arm to drag you with him. 

“Ow, Rafe, you’re hurting me!” you tried to tear yourself free of his grip. 

“Oh, shut up you baby, no I’m not. You wanna feel what does hurt?” his long fingers then dug further into your flesh and caused it to actually ache, “this.”

As he pushed open the front door, you whined, “ow, please stop,” but when he finally did, he only traded the grasp out with a light shove to your shoulder, directing you further towards his parked car. 

When you were planted in the passenger seat with your gaze firmly fixed out the window as the dark streets rolled by, you crossed your arms and mumbled, “I hate you…” gaining enough courage from the dizzying alcohol ravaging your system to utter it out loud. 

“What was that?” Rafe cast a glance in your direction.

Twisting your neck to glare back at him, you hesitantly repeated, “I hate you,” though the faint flicker of bravery you’d acquired was snuffed out as swiftly as it ignited when you saw the smirk that bloomed on your stepbrother’s features. 

“Aw, don’t tell me that, princess,” he chuckled, “you’ll just make me hard.” 

Eyes widening, they briefly fluttered down to the crotch of his trousers before you blinked away, a reaction that was evidently satisfying enough for Rafe to cause him to keep going. 

“But you probably wouldn’t know what to do with it anyway.”

“I know what to do,” you said defensively, though regretted your humouring him as soon as the words slipped out past your lips. 

“Oh yeah? Just how would you know that? Everyone knows you’re a fucking virgin,” something he was to blame for, though that wasn’t a fact you ever had to know. You didn’t have to be aware of just how many times he had stopped guys from asking you out, just because he wanted you all to himself, “but are you secretly a perv, sis? Is that how you think you know what to do?”

“Don’t call me that,” you cringed lightly. 

“What? A perv? Or sis? Don’t you wanna be reminded that you’re my stepsister?”

“Not particularly...”

As the car curved into the driveway to Tanny Hill, an offer suddenly rolled off Rafe’s tongue. 

“You know, I could help you. Pop that little cherry for you,” he shrugged as if he didn’t seem out of his mind for what he was brashly uttering, “you desperately need it, that fucking stick up your ass makes you such a bitch to be around. But no one is gonna wanna bang you, I mean, maybe you could be kinda hot if you weren’t such a fucking loser, if you didn’t dress like a fucking pogue, but I don’t think anyone would commit social suicide like that. So, I’ll take care of it. Fix that problem for the good of everyone else.” 

Your mouth hung agape as the vehicle rolled to a stop, the sudden shift made you fear that your latest drink would come up again. 

Utterly stunned, you couldn’t form a single word as you stared back at him. 

“I mean, it’s what you want, isn’t it?” he went on, turning in his seat to gaze over at you, already undressing you with his eyes, “haven’t you always had the hots for me?”

“I–…” it felt as if the car was swaying around even though it stood completely still, “…I drank way too much tonight, and I think you might have as well.”

“You’re drunk?” darkness glinted in his eyes, “well, I honestly don’t know if I should be impressed or run inside and wake everyone up so you can get grounded for fucking ever,” he laughed. 

“No!” you gasped, “You can’t tell them, please! I–…” you felt tears begin to sting the corners of your eyes and blur up your already hazy vision, “fuck!” 

Leaning even further back in his seat, he cocked his head, “I mean, I could also keep it a secret…” the tip of his tongue mischievously slipped out to poke his lip, “for the right price, that is.”

“Seriously?” you glared back at him, “are you serious right now?”

Capturing your hand, he swiftly brought it to the palpable tent in his pants, “do I not seem serious?” his eyes narrowed ever so slightly to a squint. 

Your lips parted in shock, stare flickering away from his eyes to spot how he ever so slightly pressed your palm down against him. 

He was so hard that you could nearly feel his pulse through the fabric of his trousers. 

“I mean, really I’d be helping you out,” your gaze stayed glued to how his broad hand engulfed your own a moment longer before you glanced up to find his unwavering stare once more, “so you should really thank me for both keeping your secret and doing you such a massive favour…”

As a shaky breath escaped your lungs, you whispered once more, “I hate you…”

But the proclamation only conjured a smile to appear on his lips, “tell me again,” and he leaned in a bit closer.

“I hate y–,” but you didn’t get the last bit out as Rafe then crashed his lips against yours.

It took a second for you to react with anything other than a surprised whimper, but when you did, it was slow and cautious compared to his boldness. 

A string of saliva strung you together as he eventually parted from you. Offering himself a small caress, he pressed your palm down against him one last time before he let you go. His breathing was heavy as he momentarily let his thumb trace your bottom lip, briefly slipping it crudely in your mouth, before uttering, “get inside.”  

Why, after all of this time, after all of the pain and torture he alone made you go through, why did he still have to give you butterflies the way that he did?

It was your room that he led you to, a hand ever rooted on you as you made the journey. At first, you thought it was because he saw the way you occasionally stumbled over your own feet, but perhaps it was just in case you wanted to make a run for it, just a precaution, a safety net already halfway over you. 

“Take your clothes off,” he commanded in a cold tone as he shut the door behind you. 

“W-what?” you turned to look back at him.

Sitting down on the edge of your bed, he repeated, “take your clothes off,” though they came out sounding slightly impatient. 

He palmed himself through his pants as you slowly began to strip. Though as you’d shyly peeled your t-shirt off and dropped it to the floor, his voice halted you just as you began to undo your jeans. 

“Stop,” his voice cut the thick air like a knife, “turn around when you pull those down,” you twisted away from him as your thumbs sank into either side of the waistband, “and do it slowly,” he made you put on a show, ogling as you gradually revealed the curve of your ass, “that’s it…” he nearly moaned as your pants crumbles to the floor, “bra and panties too, princess. Unless of course, you’re backing out of our deal already.”

Clenching your jaw, you squeezed your eyes shut and shed the rest, ignoring his soft wolf whistles and crude comments as you exposed yourself. 

Slowly turning back around to face him, your hands were clasped before you out of sheer timidness and not knowing what to do with them. 

“You gonna stand over there all night?” he raised his chin slightly.

When your feet stood rooted right before his seated position on the bed, your hands began to fiddle as he pulled his shirt over his head and caused your pulse to somehow beat even harder than it already did. 

One of his palms then scooped up your stomach and briefly grabbed one of your tits before scooping you closer, “come here,” and utilised his leverage to toss you down on the bed beside him, “let me get a good look at you.” 

Grabbing for the bedsheets as the mattress momentarily bounced beneath your spine, you blinked up at Rafe as he sat next to you, twisting his form and craning down to near your core. 

You tried to clamber your legs shut, embarrassed for what his cruel reaction might be, but he was not only faster, but stronger than you, and grabbed a hold of your thighs. As he split you apart, his lips curled up into a grin. 

“Look at you… fuck,” he let out a short chuckle, “this is gonna be fun.” 

A gasp curled out of your frame as he then grazed his thumb over your folds, smearing some of the mortifying wetness that seeped out and made you feel even more intoxicated than you already were. He lightly spread you apart and studied intently your dripping pussy, how it looked, how it glistened and how your little hole twitched when he lightly circled your clit. 

“Oh, you like this, don’t you?” he rubbed your puffy pearl with a mean lightness that caused your hips to buck slightly, “you like it when your big stepbrother touches you like this?” but when you didn’t reply, he reached down and grabbed your jaw, angling it for you to meet his eye, “answer me.”

“I–… y-yes,” you quietly admitted, feeling as if you were in some strange dream. 

“Of course you do, you dirty little girl,” he bent down again to gaze at your pussy a little too close for your taste, “I knew you were a slut since the moment I met you.”

Letting go of your face, he then snaked his free hand down to give himself an ounce of relief. 

“You know, part of me doesn’t even wanna prep you with my fingers first,” he smirked and let his fingertips sweep down to tickle your entrance, “I like the idea of not stretching you out first and letting my cock do all the work, let it feel just how tiny and pure you are for me.” 

“But isn’t that gonna hurt?” your breath caught in your throat. Sure, you’d played with yourself nearly till your hands fell off, but that idea still managed to scare you. 

“God, I hope so,” he groaned and briefly leaned down to press a hot kiss to your clit, sucking it into his mouth and sloppily making out with it. 

When he then stood up and pulled his pants down, your jaw nearly hit the floor as well when you saw how thick his dick was. Fat and veiny, curving proudly up towards his abs. 

Seizing your hips, Rafe yanked you closer to where he stood, nearly letting your ass dangle over the edge of the mattress.

“Wait,” you suddenly reached out to touch his forearm as he gave himself a few lavish strokes, staring down at your cunt, comparing the obscene size of him to your puff, “what about a condom?” you squeaked as he flicked his leaking tip down to tap your core. 

Sucking in a fierce breath through his nose, he glared down at you and shot back, “what about you shut the fuck up and just be grateful,” before he sent his open palm down to smack your pussy. 

“Ah! I’m sorry, I just–, fuck!” you shuttered beneath him as he soothed the slap with the nudge of his length, rubbing it against you and teasing your cunt before he started sweeping it through your folds, nearly fucking your soppy slit, the tip of him kissing your little pearl on each silky advance.  

A dollop of spit dropped from his lips and joined the mess he already tickled at between your parted legs. 

“It’s too big…” you murmured as you stared down at how his fat girth parted your pretty petals, though the observation only conjured a smile on Rafe’s lips, “maybe you could just put the tip in?” you tried through your foggy mind, “that would still count.”

A rumbling chuckle bubbled out of him as he stared down at the two of you together, “just the tip…” his movements then grew more erratic as he slid through your folds, “is that all you think your little virgin cunt can handle?” shy gasps escaped you every time he deliberately let his cock catch at your opening, “just the tip?” 

As he slowly pressed just the flush head of his length in to breach your entrance, your brows crinkled up at the mind-numbing stretch. 

“Like that, baby?” he only moved ever so slightly, “is that all you think you can handle?” and you nodded foggily in return. But as you let your eyes flutter shut and breathed through the staggeringly wonderful sensation, Rafe’s voice once again washed over you, “nah,” like a splash of cold water while you were licking up warm sun rays, “that’s not good enough. This is,” and he then slammed the entirety of his length into you.

Your eyes instantly shot back open and your legs curled up even further on either side of you at the shock. 

“What?” he cooed at you mockingly as he slowly dragged his dick back out for just the memory to remain, “does it hurt?”

You were a blubbering and cursing mess, trembling beneath him as your pussy tried to accommodate him.

“Come on, princess,” he bent down over you and let his nose ghost against yours, “tell me that it hurts.”

“It h-hurts,” you whimpered as his hot breath fanned across your blazing cheeks. 

It did sting, a lot, but though you hated to admit it, a part of you loved it, a part of you sank even further into the pit of pleasure he so slowly dunked you into. 

“Tell me that it’s too big for you,” he nuzzled his nose against yours as he plugged you back up. 

Your body shook beneath his every time he moved as much as a millimetre inside you, “i-it’s too big.” 

Letting out a low moan of satisfaction, he then leaned down to press his lips to yours, stealing your breath away even further. 

You tried, but couldn’t really focus on kissing him back, not that he seemed to mind much as he moaned into your mouth, soon letting his sloppy kisses dance over your cheek and down your neck, letting hickeys bloom in his wake and mark up your skin like a brand.

As he sucked down on the spot where your pulse went wild beneath the skin, his hips drove against yours harder, causing them to collide in a sticky smack, as well as letting the tip of him bully the deepest part of you. He didn’t just do it once, but kept it up as he enjoyed the little squeaks you let out every time he bumped against your cervix. 

Kissing his way back up to your lips, he only offered them the briefest of pecks before raising himself off of you, just ever so slightly, and one by one, grabbed your already wide-spread legs and rested each one of them onto his broad shoulders, efficiently folding you in half. 

“H-holy shit,” you panted as the mattress rippled beneath you at every one of his rough thrusts, “Rafe–”

“Yeah?” he smirked down at your melted form, the vein in his forehead popping from the strain, “are you gonna cum? Are you gonna cum on your big bro’s dick?” one of his hands swept up to squeeze your tit, then gave it a swift tap before growling, “come on, princess. I can feel you squeezing me so fucking tight. Do it, I fucking dare you. Be a good girl and cum on my cock.”

You almost screamed as you tumbled over the edge, your head curling to the side to hide yourself in the crumbled duvet beneath you as your pussy gushed all over his fat girth. 

“Oh, fuck,” Rafe croaked as he straightened back up to get a good view. Pulling out of you, he briefly flicked his dick through your folds to urge more of your nectar to leak out, before he slid it back inside and asked in amazement, “you ever squirted before?” 

Trembling from the overstimulation, your eyes rolled in your skull as you shakily mumbled, “maybe twice, I think.”

“Such a good fucking slut,” he growled proudly, “squirting all over me like a proper whore. Just look at you,” his grip dented your thighs as he pressed them further down against the bed, “you’re already a pretty little cockdrunk mess.”

“I–, I–,” you blubbered as you felt drool begin to trickle down your cheek. 

“Oh, fuck,” he then groaned, glancing down at where he split you apart, “hold your legs back,” he requested, though had to help your sluggish hands find their way, “look at this, baby,” he scooped a palm behind your head and ushered you to spot what he had noticed. Splaying a wide hand over the lower part of your stomach, he traced the faint bulge that rhythmically appeared, “sure as fuck not a virgin anymore, are you? Fucking ruining that perfect little pussy of yours. Now that’s how you pop a fucking cherry. Aren’t you happy I was in such a charitable mood tonight?” he then pressed down on the imprint rudely, the overwhelming sensation causing your pussy to drizzle a little more around him, “aren’t you, sis?”

“Yes,” you mewled, feeling as if you were floating on a cloud and not getting your guts rearranged. 

“You’d let me do anything I’d fucking want, wouldn’t you?” he smirked down at your dazed form. 

“Y-yes,” the word flowed out of you, though you couldn’t quite comprehend all of his dirty talk any longer. 

“Hold on,” he briefly slowed down and stretched over to reach a small apprentice obscured and hidden in all of the cluttered decor on your nearby dresser. Turning it in his hand, he pointed the discrete camera down to film you, “say it again,” he picked his pace back up, “tell me that you’ll let me do anything I want to you.”

“Anything,” the words bubbled out through your moans, “anything you want.” 

“Say that you’re my little slut.”

“I’m yours–, I-I’m your s-slut.”

Tilting the hidden camera down to get a few close-ups, his voice then seeped into you once more, “now tell me again that you hate me.” 

One of your hands fluttered down and began to rub your puffy clit.

“I hate you.”

“Again,” he reached down to give your left nipple a harsh pinch.

“I hate you.”

“Keep going, princess.” 

And the more times the phrase flowed out past your lips, the more it began to lose its meaning and morph into just another sound, one that was almost akin to the complete opposite kind of proclamation. 

Just like you barely noticed when Rafe dug out the hidden camera, so too did you miss it when he put it back down, obscured somewhere among your things, possibly not even the only one. 

When you came once again, Rafe didn’t so much as pause when you creamed around his cock and drenched the sheets beneath you that much further.

“There you fucking go,” he sent a palm down to smack the sensitive skin on your inner thigh, “god, you’re so hot. I can’t believe you actually let me do this,” he grinned as your fingers stretched out to graze his wild hips, trying and failing to slow him down, “you’re such a little freak,” he glanced down at the ring of your essence that marked the base of his throbbing cock, “so fucking nasty for your stepbrother. I bet you’d even let me keep using you after you fall asleep. I mean, who’s to say I haven’t already,” he chuckled, “you’re so fucking cute when you sleep. No annoying remarks, no dumb comments… I think I might prefer you that way…” his slamming grew sloppy as he soon moaned, “fuck, I’m gonna fucking cum.”

“Pull out,” you begged through your hazy pants. 

And just when you thought he wouldn’t respect your wishes, he yanked out and furiously stroked himself before your winking and wrecked hole as it slowly retraced from the severe stretch. Moaning loudly, he swiftly painted your pussy with his load, getting it all over your puffy petals till he was panting above you. One hand rested on your thigh as he brushed the sensitive head of his cock over the cream, messily tapping the hefty weight of him against your aching clit and making you jump a few times as he smeared it in. 

Throwing himself down on the bed beside you, he let out a long sigh and said, “you’re welcome.”

You felt like you couldn’t move, like you might never be able to move again. Your breath still came in ragged as the only thing you could focus on was the sore throbbing centred at your core, that blossomed out through the rest of your nerves. 

“Well,” Rafe huffed as he soon lifted himself up to a sitting position, “night,” and without another word, slipped out through your shared bathroom into his own bedroom. 

“I can’t believe they made you take me,” you grumbled as you watched Rafe shadow you in the clothing store, “I could have just gone to the mall on my own.”

“You don’t have a car though–, also, why are you the one complaining? I’m the one being forced to go fucking shopping with you of all people.”

Somehow, for some mysterious reason, since you’d moved into Tanny Hill, your collection of underwear had shrivelled down till you barely had enough to get you through the week. Guess that was the price you had to pay for letting someone else do your laundry, though you’d always assumed it would more just be a single sock that commonly vanished in the wash…

When you dipped into the fitting room to try a few of the gathered options on, you only managed to test out two of them before the curtain slid back open and you swiftly scrambled to cover yourself.

“Rafe!” you let out a hushed screech, “what do you think you’re–”

“Try these on,” he handed you a wide stack of hangers. It wasn’t just underwear dangling from them, but also some clothing, though all of it way too revealing than you were used to. 

Glancing down at them, you refused to grasp the items and simply stated in a clear tone, “no.” 

Letting out a low sigh, he then turned to close the curtain back up before he twisted back to face you, “do you need me to have a little talk with your mom and my dad?” he took a few steps towards you, slowly pushing you into the corner by the tall mirror.

Glaring back at him through your pout, you huffed, “no…” 

You stayed in the corner as he then hung the clothing up on the hooks before taking a seat on the small stool where your purse was resting before he swept it to the floor. 

“Are you just gonna sit there and watch?”

“Yeah,” he scoffed, “it’s boring as shit out there. At least in here, I might get a moderate amount of entertainment.”

Rolling your eyes, you reluctantly began to try the attire on. 

“I hate thongs,” you muttered as you tugged a pair into place over your hip, trying not to catch your stepbrother’s stare as his gaze wandered from your reflection to the perfect view he had of your backside. 

“I recall you hate a lot of things you still don’t hesitate to jump on.”

“Whatever,” you sighed, “you have your fun, enjoy this little fashion show, but I’m sure as hell not getting any of these.”

“Well, good,” he uttered demeaningly, “because I’m buying them for you.”

Catching his eye in the mirror, you told him, “I’m still not wearing them. You can’t make me.” 

“Yeah,” he puffed out a smirk, “we’ll see about that,” and then tore his gaze away from you to gesture to one of the hangers, “try that dress on, but keep the pink thong on underneath, only the thong though.” 

You had to shut your eyes in annoyance a moment before you fulfilled his request, soon standing before him in a scantily cut, pastel mini dress, crafted in a fabric so thin that you could see the faint shadow of your nipples poking through them, especially after they’d turned all pebbly after Rafe had torn that privacy curtain to the side. 

“You happy now?” you turned to face him and propped your hands on either side of your hips. 

“Hm,” he cockily pursed his lips as his gaze studied you, “I was right…”

Your brows stayed furrowed till you watched his palm slide down to squeeze himself through his shorts. 

“What are you doing?” you hissed, eyes growing wide. 

“You do look hot in normal clothes.”

“I don’t think any of this is normal…”

“I think it’s time you learned how to suck a cock,” he suddenly announced, eyes still glued to the dress’ low neckline as he unzipped his slacks. 

“Rafe…” you breathed. 

His eyes flickered up to find yours, “get on your knees,” he tilted his head, “come on, princess. You’ll love it, trust me.” 

© 2024 thyme-in-a-bubble 

[mystellenia]

sleepy late nights with ellie ୨ৎ

summary: both you and ellie wake up in the middle of the night and cuddle your way back to sleep.

content: answer to this req!! nothing nsfw :] just fluffy and ellie being stupid

notes: sorry i havent posted in a while.. but yes finals are coming up so i’ll prob kms soon. but i have this class where i hate the teacher and after finals i'm done with him FINALLY YESSS

(wc 1.0k)

a loud coughing fit came from over your shoulder where you slept in bed, making you open your eyes to see if it would stop. it did not, instead intensifying after you look over your shoulder to find a hunched over ellie sitting up with her legs swung over the edge of the bed. she notices that her coughing woke you up and she quickly palms her mouth, hoping to muffle the volume of the coughs. 

she tries—and fails—to get an apology out in between her coughs: "fuck- i didn't mean- didn't mean to wake you up." 

you simply watch with your eyes wide and brows drawn in naked concern. finally, she calms down and lowers her voice to a whisper. "sorry baby." 

rolling onto your back, you extend your hand out towards her and then stop it midair, shocked at how unconcerned she seems at her previous death hacks. 

"um, hello? are you okay?" you whisper-yell. 

she lifts the covers to get back into bed, trying to rub her eyes of the sleep that was so violently interrupted. "i woke up with the worst cotton mouth so i just drank whatever was on my nightstand. it was soda. squirt to be exact. i think i just asphyxiated." 

"stupid- why would you drink soda for thirst? drink water," you scold her. 

"it was right there- i just needed anything! i would've drank chocolate milk if it was right there!" 

"dummy," you huffed. the blinking led lights of the clock on ellie's nightstand catches your eye—it was just past two in the morning. yawning, you say, "just come back, let's sleep." 

she didn't resist—she looked exhausted. ellie was anything but a morning person, and she got cranky if she didn't get a full night's rest.  

scooting down to get under the blanket, she pulls it up to her chin and turns on her side to face you staring back at her. she moves with a shimmy to get closer to your body, pushing her legs in between yours and tangling them as she nearly presses her nose to yours. with a content sigh, she nuzzles into her pillow and closes her eyes. 

softly chuckling at her apparent routine to get resituated, you huff out a laugh, making her open her eyes. 

"what?" she murmurs, confused at what you were laughing at. 

"el, what do you mean what? i'm exhaling right into your nose and inhaling your breath." 

"just say you don't love me," she pouts, theatrically turning over to face her back to you and yanking the blanket. 

"you're so annoying," you say and roll your eyes while sitting up to litter her face in kisses. "please come back so we can share germs?" 

"that's more like it." she returns to her previous position with her legs tangled in yours and face a centimeter from yours. 

her head pushes forward for a second to drop a kiss on your lips—just a quick goodnight. "'night, baby." 

you laugh, "good night, ellie." 

you settle into your pillow and close your eyes to begin to drift off to sleep when you feel the weight of ellie's head lift off of her pillow. after a second or two, you open your eyes to a squint to see ellie looking at you in disbelief. 

"can you give me a kiss back or should i roll back over and social distance again?" 

"oh my god, ellie, can we sleep?!" she raises her eyebrows in expectation, giving you her cheek to kiss. "my stupid big baby."  

you plant your hands on either side of her jaw, speaking and punctuating every few words with a kiss. "yes, i love you,"--kiss--"yes, i wanna exchange microorganisms with you,"--kiss--"no, i don't want us to sleep six feet apart,"--kiss--"...but... drinking squirt three seconds after you open your eyes is actually insane, baby." 

you see in her eyes how badly she wants to throw something back at you, but her cheeks are barely containing her suppressed smile, so instead she just giggles and lays her head back on her pillow, the tip of her nose tickling yours. 

"good nighttt," ellie whispers in a sing-songy tone, kissing your lips once, twice, three times before settling back in her nose-to-nose position. 

"you're so cute," you blurt out, pulling the blanket up and tucking it under your chin. 

her words started to slur, her syllables beginning to blend together by exhaustion. "d'you wanna order food tomorrow morning for breakfast in bed?" 

"it is tomorrow—it's, like, 2:30 now." 

she kisses her teeth in irritation. "you fuckin' smartass," she murmurs, a long yawn following. "do you want to or no?" 

"duh i want to. i can't wait to get fat together." 

she takes so long to respond that you think she's dozed off until she mutters out, "perfect," a sleepy smile taking over her face. 

"can... can we get caprisuns in the cup for him, too?" she adds on nonsensically. 

"baby, what?" you question, unable to make any sense of her... request? her statement? she's too tired to be speaking. 

ellie's breaths slow down again, making you think she's actually fallen asleep until she hums to get your attention. you hum back at her to show you're listening, and she starts to speak. 

"can we get a liter of squirt tomorrow with breakfast?" 

"what the fuck. bedtime now. good night," you say, shutting down her meaningless rambling to go to sleep. right before your eyes shut, you notice her soft pout at you silencing her, but it fades off into a smile as you fall asleep. 

@picklesarenice69

i dont have much to say!! gonna post now bc i have an appointment rn 😊😊😊😊😊😊😊😊😊😊😊😊😊😊😊😊😊😊😊😊

click here!! oh and here too!! ˶ᵔᵕᵔ˶

[thewriterg]

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐧𝐞𝐰

pairing(s); simon riley x fem!reader, reader x toxic family

summary; You tried to keep it together to keep him away from it to not get attached but it only take one situation for you to come crumbling down reaching out to simon for comfort —angstober day;14—

word count; 900+

warning(s); age gap, sweetheart is her/your own warning, thinking college student reader so like early twenties and simon is about mid to late forties, arguments, crying, angst, kisses, pet names, mention of violence, simon abt to risk it all, and language

playlist; nothings new by rio romeo

A/n:—GIFs; @astrolux111 & @silenthqll— GIF does not determine race

Simon was up it didn’t take much to wake him and when he heard the footsteps approaching his flat front door he was up the handgun from his scratched wooden nightstand that he’d bought off some older man who he was sure had passed to the unknown by now

The rough knocks on his door frame were demanding and rushed as if the person behind the wood was on time crunch he approached the door the firearm clutched in his hand his finger taking no time to rest on the trigger his hand was on the nob before he swung the door open his eyebrows furrowing not expecting to see what was in his line of sight

Your eyes were red and puffy tear streaks stringing your face your hair out of place as well as your shifted clothes Simon swiftly setting down his defense on standing table next to his door grabbing your arm to bring you into the shelter of his home he checks over your body to find nothing alarming but the soaking wet clothes clinging to your body

“S-simon” Is all you can get out as your body racked with sobs you shoulders hunched and he wraps an arm around you littered with tattoos your face hidden in his chest covered by the cotton tshirt that was a little small on him your cold wet clothes transferring onto his as shushes you slowly moving you into his bedroom sitting you on his mattress slipping your drenched shirt over your head as you sniffle your head throbbing from the continuous tears and energy spent you didn’t realize you were dressed in dry attire until you were getting picked up and suddenly the weighed down fabric wasn’t overwhelming you anymore your legs wraps around the blondes torso lying your head on his shoulder you body still shivering as you felt yourself dip onto his worn mattress rubbing his hands down your goosebump covered arms

“Come on love what’s the matter with my sweet girl, hmm? Tell Si what’s the matter” Something triggers in you causing more streams of tears to fall down your face and you try to speak choking out incoherent words and sniffles simon rubs a hand over your hair pressing a kiss your forehead his brain screaming at him to to go punch the nearest punk out on the street because there has to be something, something major to keep you acting this way

“I don’t want you to leave me” You body wracks you chest feels like it’s gonna cave any minute you feel like your airway you’ll be cut off and your sound will be free from your body

“Sweetheart it’s gonna take more than a few tears to get rid of me, matter of fact you won’t be able to you understand?” You nod your head before your spewing everything weighing your chest down to the floor about you family and how they make you feel more down then you’d ever been without meaning to the situation I particular causing your weaker construction to tip over and collapse your siblings couldn’t keep their hands out of your things and this time it had did it you’d been saving for a new laptop for class it cost more than you liked to admit and your sister god you loved her but she was at the age where she couldn’t keep her hands off of thing your things to be exact and long story short your laptop was broken in your sisters hands you berated her scolded her it was the least you could do for the trouble she caused you

When your parents arrived home you expected them to finish the job rip your sister a new one she ran into your father arms rambling of how mean and what a monster you are and even after you told your parents about what she had done she’s barely get a slap on the wrist you were older you shouldn’t yell at the younger ones defending your honor and standing your ground got you yelled at a stinging mark on your cheek

“My h-head hurts” You whimpered after a moment of silence and it was true you didn’t know how long you’ve been crying for and your head felt like it was going to explode Simon sets you down on the mattress briefly your head still spinning and pounding in your ears he leaves and returns again two pain killers that look like a spec of nothing in his palm he sets and on your cheek gently prying your jaw open setting the drugs on your tongue before you swallow the he praises you for it and your realize how much of a all time low you are

“Come on sweetheart no more tears you know it’ll make it worse” This time you’re not sobbing from the pain your chest but rather the pain your head hiccups slipping from your lips falling apart in his grasp and he held you like he always will and as he always had

He’d glue all your broke pieces back together

©2023 thewriterg spooktober do not copy, translate, or modify.

NEW; sweetheart and simon headcanons

[spaghettiposts]

Window Crashin’

WandaNat x Spidey!Reader

Summery: Crashing into the wrong window at night proves to be the best mistake you’ve ever made.

Warnings: Very OBLIVIOUS reader, straight up stupid I can’t lie. Gay panics all around. Fluff

Word count: 1.6k

A/n: my first time officially writing for Nat and I think I’d like to continue so expect separate fics of her sometime soon.

Kraven had become an incessant thorn in your side, his relentless rampage ever since he announced “The Grand Hunt” in the heart of Central Park felt like a never-ending nightmare. One that persistently dragged on as the weeks floated by, each day a new form of tinnitus growing in your eardrums at the echoings of his horn. Falling once again into his endless game of cat and mouse.

Or in your case Kraven and Spider–with Kraven playing predator and you, the elusive Spider, trying to lure him away from innocent civilians roaming the streets of New York. 

Which wasn’t as easy as one would imagine, but you made do with what you had, brains over brawns. Clinging onto the hope that eventually, Kraven would grow tired of chasing and resign for the night, with the promise that he’d return. And so the cycle goes on. 

There were other options you could resort to, but those were last resorts, ones you only used if you were certain you couldn’t handle Kraven or in case of an emergency. In all honesty, you’re avoiding involving the Avengers, it’s really the last thing you want this to come to. A couple of broken ribs wasn’t an Avengers level threat.

You could handle Kraven by yourself perfectly fine, and nobody got hurt at the end of the day—except mainly your sleep schedule.

And now, as you swung through the thick chilling air on route to the compound; you were struggling to stay awake, the bruises littered across your body only making it harder to keep swinging. It wasn’t that sleep had ever been your strong suit, but now, it seemed like a distant luxury. The sacrifice of a hero came in many forms, and sleep deprivation was yours. 

Tony had sacrificed half his company in pursuit of a heroic lifestyle, hell, even Steve froze himself to save humanity. If humanity needed you to suffer from fewer hours in bed, then so be it. 

You fought relentlessly to keep your eyes from drooping and it only took the honking of a truck for you to jolt awake, merely missing out on the experience of being rammed by one. 

Shaking your head, you muttered words of encouragement to yourself, living on a prayer of making it back to the compound - in one piece. 

As the familiar building came into view, you let out a breath of relief you didn’t know you were holding. Taking a moment to gather yourself, you swung around towards the left block and homed in on your window, only to face-plant straight into it with a resounding thud.

You groaned against the pavement, pressing your hands on the wall to steady yourself before you could slide off. Silently thanking that radioactive spider for granting you the ability to stick to surfaces as you adjusted yourself, what the fuck?

A miscalculation on your part—or at least you pictured. Pushing yourself back from the wall, your eyebrows crinkled. Huh.

You always left your window open–had one of your teammates closed it off?

Assuming one of the guys must’ve closed it off, you didn’t question much, missing your bed and running on pure exhaustion to really assess the situation seriously. Gripping the sides of the window, you tried to pry from the outside, and after a couple of difficulties; you managed to unlock it, budging it open with a click. 

Finally, home sweet home. 

Your body toppled into the room first before the rest of your body crashed onto the floor, reaching an arm to shut the window behind you. With a sigh of relief, you picked yourself up, stretching your arms above your head, eliciting a satisfying ‘pop’ from your back, feeling all the pent-up tensions of the day leave your body. 

Pressing the button on your chest, making quick work of discarding your suit. You struggled more than you’d like to admit, having to hop on one foot to wiggle your feet out of the padding. 

Amidst your squirming, you failed to notice the crimson warps seeping from your bed, freezing mid-movement as the lights flickered on by themselves, looking like a deer caught in headlights. 

“Jesus fucking Christ!” You screeched, scrambling up to your feet, firmly clutching your uniform in a poor attempt to cover yourself from the two women on your bed, equally startled.

“Y/n…? What are you doing here?” Natasha says after a beat of silence, her eyes furrowing as she lowers her gun and the arm protectively wrapped around her girlfriend. Wanda mirrored her actions and let the red wisps fall before she turned to you disconcertingly.

You shrunk under their gaze, feeling your heart pick up. It was too late to salvage any attempts at running for it, so you turned away, ignoring how affected you felt by their disheveled appearances.

Instead, you focused on why they were inside your room in the first place. Not that you minded having two beautiful women in your bed but at this hour? 

“What are you doing in my room? I just got back, what’s…” Your voice trailed off, slipping on your suit, as you looked towards your dresser…was it always that color? And why was there a photo of Wanda and Natasha on your nightstand? Sure, you were hopelessly in love with the two but never to this extent.

Barely bordering on those lines. 

“Detka…this is our room,” Wanda said slowly, as to not startle you. 

You cursed under your breath, realizing your mistake. “Aw fuck, I must’ve crashed into the wrong—wall-side thing,” you explained messily, picking yourself up for what felt like the hundredth time tonight. 

“Crashed?” Both of the girls shouted and you winced, scooting off awkwardly to the side, feeling even more like an intrusion. 

“Yeah but it’s okay though, that’s nothing compared to Kraven's fists, trust me.” You meant to reassure them, but judging by the worried looks they exchanged, it had the opposite effect. Taking their silence as an opportunity to leave, you stepped back.

“Anyways, sorry for interrupting your night.” You mumbled apologetically, reaching for the window handle. “I’ll see y'all tomorrow— son of a bitch.” You grunted, banging your head against the glass for the second time this night. You were really starting to resent these things.  

And Wanda bit her bottom lip, “Malysh, it’s late and you’re…not doing well, why don’t you stay here tonight?” She suggested softly, her voice coming out as sweet as honey and you almost dropped dead there.

“Here?” You blurted out, feeling a mixture of surprise and uncertainty. “Like, with you and Nat?”

Natasha and Wanda shared an amused look, before nodding in unison. 

Your face crinkled, not really understanding what the looks were for but you assumed it was all in your head. Sparing one last glance at the two, you confirmed this was okay, searching for even the smallest bits of hesitancy or discomfort only to find nothing but welcoming smiles. 

With a small nod, barely audible, you murmured a hesitant “alright,” as you settled into the chair beside their bed, placing your feet on the small wooly ottoman.

Had your eyes been open, you might’ve noticed the way their faces dropped in disappointment. After months of obvious pining, not-so-subtle flirting thrown your way, you were choosing to sleep…not with them but on a chair.

A brief silence lingered, and you shifted in your seat. Even with your eyes closed, you could feel their eyes piercing and you were starting to sweat.

“Sorry,” You mumble, heat rising up your neck in embarrassment as you removed your feet off the ottoman, fearing you had overstepped. Still, their gazes remained unwavering and you rubbed your arm unsurely, “Is the chair off–limits too? I can take the floor if that’s better.”

“Dorogoy, we’re inviting you into our bed,” Natasha chuckles disbelievingly, fingers tracing the covers as to tempt you with the invitation. 

“Mhmm, yeah no. I’m not sure that’s a good idea.” You shook your head, stumbling over your words. “I don’t do well in confined spaces with pretty women, I mean— no wait you are, both are super pretty but that’s not—“ 

Thankfully, Wanda interjected before you could embarrass yourself further with a giggle. You swore your stomach flipped. “Cute, but won’t you get cold?” She suggested, Natasha nodding and lifting the covers, adding, “It’s much warmer over here.”

Again, you waved them off and they were starting to get fed up with your excuses. “Oh nah! My suit has thermal heating installed, pretty cool right? Tony helped me insulate it–”

“Y/n, just get in the bed.”

Before you could protest further, you felt those warm red tendrils wrap around you, coaxing you into their bed, and you couldn’t even remember why you were fighting this in the first place when their arms wrapped around you. Not when their sheets were so warm, and their bodies warmer. 

Resistance be damned, as Natasha's hand ran gently through your hair, you relaxed into it, and both girls smiled. This was how things needed to be, always. 

Still, your heart was beyond nervous to even enjoy the moment but they were pushing at your shoulders to tuck you in further, getting settled themselves. They tangled their limbs with your own and it was official; there was definitely no escaping this. 

Pressing a kiss to the corner of your mouth, Wanda murmured a couple of words and you felt more comfortable clothes encase you. Natasha pressed a tender kiss to the shell of your ear before bidding you a good night.

You repeat her words back and they tighten their grip, closing their eyes. 

With exhaustion finally catching up to you, your eyes drooped helplessly again, fluttering shut, bones begging for sleep, and you finally surrendered to its embrace. Allowing yourself a moment of rest with the two people you treasure most in the world. 

And suddenly, crashing into windows didn’t seem so bad after all.

[pynkfairyheart]

pairings: piercer!eren x reader

warnings: smuuuttt 18+, eren is the president of the subby men club, pegging ໒꒰ྀི˶˃ᆺ˂˶꒱ྀི১

a/n: I'm nervy to put this out omggg

pt.2 to Good girl but ofc can be read as a standalone

Boss

You heard him before you could see him. The slam of the front door, throw of his keys and heavy sigh alerting you he wasn't in the best mood.

“Baby?” You peeked your head out before walking into the living room, where he sat with his hands over his face, fingers separating wide enough to look at you before he put his arms out.

A telltale sign he had a bad day. Eren was usually the energetic one of your pair, always coming home with a smile on his face before he made you take a break from whatever it was you were doing to ramble on about his day, and happily listen about yours.

However, on bad days he just wanted to be held, quiet for the night as you whispered affirmations in his ear.

“Wanna talk?” Your hands cradled his face as he pulled you close.

“Today was annoying. We had two shipments come in, and of course one of them was wrong. Then one of Mikasa’s clients was being a perv and when I tried to handle it the asshole swung at me, so of course I had to beat his ass, and call the cops. Their asses didn't even help because they tried to accuse me of selling drugs out of the shop. Shit was a fucking mess.” He groaned. Crescent indents formed on your hips as his grip tightened.

“I'm sorry, pa” Your plump lips littered slow soft kisses on his.

“Anything I can do to make your day better?” The tension in his shoulders dissolving as you massaged them.

“Just you- fuck just you being here is perfect, baby” He groaned as your hands traveled down to his biceps, the tension high in his muscles.

He leaned back into the couch, eyes shut as you worked your magic. His body had finally started to relax after the events of the day when he felt you get off of him.

“Where are you-” He opened his eyes, pausing when he saw you down on your knees in front of him, fingers hooked around the waistband of his sweats.

“Y-you don't have to baby. It's okay” He let out a shaky breath.

“I want to. All you have to do is relax. You've been the boss all day. Let me have my turn.” Your thumb grazed the growing bulge under his sweats before pulling both his boxers and pants down in one swift motion.

“Ahh” He whimpered, low eyes watching as you stroked his length a few times before your lips parted, kissing his tip as your tongue swiped up the precum.

“Baby, please” He whined, hips bucking as you swirled your tongue around his frenum piercing.

As badly as you wanted to tease him till he cried, you knew he was due for a break. Allowing your gathered saliva to slide onto his length as you shined his dick, fingers wrapped tightly around his base as you slowly took him in your mouth, getting halfway before letting your hands do the rest as you bobbed your head.

His chest heaving as you took more every time your head came up to lick along his slit.

He was needy. You could tell by the soft whimpers he tried so hard to contain whenever you took him out of your mouth to suck on his balls, tongue circling his ass for a quick second before coming back up to wrap your mouth around him.

“D-don't stop, mommy” He whined as you widened his legs, thumb applying pressure to his aching hole as you took him fully into your mouth.

You couldn't tell if it was the blowjob, the pressure to his puckered hole, or the mixture of the two as he cried and whimpered, thighs tensing as his dick jumped in your mouth, salty cum filling your mouth.

Letting him slide from your mouth with a pop, you kissed along the underside of his dick, tounge running over his veins as you stroked the last few drops of cum from him.

“What do you want baby?” You coaxed him, looking up into his needy eyes while rubbing soothing shapes into his thighs.

“Need you to fuck me, mommy, please” He whined, slowly pumping his dick with a tight grip.

He eagerly followed you to your shared bedroom, patiently spread out on the bed while you fished out your favorite pink confetti strap and a bottle of lube from your closet.

You couldn't help but smile down at him as you situated yourself between his legs. It took weeks of begging him to at least think about allowing you to do this, finally caving when he felt your tongue accidentally graze over his ass one night while giving him head.

Nothing would ever top him fucking you from behind when it came to your sexual encounters but having him needy and whiny under you as he begged you to go faster definitely came second.

Apologizing for the cool sensation of the lube you prepped him, basking in the way his standing dick twitched when your thumb slid in. After coaxing a second orgasm from him just from foreplay you squeezed a large amount of the gooey substance onto the dildo, coating the object before slowly easing into him.

You took care to tease him with slow, deliberate strokes, your fingers tightly wrapped around the base of his dick as you stroked him with the same pace of your thrust. Green eyes staring up at you as he moaned for more.

“Tell me how it feels, baby.” You murmured, watching him squirm.

“Feels- fuck feels so good, mommy” He whimpered, abs tensing as your fingers ghosted over his tip.

“Yeah?” You smirked, free hand gliding up his abs to pinch his tiny pink buds as you increased your pace. His grip tightening on the sheets as he panted your name.

“H-harder, please” He moaned, trembling under you.

Who were you to deny your boy? Changing positions you gave him exactly what he asked. A hand wrapped around his dick as your hips ricochet off of his cheeks. Your name left his lips in whiny muffled cries as he arched back into you. The sound of wet slaps echoed through the room as he cried from pleasure.

“C-can't hold it anymore, mommy” You already knew he was close, his dick twitching with every thrust and stroke.

“I know, baby, let go” Your fingers wrapped tightly around his base, thumb circling his sensitive tip.

“Fuck- nghh” He became a moaning mess, cum spurting on your hands and the sheets as you milked him dry.

Slowly retracting from him, you licked your fingers clean, kissing up his back as you whispered I love you's and praises, before helping him clean up and change the sheets.

With a smile on your face, you climbed into bed next to him.

“Feel better?” You pecked his lips, giggling at the slap earned on your ass, as he deepened the kiss. He truly just needed his frustration fucked out of him to get back to his usual self.

“Almost” He smirked.

“Almost? And what would make you better than this?” You asked, confused by the mischievous glint in his eyes.

“Sit on my face?”

[instacarma0798]

Four times you almost admit your feelings for Natasha, and one time you do

Summary - To you, Natasha was an angel, to her you were just a friend.

Words: Just over 3k

Warnings: Blood

A/N: Idk if anyone will, but I need writing ideas, so if y'all have any feel free to send them over

You were known around SHIELD for your tact, or lack thereof, when it came to someone you liked. Throughout your ten years there, you had become a level eight agent, one of the high ranking. While most SHIELD agents worked in groups, strike teams, you preferred to work alone - it was faster and easier. One of the most infamous teams was Clint Barton and Natasha Romanoff, two of your friends.

The three of you, plus Maria, Bobbi, Coulson and Laura sat on couches in the Barton's house. Nate squealed as Clint swung him around, pretending to be a rocket ship and threw him on the couch next to Laura.

"Again!" he cried happily, clapping his hands together, "Again!"

Laura laughed, the sound soft and filled with a certain motherly love. You hoped you could laugh like that one day. Subconsciously, your eyes drifted towards Natasha. Her red hair was let down, cascading just past her shoulders as she tilted her head back to take a swig of beer, her green eyes sparkling with enjoyment that could light up a thousand dark rooms. She noticed you looking at her, smirking at you with those red lips that always seemed to be twisted into a smirk when she looked at you.

"Time for bed mister," Laura growled playfully, snatching up Nate, "You guys start on presents, I'll be back."

"Woo!" Clint let out a whoop, a more carefree side shown of him when around friends and family, but it could also be attributed to the few drinks he had. Maria rolled her eyes, swatting him on his shoulder to sit him down. She herself was without a drink, instead choosing to sip on the occasional water. Coulson held him down affectionately, gently taking the drink from him and placing it on the table.

They had done secret Santa this year, everyone secretly getting assigned their own person for gifts. Bobbi went first, giving her gift to Maria, which was a gun holster, matte black with blue accents. Coulson had Bobbi, having gotten the woman a brand new set of batons. Maria had Clint, getting him a pair of earplugs, an inside joke that caused a laugh throughout the room. Clint had you, giving you a mug that said, "Best Partner", to which Natasha scoffed since you weren't even his partner. And you had Natasha.

You gently placed a small box into her palms, seeing little scars littering them. She took it carefully, smiling at you as you returned to your seat. Her slender fingers untied to bow as you waited with baited breath, and she pried open the box.

Just a few weeks ago, you had gotten it for her, considering it a present when you would tell her you liked her, and yet you chickened out, giving it to her now instead. It was a gold bracelet with an hourglass symbol as a charm in the center. She took it delicately in her hands, flipping it over and her eyes examining it.

"I love it," she declared, looking up at you with a soft grin.

I love you, you nearly said, but held back at the audience. Despite that, Maria was looking at you with a knowing look, her brows slightly furrowed.

"Thanks," you swallowed, "I'm glad."

^______________^

The world felt fuzzy as the blackness behind your eyes cleared, bright lights shining down on you. You blinked, trying to clear the blinding white that seared into your pupils. After a brief moment, the lights dimmed and were replaced with an angel.

At least, she looked like an angel. Natasha stood above you with a soft, teasing smirk, and muscular arms folded across her chest.

"Hey," she greeted, leaning back, her red hair swaying as she did so, "How you feeling?"

"Good," you slurred, your mouth still sore from getting your wisdom teeth removed, "drugged."

Natasha laughed, the sound lighting up the room and bringing a sparkle to her eyes, "Well duh," she rolled her eyes playfully at you, "You're still on some painkillers." You grumbled, words hard to form right now with your back gums so sore, "Steve went out and got smoothies, I brought yours up here," she held up a smoothie cup filled with pink liquid.

She reached to your bedside table, grabbing her own drink as she passed you yours. Her lips wrapped around it, slurping up the last of the drink. You drank your own, faintly aware of Natasha's eyes on you. A small groan escaped your mouth, the smoothie was absolutely divine.

"That good?" she teased.

You nodded your head, loose strands of hair brushing against your cheek. Reaching forward, Natasha brushed it back behind your ear, a soft smile on her face. A fiery brush lit up your cheeks, one that caused Natasha to smirk once more.

"I'll leave you be, call if you need anything ok?"

"Nooo," you whined in your drugged state, "stay with me."

A laugh burst from her mouth once more as she stood from her seat, "I can't, I have stuff to do."

You pouted, a few words on the tip of your tongue, but I love you. You barely refrained from saying them, a clear bit of sense holding back. Natasha sauntered out of the room, taking the brightness with her.

^_____________^

Your legs burned as you weaved through fallen bodies, victims of the whirlwind that you, Natasha and Clint were. As your fingers reloaded your gun, depositing the empty cartridge with practiced ease, even as your heart raced inside your ribcage, you pressed your index finger into your comm.

"Romanoff, Barton, come in?"

Static answered you, the sound crinkling in your ear. You cursed, positioning your hands on your gun as it was reloaded, rounding the corner carefully. More bodies greeted you as they scattered the floor with Hydra logos decorating their helmets and gear. Blood wept from their wounds, a silent testimony to their ruthless death.

"Romanoff?" you called again.

Only now did you realize how hoarse your voice was from smoke inhalation and screaming over the gun fire, words scrapping against the walls of your throat. A wound bled from the base of your leg, seeping into the pools on the floor. Ignoring the pain, you tried again on the comms, this time receiving a voice.

"Y/L/N?" Natasha voice was shaky, one of the rare times you heard it like that, "Where are you?"

"Romanoff?" your fingers pressed the comm into your ear, "Where are you? Where's Barton?"

"Clint's calling evac, I'm on the west side near the exit."

You stumbled over a body, your legs losing their speed as your lungs burned, "Understood, on my way."

The corridors tried to lead you the wrong way wherever you went, and despite how morbid it was, you simply followed the trail of bodies. After what felt like forever, although probably just a couple minutes, you caught a flash of red hair.

"Romanoff!" you called, forcing your legs to pick up.

As you rounded the corner, Natasha whipped around, her red hair brushing against her face and scrunching around her cheeks. It was a mess; stray strands having fallen out of her ponytail that sat atop her head.

"You're ok," she breathed, rushing over to grab your shoulders. You ignored the flutter in your stomach at her touch when she grabbed your cheeks softly and turned your head side to side. "Are you hurt?" she asked, staring into your eyes.

"No," you scoffed, regretfully batting her hands away, "I'm fine. Are you hurt?"

You ignored the sting in your leg as you did a quick check on her.

"No," Natasha shook her head, "Come on, let's get out of here."

She turned around ready to leave, her slender fingers grasping your hand, tugging you along. Before either of you could take a step, a gunshot echoed throughout the corridor. You barely had time to think before you shoved Natasha to the ground, forcing her out of the way of fire.

You gasped as you felt blood drip down your back and front. Your fingers came up to grasp your stomach as another gunshot came off. Natasha had a snarl on her face as she had her gun raised and pointed at the attacker. Faintly, you heard a body fall behind you, smacking onto the concrete floor - just another victim of the Black Widow. Scrambling off the ground, Natasha caught you before you fell. A strangled gasp of pain escaped you when her hands pressed on the wound in the center of your back.

"Sorry," she whispered, lowering you to the ground, "sorry."

You whined as the gunshot was pressed onto the hard floor, pushing on the bleeding skin and leaving an imprint.

"It hurts," you whimpered.

While you were a high level SHIELD agent, it wasn't often you got wounds like this.

"I know," Natasha soothed, her hands pressed down on your front, "I know. Hang ok? Clint's got evac coming. Talk to me, what are you doing this weekend?"

The corners of your vision turned blurry and black while you processed her words. Rather than answering her question, you reached down to grab one of her hands, looking at it carefully. Blood coated her pale skin and perfect nails, your blood. It dripped down to the bracelet on her wrist, the golden one you got her for Christmas, coating the sparkling chain in a sticky layer of blood.

"Hey," she pulled her hand away, "Don't look."

Your eyes fluttered shut before you regretfully opened them when Natasha shook you.

"Alright," she said, removing her hands from your wound, "Put your hands there." She ordered. You did as she said, pressing your hand onto the gunshot.

Natasha placed one hand under your leg, and the other under your back, coating her arm in the blood back there. You winced, almost crying out in pain as she lifted you up bridal style. The redhead grimaced at your pain, readjusting you to be more comfortable. Your head fell onto her chest, eyes drooping shut.

Her breath was warm as she muttered, "You stupid idiot, why would you do that?" She glanced down at you with a scowl, one that forced your eyes to open all the way.

"Because your my friend." you muttered, eyes falling shut. While really all you wanted to say was, 'Because I love you.'

"Stay awake," she ordered, her footsteps steady as she carried you.

"Don't want to." you grumbled, eyes falling shut once more.

^_______________^

A sleek dress fit your form as you laughed, leaning back onto the couch. Tony stood atop the coffee table, iron man gauntlet in hand as he chugged a shot, whooping and hollering. The rest of the avengers, plus Maria and Pepper sat around you, their laughter echoing.

Your gun wound had healed nicely, leaving two lumpy scars on either side of your body.

Tony jumped down, his grin crazed and hair wild, "You know what?" his tone was louder than necessary, "We should play Spin the bottle."

It was met with a round of groans, yet Clint grabbed an empty beer bottle and placed it onto the coffee table where Tony once stood, spinning it first. Clint grinned as it landed on Maria, the look teasing - almost like a younger brother.

Maria grimaced, "No." She shook her head as Clint neared her, sticking her hands out, "Not happening." Clint batted her hands away, leaning in and giving her a quick peck on her cheek.

Making a disgusted face, complete with a scrunched nose and furrowed brows, Maria shoved Clint to the floor. The archer fell with a grunt, pouting up at Maria as she wiped her cheek with the back of her hand.

"Your turn!" Tony crowed, gesturing eagerly at Maria. He once again held a new drink, a glass cup filled the brim with some alcoholic substance, "And it has to be on the lips now!"

Pepper pulled Tony down when he had stood, forcing him to sit on the couch. While she rolled her eyes, Maria still spun the bottle, the glass stuttered to a stop with the nose pointing towards Natasha. The brunette raised a brow at the assassin, looking for permission, and when the redhead shrugged, Maria gave her a peck on the lips. There was the slightest blush on Maria's cheeks as she walked back to her seat.

"I guess that means it's my turn," Natasha shrugged as she spun the bottle loosely.

It spun slowly around the table, the nose slowing to a stop right in front of you. You twisted in your seat when Natasha did the same, your knees brushing together. The redhead looked at you questioningly, making sure it was ok. You nodded. Heat creeped up the back of your neck, tinting the tips of your ears.

The redhead leaned in, a faint smirk on her thin lips. She placed a chaste kiss on your lips and you could faintly taste her lipstick. It ended all to soon when she pulled away, leaning back into the seat. By now you felt like your neck was on fire. Tony laughed, cackled really, as he took a sip of his drink.

"Someone got a crush?" he asked, gesturing towards you, his words slurring slightly.

"No!" You protested, crossing your arms, "I do not!" You really did.

Tony made a disbelieving noise and Maria looked at you skeptically. Ignoring them, and the fiery blush on your cheeks accompanied by Natasha smirk, you spun the bottle.

^_______________^

The Hulk roared as he was set loose, strands of Bruce's clothing flying. Bullets wiped around you as he took off, smashing the turrets that fired at the group. Dirt coated your face, mixing in with the blood as you sat crouched behind a dirt hill, pistol in one hand and a knife strapped to your side. Natasha sat panting next to you, her suit stained in blood that would once again wash out.

Steve and Tony were no where to be seen and Clint wasn't here. Steve was most likely already in the base, having attacked from the other side. This was supposed to be simple, take out a base and leave, but you had received the wrong information and walked into an ambush. Beside you, you could heard the click of her gun as Natasha reloaded and checked her widow bites.

"How many do you have left?" you asked. Your voice was breathy as you heaved for air.

Natasha took a minute to reply, "Five widow bites and ten bullets."

"Take this," you tossed her your spare magazine.

It was probably a stupid thing, but you still had a full one in your gun. You would manage. Natasha scowled at you, but didn't argue. Well, she didn't have time to argue because you launched yourself over the hill the minute gunfire paused. Sliding down, your feet carried you forward, body ready for a fight. The Hulk bellowed ahead, destroying all the turrets that stood in the way. Natasha was hot on your heels, catching up quickly. The battle field was eerily empty, sure you had The Hulk, but it was odd it was this empty. Faintly, there were gunshots that echoed through the valley, and finally you caught sight of Tony flying above you.

"Tony?" You pressed your finger into your comm, firmly securing it back into your ear from when it had fallen out.

"Y/N?" he responded, and you saw him glance down at you and Natasha, "How are you guys holding up?"

Natasha had passed you by the time you responded, "We've been better."

"Speak for yourself," Natasha scoffed playfully.

"Steve is working on securing the other side of the base, I'm going to go help him."

"Copy that."

While he was out of sight, you could still hear The Hulk smashing small shelters around the base. You and Natasha skidded to a halt when you came face to face with large metal doors, looming ominously above you, burrowed into a large hill.

"Wouldn't it be nice if these were just unlocked?" you joked, catching your breath.

Natasha rolled her eyes, tugging at the doors. They opened with a creak and Natasha glanced at you with a confused look, causing you to shrug helplessly. The two of you entered cautiously, guns and widow bites ready to fire. Yet, nothing came. A cold chill blasted into your faces as you crept through the door. The hall was dark, illuminated only by a few lights on the concrete walls. There was a single door at the end of the hall.

"Well this is ominous."

You received no response as Natasha crept forward, with you following behind.

The door in front of you burst open, vines sprouting forward and encompassing the walls. Natasha scrambled back, shoving you with her. The vines, coated in brown thrones, tore through the room, just barely missing you. A woman, really a girl, stood in front of the destroyed door. A collar was wrapped around her neck and her eyes dazed. She eyed you and Natasha with horror, her hands shaking.

"Leave!" she cried, "It's a trap! Please leave!"

"Hey," you soothed, "It's ok." You raised your hands in a gesture of peace as you slowly crept forward.

"Y/N." Natasha warned behind you, her gun raised.

"No!" the girl screamed, taking a step back, "Leave!"

"We can help," you told her.

Before you could comprehend what was happening, there was a sharp pain in your stomach. You glanced down with strangled breath. A vine, coated in bloody spikes, slowly slid out of your stomach. The girl let out a cry of pain as you slumped to the ground. Blood poured from the wound as you heard Natasha call for backup.

She sprinted past you. Your vision blurred. You heard Tony whizzing in as blood pooled onto the ground around you. Coughing, blood splattered on your chin. You weren't sure how long it was before Natasha kneeled next to you.

"Hey," she whispered, pulling your head into her lap, "Hey look at me."

You blinked, trying to focus your vision, "I don't want to die." Tears welled in your eyes.

"You're not dying," Natasha said harshly, "You're not."

Coughing once more, blood splattered onto her.

"I don't want to die," you cried, clinging to her as she pressed her hands on the wound, "Please Talia."

You weren't ready to die. You still hadn't told Natasha you loved her. You didn't want to die. You didn't want to die.

"Tony!" Natasha screamed, "Do something!"

Tony stood off to the side, staring at you in horror, "Nat..." he trailed off.

"No," she shook her head violently, "You're going home."

You looked at her green eyes, shining with tears as she looked down at you. Her face was still coated in dirt, little specks of blood from when you coughed. The world felt so fuzzy. Your mind cleared; you were dying. You were going to die and there was nothing she could do about it.

Shaky fingers reached up to cup her face, catching some her beautiful red hair in you bloody fingertips, "I love you," you whispered.

She freezes her frantic movements. With wide eyes she moved her eyes from your stomach to your face.

"I-" she hesitated.

"Don't just say it back cause I'm dying," the words were forced past your lips, just barely making it through your wheezing breaths.

"No," she said harshly, "Don't say, you're not dying."

"Nat-"

"I love you."

The words were all you needed to succumb to blackness edging the corners of your vision and blur in your brain. Natasha screamed your name, pain lacing her tone as your eyes closed.

"Y/N!"

She pressed her head to your chest, searching for a heartbeat, and yet she only met with the sticky feeling of blood.

[clare-875]

He Loves Me (Zoro x Reader)

_____ Pairing: Zoro x Reader Summary: The different ways Zoro shows that he loves you. Warnings: Fluff, slightly suggestive in some parts? Notes: The above images do NOT belong to me, Female Reader [One Piece Masterlist] _____

People often think that because Zoro seemed so frequently serious or emotionally distanced, he was incapable of offering love. So, when you and he started to date, it was a surprise to almost everyone who knew of the two of you. Even those around you who knew him best, namely your beloved crew, would tease even the faintest flush of his cheeks when he was caught looking at you, as though it were some sort of miracle. Some members would even ask if he truly reciprocated the love you so blatantly showed for the green-haired swordsman because the concept of Zoro and the notion of 'love' didn't really click. They knew he loved his swords and was dedicated to the crew and his dreams but that type of devotion seemed foreign and unlikely. You knew that their words came from a place of concern; concern that you were in a one-sided relationship. However, what your crew failed to notice is how Zoro loved. Sure, maybe he wouldn't blabber sweet words or openly display physical affection beyond your rooms, but within the confines of you and him you see it; he loves you.

Zoro loves through thoughts of you.

Before you, Zoro thought his only ambitions in life were to stay devoted to his Captain and to become the world's greatest swordsman. Love was a concept that hadn't even crossed his mind, he had never been tempted with it nor had he ever been driven to consider it. But then he met you. He saw your sweet smile, your doe eyes, your kindness, your beautiful demeanour. Suddenly, he could only mock the love-drunk cook half-heartedly, because though he would never show it, you were all that clouded his mind. Through workouts that he was so usually lost in, he found himself losing count of the amount of times he swung his weights forward; his thoughts drifting to you. The naps that usually brought nothing but peace from the rowdy crew suddenly became overwhelmed by images of you in his arms, or in his bed. So, when the months had passed and he learned from Robin's constant but subtle teasing that maybe he was in love, imagine his surprise when you confessed that you were too. Even now, when the two of you had been together for more than a year, his thoughts were littered and lingered with you; every movement and action with you at the forefront of his mind.

Zoro loves through his attentive stare, always watching for you.

It could be on days when countless enemies threatened your lives. It could be on days so serene you could not envision anything going wrong. Either way, it didn't matter. Zoro's senses were always perceptive and ready to protect, even when danger was not imminent. During quiet days when the crew set sail over the open seas, Zoro always kept one eye open. He always searched through the muddled voices of the crew for yours. One yelp or one surprised gasp had his heart pounding. It was his sixth sense. He would get up to search for you instantly, even if you had only gotten caught up in a harmless prank or got a papercut paging through books; even if all he had to offer was a roll of his eyes or muttered words, "be more careful woman," when he found you. You didn't know of the crew's shock as he seemingly vanished from the place where he lay to come in search of you. You didn't hear the rapid spike of his heart. Zoro knew you were strong, but he also knew how easily he could lose someone close to him. He had experienced it with Kuina; he would die before he experienced it with you.

Zoro loves through the trust he so willingly gives to you.

Zoro wouldn't love anyone who was not as devoted to the crew, to improving themselves or who didn't have the will and evidence to call themselves worthy of the Straw Hat Crew. You were capable and loyal, thus you were worth his trust both on the battlefield and in his heart. It was shown through countless battles where you fought off powerful enemies, protected less combat-focused crew members and provided emotional consolation atop burdens you held yourself. He trusted you to handle your battles and knew of the pride that came with it; you were his respected partner. His trust would even extend off the battlefield. He would trust you to look after his prized swords and he would trust your word; he doesn't even know the meaning of jealousy. He would watch in rowdy bars as you get two drinks and the fifth man that night approaches. Zoro sees it as a compliment, you were beautiful. But he watches with pride as you turn another man away from you and walk back to his side. The only movements he would make were when men go too touchy, too confident in their drunkenness. Zoro would have them bleeding to the floor before they uttered another filthy word as they tried and failed to pry away the trust that was so concrete in his mind, so obvious in the kiss you would grant him afterwards.

Zoro loves through quiet and hidden intimacy.

Zoro was not one to show open physical affection with the likes of the crew or strangers he could care less for. Only in quiet and drunken evenings would he maybe let slip, wrapping an arm around your waist tightly and placing sloppy kisses along your neck. Well, only for Sanji to then start screaming incoherently at the sight of him, to which a drunken argument would soon take place. Normally, behind closed doors, you saw Zoro's love for you more blatantly. You didn't have to have perceptive eyes when you could feel his lips on yours, hungrily mingling with your tongue and your skin. People would never question his devotion in countless nights spent with his tight grip against your wrists, his swift movement against you, uttered words of praise whispered in your ear. His love was shown in the marks that he gifts you and the ones you would try to cover under the light of day. His love was obvious in his wide smirk as you trace the scratches upon his back, your love etched within them. You see the shock around you when he walks shirtless and proud, displaying your work as though it were a given. You hear more screaming from Sanji, see a frozen Nami as she observes the sight, and a teasing smile from Robin as she turns to you, "Oh my..."

Zoro loves through the dream of you.

In return for the trust he so easily receives from you, he returns it with his devotion. Everyone knows of Zoro's loyalty to Luffy and his goal, but they were the only things that could best his loyalty to you. All else didn't matter to him; you were his end game. People could try to take his eyes away from you, but it would be for naught because his gaze was stubborn. How could it not be? You were beautiful, strong, kind, loving. Zoro never thought that he would even consider a life outside of the straw hat crew, but he created the dream just for you. Images of you and him together through every age and every trial. You and him after he achieved his goal and witnessed his Captain do the same. After that, you would be all that mattered to him, the only dream that he had left. He even considered smaller versions of you and him running about, you swelled with his child, your motherly form. He dreamed of owning a dojo and waking to you each day, he dreamed of you and him and two rings on your fingers, a quiet ceremony held to seal your love and his. He dreams of him old in his age watching the sun fall to the depths of the horizon with you by his side, years of life upon your form but still beautiful nonetheless. It was his most private dream, but one he found desiring the most.

It was an impossible dream to him before he knew of you. Now, he has you in his arms and you are distracted by exhaustion, not seeing but feeling Zoro's gaze on you. You had murmured words about your day to him but as the night dragged on you found your words become more slurred, ready for sleep to take you. He simply watched as your excited blabbering seeped into slow utterances, but he didn't mind. He loved the sight of you in his arms. He loved the sound of your voice. You look up to glimpse at him and he meets your gaze easily. You see flickers of adoration and a glimmer of emotion in his eyes as he breathes in the existence of you. And you could never question it, you could never wander of his love as others would. But you supposed it was an honour, to love the swordsman and have his love for you returned. "You love me." Your words are tainted with fatigue as you push your face into his chest, relishing the warmth that he so easily provides. Zoro rolls his eyes as though dismissing your words but pulls you closer to him anyway, and that is enough for you to know and for him to show that he does; he loves you. You would rarely hear it. However, as the moments pass in peaceful silence, and when Zoro thinks that time would have surely taken you from your consciousness and into the depths of sleep he murmurs it within your hair.

"I love you."

[creganslover]

Woman Like You

Pairing: Cregan Stark x Fem! Warrior! Reader

Requested?: Yes/No

Summary: Skilled as a warrior like your husband, you both made the dangerous pair... the latest battle proves just how much you mean to him.

Word count: 1.6k

Warning/s: canon-typical violence, graphic descriptions of violence, mentions of blood and death, near character death, cregan being whipped for his woman

Note: loved making this omg

GIF is not mine, credits to the owner!

It had been a harrowing battle, not knowing left from right, up from down as bodies rallied against one another, the clash and clinging of swords ringing in your ears, horses whinnying as their rider had been dismounted only to be slain. 

The amount of bodies falling over with no longer a life to them, and there you also stood fighting, a female warrior, married to Cregan Stark, the two of you making the dangerous pair through your cunning skills and Cregan’s exposure to battle.

Now both of you were fighting under the Queen Rhaenyra’s banners, honouring the oath Rickon Stark, Cregan’s late father had made under Viserys’ proclamation for Rhaenyra as his heir. 

Before the battle had started, you were in your shared tent with Cregan, as the troops were began to be rounded up to march, a thousand of his greybeards and your own army of blackwings, the two of you preparing each other in their armour, the action done in silence as you both strapped your gears on. 

It was Cregan’s hand grabbing your wrist that made you halt your movements, your eyes finally meeting his. Both of you had trusted each other out and in the field, though both of you knew every battle forward had counted, and that you would treat it as the last. 

“Promise you will return to me.” Cregan’s husky voice spoke in a whisper, staring you down with a tender gaze, blue flecked with hazel eyes searching yours, grip momentarily tightening on your wrist to travel down to squeeze your hand. As done countless times, you reply, “Always.” Never failing to give him a smile, making him mirror it with a chuckle of relief at your reassurance. 

Until you had gotten separated from your husband in the heat of the battle, you two had held out well even when separated yet it felt like the enemies had just kept on coming, banging the end of your shield at your attacker’s face, sending them lunging back as you thrusted your sword in their stomach, cutting clean through before you had pulled it off, flecks of blood spraying as the man hurled in pain, dropping to the ground.

You had not known how long the battle had raged for, all that you knew was your muscles had begun to strain, dodging and putting on the offence as you could, dirt and blood scattered everywhere. 

Successfully putting down another opponent, another came rushing to you, sword slicing part of your arm, making you cry out as they had also managed to land a hard blow to your side, that would surely be a nasty bruise. 

Still, you were not as easily felled as they thought, managing to regain back your senses, adrenaline pumping within your veins as your grip on your sword had tightened, letting out a yell as you swung and advanced, hitting left to right, sword slicing efficiently at the man’s side as you threw your broken shield away, holding your sword, Ashbringer, in both hands before thrusting it upon the man’s neck, blood running down the steel of your sword before pulling it out. 

That’s when a series of arrows had been launched into the sky, not knowing which was which as you tried to deflect some by grabbing your shield yet again, though an arrow had already dug itself onto the back of your shoulder, making you groan, using your strength to cover yourself with your shield as the arrows had landed. 

When the arrows had stopped, your mind had fogged, vividly you saw Cregan’s face in your mind as the words he had uttered to you hours before rang. 

Return to me 

・・・・・

Cregan had litters of bodies lay around him as he became the opposing side’s target, knowing his worth and they had intended to cut him off. His broad form swung his sword Ice, not opting for a shield as it only hindered his movements. 

His men yelled around him, his graybeards killing tens of the opponents as they had only managed to fell a few of Cregan’s men. They were winning, they had the upper hand. Cregan only needed to push a little further, and all of this would cease. 

“The Lady!” 

“Keep Fighting!”

“Arrows inbound!”

Cregan felt his blood suddenly run hot, head snapping around him as the shouts grew in intensity, until his eyes spot a distant blur. You as he looked to the sky to find rains of arrows, making Cregan react and haul a body from the ground, using it as his shield as bouts of arrows pierced through its body, his eyes wide and alert and searching for you. 

He was able to see you defending yourself, staggering, an arrow on the back of your shoulder, the pained look on your face.

Cregan saw red. 

The rumbling in his chest grew to a roar as he screamed, throwing the arrow-clad body to the ground before he shouted. “You want me? Come get me!” 

Enemies turned their heads towards him as Cregan swung Ice at the oncoming assailants, ignoring the burning in his whole body as he and his sword had moved as once, determined to get to you, his wife. He was covered in dirt and blood that wasn’t his, except for the minor cuts on his face, and the bruises he had felt forming onto his body. 

Alas his enemies fell one by one as his men fought valiantly, Cregan making his way to you as he managed to grab you in time before you fell, careful to handle the arrow still peeking from behind your shoulder. 

The battle had begun to die down, Cregan still holding you in his arms as he looked at you, his heart never wavered in battle nor showed vulnerability before, now it did as he shook you lightly, inspecting you. “(Y/N),” he repeated before his men had spotted the scene, immediately calling for aid. 

“Stay with me, as you promised.” Cregan breathed. 

・・・・・

Darkness. That’s all you could see, with your body feeling light as a feather. 

It felt like you were floating on some void, where it held nothing but peace. You tried reaching out, but a flicker of orange lit in the distance, a smooth glow, followed by the smell of the forest trees, like a campfire. 

You watched as the orange glow began to scatter, spreading the dark void with its own colour, and then you sensed some sort of pull, until it had become stronger. 

Your eyes opened. Blurry at first, blinking a few more moments as everything slowly began to sink in, body feeling numb as you tried to shift on the cot. Looking around your surroundings, you were in your tent, back at camp perhaps? 

A woman stood by the table, preparing her herbs, a healer, you recognized. It was your healer Taisa, and when she had turned around, her eyes widened as she placed the bowl hurriedly back down. “My lady!” She said in surprise, knowing she had been commanded by Lord Stark himself to alert him if his wife had awoken at once. 

Taisa was already running out the tent before you could utter a single word, or yet you were unable to from your body still processing what it had went through.

Your shoulder was bandaged that wrapped around your torso peeking from your loose tunics, along with your left arm that had blood starting to soak through as you moved, making you groan as you assessed yourself. 

Cregan had been manning the map room, along with the other lords and their army in ally, pacing around and spewing all kinds of forms of defenses and offenses, it had been hours since the battle had ceased, taking in few left live opponents as prisoners. 

Cregan was pacing until the tent flap shifted, revealing Taisa, Cregan immediately halting, she had not even uttered a single sound out her mouth. 

You were awake.

“My lords,” Cregan only said as he rounded the table, ducking out the tent as he forced himself to navigate his way to the tent you were in. His heart pounding near his ears as a few steps more he’d be inside, pushing through the flaps, and there you did lay, eyes open, face harbouring an expression of fatigue. 

Cregan wasted no time gliding towards you, taking you in and slowly grabbing your right uninjured hand as he knelt in front of the cot, gaze scanning you all over. “Wife.” His voice faltered. 

“Husband.” You managed to croak out, moving to sit up which Cregan refused to let you but you won in the end, now he was knelt in front of you as you sat. His huge rough hands, rid of their gloves now, enveloped yours, thumb stroking circles upon the back of your hands. 

You lift your right hand, coming to cradle his face, stroking the slight flush on the apple of his cheeks as he let out a heavy breath, closing his eyes, brows knitting as he leaned into your touch, showing his utter devotion to you and you only, making you smile.

“I thought I had lost you.” He voiced, eyes still closed, making you frown. “Look at me, Cregan.” You spoke, slowly regaining your voice back as Cregan’s eyes flickered open, staring into you. 

“You will not lose me, not now, not ever.” You began. “I’d wager it would take more to kill me.” You smirked, finding a way to still lighten a situation upon the brink of what could have been. 

The end of Cregan’s lip tugged upwards in amusement, his features softening as he chuckled, nodding along and finally letting himself relax with the fact that you were okay, you were going to live. He turned his head where your palm cradled his face, pressing his lips upon your palm before looking at you. 

“Aye, you are right. It would take more for a woman like you.”

[evilgwrl]

TF 141 x Reader (Apocalypse!AU)

Immune: Three

WARNING: This is a 18+ Poly!141 series (MDNI)

CW: Suggestive themes (smut is coming I promise)

I literally wrote a whole chapter and it deleted </3

Masterlist

You woke up, body slumped against the door as you groaned. The soft strum of pain vibrated through your lower back, the dull ache sending a small zap through you as you stood up.

Groggy eyes drifted to the stained window, the barely visible streak of sun peaking over the forest as you sighed, feet padding against the floors as soft creaks spoke back to you.

You stared in the mirror, dull eyes staring back. You rubbed your face, small streaks of sticky sleep dragging across your palms as you picked them off.

Mortification is all you could feel. Not only are four men in your house, but you touched yourself to one, and another walked in on you. MID ORGASM. You silently prayed they had packed up their stuff and left. Or maybe it never happened and Ghost hadn’t seen anything. Or maybe- fuck it. There wasn’t much use denying.

The chill of the water woke you up as you scrubbed vigorously, almost as if you could wash away the embarrassment you felt.

You dressed yourself before heading to the barn, the acreage becoming more and more visible by the minute as you fed the animals, collecting any eggs in your makeshift apron, before letting the horses roam in the paddock

You took note of the overcast, thick smog of clouds littering across the barely visible sky. You needed the rain, but you also knew it would make it harder for them to leave if it did.

Conjuring that it would make things easier if they woke up and you were gone, you cooked yourself breakfast before heading out, planning to target a small set of shops you were yet to raid, tucked away on a more secluded part of the area. In fear of waking them up, you rolled out the rusting bike from the garage, a small woven basket adorned with half broken flowers as you rolled the worn wheels onto the gravel road.

You didn’t take much with you. Only a bottle of water, a pistol (incase you magically needed it) and two apples as well the large backpack stitched on your back.

The trail was mostly flat, a few rocks causing you to wobble from time to time, but for the most part it was an enjoyable ride. The soft flicker of the sun stretched through the adorned trees, the heaviness of the clouds beginning to weigh on you as you peddled faster.

It was an hour or two trek, you believed, the roaring ache of your thighs begging for the needed break as you pulled into the abandoned town. Sometimes you expect people to run out, waving you down in celebration, but it never came.

You could hear the soft groans of nearby dead, wobbling their rotting limbs towards the bike before turning around. The tinkle of the rusted bell greeted you as you ducked through the aisles. It was a small store, only supplying anything for a couple hundred, most items expired now anyway, but it was worth a look.

You held your bag open, dumping a few cans of tinned vegetables in as well as a bag of sugar, a pack of razors and some long-life cartons of skim milk. With achy thighs, you jumped over the counter, mess everywhere, register half open with nothing inside. It was funny, even during an apocalypse people found the time for money.

You rattled at the metal knob on the staff door, growing frustrated when it wouldn’t budge before you began to kick, slamming your boots against it repeatedly before it eventually swung open. It might have taken you 15 minutes, but it was sure worth it as you snatched up the golden sweetness many would refer to as whiskey.

You headed off with a few other things, half open stock boxes tipped everywhere as your hands grabbed for anything that hadn’t expire, or was about to. With a heavier bag, and a smug smile on your face, you peddled your way home.

“Y’ think she got scared and buggered off?” Soap quipped, mouth half full with an apple, juices spurting across the room as Ghost glared back.

“If it wasn’t for him,” Gaz interjected, thumb pointing towards the masked-man, “she probably would have let us stay.”

Ghost rolled his eyes, replaying the scene in his head for the hundredth time. Sure, he should’ve knocked but he’s glad he didn’t. Half of him wanted her to ask him to stay, to fully satisfy her, to fully satisfy him.

“She wouldn’t have just packed up and left- put far too much effort into all this place to leave,” Price said, voice deeper than usual as he took a swig of water. Time ticked slowly as they waited around, searching every crevice of the house before they landed on a bow and arrow.

Soap snatched it, veiny hands clawing at the weapon as if it was gold. “What’dya say, LT? Fancy hunting some deer?”

“I ain’t hunting for anybody if I ain’t staying-“

“Go hunt a f’cking deer,” Price huffed.

The two me disappeared into the forest as Gaz stepped outside, bottom plonked in the barely comfortable porch chair. The Captain knew you would probably bitch them out, but a sick part of him wanted you to let them stay, wanted you to realise they were what you needed, that they magically landed on your farm for some Godforsaken purpose.

He would make you realise. He knew he would.

You felt like vomiting now, your bones burning as if they had clawed through your flesh, attempting to escape the treacherous journey that you forced yourself to endure.

You almost felt lost. Why did it feel so much longer on the way back?

You smiled to yourself softly as you passed the tree you marked a few months ago, the unmistakable smiley face almost greeting you. Your smile quickly faded when you felt a spit land on your cheek. And then another. And another. Until you were peddling faster as wet pellets hit the ground.

Slippery hands clutched the leather handles as you neared the entrance of the farm. You were drenched now, hair matted to your neck and face as you flicked it behind you, annoyed that you neglected your clip.

Your boots squelched against the ground as you slammed the garage door shut, weak arms clutching your bag as you swung it around your shoulder, weaving in and out of trees as you stumbled up the front steps.

Tumbling inside, you took note of the cleaner house, a small wrapped bowl of vegetables and a bowl of tomato soup (that was probably cold now) greeting you as you kicked off your boots. You stood over the sink as you scrunched your hair out, the trickle of water tapping as you shrugged off your coat, fumbling outside to hang it on the underground clothes line.

For a minute you thought they had left, no manly faces greeting you until you heard the soft clearing of a throat. “Made you some lunch,” he said.

“Thank you… Gaz, isn’t it?” Clammy hands gripped the bowls as you sat down on the couch, the lukewarm mixture sliding down your oesophagus.

“That’s right,” he replied, gentle smile adorning his face as he watched you, trying to observe you, almost as if you were a war criminal he wanted to break in. Military men, you thought.

You sat in silence, yet didn’t find it to be uncomfortable. Though Gaz was incredibly handsome, and well built, you almost felt comfortable in his presence and you couldn’t quite place why.

“Where did you go?” He asked, almost as if he was hesitant to speak. Your eyes flickered to his lap, hands gently rubbing together before rubbing against his denim-covered thighs. He has nice thighs.

“Uh, I went into a town.. bout two hours from here. Got a few things and I also just wanted to.. get out, I guess.”

He nodded.

Once you finished up, you braced yourself as you ran outside, yet found no horses frolicking frightened in the paddock. Fear ran through you as you sprinted to the barn, heavy footsteps slapping against the mud as you took in the closed door.

You let out a shaky sigh, relieved, when you saw two large, longer heads staring at you from inside, the gentle squawks of hens sounding across the room.

“I hope you don’t mind that I put them inside, figured you would hav’ done that anyway when you got back.” You jumped at the voice, body jolting as you snapped your head.

Price stood there, rough hands clutching a wooden broom as he swept, a beanie now plonked on his head instead of the hat he greeted you with.

“Uh- thanks. Yeah, they’re afraid of the rain.”

“Y’r a good owner, picking up the slack after they were abandoned.”

“I guess so,” you conceded. You looked at him, taking in the way his eyes flickered down your drenched frame, a cerulean blue darkening into a navy.

“Y’r wet.” His tone was sharp, even while stating the obvious, a visible clench of his jaw causing you to tense as you wobbled, suddenly nervous under his gaze.

“Well, I was out in the rain,” you said, almost like it wasn’t the most obvious thing in the world. You looked away but could feel him walking closer to you.

“Y’r gonna catch a cold if you don’t change.”

“I’ll survive,” you replied, your voice now dropping to a low whisper. You looked at him, his stare heavy, almost like it was weighting you down. He smiled at you, a hand reaching out before it landed on the flesh of your waist, squeezing as you felt the familiar heat you encountered last night, prickling through you again.

Your breathing was shallow, an occasional hick passing through you as his hand lingered. “Pretty thing, hm?” He gestured, nodding towards your chest as you noticed the faint outline of the rose-coloured brassiere you chose today. You blushed and you were sure you looked silly, a red hue across your face as you barely stuttered a reply.

You turned, almost feeling like you were about to choke. Feeling betrayed by your own body, you pressed your thighs together and you were sure he noticed.

“Y’n need any help staying warm,” he began, “just tell me, sweetheart.”

[cythena]

INVITE ONLY

❥ — ꒰ notes ꒱ megumi fushiguro x fem!reader, not really any warnings tbh, smut, college au, outdoor sex, he pulls out

❥ — ꒰ synopsis ꒱ nobara took you to some illegal racing night and you catch the winner’s eye ; 1.5k words

you didn’t mind hanging out with nobara. she told you about this underground bike racing scene she wanted to go to. it was a friday night, you’d needed something to relax you. so you dressed up. it wasn’t the most but it was certainly enough. you borrowed nobara’s knee high boots to pair with your miniskirt. you threw on a long sleeve too.

“you look so hot, y/n. i’d so take you home tonight,” nobara cheered.

you laughed and grabbed your phone. “maybe you should, cause i’d definitely let you.”

“maki is already outside, come on.”

the setting was not what you expected. it started outside a large warehouse. the huge doors were open on both sides. the designated spectators section was brightly lit with neon purple street lamps. the audience was full of drunk college kids. the asphalt was littered with shotgunned cans.

maki and nobara dragged you to the front. there you could see the line up of bikes. drivers leaned against theirs, all with one or two girls drooling over them. except one, who seemed to arrive just as you did.

he pulled up closest to you and your friends. his hands removed the black helmet from his head. upon removal, he shook his slightly flattened hair to where it stood back up naturally. his long lashes fluttered as he blinked.

he caught your attention as he kicked the kickstand. you were looking at something on nobara’s phone. he swung his leg over to stand up. that’s when a few girls appeared in front of him. his unamused eyes glanced around the group of them.

he crouched down to make some adjustments to his bike. you could see his name “fushiguro” spread across the back of his shoulders.

his bike was so pretty, you thought. it was gorgeous. the onyx material on the outside with shimmering dark blue accents matched his leather outfit. now that you got a good look at him, he was just a pretty.

looking at the timer, only about a minute remained until the race started. fushiguro ignored any questions directed toward him. he focused on sitting himself back on his bike. his head turned to you right before he secured his helmet on. you caught a glimpse of his blue eyes before they disappeared under the black screen.

engines revved as the countdown began. at the buzzer and the drag of the checkered flag, in an instant that man was gone.

so you looked over to nobara, confused on what to do now. you couldn’t see the race anymore. so your friend pulled you over to a group of others. so it was just like a party until you could see the winners.

that familiar black and blue bike was the first to cross the finish line. he curved his bike towards the crowd. several others finished but only after he had the time to step off and walk over. walk to where he stopped right in front of you.

he took off his helmet again and tucked it under his arm.

“what’s your name?” he asked.

“y/n.”

“fushiguro.”

“your bike is pretty,” you said trying to avoid any silence. you moved your head to see it over his shoulder.

“wanna ride it?” he didn’t break eye contact. you did when you looked over to maki and nobara. maki nodded and waved her phone.

megumi unzipped his jacket as you stood in front of his bike. he draped the leather over your shoulders now.

“gets cold, ‘n wear this too.” he held his helmet over your head.

“but you-”

he stopped you. “i’ll be fine.” he secured the helmet to your head now before lifting his leg over the seat. he turned his head over his shoulder. you placed a hand on the back seat for balance.

once seated, you hesitantly wrapped your arms around him. he pulled them tighter around his stomach. you felt every dip of his defined muscles underneath his shirt.

he revved his engine and broke the low hum from the engine. his hands twisted the throttle once more. he squeezes your hand briefly. the bike surges forward down the track. wind blew at your face and uncovered skin. it wasn’t painful, just cold.

the road traveled through a forest for a short moment. megumi took a turn off the path. he brought you to a clearing with a view of the tokyo skyline. his engine faded to the quiet hum instead of the loud roar that ripped through the silence before shutting off.

he helped you take off his helmet. his hand fixed your hair disrupted by the pressure. he was the first to get off and walk around.

“so, you always take a girl on a ride after a win?” you prompted.

“don’t know, you’re the first.”

you placed a hand on your chest. he towered over you as he stared at the city. “lucky me then,” you smiled. “so what’s your plan now, fushiguro?”

his thumbs wiped at his lips as he looked at you. a dangerous glint hit his eyes.

megumi wasn’t worried about his bike at the moment. he couldn’t focus on anything else except the way your ass jiggled with every slap of his skin to yours. he yanked your tight miniskirt to where it was hidden underneath his jacket.

his jacket with his name.

his palm spread against your cheek, fitting perfectly. his other hand cupped your chin and pulled your head back. your nails scratched against the leather.

“f-fushiguro!”

“megumi. m-my name’s megumi- oh fuck,” he hissed. he pulled your back against his solid chest. your heart rate quickened. your head fell against his shoulder as you looked into his almost feral eyes. “not what you expected, huh? never seen you before. your first time here, dressed so fucking slutty. couldn’t take my eyes off you.”

you moaned in response. he pressed his lips against your neck. your mind drifted to how your friends would respond to the love bites he was obviously leaving. you didn’t care as you reached around and tangled your hand in his hair.

“megumi, i- mhm~”

you sounded so pretty for him. you looked just as gorgeous too. he loved hearing his name fall from your lips as his thumb smeared your lipstick and tears your mascara. he wanted to make you sob for him like this all the time.

“you’re real fucking pretty, love fucking you dumb.” you cried out his name again. he licked the marks he left on your skin. “ha, can’t even respond. that’s fine, just keep squeezing me.”

and you listened well. your cunt clenched around him. “please megumi! i can’t!

he could see your nails scraping the seat, leaving white marks. he loved it. he loved seeing the way he made you and he wanted to keep them there forever.

“your slutty hole gonna cum for me?” he laughed. his hand fondled your tits quickly before going back down to play with your clit. you nodded as much as you could as he pinned you against him by the neck.

you were so close now. you felt megumi’s cock and hands pulling the cord to your release. he continued driving against your sensitive walls. you felt every vein on him deep inside your core.

your nails started to dig in scalp now. “oh megumi! t-thank you! ‘m gonna cum!” megumi pressed a hard and sloppy kiss against your lips. your eyes rolled into the back of your head. your hole tightened around him. you squealed as he pulled away.

he grunted against your skin. you felt so unbelievably tight around him. your hand fell limp and out of his hair. you were close to giving out so he supported your weight — treating you like his own fleshlight.

he pushed against your ass to pull out. he bent you over completely on his bike. megumi groaned at the cold air hitting him. quickly, he worked his own cock until thick strings of cum spurted out onto your skin.

“i’ll take you home,” he said, fixing your skirt. “can i get your number before we go?”

you looked back up at him. “yeah.” he already had his phone out of pocket to give to you.

you were a little embarrassed from how loud megumi’s bike was. it was early in the morning when you got home. he hopped off and helped you. he walked you to your door without turning off the engine.

you almost forgot about his jacket. you started to slide one arm off but he stopped you. “can i see you again?”

you nodded, “yeah.”

he slid the sleeve back over you. you managed to put in the code to open the door with your shaky hands. “keep it. goodnight y/n.”

nobara wasn’t as calm as maki when the biker dropped you off back at your apartment. especially not when you walked in with your makeup so displaced. she practically jumped you.

her heart stopped beating when she noticed the jacket. “oh my god that’s his jacket! maki! look! he gave her the jacket!”

— © cythena 2023. do not share on tiktok, plagiarize, repost on other platforms, copy, or translate.

[nataliasquote]

Sun-kissed by an angel | n romanoff

summary: the perfect lazy morning in the Romanoff summer beach house

wc: 1.5k

notes: I know I’ve been MIA for a while, but I’m back with a short but soft and fluffy oneshot. I wish this was my life tbh, I feel like a beach holiday and a cozy morning with a hot girl would make my life so much better

-⧗-

The gentle tickle of the ocean breeze brushed across the sleeping woman’s exposed skin, stirring her from her heavy slumber with the promise of sun. It dappled through the open curtains of the balcony doors, but the light wasn’t harsh like it usually was. Many days had started just like this, crumpled sheets and exposed limbs being warmed by the dazzling sun. Y/n blinked to adjust to the brightness, stretching her limbs out across the expanse of soft white blankets, frowning as her palms landed upon nothing but fabric. The bed was larger, far bigger than any she’d slept in before, but it felt even bigger without her person by her side.

Waking up with the sea view directly in front of her was a dream but even the gentle rolling waves didn’t quite tug the smile back to her lips as she swung her legs out of bed and let her feet land upon the sanded hardwood floor. Without pulling on anything to cover her blue pyjama shorts set, she wandered down the hallway of the country style house, passing the photo covered walls and airy windows, until she reached the kitchen.

The radio on the windowsill crackled out nostalgic tunes and Y/n paused in the doorway, taking in the sight before her. The redheaded woman she adored with her whole heart was swaying softly to the music, the oversized white button down that adorned her body hanging loosely from her shoulders and stopping mid thigh. The large window above the sink was wide open, letting in a deliciousness to drift from the beach below and mix with the combination of freshly brewed coffee and the new bouquet sitting in prize position on the grand windowsill.

Natasha’s back was turned as she hummed to herself, allowing her wife a moment of admiration before she crossed the tiled floor and slipped her arms around the redhead’s waist. Natasha wasn’t startled, she was an ex spy after all, but her body immediately relaxed into the touch of her wife. They stayed embraced for a few moments, Natasha’s head tilting backwards to rest on Y/n’s shoulder behind her. She smiled lazily and brought her own hands up to grasp onto her lover’s, holding her tightly.

“Did you sleep well?” She muttered softly, goosebumps littering her skin as Y/n’s hands grazed her stomach.

Y/n hummed, turning her wife around so they were finally face to face. “I would have slept better if you didn’t leave before I woke up.” Her mouth pouted slightly but Natasha quickly kissed her lips, her remedy for unhappiness.

“I’m sorry, baby,” she apologised, “I just wanted to surprise you with breakfast.”

Y/n’s eyebrows furrowed at the mention of food. Her wife was a lot of things, but a cook she was not. She followed Natasha’s gaze to a pan on the stove where a sorry looking egg was cooking - or at least trying to.

“Tasha, honey… you haven’t turned the stove on.”

Natasha went to protest but Y/n pressed the button and turned the dial, the pair of them watching as the oil in the pan began to sizzle. Y/n smiled, trying to hide her laughter but Natasha caught her and huffed, sliding away from the stove and dragging Y/n over to the other counter, trapping her body in between the granite countertop and her strong body.

“How long have you been trying to cook that egg?” Y/n asked with fake seriousness, one which Natasha saw straight through. She rolled her eyes and pressed her hips forward, grabbing her wife’s face in her scarred palms.

“You’re lucky that I love you and will put up with this teasing after everything I do for you,” she grumbled, even though she wasn’t at all offended. Her wife was the light of her life and a far better cook, despite Natasha’s best efforts. She gazed into her love’s eyes, watching them sparkle in the sunlight and she couldn’t hold herself back anymore. Natasha pressed their lips together in a loving but firm kiss, almost like she was trying to kiss the smirk off her wife’s face. Her hands cupped Y/n’s cheeks with such tenderness that the other woman melted slightly, her body falling forwards into the comfort of her wife.

“You’re too good at that, my love, but that egg will burn if we continue like this,” Y/n started, trying to push Natasha away, much to the redhead’s disdain. The promise of breakfast was far in the back of her mind and she ignored Y/n’s help of protest when she grabbed the backs of her thighs and lifted her up onto the counter, spreading her thighs to stand between them with a smirk.

“You were saying?”

Y/n shook her head, a playful smile dancing across her lips. Her wife really was unbelievable. “At least turn the stove off, Nat. We just had this kitchen redone.”

“It’s barely warmed up.”

“And I know you. You’ll forget all about it and then complain when it’s black.” Natasha opened her mouth. “Don’t protest, you know I’m right.”

The redhead rolled her eyes but stepped away for two seconds, keeping her eyes locked on her wife on the counter as she fiddled around for the knob, turning it with a click. She raised an eyebrow, almost asking ‘happy?’ and Y/n nodded whilst beckoning her back over.

“That wasn’t hard now, was it?”

Natasha stayed quiet. Her fingertips slowly danced up Y/n’s bare thighs, tracing invisible patterns on her freshly tanned skin until they reached the hem of her shorts. Natasha laid her palms flat, suddenly looking up at her wife again through her lashes, giving her a look that melted the world away.

“Stop…” yet she wasn’t at all convincing. Y/n’s own hands absentmindedly drifted to the open collar of Natasha’s shirt, her collarbones just showing under the soft linen. “I love this shirt on you, my god.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhm,” Y/n hummed softly. She followed her fingers with her eyes, connecting the freckles on her wife’s pale skin across her chest. Regardless of her hours spent in the sun, Natasha was never tanned, but it only made her look more ethereal in Y/n’s eyes. Like an angel with a glowing halo of hair about her head.

They didn’t need to talk, not in moments like this. Their eyes spoke a thousand words, and the soft call of seabirds in the distance reminded them both of the life they now lived, the craziness of the Avengers a thing of the past. A slow life was their new normal, and Natasha had moulded into her new role surprisingly well.

“Why don’t we go to the farmer’s market today?” Natasha suggested, her hands still resting on her wife’s thighs, her favourite place to be.

Y/n narrowed her eyes, seeing through that innocent facade. “You want me to make my salad don’t you?”

Natasha grinned, moving her hands up to Y/n’s waist, pulling her closer until her legs wrapped around Nat’s waist and they were as close as they could be. Natasha was an utter simp for her wife, and she wasn’t ashamed of that. Not at all. She would get it tattooed on her forehead if she could.

“I do, but I also want to see you in a pretty summer dress in our town today.” Another weakness, Natasha was feeling extra soft today, and Y/n would never complain. Natasha’s possessiveness came out extra strong when Y/n wore one of her favourite dresses. They always attracted extra attention and there was nothing more that the redhead loved more than to slide an arm around her waist or stop her in the street and kiss her fiercely. Just to shut down the wandering eyes of the other men and women in their small coastal town.

“What my wife wants, she gets,” Y/n leaned down and kissed Natasha’s forehead before signalling to get down. “What about breakfast?”

They both peered over at the half cooked mess of an egg on the stove before bursting into laughter. Straight into the trash it went, that was clear.

“I’m going to take my gorgeous wife out for breakfast,” the redhead announced, twirling Y/n under her arm in time to the music still playing from the radio. “With the promise of properly cooked eggs and a beautiful view.”

“I already have a beautiful view.” Cheesy.

“Get out of here,” Natasha joked, administering a slap to her wife’s ass as she ran out of the kitchen and down the hallway, a redhead hot on her heels.

But their urgency to leave was short lived as Natasha tackled Y/n onto the bed, peppering her face with kisses as they rolled around on the crumpled sheets, acting more like teenagers than thirty year old women. But they were allowed to, Natasha had been robbed of a childhood after all.

Breakfast could wait, this morning was much more important.

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

virgin sacrifice

a/n: you guys? hail satan.

summary: you didn’t think in your wildest dreams that Captain and Tennille’s best hits would be blasting over the camp’s speakers while you were running for your life from two nut job serial killers, ones who had already slain what looked like most of the other campers.

warnings: dark!steve harrington x reader x dark!eddie munson, dark content, noncon/dubcon, smut, summer camp au (they are all camp counsellors), slasher au, virgin!reader, very innocent!reader, final girl!reader, established relationship, violence, murder, weapons, blood, devil worship, predator/prey, bondage, knife kink, dirty talk, pussy inspection, oral, fingering, anal

word count: 1389

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It was the summer of 1986, right before you were supposed to go off to college and start your real life. It was also the summer when you worked as a counsellor at Camp Nebula, the very summer you fell in love for the first time. The summer when the most popular guy for some reason took notice of you and started calling you his girl. 

Now, he was a tad bit more experienced than you and wasn’t shy to show you in ways that you always snuffed out before they could grow into anything uncouth. That’s not how you’d been raised, to lose your virginity in a summer camp’s tool shed, however gobsmacked he made you feel, you just couldn’t take that step. 

No one had ever looked at you the way that he did, truly listened to you when you spoke, and even stood up for you, like whenever the camp’s freak would say things to you vulgar enough to render you speechless, your knight in shining armour would step in and save the day. 

It was the perfect summer. 

Was. 

Completely perfect right up till the murders began to happen. 

You didn’t think in your wildest dreams that Captain and Tennille’s best hits would be blasting over the camp’s speakers while you were running for your life from two nut job serial killers, ones who had already slain what looked like most of the other campers.

Lungs burning, you sprinted through the dark camp, a flicking lamppost above illuminating the path you raced down, the ground littered with sharp pine needles. 

When you made your way to the dining hall, the rotary phone inside, your plan of salvation, turned out to be just as dead as the summer friendships you’d thought would last a lifetime. 

“There’s nowhere left for you to run, little lamb!” the petrifying roar from just outside the hall’s walls caused you to jump and scurry into the kitchen, though when you did, your gaze should have been directed in front of you and not over your shoulder as you swiftly crashed into a figure. 

A blank mask stared down at you, one of the ones that the kids used for crafts, usually decorating them with an explosion of paint and beads. 

Chuckling softly at the way you stumbled back, he playfully uttered, “boo!” raising his hands up to scare you, retroactively flashing you the blade fast in his grip. Half-obscured eyes stilled glued to you, the killer shouted over his shoulder, “found her!” and held the weapon outstretched to keep you where you were. 

“Oh, good,” another masked murderer appeared as the back door was swung open, “well then let’s get this show on the road!”

“Please don’t kill me!” you cried as the one keeping you cornered grabbed you. 

“Kill you?” one of them laughed, “oh honey, we’re gonna do so much more than just kill you,” before he got out a bundle of rope and gestured to his partner, “get her up on the table.” 

Once they’d forced you down upon the cold steel surface and tied you up, they proceeded to reveal something to you that nearly caused your thumping heart to stop. 

“…Steve?” you scarcely breathed as one of them plucked off his mask and tossed it onto a counter. 

“Surprise,” your summer sweetheart flashed you a smile. 

“But–… I’ve been looking for you everywhere all night, you–… you did this?”

“Well, don’t give him all the credit,” the other one peeled off his mask as well. 

“Eddie?” you shuttered, “b-but you two hate each other.”

“That’s what we had to make you think so that no one would suspect a thing,” the long-haired rebel wiped some of the bloodstains on his blade clean on the hip of his jeans, “no one would ruin our plan.” 

“Y-your plan?”

“Might as well tell her,” Eddie nudged his partner who shifted his grip on the axe heavy in his grasp, “since she has such a big part to play in it.”

“Oh, what the hell, why not,” Steve grinned and pulled over a rickety stool, “you see, there are things, wishes, that both me and Eddie have,” the man you thought you’d loved began to explain, “ambitions that, try as we might, we can’t achieve on our own. So, Eddie here found this old book, this tome, that explained a ritual that could grant us our deepest desires...” he uttered dreamily, “it was really quite simple when it came down to it… first 40 lives and then you.”

“…me?” your voice trembled, “why me? I’m not anyone special, I'm just–”

“Oh no, Y/n, you sweet, sweet dumb girl,” Steve chuckled darkly, “you are the final piece to the puzzle,” he stared directly into your soul, “our perfect little virgin sacrifice.” 

Taking a step closer to your strapped-down form, Eddie’s stare danced down your frame, scrapes and dirt still tainting the uniform you’d freshly washed just this morning. 

“But you know, the funny thing is, our lord and saviour down in hell has a funny and pretty ancient definition of what a virgin is,” he teasingly ran the flat side of his blade up the length of your leg, smiling as you squirmed, “sure, some things are off limits, but not a lot…,” the tip of his knife dipped under your shorts and sliced them in two. With the configuration that they had bound you in, everything was already embarrassingly on show, though even more so now that all of your clothes were cut off your frame. Completely mesmerised as the last shred left your form, Eddie uttered softly, “oh, this is gonna be so much fun.”

“What are you doing?” you struggled against the robes as Steve rose from his seat. 

“It’s a real shame, baby,” his broad hands ran up your inner thigh, “I really did wanna pop your cherry myself, fuck I would have loved that, but I don’t deserve it as much as he does,” his thumbs, creeping up to either side of your core, extended out to wickedly spread you apart, “Satan may get to have your pussy,” you shuttered at the mortifyingly soppy sound that emanated as he briefly ran a finger though your folds, “but this little hole isn’t off limits,” his digit then swept down to draw a feathery circle over your rosebud. 

“Nor this one,” Eddie’s hand found your cheeks in a pinch and forced your lips to pucker, “but we might have to do a bit of convincing in order to be able to play up here,” your body stiffened up as the cold edge of his blade then pressed against your throat, “no teeth, or else we won’t make you feel good, won’t give you a little treat before you help us contact the man downstairs.” 

“How in the fuck do you think I’ll like any of this?” you spat back at him. 

“Uh!” they both laughed and shared a glance before Eddie noted, “I think that might have been the first time I’ve ever heard little miss goody two shoes swear! That’s so cute!”  

“Fuck you,” you wept, “you psycho–, oh!” a moan then ripped through your body and surprised you to the very core.

Glancing down between your legs, you saw that Steve was kissing you down there, his lips latched on to the little pearl that always seemed to throb in his presence. 

“What was that about you not enjoying this?” his sloppy peck detached in an obscene pop, “because you sure are soaked for someone who doesn’t think it feels good to be played with… we’re gonna make you feel good, so good, your virgin ass couldn’t even fucking dream about it…” the sensation of Eddie’s palm snaked down to squeeze your tit, while Steve brought his broad thumb up to bully your glistening clit, grinning at how your untouched hole clenched around nothing for him, “just look at how fucking messy you are for us… fucking leaking all over the place…” a groan then escaped him as one of his digits dipped down to slowly sink into your tight ass, simply testing the waters before the pair of them utterly obliterated you, “fuck… you almost make me wanna keep you forever and just find a different virgin to take your place…”

© 2024 thyme-in-a-bubble 

[zephyrchama]

🌞

It was morning at Serenity Manor, the temporary human world home of the Seven Rulers of Hell. Despite having your own abode close by, it was nice to stay in the manor with them for a while. The building was far fancier and well-equipped than anything you could afford on your own, and it was reassuring to have your loved ones so close before the summer ended and they went back to the Devildom.

Birdsong outside the window woke you up unusually early. The sun was rising over the horizon, heralding the start of a beautiful new day. Despite the early hour, you didn’t feel tired at all. Rather, you felt content and at peace, ready to get up and see what the day had in store for you.

The house was silent as you plodded towards the kitchen in your pajamas. All of the hallway's identical doors were shut but you had already familiarized yourself with the manor’s layout, now only getting lost occasionally instead of constantly. You came upon the living room, where massive glass window panes gave you a nice view of the backyard and bathed the walls in the soft orange light of the rising sun.

You paused to admire it. Your admiration did not last long. It was interrupted by a strained “gyaaaaah!”

“Levi?” You peered over the couch expecting to see purple locks, only to be greeted by a shirtless Mammon staring vacantly up at the ceiling. “Oh. Morning, Mammon.”

His half-closed eyes flitted towards you as he lightly groaned. Beyond the couch, Leviathan and Belphegor were sprawled out on the floor. The third-born had an arm over his eyes and sounded like he was dying. The youngest was still fast asleep.

You walked around the couches and tables to get a better look at the scene. Empty chip bags, demonus bottles, and crumbs littered the floor. Cushions had been tossed to the ground, the tables slightly askew. There were three handheld game consoles flashing low battery warnings. An impromptu game night must have gone on for too long, causing its participants to fall asleep where they sat.

“Ahh, what is that?” Leviathan shuddered.

Literally nothing was happening. You observed in silence for a few seconds while Leviathan raised a shaky finger and pointed at nothing in particular. “Make it stooop. It burns.”

"You mean the sun?” you asked.

Still covering his eyes, Leviathan nodded.

”I can’t stop the sun.”

He let out a soft, garbled “aaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhh” and curled up into a ball, brushing his long bangs over his face.

Mammon moved his hand back and forth in the air next to the couch, as if beckoning you over. As you moved closer, he grabbed your wrist. The grip was loose, and slowly slid down your hand. He shut his eyes without saying anything, and you realized your shadow protected his face from the horrible light, providing slight relief from the sun’s rays.

You squatted down next to the couch, curious what would happen. Mammon’s grip tightened and he let out a tortured whine as the light hit his face again.

“Will you two shut up?” Belphegor groaned, stirred awake at last by the loud complaints.

“Morning, Belphie.”

“Oh, morning…” When speaking to you, his voice was much softer. Almost like speaking a lullaby. He smiled and turned his head to the side, pointing his shoulders away from the windows. ”Good night…”

"It's morning, though..."

At least one of them didn’t seem bothered by the sun. If he was, he hid his feelings and didn’t vocalize it. You sat and leaned your back against the sofa, resting your elbow on your thigh, and slowly swung your forearm in circles while a half-asleep Mammon held on and moaned about the sunlight.

Leviathan crawled like a zombie, grunting with his nose to the ground, over to your knee. He was too tired to even support his own weight. He grabbed your pajama bottoms and dug his face into your leg.

“Isn’t the human world gorgeous?” you asked, basking in the sunny rays. You felt so awake and refreshed. This was your element.

“No,” responded three fatigued demons with hardly enough energy to spit the word out.