#Strong women got me weak at the knees | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

prettyboykatsuki · 8 months

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BEGGING you to speak on your dark content mai thoughts.....on my hands and knees fang

the only one for me | z. mai

✮ cw ; DARK CONTENT, afab + fem!reader, manipulation / BULLYING, dubcon (so much of it), it gets weird and sexual (of course.), alternate universe / not canon complaint, mai is INCREDIBLY possessive over reader sdkjs, humiliation, a lot of nobara conflict, mai calls nobara a bitch once, use of honorifics (senpai + san), 18+

✮ wc ; 2.3k (??)

✮ a/n ; i don't know....dont ask me fdjkkjsd. this is very like. i say this a lot but this is so much more bullying heavy than my other stuff and mai is a lot more selfish than my other characters lol.

the smut isn't super graphic! this is mostly psychological tomfoolery. reader is also peak pathetic here SDKJSJK

It's not an accident.

And it didn't happen overnight, though Mai is certainly wants to make you feel like that. It happened, or it started mostly because Mai notices the way interact with Nobara. And there's always competition there - the same current of tension that makes the two of them hate each other while never leaving the other alone.

It's not accident, the first time Mai decides to bother you. It's not an accident when she ruins your social life, not an accident when she clings to your side and makes you feel nauseous with how she refuses to leave you alone.

The world of Jujutsu Sorcery is small and archaic. Even with the death of the Zenin clan - and the slow, steady departure of clan politics, not much has changed. There are plenty of women in sorcery, and they're all interconnected like a web. A solidarity there that exists because it has too.

It's hard to survive without such a thing, and it's hard to work yourself into a network with such deep roots.

You stick out like a sore thumb among them.

A late bloomer, you began as a sorcerer after high school and joined Jujutsu Higher at the technical college level at 20. You're bright, she hears from the grapevine. You start working in the field only attending one mission, and Gojo Satoru declares you as a prodigy before the day is over.

She sees you, for the first time when she's forced to attend an even at the Tokyo school for all sorcerers. You're with Nobara. Unlike what she hears about, you don't have much of a presence.

The first time Mai catches you and Nobara alone - she finds herself surprised. Nobara's bullying is cruel but crude. Insulting but not particularly clever. The first time Mai catches the two of you alone, it's in alley with you on your knees - your face under Nobara's skirt as she demeans you with a heel between your legs.

Mai is mostly surprised. She didn't think Nobara had it in her, too much of a goody two-shoes.

But more than that, more than anything - she's interested in the look on your face when you pull away. You're quite the cry-baby, and you don't push Nobara even when Mai knows you're stronger than her by a lot. One of the greatest sorcerers to pop up in the last few years, and there you'd been.

Crying, weeping, pleading - in ruins about so many things.

How cute.

It's hard for things to catch Mai's interest. She thinks it's the little sister in her. She wants plenty but not enough to keep them. She finds people cute but never enough to date them.

But there was something about you - something about how timid and weak you acted when she knew you were strong, that made Mai curious. At first, it was just to piss Nobara off. Approaching you was a silly game she played her hand in to pass the time.

She liked seeing the crease in Nobara's features when Mai got your attention. She liked the way you looked uncomfortable when she was friendly, knowing her terrible intentions but still being polite. She liked that you used formal speech with all the higher-ups, and that you got along well with the boys of your age group but not so much the girls.

Mai likes, especially, that you are so socially outcast. You never seem to know how to be comfortable in conversations with all the girls. You try too hard, talk too rough but you can't raise your voice.

And her head is always replaying that same image of you on your knees, face soaked with cum and tears and so desperately hanging on. It plagues her a little, to watch you.

It's not an accident, the first time Mai asks to partner with you on a mission. The higher-ups owe her a lot and something this simple takes no effort on her part at all.

It's not an accident you take on a dangerous mission, it's not an accident when you get cornered, and it's certainly not an accident as Mai watches you take down a horde of curses all by yourself. You're a prodigy when you sweat. You're strong.

But you fold under the slightest pressure.

It's easy enough to isolate you.

You're too clever to fall for manipulation, and Mai doesn't enjoy lying to her peers. Cutting the threads that tie you to other things, things that aren't her - is enough to make it happen. She calls the shots to get you relocated, and slowly takes your social life apart when you enter. She tells Momo that you don't seem to like girls like her, tells Miwa something about the fact that you're cruel from what she's seen. They believe because they know Mai and don't know you.

The other women hear something along those same lines. It's all too easy.

She watches from a far after that. The seeds are spread, and you fumble trying to make friends. Mai waits until you're lonely. No one signs up with you for missions, no one seems to say hello in the halls.

Mai waits patiently. She catches you on a good day, when you're alone.

("I thought Nobara didn't like cigarettes," Mai leans next to you on the wall, supressing a smile at the way you startle. You nearly drop what you're smoking but it never ends up falling to the floor "She kept whining about it like a kid when her ex used to smoke."

"Mai-san," Your voice is hoarse, like you've been crying. She checks to see if your eyes are red, but it's too hard to tell "What are you doing up here?"

"I can't be friends with you? How harsh, senpai."

You look uncomfortable the familiarity. She knew you would. She's been watching you all this time.

"You shouldn't be picky," Mai tsks, sitting herself too close to you. She takes your cigarette and puts her lips on the end, lipgloss sticking to the paper. Your eyes grow wide, expression a little shocked. Is it the indirect kiss? How innocent of you "It's not like there's anyone else who wants to be around you, is there?"

You don't protest her words. Her timid upper classmen. If you had more of a spine, you would surely say that doesn't mean you want her around either.

You don't though. You just sigh, and pull the cigarette from her lips and put it out.

"Don't pick up bad habits."

Mai wants to tell you it's already much too late.)

Mai learns you have several interesting things about you. You're a crybaby, but you're strong. You're easy to bully, but you like to be helpful.

You're too friendly. You're always especially nice to girls and it seems you have no issue winning them over even on accident. Mai doesn't like that about you. It bothers her when you stray too far from her sight. When you have to return to Tokyo for work and she can only imagine what nonsense Nobara is putting through your thick skull.

She learns the easiest way to get you to listen is by using her feelings. No matter how much Mai troubles you or inconveniences you, you can never leave her to the snakes. No matter how much Mai pushes you against your boundaries, you'll never push her away.

You're too moral and too upright. Too good and too naive. And there is something about those things inside of you that make it hard for Mai to leave you alone.

She can't help but unload all of the cruelty that wells up inside her when she looks at the face you make when you're defeated. That pleading look you get when Mai pushes just a little too far - to helpless to your own sense of responsibility to ever scold her properly.

You make such a perfect target, it makes so hard for Mai to stay away. She always wants you next to her. Wants to tangle you inside of a web so intricate you never stop feeling like you'll lose balance. She wants to leave you in that sort of ruin, where the feeling of suspense drives you into madness and you can't do anything but lean.

It's a bad habit she's picked up. Putting you in uncomfortable, frustrating situations. Coercing you into touching her, into letting her feel you up. Her reasons are always the same.

If it's not you, then maybe I'll go and do it to someone else. Wouldn't that be bad, senpai?

"Mai-san," Your voice is cute when it's like this. It's in the middle of a dangerous situation and there's a curse lurking near by - but part of the fun is the danger. Mai sits between your legs with a grip, a hand on your cheek. "We shouldn't do this here. Th-theres curses. Y-you'll get hurt."

She laughs - she can hear the callous in it. Truthfully she's pissed. Whatever you get up too when Nobara is around you is more than enough to sour her mood. You come back to Kyoto with all of your clothes smelling of that sickly perfume - so it's only fair she makes you uncomfortable.

It's only fair that she keeps you here, trapped with her against the wall. That she suffocates and overwhelms your senses with her. Nobara is still too soft on you. But Mai owns you. She'd put a dog collar on you if it helped you understand, she worries you'll always be too thick.

"You were hanging around with that bitch weren't you," She tsks. You widen your eyes than look away, have the nerve to get flushed. The anger she feels is so visceral it nearly burns her alive "You look real happy about it too,"

"You shouldn't talk about Nobara-san like that," You gasp when Mai pushes her knee between your legs. Your head falls forward, and your heart is pumping. "She's a nice girl."

Haah.

She wraps her hand around your hair, tugging enough that you're forced to look up at her.

"You're saying that even after she bullied you like some kind of psycho. Do you have a fetish for it or something?"

You open your eyes and blink up at Mai.

"She's not like that," You gasp as Mai digs her knee further into your pelvis "I-it's harmless. She doesn't mean anything by it."

Her anger hits a high.

"So what, you wanna go play housewife with her? Do you like that annoying—you'll take anything won't you. So pathetic all by yourself that any attention will do."

"Mai,"

"It can't be anyone else but you. And I have to vent my anger somewhere, so get it through your thick fucking skull, alright? Nothing else will work."

You look at her like you've realized something, but you don't raise your voice to speak. Mai doesn't bother herself with what you could be thinking. It doesn't matter to her what it is anyway.

She busies herself instead with doing what she knows will soothe her mood. Unzipping the top of your jeans and undoing the button as a curse creaks behind you. You widen your eyes. Mai puts a hand over your mouth, electricity buzzing through each of her nerves.

"Quiet, senpai," She whispers to you softly as she pushes her hand into your jeans, fingers running over your slit. You're so predictably, soaking wet from just a little bullying. You're so easy to target it's no wonder. She pulls back just slightly to peer at the expression you have on your face. "It'll hear you."

Once those words hit you, you make that face that Mai adores so much. Tears well up and spill down your face in waves, warm breath tickling the palm of her hand as her fingers tease your clit. It doesn't take anything to make you cum, you're easy in all the ways it matters. Mai can always use that so she doesn't mind.

She knows all the ways to break you down slowly, knows how slow to go until your sniffles turn to soft sobs. Her beloved upperclassmen, pathetic and too forgiving. If you happen to leave her sight, she's sure something worse will happen to you.

Another girl will take advantage of you helplessly and that wouldn't be fair. She's the only one allowed to do it. She's the only one who will ever understand you so fully. Nobara can't do it like she can.

Only Mai is allowed to break you. She knows all the best ways to put you back together.

"You're so wet. Such a bad girl. How could you being doing this in the middle of a fight. Tsk, tsk," Mai reprimands you with delight, watching the way your eyes roll back as she toys with you. Your clit throbs under her touch - hot and sticky and desperate. "You better hurry up and cum so you can go fight. How else will you protect me, huh?"

"Mai-san," You gasp as she moves her hand from your mouth, body leaned against the wall - sweat dripping down your forehead "Mai-san, please."

"Say it," Mai taunts, grabbing your chin "That I'm the only one for you. Repeat it so you understand."

You give her a look but do as she says. So obedient she wants to praise you.

"You're the only one for me, Mai-san,"

You look at her when you say it. Even though she knows you don't mean it, she feels her heart thump and swallows the feeling before grinning.

"My dear senpai,"She hums, leaning into to tug your ear lobe between her teeth "Cum, okay? Cum as much as you want."

Mai tucks your head against her chest as you cum, pulsing around her fingers.

Yes, it was never an accident to begin with. And it's Mai's responsibility to keep wrapped up with her right where you're supposed to be.

#return to sender #mai zenin x reader #mai x reader #bullying cw #writing tag #dark content cw #yandere cw #dubcon cw #jjk x reader #jjk smut

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siempre-bucky · 2 years

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Park Outings Headcanons

Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Fem!Reader

summary: What it's like when Jake takes his son to the park

A/n: Jake as a doting father? fuckkkk

Jake never saw himself as the ‘take your kid to the park’ kind of guy when he was single or even when it was just you and him. Go with his married friends and their kids for comradery? Sure. Accompany his niece and nephew? Fine. It was all fuzzy in his head when he thought about himself, but then Luke came along and that picture became clear as day.

Luke’s favorite place was the park, the five-year-old loved to run and play for hours in the small playground

He would sit at the top of the slide and watch the ocean in the far distance and beg Jake to watch him slide down to the warm sand below

He’s a well prepared dad. Jakes uses one of his old backpacks and fills it with everything. 2 first aid kits, a change of clothes, and an endless supply of snacks and juice boxes

“Daddy, I’m hungry,” Luke whined as he dramatically sat on the park bench, his little limbs splayed in all directions

Jake opened his bag and tossed a small bag of goldfish and a juice box in his lap, kissing the top of his head as he tore into it

Cuts and scraped knees? Hangman’s all over it

He’ll gently soothe his son as he cries from the burn of the antiseptic

“It burns,” he cried, his nails digging crescents into the skin around his scraped knee

“I know buddy, I know,” Jake told him as calmly as he could, “you are bein’ so strong.”

Jake wiped his tears and marveled at how quickly his son would be running back towards the monkey bars, showing off his airplane band-aid to his friends

You were also a very hot topic at the playground

Sometimes Jake would wear one of his Navy t-shirts and would have all the single moms and nannies flocking to the muscular blond

They’re weak in the knees when he tells them he’s an aviator

Then he smirks and delivers the final blow “My wife and I were top of our class at Top Gun. They call her Widow… she’s absolutely lethal.”

It was fun for him to see them scatter

Luke loved when he heard the roar of the planes from the base, “Daddy, Daddy!” he gasped, running as fast as he could, his eyes towards the clear blue sky

Jake would lift him up on his shoulders and watch him look for the planes

Luke wiggled as he saw the silhouettes of the planes pass over

He never failed to wave at them

“Do you think that’s mommy?” he asked

“I think it might, bud!”

After long days at the park, Luke always smiled when he saw your car in the driveway

He’d race from Jake’s truck and straight into your arms

“Oh my little love,” you hummed as you held him tight, nuzzling your nose into his neck “Did you have fun at the park?”

“I did! Did you see me wave? Did you?” he asked excitedly

You and Jake shared a loving glance as he got out of the truck

You hugged Luke a little tighter, kissing his cheek.“Of course, I did, baby.”

"How was the park?" you asked him after the lights went out, cuddled against him in your bed

Jake placed kisses along your shoulder blades and held you tightly

"I got to play doctor and turn down five women in one afternoon."

He could feel the satisfied grin on your face

#jake seresin #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin x you #jake seresin x fem!reader #dad!jake seresin #dad!jake seresin x reader #top gun #top gun maverick #glen powell #hangman x reader

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valiantroeagleangel · 2 months

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This might be out of the blue but do you have any headcanons of bad omens with tall women? Like how you would feel or how they would act towards you. All is see is about short women 😭 so I had to ask. It's ok if you don't 💕 love you 💕💕

As a tall woman, I loved that ask so I'll use myself for reference. I think I'm like 5'9 ? or maybe 5'10 I'm not so sure, I don't understand a thing about the American metric system.

Sorry it took me time to write that down love, hope you'll love it nonetheless <3

Noah

One thing I love about Noah is that even with my tall ass platforms I'll still be shorter than him and that is great. If you're tall and you want to feel PETITE for once you know, Noah's your guy. It's great to be tall and stuff but sometimes you just wish to feel small and weak in someone's arms and not feel like you're a strong opponent he could fight. And with Noah, I'm pretty sure you would feel small in his arms and I love that. And the debate of him liking tall or short women doesn't even exist since you're probably all shorter than him.

But Noah loves that you're tall. Have you guys seen that picture of him and the look on his face when a fan came to the meet and greet stuff and he was really taller than Noah? He looked like a kid in a candy store, so in my head, Noah loves tall girls (I'm not saying that because I am, what do you mean?). He likes the fact that you're at his size and not small like everything around him. Here me out, you could have a customized kitchen at your height and not struggle with everything being too low and that would be so great. Or like a table with high feet so you won't hit your knees under it every time you try to cross your legs. Just for weird things like that he would feel special with you and not in an excluded way.

But in reality I don't think he cares that much about your height anyway, you'll look good next to him whether you're short or tall. Just wish we saw more headcanons and fics of Noah with tall women and not just short people for size kink hm.

Jolly

MY FAVORITE PART. Jolly is a little bit shorter than Noah but he still is pretty tall. That being said I know that with heels I might be his height or like almost his size. So he is not your absolute tall guy, you won't necessarily always be petite to him. BUT, hear me out, there is something really manly about Jolly that makes me feel small anyway. It goes with his charisma and presence I think but GOD. I FEEL SO SMALL AND WEAK COMPARED TO HIM. Do you see what I'm talking about?

Jolly? God, it is just his attitude but it's working (and the fact that he still is pretty tall). Noah is tall and buff but he isn't manly the way that Jolly is and that makes a difference. Maybe I feel even smaller with Jolly than Noah because of that and I love that. Jolly is VIRILE and I'm not talking about the grrr alpha man awou awou *wolves* *wolves* type of virile. There is nothing toxic here, he just sweats testosterone and I'm a weak little damsel in distress for it.

Kidding, but you got it.

Jolly is masculine enough to make you feel like you can rely on him for real, so you feel little and feminine. Yeah dating Jolly as a tall woman is for once not feeling like you're abnormally tall in a room of people of average height.

That aside, I think that he doesn't care much about your height anyway. That dude is Swedish, average Swedish women are tall. So he won't be that "shocked" about your height, even maybe that the day you both met he was like "damn finally someone with a normal height (Swedish height reference)".

Jolly is a dom in everything in his life so in the end, he will manage it all. He doesn't think that you being tall is taking his masculinity away. He just doesn't fucking care and will still treat you like the princess you are.

Nicholas

Oh Nicholas my beloved- I have no fucking idea of how tall he actually is but he isn't that short. Probably like 180/183 cm? I would say. Jolly is 185 cm and Nicholas is shorter but not by a lot. Which I think is something between 1 and 2 inches.

Yeah, we are doing maths here now.

But it's just for reference, since Nicholas is that tall I'm taller than him with my shoes on. So we're not on the petite side this time. But I think that dating Nicholas while being tall is something special. I think he worships you in any kind of way he can.

He likes the fact that you're tall, he likes how long your legs actually are, god he could die for those legs you know. It's great, you're just so great for him and in the end, Nicholas is still pretty tall, at least taller than average height in my country sooo. He still has a presence next to you even if he is an introvert that only wishes to disappear in social situations. If he wants I'm sure he could be very "towering" by his attitude and take things in charge.

I like the trope of the tall shy guy you know. Because he is shy, he wants to be invisible but he is so tall and has this dom side of him that you can't miss him. And that is Nicholas ladies, he is an elephant in the room that has a manly side he's trying to hide. But he is ready to wear big-ass shoes to be taller just so you can feel really small next to him, even if he hates standing out this way. Which is ironic, considering what he does for a living.

Folio

Oh, Folio. Folio's my short king. I still don't know his height but he is the shorter of the band. He might be my height, maybe shorter but not by a lot? Folio gives puppy energy on that one. He saw you one day, standing in a crowd and he was just MESMERIZED you know. You were towering over a lot of people and he fell in love immediately.

You won't feel petite next to him, but that doesn't matter because he is obsessed with you. I categorize him as the type of short guys that have a thing for tall women. You want to wear heels. Fucking yes queen do it and be taller than him he LOVES it. He is not the type of guy to ask you to wear Converse when you're with him because he doesn't want you to be too tall or tower over him or whatever. He is not insecure about his masculinity even if he is a bit cliché on that. He likes fishing and motorcycle, he has a fucking eagle tatted on the chest and I picture him as the type to have a trad wife BUT he doesn't have that toxic side inside of him.

He might be short but he won't tell you that he can't date you because "sorry you're too tall I feel like I'm dating a man and I'm not GAY >:(." (yeah this is based on a true story.) I'm traumatized by the short guys but I think that Folio could heal me. He's not the type to feel unconfident about that and he will just cheer you in a way so that you feel great and thankful for being tall. Be tall, be fucking awesome and he will be glad to be your carpet if you even want to step on him.

i just love that picture so much.

Mama’s tag list: @circle-with-me @somewhere-diamond @malice-ov-mercy @smokeynaomi @darkhallcorner @loeytuan98 @sthnog @cookiesupplier @cncohshit @lma1986 @skulliecadaver-blog @talialovesmiw @to-be-written @4rtificialfolio @arkiliastuff

#bad omens #noah sebastian #nick folio #jolly karlsson #joakim karlsson #joakim jolly karlsson #nicholas ruffilo #bad omens cult #headcanons #fic #fanfic #fanfiction #just inbox stuff #valiant's anon #valiant's requests #valiant's inbox

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mist-see · 1 year

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You don’t deserve mercy.

quaritch vs na’vi reader

After months of grieving your loved one, Neteyam, you hear gun shots. You found out spider saved his father. You make sure that he’s dead this time.

I love violence.

I have no beef for spider, he’s a good kid.

⚠️Warning ⚠️

Graphic descriptions of death, cursing, blood, the anger of losing someone, murder, and normalize women being pissed angry, violent angry. I felt like I could’ve gotten way more graphic, but for the sake of not wanting to get in trouble, I mellowed it down.

“I will bite your ear off and feed it to my ikran!” You bared your teeth, your four canines sharp and long, blood covering them as one of the ski people busted your lip before hand. Quaritch just laughs in your face.

Your anger amused him. Mostly because he knew he was going to die. It was a laughter of disappointment and rage, he was going to die, and he only got to kill one of the sullies. How pathetic of himself.

“Don’t bother having conversation with me, either kill me or get killed, we got this island surrounded with avat-ar!” Your red eyes widen, 3 sharp nails digging their way into the skin of the old man’s neck, breaking the skin.

You were strong, stronger than the na’vis they fought. You were a freak of nature, a hybrid as your mother was from the clan of ashes, father from the Omatikaya clan.

He’s read about your kind, your mother, a leader before she married outside her clan. Your anatomy was different from the rest, made you tough, but not invincible .

At this moment you were thousands of feet in the air, above the deep water it took months for you to learn. Your ikran was stable and your arrow deep inside the gut of the person who killed your Neteyam. “Do not hesitate Y/N, kill him before he kills someone else!”

Jake watches from afar, feet planted on his skimwing and emptied gun gripped in his hand.

You’re growled at this, causing another choked laugh to leave the avatars mouth. “Don’t bother.”

“Uh!-“ you gasped. The sound was brutal, the noise of the knife digging into your gut. You breath hitched, suddenly being able to taste, and smell your blood so clearly.

Tears prickling your eyes as you felt the army knife shift in your stomach. He didn’t take the arrow to his stomach lightly you suppose. Your ikran screeched, the connection between the two of you strong. She starts losing her balance, the knife you took causing her to feel it. The knife only went deeper from the movement.

How could you be so stupid? So naive to think it would be an easy job. “Weak. Just like that poor son of a bitch that came from that tree monkey down in the ocean.”

“Y/N!” Jake screamed through your ear piece as he watched your legs buckle, but never completely giving.

You would never kneel below this colonizing creature.

Quaritch heard it Crystal clear, having stole Neytiris ear piece awile ago.

“I will not die here. I will not die by the hands… of some foul demon who wants to live like us. To breathe- our air. I won’t!” You clinched your teeth, knees weak as you gripped the knife that pierced your large intestines. With a scowl, the man watched as you slowly remove the knife.

It wasn’t the size as a normal knife, no, it was bigger, meant to fit the hands of an army veteran that changed species.

Disgust on his face, he hissed, but your hand was still tight on his neck, never wavering, only getting tighter. His neck bled from the holes you made.

You stared deep into his eyes, his face close to yours, he could feel your chess grumble with a growl as the knife left you. “You can’t be that stupid kid. You’ll bleed out before you could do anything.”

“Don’t underestimate a true na’vi, demon. I am not weak. And neither was Neteyam.” Before he could even struggle to get out of your grip, you slammed him against your Ikrans back, this made her screech in complaint, her wings loosing control from the connection of your queue. she could feel everything you felt.

“If I die, Eywa will reunite me with my Neteyam. You, will go to hell, burning like the demon you are.” You hissed in his face, large blue foot pushing the arrow into his stomach more, causing him to scream.

“I will cause you to suffer.” You growled through your teeth, bloodied hands tying your rope from the end of the arrow, then forcing him to turn to his side. You grunted in pain. “Fat fuck, heavy- like the chains that will be dragging your down to your fate.” You clinched your teeth, ignoring the screams from the weak man below you as you pushed the arrow through him, until it exited his back.

“AHH- you- bITCH!” He yelled in a foreign language, assuming it was English, you scoffed. “You see us as the villain. I will kill you as such. Right in front of your traitor son who left you alive!” This caused his smaller eyes to widen, but you already tied the rope at the start of the arrow.

“Y/N- where are you- are you okay?!” Lo’ak spoke through his ear piece, out of breath. “Lo’ak! Where are you?!” Jake was quick to respond back, gun now in the ocean as he road his skimwing as fast as he could to the shore. “With mom-“

“Take her to Ronal and quickly get to y/n, she’s been stabbed!” “What?!” They yelled in your ear, but you were only focused on one thing. Revenge.

“She-ri!” You gripped onto your ikran, sending her to go above the beach, the same one you and the sullies arrived on.

You will drop him, the rope held tight in your ikrans jaws. You will rip him to shreds, the arrow more than strong enough to hold his weight, to almost rip him in half, before ending his demise.

“Just-just kill me- don’t have to- to scare the boy like that- please!” He begged, grunting from the uneven flight path She-ri flew. Poor girl was in pain, she didn’t deserve to suffer when you did.

It would be over soon.

Grabbing the old man by his braid, making his seize up in pain.

You grit your teeth, blood leaking down your stomach, soaking your loincloth as you lifted him up.

“See him demon? How confused he is, looking for his so called family, looking for you.” You whispered in his ear, red eyes glaring down at the human as he looked around the beach, not knowing where to go, what to do.

“Don’t-do this.” His voice cracked, but you didn’t care, anger, rage and pain going through you.

“You cannot protect him now. This is for the sullys. For- my love.” Tears went down your cheeks as you remembered the last breath he took, the last time his heart beat.

He was gone. And now his killer is as well.

The knife that was covered in your blood, tight in your hold. “You don’t deserve mercy.”

“Guys?! Guys?!” Spider looks around frantically, ear piece smashed yet he still tried to get some kind of connection.

Thump!

Woosh Woosh Woosh…

The human flinched from the sound, head whipping back, only to see something he wished he didn’t. Spider looks up, eyes following the loud noise of the ikran wings. The one who dropped the vet off. But it was already gone in the distance, with no one on its back as it looked for its next victim.

“Sir?…” He called out, but he knew there wasn’t any use, there wasn’t any point in calling out to the man that didn’t raise him. He could see the arrow was ripped throughout his back, the rope bloodied. But he was still his father.

“Hey… Sir!” He yelled out, naked feet hitting the hot sand as he ran to the man.

Spider grunts as he turns the sky person over, only to see a knife through his head.

Part 2>>>>>>

#avatar quaritch #quaritch x reader #neteyam #neteyam x reader #avatar angst #avatar the way of water #avatar spoilers #spider sully #jake sully #jake sully x y/n

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antiodote · 2 years

Note

Hi ve please write something involving Harry’s hands. We need more Harry hand appreciation on here I think. Thank you!

hands of gold (18+)

“fuck, harry, you’re insane”

you tried to keep your moans to a minimum as harry was all over you, the thin walls of the bathroom stall doing nothing to help you.

“what, so you get to stare at me all night but i don’t get to have a taste? i don’t think so, angel”

you and harry had gone out for the night, something that you didn’t do often. truthfully, you and harry weren’t really the kinds of people to go clubbing, but since his friend just opened up a new club and had a grand opening to celebrate, neither of you really had it in you to say no.

so, you both threw on your most appropriate outfits and came with the intention of having a good time. that quickly proved to be a difficult task, though. for you, at least.

harry looked ridiculously good in all of his outfits. tonight, however, he looked delicious and you weren’t the only one to notice, unfortunately. clad in a casual, all black suit with trousers that fit his ass like a dream your mouth couldn’t help but water. his shirt that was only buttoned less than half way did nothing to quench your thirst, as well. in all honesty, you knew you’d have trouble behaving the moment you stepped out of the house with him.

as soon as you arrived at the club, people were all over him. his friends offered him drinks, women gave him pretty eyes and one guy even ruthlessly asked him for a fuck in one of the bathroom stalls, even with you standing right next to him. the normal reaction would be to get a little pissed, right? well, for you, that wasn’t the case. if anything, it only made you want him more. the worst part? he was well aware, therefore basking in the attention.

at some point you needed something to drown out the nasty thoughts in your mind, just until you got home, at least. so, you made your way to the bar, having lost harry a long time ago. as you sat down on one of the barstools, your phone was the first thing your hands found as a way to distract your mind but within minutes, an ice cold moscow mule appeared in front of you. confused, your eyes shoot upwards, ready to object, until you were stopped in your tracks when your boyfriends eyes immediately found your own. your boyfriend, who was standing behind the bar.

“hope it’s to your taste, princess” he shot you a wink that made you weak in the knees.

“what on earth are you doing behind the bar?”

his brows furrow. “that’s not what you say when your boyfriend makes you a drink, darling”

ah, right. it was that kind of night.

“i’m sorry, thank you.” you reply, clearly still confused.

in an instant, his face softens and his playfulness is on full display. “you’re welcome, baby”

you take a sip of your drink which, of course, was divine. it angered you how absolutely talented he was at everything he attempted.

“so? you’re playing bartender for the night, or?” you ask, wanting nothing more than to drown the entire glass with how he was staring at you.

“oh, tim had too much to drink and passed out somewhere in the back so i’m filling in until the other guy gets here.”

“oh, okay.”

in all honesty, you were hardly paying attention to what he was saying, as your eyes were glued on one thing in particular.

his hands. polishing a glass with a tea towel.

you’ve always been obsessed with his hands, ever since you first started dating. and not just because of what they were capable of, no, but also because they were just so damn pretty to look at.

the way his freshly manicured nails looked, the way his fingers were long and slender, the way they were huge and strong and how his rings made them look like something out of an art gallery. truly, everything about them was pure perfection and it turned you on to no end.

and harry was well aware.

“see something you like, honey?”

you snapped out of your thoughts and were met with his knowing gaze. he always knew what he did to you and you honestly didn’t have it in you to deny it. you still shake your head though, not wanting him to know just how much power he had over you.

“oh, really? because if i didn’t know any better you were checking out my hands just now, weren’t you?”

your eye contact never faltered as he spoke, and when you reply, “and what if i was?”, you wanted him to know that you were ready to play tonight. “it’s not like you’d do anything about it.”

harry’s smirk was evil. he wanted this, maybe even more than you did. he eyed you up and down, just as much as you did, all night. your teeny tiny dress did nothing to hide your figure in any way and harry’s mind had been running wild ever since you first put it on. he made a promise to himself to rip it off as soon as he got the chance. and as harry saw the second bartender walk up to the bar, he realised his chance came sooner than he expected.

“want me to do something about it, angel?”

you nod.

“words.”

“yes, please”

“good.”

thus, he walked around the bar and immediately up to you, ignoring how people were trying to chat him up. as soon as he stood next to you, he grabbed you by the hand and dragged you through the crowded club.

and now, here you were, with harry pressed up against you. his mouth explored your neck and your hands found purchase in his hair.

“what do you need, baby? let me give it to you.”

without missing a beat, you reply. “your hands, please”

“hmm” he moaned. “i love your manners, princess. makes me want to fuck you like you deserve.”

you moan in response, quickly putting your hand over your mouth to stifle your sounds. when his hands grabbed your ass and pulled your dress up, however, the task seemed to exponentially gain difficulty.

“god, your body drives me mad, angel. you’re unreal.”

harry’s praise made your brain go fuzzy in all the right ways. he knew just how to play with you and you loved it.

“harry, please. need your hands, your fingers. god!”

“hmm, you got it, love”

he removed your hand to kiss you feverishly, making sure to hike your dress up further to gain access. his tongue roams your lips while his hands rip your underwear at its seams. your gasp was swallowed by his mouth, keeping your noise level to a minimum. he knew you wouldn’t be able to keep quiet, so he took matters into his own hands.

with your hands now pinned above your head, he looks at you once again for confirmation that you wanted this. your blown out pupils told him that you did not want it, but you needed it.

then, he waited. and stared. and waited.

he was teasing you. and there was nothing you could do, except beg.

“harry, baby, please! need you so bad, you have no idea!” you whine, making harry’s cock stiffen in his trousers.

“what do you need, hmm?”

you swallowed your pride and gave him the only right answer.

“need your hands in my cunt. fuck me with your fingers, please!”

he looks at you in disarray. sometimes he couldn’t believe his luck.

“well, only because you asked so nicely, petal.”

all of a sudden, two of his fingers were in you, knuckles deep.

“oh, god, fuck!” you whine, loud enough for anyone to hear. to your surprise, harry didn’t seem to care or even be interested in making you quiet down. he enjoyed the show too much to make it stop. so, he continued.

his fingers moved expertly inside of you, in just the right way to make you come undone as quickly as possible. his skilled digits drilled inside of you and repeated a ‘come hither’ motion periodically, making you see stars. your g-spot immediately being stimulated, you felt overwhelmingly hot and horny. it shouldn’t take long for you to come like this.

your moans only got louder when he moved his thumb to graze your clit with a featherlight touch. his fingers spread your arousal like no tomorrow, making sure to get you nice and creamy for when he fucks his cock into you later. the copious amount of pressure in your lower belly made you throw your head back in pleasure, giving harry the perfect playground for love bites and bold licks of his tongue. he consumed all of your senses, and if he kept this up for much longer, you weren’t sure if your legs were going to give out or not.

“ah, harry! god, harry, harry, harry!”

“hmm, i know angel, i know.”

of course he knew. he knew how close you were, how desperately you needed him to make you cum. you just hoped you weren’t going to leave behind a mess that you’d have to clean up with ridiculously thin toilet paper.

when his fingers drilled into you more vigorously and his gaze didn’t leave yours again, you knew your orgasm was very, very close.

he saw it in the way your eyes were glossy and your gaze was cloudy. he knew he was going to make you cum and no matter how often he did it, it never failed to fuel his ego.

so, with a few more deep presses against your g-spot and flicks on your clit, the game was over.

“fuck, shit, agh! i’m gonna-“

“i know baby, cum f’me. come on.”

“ah, god, ahh!”

you held onto him for dear life, not trusting your legs to keep your bum off the nasty bathroom floor. he rode out your orgasm with you, fingers still deep inside of you, stimulating nerves you were never sure even existed. you kept getting hits of his cologne, deepening the pleasure in an ungodly form. and only when his hands, which were previously holding up your own, came up to your face to wipe away a few stray tears did you realise you were crying from the intensity of it all.

wordlessly, he looked at you for any signs of discomfort. when all you could offer was a facial expression of pure, unfiltered bliss and pleasure, he nodded and slowly removed his fingers from inside you. the emptiness made you feel cold, but only momentarily. the moment passed when harry, with no warning, brought his wet hand up to your mouth.

exchanging knowing glances you opened your mouth, ready to receive your treat. he slowly pushes his fingers inside your mouth, making sure to lay them flat on your tongue. out of muscle memory, you began licking and sucking them, properly cleaning them up. with your closed eyes you weren’t able to absorb the look of absolute pride and sheer arousal on his face, though you had a feeling he was enjoying this as much as you did.

about halfway through cleaning his fingers he pulled them out of your mouth. a pout almost made its way to your face but it stopped it in its tracks when suddenly, he began to suck the rest of your arousal from his own fingers, mimicking your previous actions. enamoured, you stare at him and the way his eyes rolled all the way back into his skull, not being able to wrap your head around how fucking attractive he was, especially right now.

the eye contact never falters, not before he is done cleaning his fingers. after a few more seconds he removes his fingers from his mouth, wiping the excess spit on his trousers. he then held your face with both of his hands and pulled you close for a deep, slow kiss. your head tipped back and you let him take the lead, enjoying the heady taste of your cum on both of your tongues. and when the kiss comes to an end, he removes his hands from you to get on his knees and pull your dress down. your underwear lands in the pocket of his blazer and you can do nothing but stare, even when he comes back up to stand on his feet.

his hands find your face again, a look of smug pride written all over his face. and when he lightly taps your right cheek with the palm of his hands, almost like he would pet a dog, you knew you had to go home and it had to be soon.

“atta girl. let’s go home, yeah?”

waaaay longer than anticipated but i got carried away lol enjoy !! thank you sm for requesting it <3

(lowercase intended, not proofread)

#antiodote #harry styles blurb #harry styles smut #harry styles concept #harry styles drabble #harry styles x you #harry styles one shot #harry styles au #harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfiction

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ashleytradpreggo · 4 days

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It isn't common that I have to take a bus or train early in the morning, especially now, but when I have it's a very good reminder of my place💖

We live in an area with a lot of Tradesmen, so early buses are usually all Men going to work their important jobs💙💙 When I'm sitting around them, with all their work clothes and heavy bags, and I'm in a dress that's bursting at the seams because I've got a huge baby Boy in my womb, I feel so weak in the knees, none of them could be as weak and vulnerable as a pregnant women like me if they tried 💖

They're all so strong, so big. They dominate any space just by existing!💙 If all the seats were taken and a Man asked me to move, even when I'm as pregnant as I am I'd do it in a heartbeat 🤰 They should all know just by looking at me that I'm a good woman 💖💖

So if you're a working Man, know that I love and support you!❤️ You keep the world going and manage to deal with us women well, being women! 😅

#pregnancy #pregnant #real men #anti feminism #anti feminist #men are superior #patriarchy #women are baby factories

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sammyboyimagines · 2 years

Text

stay gold

Pairing: Billy Hargrove x Plus-size!Reader

Summary: Even the strongest people can feel weak sometimes. And Billy will do anything to convince his plus-size girlfriend that she is not what everyone tells her she is. If he has to teach someone a lesson, so be it. 2k words

Warnings: mention of abuse, insecurities, mention of weight, fat-shaming (only a couple sentences), swearing.

//hi! I am so glad this was requested, I have been dying to do a Billy fic and I have also been dying to do a plus-size fic. As a plus-size woman, I am tired of seeing the insecure plus-size trope so I tried to emphasize that the reader is not always insecure because everyone has insecure moments! This is my first Billy fic so I'm really sorry if his demeanor is out of character! ALSO, I can do a part 2 with smut if anyone wants it? Maybe some rough stuff?

Billy always had an eye on you. Even when you weren't dating him, you found that his eyes were always glued to you. It wasn't sexual all the time. Once in a while, he'd catch himself staring at your round ass in your tight jeans as you walked in front of him in the hallway. It drove him crazy when he'd see you talking to a guy that wasn't him. But he mostly had his eyes glued to you so he could protect you. He knew you could handle yourself. A few times, he had watched you punch a guy square in the jaw because of a comment he made. It only made him like you more. You were never too insecure about your looks, and it drove him mad…with lust and love.

It took Billy a while to gather up some courage to finally ask you out. You figured it was a one-time thing since most guys in Hawkins weren't the most public about dating larger women. You didn't mind, of course, you had your eye on Billy for some time too. You admired how he cared for his sister. You'd talked to him before, but going on a date with him made you see a completely different version of Billy. He was caring and very charming, something he didn't really show other people. He even offered to pay for your meal.

Now, a year later, you were still going strong. Billy had been working on his family issues. It was your senior year, and you only had a few classes with Billy. Your short one-hour classes with him kept you going through the day. You had a few people teasing you in your other classes where Billy wasn't present. For the sake of the people teasing you, you decided not to tell Billy. If you told him, you knew he would go off on them.

It wasn't like you to hold anything back from him. Billy had secrets himself, so he immediately knew you were hiding something. "Sweetheart, something bothering you?" He was sitting next to you in science class. He held your hand, something he often did to ground you when you got lost in the swirling thoughts in your mind. He scoots his chair closer to you, his thigh touching your own large thigh. The image of your leg being larger than his made your heart drop in your chest. "It's nothing, Billy. Just a little worried about a test." you squeezed his hand and beamed at him. Billy knew you better than anyone. He places a hand on your knee.

"You know, you're a really bad liar." He smirks, his strong arms rotating your chair so you were facing him. The embarrassment of being caught in a lie made your face flush a little bit. You'd known Billy for a year, but his intense gaze was enough to make you squirm.

"I don't want you to get mad, okay? You have to promise me you won't explode." Billy knew you were insecure sometimes, and he tried every second of every day to make you feel like the gorgeous woman you truly were.

He also knew how upset you got when he couldn't control his anger. That's why he worked on it for months. He didn't lash out nearly as much. In his mind, he perceived you as an angel. You saved him from a bad place, saved him from himself. Without such a strong woman helping him take care of his anger issues, he'd be dead right now. Billy wasn't the best with words, so he showed his gratitude in many other ways. Mainly in the bedroom.

"I promise." he was lying, of course. He'd protect you at all costs. You were his girl. If that meant beating up some assholes in your honor, so be it. He knew you could handle yourself, but it never hurts to have some extra help, right?

"There's just some guys teasing me. I know you said that I should teach them a lesson, but have you seen me? I can barely give a class presentation!" he rolls his eyes and chuckles. "What, why are you laughing?" you didn't find the situation very funny at all.

"You're just so oblivious. Are you listening to yourself at all? I've seen you with people daily. What happened?" Billy knew you better than you knew yourself sometimes. "I don't know. Can we just drop it?" you knew what some people thought of you, and it hadn't affected you in the slightest. Until Billy was brought up.

"No, you know what? We're going to talk about this after school, okay? I want to make sure I don't have to hurt someone." Billy assumed this was about some asshole calling you something. He was thoroughly confused about why it affected you now.

He admired your strength, you knew your worth and it was his favorite part about you. Billy truly loved everything about you, including your confidence. Your body was just a bonus. He adored every part of your body, and he wasn't shy about showing you either. In any public setting, he'd always have a hand on you. Mostly because he loved the feeling of your soft plush skin in his hand, but also because it gave him a chance to let everyone else know you were his.

After school, you walked to Billy's car. It was cute how his eyes lit up as soon as you were in his field of vision. He finished his cigarette and pulled you closer, his large hands wrapping around your waist. Billy loved PDA, he was all for it. He pressed a kiss to your lips, the soft gesture made you practically melt in his grasp. "You ready to talk, sweetheart?" his voice was gentle as he leaned against his car.

"We're still at school. Can we go home?" Home was usually your house. Billy didn't like being around his parents, specifically his father, so your house was a spot for him to be himself. Your parents worked, so you had the whole house to yourself most of the time, which gave Billy plenty of time to have fun with you…

"Uh uh, we're talking right here so I can take care of the asshole who did this to you."

It truly hurt him to see you so broken. Even though he had only said it a few times, he loved you more than anything. He loved how strong you were, you were his rock when he was going through hard times. Billy didn't give a damn what you looked like. He loved your plush thighs pressed against him when he cuddled you, your soft stomach being a perfect spot for him to lay on while worshipping your stunning body.

"It was your friends, they said: she doesn't deserve Billy, she's a worthless pig next to him. He doesn't love her anyway." you were paraphrasing, but Billy still got the memo. You felt his hands detach from your waist. He was beyond furious.

"Give me names, baby. I'll take care of them. Y/n, I swear they are idiots. I don't want you to listen to a single thing they said, okay? You are gorgeous. I don't care about your weight. It doesn't matter." Billy tried to keep his composure. The anger boiling up inside him made it hard for him to think clearly sometimes.

Normally, you'd take care of this issue yourself. You'd slam their locker closed on their fingers, flip them off, etc. Billy understood that even the strongest people can feel weak sometimes. You'd helped him several times.

Like that time when he came to your after a fight with his father, he cried on your shoulder for an hour, unable to form the words "I love you". You held him for what seemed like hours, attempting to cover up the bruises forming from his father hitting him. You weren't expecting anything in return, and it made Billy feel like he had found the one. He always admired the fact that you were so kind to him when you didn't have to be. He never told you he had loved you that night, but when he showed up the next day with flowers and snacks…you got the message.

So, you gave him the names and before you could say anything else, he was walking back into the school, his fists balled up.

Billy wasn't the type of person to say "No, you're not fat, you're beautiful." because you were a bigger woman, and he absolutely adored you in every way. He'd rather adore you than try and sugarcoat it. He knew it was backhanded to say that phrase, because you were beautiful no matter what the number on the scale said. In fact, he threw away your scale ages ago, not that you used it much anyway. Billy was good at making you feel loved. It was like he knew exactly how to make you feel comfortable in your own skin.

The doors to the school burst open as Billy stormed out, his mullet hair slightly touseled from the assumed conflict. You knew better than to intervene when he got into his protective mood. It did feel good to get some kind of revenge, and Billy was more than eager to get revenge for you.

He stopped at your side, his fingers wrapping around the belt loops of your jeans. "It's been taken care of, sweetheart. Has anyone told you how good you look in these jeans?" He pulled your hips closer to his, your stomach pressed against his. "Listen to me, doll. I love you more than anything or anyone else in this damn town. Who cares what anyone else thinks of you or me? They're jealous that we're made for each other. You're so fucking perfect. Nobody in this town deserves you. Hell, I don't deserve you, sweetheart."

No matter what your conversation was about, you always knew one thing: Billy would never lie to you.

You could feel tears begging to spill over as Billy held your body close to his. You could feel the heat coming from his body. "I love your body, your thick thighs, your stomach.." he sighs. "I think about you all day- dream about being between those pretty thighs of yours." He pressed a kiss to your forehead, his cologne filling the air around you made you lean against him.

"The best part about you isn't your body. It's your smile, your personality. It makes my day. Don't listen to what anyone in this town says about you. They're assholes from a town full of losers. Once I save up some money, we'll leave Hawkins. I'll get a good job and we'll be out of this shithole. You are amazing, baby. Don't you ever forget it." He held the side of your face in his hand, his eyes scanning you for any sadness.

"Don't forget it or I'll have to remind you again." He slapped your ass and smirked when you let out a laugh. "What do you think, should we go home so I can show you what you deserve?" his hand pressed into your back in an attempt to pull you impossibly closer, giving him the perfect view of your boobs from his point of view.

"You know how I feel about this shirt, doll. Are you teasing me on purpose?" he whispered in your ear. You'd be lying if you said you didn't feel butterflies. Billy was very charming when he wanted to be. "Let's go home." you couldn't deny you wanted him.

//okay! done! I can do a part 2 with some smut if anyone wants it! I wanted to make the reader not be an insecure plus-size woman because there are so many of those out there, so I tried my best to imply that the reader is a strong confident lady. Plus size people, you are all beautiful and deserving of the best things in life.

#billy hargrove #stranger things #stranger things netflix #billy x reader #billy hargove x reader #billy hargove imagine #plussize reader #reader insert #billy hargrove x plus size

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imaslutforwritingshit · 8 months

Text

𝘽𝙤𝙧𝙣 𝙏𝙤 𝙆𝙞𝙡𝙡 ➫ 𝘼 𝙈𝙞𝙜𝙪𝙚𝙡 𝙊'𝙃𝙖𝙧𝙖 𝙍𝙤𝙢𝙖𝙣𝙘𝙚.

⚠️WARNING-SMUT+VIOLENCE. 16+

PART FOUR

CHAPTER 11- THE MYSTERY OF HOBART BROWN

The rest of the evening went by as a blinding rush.

I stood aside, and watched the man that I almost had sex with,

crumble.

It was less than 2 minutes before the team rushed in, fully suited up in Spider-Man clothing, ready to fight Reiner.

But the way Miguel's fist had implanted gruesomely in Reiner's once handsome face, made Jessica and Gwen sit aside and watch.

Miguel said nothing to me. He and Jessica used what were called "amno-chains," on Reiner, which were orange, and seemed to be made of pure light. They glowed on his skin, a warm light searing in the color of snow. He thrashed under the chains, his veins popping from his forearms in the effort. The chains pushed his body to the ground, making his knees the only thing supporting him.

I almost felt sorry for him.

When Miguel explained what happened, in a hushed tone to Jessica, she whirled around to see me, eyes wide and confused. I cringed.

Jessica hearing about my stupid, irrational plan to fuck the villain for information, felt like your favorite teacher being disappointed in you.

Gwen didn't look at me either. All three of them were hurdled in a circle, as if they were purposefully excluding me.

My face burned.

Not only of embarrassment, but of anger.

I knew that my plan would've worked.

Men act like women are toys in sex culture, but in reality, we are the puppeteer.

I could've destroyed Reiner, inside and out, emotionally and physically.

The connection of sex is the most powerful one humans can have.

And Miguel stopped me.

And had the nerve to call me a slut.

My face still burned now, but my gut was flipping inside out, because it burned of something else I didn't want to recognize.

Because I liked the fact that Miguel was angry.

It made me feel like maybe his anger was coming from a personal place- a place of wanting me, too.

And hearing him yell while my mouth was on Reiner- it had warmed my body.

I've never fucked a guy with a huge fetish, nothing weird, like feet or extreme bondage.

I had sex with 6 or 7 boyfriends, a couple even one-night stands. All were boring.

And yet I strangely craved that rush of power that I had, when I got down on my knees, but the look in the man's eyes showed me I was in control.

Having power was a drug, drenching my body in a haze of animalistic nature.

When I held the pleasure of a man, being the only source for his escape, I was invincible.

I was weakness, a weapon, a crumbling tower threatening to lean over and destroy everything.

I was power.

Nothing more,

Nothing less.

But I've never been a "good girl."

And if anything, today was proof of that.

As I stood in the dark corner of the laboratory, observing what I thought were my friends discussing on how I ruined their plan, I looked at Miguel.

His hands were by his hips, strong and firm, and his biceps seemed to be carved into his suit. He bit his lip in concentration, staring down at Gwen as she explained something quietly.

And it was like time stopped, when his eyes averted to mine, that heavy, potent feeling of his stare.

I felt nervousness, and a sudden aliveness shoot through me like I was plunged in cold caffeine.

But Miguel dropped his gaze again, and

my heart sank to the pit of my stomach.

I was here, in the dark of loneliness for too long. I can't stand it. Maybe that's my weakness- my inability to be by myself.

I strode over to Gwen as casually as possible, kicking my foot on the tile. "What's gonna happen?"

She doesn't look at me, but the shrug of her shoulders showed she heard me.

"To him?" She waved a dismissive hand to Reiner, chained on the floor. "We keep all the monsters underground." She turned to meet my gaze, eyes blazing with disappointment. "Where no one can touch them."

Hearing her address Mike as a monster, forced a twinge of pain on my heart.

I shook my head, looking away from her pointed expression. "I wouldn't. I thought that- maybe doing this would- I just thought-"

She cut me off. "You didn't think. Scarlett, you were gonna fuck the number one of enemy of the S.S. All because you're touch-deprived."

I scrunched my face in pain. "You didn't have to make it sound like that."

Gwen sighed audibly, and crossed her arms. "You need to find a good reason for all of this, and apologize to Miguel." She rubbed her fingers on the bridge of her nose. "He needs to trust you. What happened with Miles was bad enough, and frankly-" she swallowed harshly and stared at the empty wall of the science lab. "Frankly, I can't lose another friend. Okay?"

I bit down the dryness in my throat.

I was her friend.

The ice Reiner forced into me thawed at that word.

"Okay." My voice showed how unconvinced I was, and Gwen raised one eyebrow, licking a slice of her teeth under her lips.

"All right!" I forced my spine to straighten. "But I'm really fucking mad at him. And plus," I looked around the room and lowered my voice. "I know damn well everyone in the room is well aware on how fine Mike is."

Gwen's facial expression didn't change- that is, until she thought my eyes had averted to the door, and a grin crept over her face.

I was really grateful for her. The only reason I'm doing this for Miguel, is because Gwen wants me too, and she supplied me with too many favors for me not returning one back.

Gwen, Jessica, and Miguel ripped Reiner from the chains holding him to the ground, and Miguel snapped what looked like white handcuffs over each wrist.

I made a mental visual of him handling handcuffs. Don't ask me why.

"Let's go back!" Miguel had hollered, even if everyone was in the room, less than a couple feet away.

Almost everyone.

"Where's Hobie?" I blurted out.

To this, Miguel roars in frustration and drags Reiner across the floor with brute force. Gwen, across from me, gritted through her teeth,

"Hobie said that he wanted to stay. Said it's fun being a waiter."

I couldn't control the drop of my mouth. The way Hobie annoyed Miguel was always funny, but this was taking it to a new level.

"Wo-ow." I muttered, jumping through the portal at the same time Gwen did.

And when I looked down at my wrist, something strange met my eyes.

Where once was blank skin, a modern watch with a sticker, red and punk-like, gleaming on the side of the contraption, had found its way on my body.

I hasn't even adjusted my eyes to the surroundings of Miguel's headquarters, before I screamed-

"We need to go back!"

I felt Gwen's hand on my arm. "What do you mean?"

Desperation, fear, and horrible realization mixed in my bones.

I whispered, my voice trembling,

"Hobie gave me his watch. He's not coming back."

CHAPTER TWELVE- THE CONFESSION

I closed my eyes, and breathed in the scent of pine and oak. My hands rested softly on the rough bench I eat breakfast at, surrounded by the people I've grown to love most.

Faintly, the sound of people sitting down met my ears. A male voice cleared their throat, and as if the drag of my eyelids over my eyes was addictive, I drowsily looked over the table.

Only a couple weeks ago, I had sat here with all of my friends. Hobie. The only one who was missing was Hobie.

After yesterday, sleep betrayed me. My room was empty, only Gwen and I cracking open drinks that we as young adults definitely shouldn't have hands on.

The sound of a light accent, of taunting jokes and the sight of wide smiles, had simply vanished.

I wonder sometimes, what to do with love when no one's there to hold on to it.

What can I do for this place in my heart I've carved out for Hobie?

He had become one of the reasons I didn't cry myself to sleep anymore.

I sniffed, a whiff of hot dough meeting my nostrils. I stared down at the table.

Two donuts, glazed and chocolate, were on a clean white plate in front of me.

Despite the pain of recent events, a smile flicked on my face. I looked up, finding both Gwen and Pavitr glancing at me with nervous eyes.

I coughed, attempting to harden my voice. "Thank you." I dropped my eyes to the steaming pastries in front of me. "This is probably the best thing to wake up to. Besides you guys, of course."

Gwen smiled pitifully, and then frowned a little. "Oh! These aren't from us. Uh, Miguel had delivered them after...you know...last night. My guess is that he felt bad."

The event she was referring to was my frantic screaming, telling Miguel to go back to the Casanova.

Jessica had shook me by my shoulders, saying that backup and men so powerful I couldn't handle them, had filled the rooms by now.

I can't imagine what happened to Hobie.

In that moment, I fumbled with the watch, searching for any button that could activate a portal again.

I couldn't just lose a friend.

I couldn't lose anyone again.

Despite my efforts with the watch, Jessica snatched the technology off my hands.

And no amount of screaming convinced Jessica to get anything other than her way.

I managed to smile again. "Well, thanks for being here, I guess."

Pavitr beamed. "Scarlett, you are welcome to play volleyball with us later. Swinging and webbing is allowed!" He shook his fingers jazz hand style.

I licked my dry lips. "That's really...uh...sweet, but I think I need to be alone. Sort my feelings out and whatnot."

Pavitr nodded diligently, and stroked an invisible beard on his chin. "That's very important."

I grabbed the sweet plate in front of me, forcing my body off the bench. The warmth of the porcelain seeped to my fingers.

An olive branch.

Miguel had brought me breakfast.

When I waved at my two friends, my smile was real.

Because Miguel, the hard, cold, angry leader of a vigilante organization,

Had brought me donuts.

˚₊𓆩༺🕷༻𓆪₊˚

My legs were crossed patiently under my body. I stretched my hamstrings, relaxing my legs in front of me, and sighed. It's been about 10 minutes of me waiting for Miguel in the arena.

Normally, he's so punctual, you would've thought he had a stick up his ass.

But today he hadn't shown.

Was he really that mad at me? I pushed myself up, and dropped my gloves off my lap. As I untucked my large t-shirt, and began walking to the entrance of the arena, the door slammed open.

And there was the man I had too many dreams about.

There was the man I found myself fantasizing about too often.

There was the man, who had a body that spiked my heart rate into a thrum over my entire body.

There he was.

Fucking.

Shirtless.

"You're late." I whispered, small and sweet like a piece of candy I would beg for him to enjoy.

Miguel was wearing nothing but blue sweatpants, like that night I saw him for the first time. His face was set in a tight, skin freezing emotion of animal nature. His teeth were bared, fangs slicing harshly on top of his red lips.

And his body...

The lean muscle of his frame did little to distract me today. Cuts, bruises and dirt spread over his abdomen like abstract art.

And there were blood stains- that I was well aware weren't his.

He stormed to the side of the arena, and wrapped his hands in a beige gauze, dragging his veiny hands in the cloth with painful slowness.

I followed him, quickly grabbing his boxing equipment, but when I handed them to him, he slammed a hard blow over the red gloves, forcing them to the ground.

"I need to fight. Raw. I need a distraction." His voice was so low I had hardly heard it.

I wanted to drown. I wanted to drown and die and stay in that heavy, dark sound of his vocal chords vibrating down my spine.

All I could do was nod, and step back into the ring. Never in the month I've trained, had I been so nervous to spar with him. He seemed like he wasn't under control- like a beast ready to unleash.

He covered his face with his hands, boxing style, and the unreadable, foggy look in his eyes making my hands shake even more.

"Do I need gloves too?"

At this, he flashes an unexpected smile, evil and cold, which sunk to the very ends of my toes.

"No. I want you to take it raw, too."

The double meaning of his words made my jaw slide down, my mouth hanging stupidly. I snapped it shut and cleared my throat.

"Sure, I mean- sure." I unstrapped the gloves, and let them fall to the ground.

His eyes were trailing over my body, skimming each part like he was devouring me, like I was his last meal.

"Princess."

"Yes?" My voice was huskier than before. I didn't even evaluate the fact I answered to "princess" now.

"Why are you wearing so much clothing?" He dropped his eyes to the curve of my hips, slowly trailing his tongue over his lips. "It's gonna be too hard for you to fight.

Take something off."

I opened my mouth, but a sound that was half a whimper, half a protest, leaked from my tongue.

He began to walk closer, eyes locked on my body, until I was pressed up against the ring's borders. But unlike his usual pinning fiasco, Miguel pushed his entire body on mine, dragging his fingers on the rope behind me.

He breathed lowly, a rumble reverberating-breaking me into pieces.

"Or do you need me to help you?"

I dropped my head carefully, staring at his eyes instead of his chest. The contact between us made him groan, and he opened his mouth as if to say something, but the way our bodies were touching, his solid stomach rubbing on my ribs...

I was on fire.

My entire body burned with desire I had no idea existed.

I was fire, I was flame, and he was the match.

Miguel panted harshly, as if he was searching for air that didn't exist. He grazed his hand over my cheek, and bit down on his bottom lip, so hard that it looked like he was in pain. I groaned softly when he rocked his hips closer.

That I could feel something in his sweatpants. Something unusually hard, under the sheen fabric separating our bodies.

I gasped, swinging my hands to his shoulders. I wanted to tell him that we shouldn't, that I wanted to. That I hated him and wanted him.

That he was a paradox that confused me, and turned me on.

And yet all I could do in that horribly perfect moment was scrunch my eyebrows, breathing throughout my entire body.

Miguel sensed the shift in the air, and tentatively ripped his body off of mine, stepping backwards, one foot down, then another.

We were on separate sides of the ring.

The silence was thickening, and it forced me to come back to reality-

That we were close enough to kiss.

That we both wanted to.

And that we both hated that we wanted to.

"Miguel..." I whispered.

He chuckled without humor. "Ahh, mi zorra. I need you to stop saying my name like that." His head tilted up, the perfect locks of his hair falling over his eyes.

My eyes wandered to his body, and my cheeks flushed from the sight. I had to distract myself.

"Why...why are you cut up?"

He stepped closer, very obviously curling his fists. "I had a little chat with your boyfriend."

I was about to fire back a comment on the fact I didn't have a boyfriend, but the scarily sarcastic look in his eyes told me he was talking about something else.

"What did you do to him?" My eyes dropped, the vision of Reiner dead being too much for me to bear. I cared for him, and I had no idea why.

Miguel tensed his biceps, and clicked his tongue. "I did nothing. Or maybe you want to see for yourself?" He raised his eyebrow, only slightly, the look of sheer hate bleeding though his features.

I shook my head. "I don't want to see him. Not now."

"Oh." Miguel straightened his body, and dropped his hands to his hips. "Well maybe, you just need a difference frame of vision." He hummed lowly, and pierced his eyes through my own. "Maybe, you need to get on your knees to see things more clearly, right?"

A shoot of anger flooded my brain. "I knew what I was doing! You ruined my plan."

He sneered. "Sex was your plan? Zorra, I need to help you understand what I meant." His voice turned hard. "When I said mission, I didn't mean missionary."

"Forget it!" I yelled, pushing my body off the rope.

With a single hand, and annoying forearm strength, Miguel forced his large hand on my chest and pushed my back to the ring.

"We aren't done, Scar." His words were coming from gritted teeth.

I hissed, and slapped his hand, which didn't change anything. "I'm so very sorry, sir! Maybe I need to convince you another way. Since all I'm good for is sex, right, sir?" I dragged out the word with thick, mocking sensuality.

"Don't call me that." His eyes were stormy, and he clenched his jaw.

"Or what?" I dared, stepping closer. "What does saying that do to you?" I dropped my eyes to the rise of his chest.

"You know what." Miguel was gritting his teeth, hands gripping the rope as if it was holding him down.

"I don't." My eyelashes fluttered, and the innocence I feigned seemed to set Miguel over the edge.

An angry, strained sound came from his throat.

Miguel placed his hands on his dark hair, pacing the ring. The gauze on his palms were already peeling off his thick fingers.

His voice broke the quiet of the room.

"Stop doing this to me. You're acting like you aren't on my mind, every hour, every day, every goddamn night."

My heart lurched in my chest.

"What?" My voice slipped into a higher pitch.

He turned to face me, eyes so dark I could hardly tell the crimson from black.

"You know what." He repeated, this time raising his voice, a break of desperation coating his words.

I shattered.

Each shield I had once put up fell apart by the longing I had for him.

"No, I don't. You keep sending me this signals, then acting hot, and cold, and I have no idea what I even want anymore. But I think I want you, and it's driving me crazy, and I feel like you just see me as some weak kid you can tease, and I want you, Miguel. I want you so fucking bad it hurts me."

I sucked in air.

Shit.

Was that a bad idea?

Regret washed over my flushed face.

Miguel looked more different than I had ever seen. His lips were parted, fists loose. His eyes were larger than I thought was possible.

"Are you kidding me?" He shook his head in disbelief, and slammed his hands to his sides.

"Open your eyes already, Scarlett.

I want you."

He shook his head again, and locked eyes with mine- exhilaration breaking me from the very inside of my core.

"No, fuck that.

I crave you."

I backed up.

"Miguel... I-"

He put a hand up quickly. "Don't speak. Not right now. You understand how mad it made me-" he growled, talons poking out of his fingers. "To see you fucking around with that goddamn psychopath, Reiner?"

A familiar anger settled in my gut.

"I'm not fucking around with anyone."

He glared at me, and paced faster, running his hands through his hair.

"You know what I couldn't stop thinking last night, Scar? What you would have done to Reiner if I didn't stop you."

My breath lodged in my throat.

"I wondered," he continued, his voice hoarse, "if you would swallow after he came. If you would show him your throat filled with him." He growled at the last word.

My cheeks grew hot, and I shook my head, but Miguel wasn't looking.

"Or, maybe..." He softened his voice. "You would let him take you. Undress and bend over, and let him fill you up from the inside."

"Enough!" I growled, stepping away from him.

"Scarlett, I would treat you like a god. You understand me?" He brought his body so close to mine, we shared breath.

Miguel stared down at me. "And all I could think about was how Reiner saw you as a piece of meat. A fucktoy. A fucking dumpster."

"Fuck you." I breathed. White rage was pumping through my veins.

In a sudden movement, his thick arm snaked over my waist, pulling me to his chest. His warm skin was rubbing against the small of my back,

I felt like dying right there.

His naked upper body was so distracting, that I didn't notice how close he had got to my ear.

He made a low humming sound, slowly pressing his warm hips onto mine, and whispered-

"Gladly."

CHAPTER THIRTEEN- THE PUNISHMENT

"Wh-what?" My face turned at least 4 shades of red.

Miguel pushed his body onto mine, grinding his groin into my hips. I yelped from the impact and clutched the rope.

"You heard me. Mi zorra, I need it." He grabbed my upper thigh, and dragged his hand higher. "I need your body."

His voice sounded stripped, raw. His breath was harder than I've ever heard it, forcing sharp exhales on my neck. I shivered.

"Miguel-" My voice cut off when he grabbed my ass, two hands covering my body as if they were made to hold me. I whimpered, and pressed my sore nipples on the rope, desperate for some release he was edging me from.

"You gonna give that to me?" Miguel whispered, snaking his hands to my hips, and slowly rocking my small body on his.

"Scarlett." His voice had an edge of destruction to it, a melody of sexuality that I couldn't run away from.

All I wanted was this. I can feel my body filled to the brim with lust, as if my whole life was preparation for this moment.

I needed it too.

"Yes. Yes, yes..." A mix of a moan, and groan of pain came from my mouth as Miguel jerked my head back, his hand gripping my scalp, and he repeated the motion, forcing the sound to come out of my mouth again, as if he were desperate for my pleasure.

"God," Miguel hissed, grinding slowly, harder on my ass, and what was once hard, was rock solid against my body.

He grunted, grabbing my hips again, and forcing my body backwards on his crotch over and over. Each time our skin met, he growled, sliding his groin as far as possible past the barrier of my clothing.

And euphoria was picking up in the area between my legs. But it was too slow.

It wasn't enough.

"More," I panted, squeezing the rope until my knuckles turned white.

Miguel laughed, rough and deep. "Are you telling me to give you more?" He playfully pushed his body against mine in a lighter manner, which resulted in extreme sexual frustration on my end.

"Yes." My voice was a husky hiss, so low I couldn't recognize it came from me. "Give me...more." I rocked my hips on his in a circular motion, and he groaned, tightening his fingers around my ass.

"I'm the one giving orders around here." He growled, a voice raw with lust, and pushed my hips forward to stop moving on him, as if the only way he would have me was his way. I smirked, remembering the time that seemed so long ago- my fight for seducing Miguel.

I rose on my tip toes, letting my thighs rub against the tent in his pants. I opened my legs slightly, and began pushing my body on his dick, giving him a clothed thigh job. He breathed out, and talons emerged from his fingernails, now deeply pressing into my ass.

"But I want it so, so very bad, Mr. O'Hara." I dragged out my words, seduction rolling off each one of them.

My little act didn't please him, because the next thing I felt was the wrap of his strong fingers around my neck.

Hard enough to hurt,

gentle enough to let me breathe.

He panted in the small area of my collarbone, dropping his head to rest on my body.

I gasped on my own words, and rose powerless fingers to the hand choking me.

"How about you beg me, Princess?" He repositioned his body to begin pushing on me, stilling my hips on the rope. The area near my thighs was warm and wet, and I wasn't sure if Miguel's pressure was causing it, or my pure desire for the situation.

I wanted to slap him. And fuck him.

Maybe both at the same time.

Though the thought of begging for Miguel's body would haunt me for the rest of my life, I let my dignity fly out the window- just for this evening.

"Please." I rasped, pushing my shaking body on his hard one. "I...I'm so..."

My wet body was rocking uncontrollably on his, and he let out a rough moan, biting down on the skin of my neck. I yelped under the fingers surrounding my throat.

"What is it, Scarlett?" His voice was so low, the vibrations traveled up, and in, my entire body.

I couldn't say the words. I didn't even want to gesture the area between my legs, so I grasped his hand with mine, and guided the warm skin down my hips, to my inner thigh.

Miguel exhaled sharply, his fangs brushing on my tender skin. His long fingers began massaging the area between my legs, and I winced, arching my back and neck, pushing farther on him.

God, he was amazing at fingering too.

He slid his hand up, palm dancing on my clit, and he began tugging my shorts down my thighs. I didn't hesitate as I ripped them off, and with the effort, pushed against his crotch harder.

I let out a silent thank you to Gwen for giving me lace underwear.

Miguel groaned at the sight, and massaged the open skin of my ass. I whimpered, grabbing his neck from behind, with a shaking arm. He rubbed his hand harder, pleasure overriding my senses, and suddenly, a sharp whip of pain tingled on my skin.

He slapped my ass.

My face burned crimson, as hot as the area he just hit.

He dug his nails in the area that was probably forming to be a handprint on my skin, and slid two fingers under on the sheer lace covering me. My heart was beating so fast, I wondered how I hadn't passed out yet. I inhaled a deep breath to stay conscious for this.

Skillfully, Miguel played with my soaked clit, and dragged his fingers down, trailing cold fire on the skin he touched. His fingers slid into me, and because of the embarrassingly wet mess inside of me, it was an effortless motion.

Miguel sucked in a breath, and laughed softly, pushing his fingers as deep as possible- which mind you, was really fucking deep. "You really want me, don't you, zorra?"

I made a sound that was supposed to be a hum of encouragement, but ended up as a shaky moan, as his fingers pushed inside of my slick walls with supernatural force.

I realized how grateful I was that he retracted his claws.

His dick pulsed behind the thick layer of his sweatpants as he forced his fingers in again, the wet sound of him inside of me turning me on even more.

The throbbing pleasure was turning me lightheaded, each moan coming from my mouth getting louder, more frantic. I rocked my body on his fingers, and he slipped another inside, practically ripping me open.

I yelped as his fingers curved inside of me, hitting a spot of pleasure I never reached before. My veins were cold with ecstasy, and the only words I could hardly were a breathy whisper-

"I'm close."

At this, Miguel immediately halted, the only feeling left on my body was the twitching of his large cock behind me. A low grumble of a laugh emanated from his throat.

He made a small tsk sound. "Las zorras no pueden venir, Scarlett." He painfully pulled his fingers from inside of me, my wetness clinging to his fingers.

"What...does that mean?" I whispered weakly, holding my shivering body up with hands on the rope.

Miguel grabbed my hips and shoved me to the ground, where I landed on my knees. He stared at me, eyes dark and heavy, and gently put his hands on my head, his fingertips meeting my soft hair.

"It means I'm punishing you." Miguel slinked towards my face, his sweatpants rubbing against my cheek.

I tried to steady my breathing. Miguel was about to strip for me.

My attempt to conceal my excitement failed.

I pulled his sweatpants down instantaneously, and his black, clean boxers came to view with my face. He pushed his hand forward, knocking my head up. His teeth were bared in animal rage.

"I didn't tell you to undress me yet." He said through clenched teeth.

Miguel's desire for control, even during sex, was tipping me over the edge. I rubbed the throbbing lump in his underwear, well aware of the small leak of precum moist on my hands.

He shuddered, and butterflies re-emerged in my stomach, poking each part of my nerves.

"You're really desperate for cock in your mouth, huh?" He laughed, but I could hear the nervous twitch to the distinct rumble of his voice.

I dropped my hand. "I could stop." I blinked my eyes.

Miguel snarled, and the grip on my scalp tightened. "I fucking dare you to stop."

My cheeks burned, and I continued, with his order, to wrap my hands around his muscular hips, and drag the seam of his boxers down, past his hips, his pelvic bone, until they dropped all together by my knees.

Miguel's dick was quite literally, almost the size of my forearm.

"How-" I gaped. "How big is it?" My words flushed my face.

I hated how satisfaction smoothed over on Miguel's face. "Big enough for you take it."

He urged my face towards his insanely perfect dick, the nerves in my body tingling throughout every area I had a pulse.

At that moment, all my sanity, intellect, and self-will dissipated.

I opened my mouth, and Miguel pushed his hardness on my tongue.

He started slow, unlike Reiner, breathing a strong moan that broke me into pieces. I moved my tongue over his shaft, and his fingers trembled on my scalp.

"Good girl..." he groaned through clenched teeth, and bucked his head up, forcing his dick farther in my mouth.

I could hardly fit half of it in my mouth, the head of his cock hitting the back of my throat.

He filled me- my mouth,

my mind,

my heart.

I rocked my hips over my wet palm, my body practically screaming for release. The moan slipping through my mouth made a vibration on Miguel's dick, and he growled, shoving my mouth all the way on his body.

I was honestly surprised I could fit it all.

Forcing my body not to gag, I licked the new skin in my mouth, and Miguel moaned, shivering from my tongue.

Nothing could amount to this feeling.

I slid two fingers inside of me, twirling in the fluid tightness, as euphoria clung to the thick member using my mouth. A familiar rush of heightening pleasure drew further from the pit of my stomach, and I stopped working my tongue, tears filling my eyes. My hand became numb from the feeling, and when Miguel gazed down at the scene of wetness on the floor, he stared back at me.

I've never seen such dark lust before. He pulled his body out of my mouth, and I felt empty without the feeling of him touching the roof of my mouth. He grabbed my arms violently, and pinned them up. He seethed, a blush coating his cheekbones.

"No. You don't deserve that. Not now." He pushed me down, then dropped on the floor, crawling over my spread body. He grabbed my wrists again, and forced them on the ground above my head.

I whimpered, and rocked my empty hips in the air. "It hurts..." I didn't know what I was referring to- the strength of his body pushing me down, or the rip from pleasure he took away from me.

He laid over me, using one hand to find the bra under my shirt. I yelped as he harshly squeezed my body. "You have no idea what pain feels like. Maybe I should show you, huh? How about I show you what it's like to be stripped from pleasure, Scar."

"What do you-" I stifled a moan. "What do you mean?"

The slow smile I felt on my cheek made my beating heart go frantic. He pushed his entire body forward, until he shoved his dick in my mouth- like we were two animals fucking.

He had complete control.

Why did I like it so much?

He ground in my mouth, each push more shaky than the last. "Who's better? Huh?"

Miguel began rocking his hips in a frenzy, as I scrunched my eyebrows. His thick body was taking over my own, heavy groans slipping from his tongue. "You like my cock more than his, don't you."

My eyes widened as realization dawned on me. Was he really using this for revenge after Reiner?

I shook my head, not comprehending what the action did to him until anger settled on his words. "Stop fucking lying. Who's better? Tell me."

He slipped out of my mouth for a second to let me speak. "Answer me!"

He pushed his fingers in my body without warning, each thrust pulling me closer to coming. I gasped, searching for air that seemed to disappear in Miguel's presence. "Answer me." His teeth were grinding together, and the faraway look in his eyes drove me so wild, I did.

"You. You're better." I'll say anything, if it means he can give me that pleasure I crave.

He slipped his fingers out of me, and pushed his body again, up my chest until he settled his dick in my mouth again.

"Such a good girl..." he mumbled, words clipped in concentration. Each thrust was harder, and i felt his hands trembling on my own.

"I'm..." he groaned, warming my mouth with a stream of precum. "I'm close."

In hopes of matching our orgasms, I reached to my bare lower body, nestling my fingers in between my thighs again. The rock of his hips in my mouth matched the push of my fingers inside of me.

My body was pulsing with euphoria, and I shoved my fingers deeper, so close to orgasming I rolled my eyes to the back of my head.

Miguel growled, and rocked his hips shakily, slower than before. "That's it. Yeah. God," Miguel groaned, and pushed, on the brink of coming, and I rubbed my clit, the rise of pleasure jerking my hips.

But before we both climaxed, Miguel tore my hand away from my legs, and roared, bucking his hips roughly. His warm seed poured into the back off my throat, and with the last rock of my hips, Miguel ultimately ruined my orgasm.

Miguel held my chin up with a trembling finger, a silent warning to swallow.

I did, and the salty liquid slid down my throat.

I laid on the ground, shaking my unfulfilled body, and Miguel tore away from me, panting for breath. He rolled to his side, holding his body up with his elbow and hand, the muscular shape of his back facing me looked like deadly art.

Like the fallen angel in paintings.

He stood up without looking at me, and pulled his clothing back on, throwing the boxing equipment to the side.

I sheepishly followed along, putting my clothing back on, but confusion, and most of all, frustration rang in my eardrums.

Why didn't he let me finish too?

He began walking towards the entry way, and I raced after him.

"Wait!"

I touched his shoulder, and he halted, still not looking at me.

"Why the hell..." My voice was steel. "Did you stop me from...you know..."

Miguel looked over his shoulder, and flashed a mouthful of white teeth and fangs.

"I told you I was gonna punish you for what you did with Reiner.

I just didn't say how."

And he opened the metal door, slamming it on me- closing me in the room.

"Las zorras no pueden venir." ╰┈➤

INDIRECT DEFINITION ╭──╯ . . . . .

"Sluts aren't allowed to cum."

That’s it for right now. Feedback and suggestions are welcome!:>

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flowerandblood · 8 months

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I see you still don't see my point and keep twisting my words to show your brainless fans how great you are because you are afraid they'll see who you really are. The truth is you won't feel the need to write your fantasies about reader being dominated by masculine and violent aemond if your husband was satisfying for you. We all know why Stephanie Meyer or E.L.James started to write their wish fulfillment fantasy. They weren't able to get something great from men in their life so they created naive, helpless and stupid characters to try to experience something this way. I've got a huge list of how your readers imitate bella and/or anastasia so you could live your dream of being dominated in bed and manipulated this way. If it turns you on, fine. As if the only way to get a men is to be obedient good girl. Well I'll tell you a secret, you don't need to offer yourself on golden tray to have him on his knees. But majority of women just like to be weak, play the victim and just be passive, lying in bed accepting things. Patriarchy is still strong. And one of your answers proved that I am right. "In my opinion, a woman who "fights and opposes in such times" will simply be punched in the face, because who is she in relation to her husband? I approach it logically, not with dreams of what it might have been like if feminism had existed back then. I don't think this makes my characters weak - they try to cope with what they have." Darling, fighting and opposing in such times doesn't have one face. I've never said lady B has to fight with aemond with sword. i meant feminine way. how do you think women get their power, like Anne Boleyn, Hürrem Sultan, Elizabeth Woodville? They weren't known for their beauty. However they possessed only 1 thing beauty will never replace - intelligence. If they were stupid they'd never be anything more than baby machines and sex toys. But they were smart, used all they had and achieved more than any of thousands poor distressed nobodys. They show determination, resilience and self reliance which allowed them gain something in very patriarchal society. They understood men's games and beat them at their own misogynistic games. That's why there are so many films, tv shows or books about Anne Boleyn and zero about Jane Seymour and her uninteresting story of serving men, her lord and king. And I am afraid that's what Alys will do with Aemond once she will got her claws in him. Good for her. I hope you'll be enjoying her ruling with her pussy. Maybe take a note from her. Lady B fighting with Aemond with swords it's pointless, she would lose anyway. I mean at this point, after 50 chapters, I think you purposely keep lady B in place of no growth. She doesn't know how much power is between her legs, she hasn't learned anything about aemond (if she had learned she would have manipulated him, but this is too complicated for her poor brain) and men in general (despite being close to her father and brother) and at this point I think she's just being intentionally dumb. Feminism didn't exist back then but if you think writing about a character with Stockholm syndrome and martyr syndrom makes her or this story great you are mistaken. There is no honour in just existing, bearing things, being manipulated and lied to and then you try to tell readers it's liberating. Darling, I see you encountered abusive and terrible men throughout your lifetime who made you believe such things but another secret from me: women are able to gain nearly anything if only they learn men have always had problem with women they couldn't control. You know I really pity you, men in your life must've hurt you a lot so you decide to write a story which message is: just accept it, even if he emotionally abused you you should be thanking him. You just show how you perpetuate patriarchy in simplest way possible. Accept scrumbs from men's tables, beg for their attention and you won't be neither loved nor respected. But you don't seem to mind at all, so there's no difference for you in there.

I can't believe you devoted half an hour of your life to write such bullshit, feeling like Plato, thinking that you sound smart and can make ma sad. I'm impressed. I didn't read even half of this gibberish, I thought you were an unfulfilled woman after you started writing about my sex life and relationship with my husband.

Next anon from you and I will block you, so this is our farewell post my love 💐💐💐💐

I love how you humiliated yourself with this message and how you showed the level of your criticism

#i start to like it

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darsynia · 1 year

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Nat and Steve romance pls!

I enjoyed this, thanks for the request! Requests are still open!

Summary: Steve Rogers' mom had loved stories about romance, especially between two people who saw each other as equals. Pre-serum, fulfilling his mother's wish had seemed a hopeless ideal, and post-serum, equally so. Until he met Natasha.

Length/Warnings: 820 words, no warnings

Equals

Steve’s mom had loved romance novels. Her favorites had always been the ones where a secretary falls for her boss, or a nurse for her patient, but he could remember her complaining: ‘Where are the stories where they’re equals, Stevie? I want to read about them being equals!’

He’d never forgotten, had held that hope in the back of his head like a talisman, but Steve had never expected his romantic life to bring her wish to fruition. He was weak, puny, overlooked. Women wanted someone who could provide for them, who could stand up for them-- and then suddenly, he’d overshot the mark. ‘This Hero Has No Equal!’ one article had crowed.

No equal.

Steve came out of the ice, but it took him awhile to thaw. Once he did, he handled the task of adjusting to modern life, of warming up fairly well, in every way but one. He was… distracted by Natasha Romanoff.

Yes, by her beauty at first, but once he got used to how luminous she always seemed to be, Steve never ‘got used to’ her competency. It always floored him, how Nat was strong in ways he’d never be able to master, lithe when it counted, clever always. Her quick wit and sharp strategic mind left him alternatively in stitches and in awe, and falling for her was so easy he was almost embarrassed it took him so long to realize that’s what he’d done.

He didn’t intend to tell her, of course. That would be an overstep, and if Steve couldn’t be her partner, at least he could be her protector, someone she could count on to see her as-- oh.

An equal.

A couple weeks after that realization, Steve found himself being shoved up against the wall during a sparring session with Natasha. She’d taken him off guard, which was fair. He was still coming to grips with… everything.

“Out with it,” she said, her smaller frame no less threatening or deadly as she held a static weapon bristling with energy at his throat.

“Lunch didn’t agree with me?”

Natasha pushed the weapon closer. If he so much as swallowed hard, it would sting him. “What else?”

He felt completely out of his depth. “Your, ah, uniform shirt is unzipped more than normal,” he admitted. It was the truth, and he’d caught himself staring more than once so far.

Natasha’s smile was feral. “True. And?”

He moved swiftly and without warning, darting sideways and catching her waist with one hand to spin her off-balance. As usual, Nat rolled with the movement and turned it to her advantage, shooting out a kick that stole away his breath for a few seconds. He was fast enough to trap her kicking leg in both hands, yanking her forward into his body.

She should have tried to escape.

She should have pressed her advantage.

Natasha did neither. Instead, she leaped at him, and instinct led Steve to catch her weight at her ass and her back, one leg falling behind to brace the two of them so he didn’t tip over.

“And?” she repeated, one leg on either side of him, a steady hand brushing back his sweaty hair from his forehead.

There was no way his feelings weren’t written all over his face, Steve realized as he looked at her unblinking, green-eyed expression. She’d tricked him into showing her, meaning that she’d figured him out.

The best he could do was hope she felt honored, instead of offended. He’d wanted to be different than other men, for her. He’d wanted to be her equal.

“How long have you known?” Steve asked, entranced, impressed, imprisoned.

“Kiss me and find out,” she suggested archly-- and oh. Oh.

Natasha Romanoff kissed like time was running out, like no one was watching, like she couldn’t get enough. Steve sank to his knees in self-defense, needing to touch her, to ground the two of them with his hands cradling her face, tangled in her hair. His heart hadn’t pounded like this when he’d jumped from an airplane, and when their lips parted enough to catch a breath, he told her exactly that.

“Mine either,” she said, taking his hand from her cheek and pressing it against her too-low zipper, so he could feel for himself.

“So, you’re saying--” he started to say, needing reassurance, but Natasha stopped him with a quick kiss, then drew back.

“I’ve wanted to jump from the airplane before,” she said, a shadow crossing her face for a split second before she refocused on his face, and smiled. “With you, I’m not worried about how we land.”

He pulled her close, unable not to, and as he kissed her hair, her forehead, and her tear-wet cheek on his way to her lips, Steve realized that she could either mean they’d never land, or that she wasn’t worried about the fall.

He was equally happy with either.

#steve rogers x natasha romanoff #romanogers #steve rogers #natasha romanoff #steve x natasha #steve rogers fanfiction #natasha romanoff fanfiction #marvel fanfiction #mcu fanfiction #steve rogers romance #natasha romanoff romance #blurb week

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galatially · 1 year

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❝𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐮 𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝❞

𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 / 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 / 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲

𝐈: 𝐬𝐢𝐭𝐮𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 — 𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐤 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐬 x 𝐛𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 — 𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐎𝐑𝐒 𝐃𝐍𝐈, 𝟏𝟖+, strong language, fingering (f receiving)

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 — just for tonight, let me be someone else. someone larger than life and impervious to pain like the pain he gave me; what's a few drinks and a chance encounter with a familiar stranger to a heartbroken girl?

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 — 1.3K

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 — i was rereading this and got nostalgic so here y'all go lol

The bass thrummed through your veins.

Tequila and whiskey emboldened you as you swayed your hips in time to the beat, your hands high above your head. You felt the stares from the men and women around you, basking in them.

Tonight, you transcended.

Beneath the red and blue lights, you were a different person. You weren't the girl that found her boyfriend screwing another girl on your living room couch. You weren’t heartbroken and you weren’t angry. No, in the heart of the dance floor, curls wild and free, Y/N Y/L/N was invincible.

An ethereal being amongst humans.

You felt a presence behind you, hands finding yours hips. Warm air tickled the shell of your ear. “What’s a sweet thing like you doin’ dancin’ alone?”

A breathy giggle bubbled from your lips, one of your hands reaching behind to cup a broad shoulder. “I’m not ‘lone. You’re here.” You ground your ass against the front of his jeans, the skirt of your skintight dress cresting above your hips. His cologne made your head spin and your belly flip.

His teeth caught your earlobe. “Keep grindin’ like that and I’ll take you right here. People be damned.”

The warning sent a delicious shudder up your spine. “Promise?”

His chuckle rumbled low in his chest, reverberating against your back. Lips trailed the curve of your neck and hands held you firm against the growing tent nestled between your barely covered ass. “That turn you on, baby girl?” Teeth nipped at your sensitive skin. “You want me to fuck you in front of all of these people? Ruin this pretty pussy?”

A thick digit wedged between your thighs, playing at the soaked thong clinging to your lower lips. A strained groan left his mouth.

“You’re soaked, baby. That all for me?”

Your breath caught. When the last time someone turned you on like this? Had anyone ever turned you on like this? You bucked your hips back against his hand, soft mewls tumbling from your plump lips.

“Want me to fuck you with my fingers, pretty girl?” He pushed the fabric to the side and pushed three digits into your sopping cunt. The strangled moan lodged in your throat was guttural, almost pained. He wrapped his free arm around your front and held you firm against his chest. “Be cool, baby girl. Wouldn’t want the whole club knowin’ I’m knuckles deep inside you.”

You tucked her bottom lip between your teeth and gave a weak nod. Your skin was on fire and you could feel your nipples stiffen. “Fuck.”

He worked you slow, his thrusts slow and tortuous, stretching you out deliciously. Your first orgasm slammed into you and made your knees buckle.

You put a hand against his chest. “Wait, wait. We need to stop.”

“You sure?” He removed his fingers, leaving you hollow. “We could take this somewhere private, if you want.”

The invitation was tempting. Damn near irresistible, even. You could be this girl for tonight and in the morning, you’d turn back into a pumpkin. No longer the enigmatic princess in the wild, but the pauper that had to figure who she was again.

Who were you now that everything you knew was a lie?

You turned to face your sexy stranger, your features canting into confusion.

“Erik?”

His brown eyes widened. “Y/N?”

Even through post-orgasm hazy eyes, Erik Stevens looked like a god, as if deities bore him from sculpted clay. You went to the same university, shared some Gen Ed classes your freshman and sophomore year. Sometimes you even struck up conversations about classes. His reputation as a love ‘em and leave ‘em type far preceded him, but, at least with you, he was smart and sweet and funny.

Besides, you were already spoken for at the time. But it didn’t mean that you never noticed him.

Your face warmed and canted into a frown. “Fuck.” You pulled down the hem of your dress and pulled a fallen strap back up your shoulder before turning on your heel. If you weren’t sober before, you sure as hell were now.

“Y/N! Wait!”

You cut through the crowd, quickly dodging curious drunken glances as you hurried to the bar. You put a hand up to signal to the bartender, Scott.

He tipped his chin and leaned over the edge of the bar, yelling over the booming bass. “You okay, sweetheart?”

“Yeah,” you answered, nodding. “Can you cash me out and grab my stuff for me?”

Scott gave you a thumbs up and disappeared to the other end of the bar. Before you could look over your shoulder for Erik’s tall frame, the bartender reappeared, your items in tow.

You slammed down a few notes and threw him a two finger salute.

“Whoa, whoa, Y/N! Everything okay?”

You hoped the smile you gave was convincing enough as you hurried out of the club. The cool breeze kissed your cheeks, carrying the loose curls framing your face in its wake. Tears burned in your eyes, your chest heaving painfully. “Fuck!”

Of course.

Of fucking course!

Of all the people you could’ve rebounded with, it just had to be Erik, one of your ex’s friends.

Your mind raced with questions: did he know the girl Theo was with? Was she around when you weren’t, draped over his lap while he hung out with his boys?

Were you really the last person to know?

You pulled out your phone and started requesting an Uber.

NOTIFICATION: Your driver, Amelia, will be arriving at 1:45 AM

“Y/N!”

You held in a groan, not sparing him a glance as you spoke. “Nope. We’re not doing this.”

“So I’m just supposed to pretend nothin’ happened in there?” His hand curled around your bicep. “Look at me.”

You snatched your arm out of his grip and turned to face him. The quick movement made your world tilt and your legs buckled. Where you expected to be intimately introduced with the asphalt, you felt a warm mass against your shoulder. You took in a deep breath and looked to Erik, your face warm. “Thank you.”

He nodded and helped steady you. “You gon’ stop runnin’ now?”

“Erik, we can’t do this.”

“Why?”

“You know why,” you deadpanned. “Theo’s your friend.”

Erik tightened his jaw.

You crossed your arms and turned away from him. “Just forget what happened. Please.”

“Can I wait with you until your ride gets here, at least?”

You lifted a shoulder and kept your gaze on the street. You anxiously glanced down at your smartwatch for notifications, debating whether you should’ve called your friends to come get you instead.

“I’m not his friend.”

You blinked and turned to him, startled by the sudden conversation. “What?”

“Theo,” Erik clarified, “I’m not his friend. More like a friend of one of his other friends.”

You looked over at him. “Why are you telling me this?”’

“Because you’re actin’ like I knew what he was doin’.”

NOTIFICATION:Your driver, Amelia, is pulling up now. You will have five minutes before Uber charges you a waiting fee

“I don’t care if you did or didn’t know about Theo cheating on me, Erik. I don’t care if y’all are friends. The fact that we almost — ” You blew out a breath. “You’re an adult, Erik. We both are. So whatever we do or don’t do shouldn’t concern the other.”

“I’m just sayin’ that — ”

A black Sedan pulled up in front of the both of you, cutting off his words.

You glanced at Erik over your shoulder. “Thanks for hanging back with me.”

He nodded, a tight smile on his lips. “Get home safe, yeah?”

You nodded and ducked into the back driver’s side seat. As the driver pulled off from the curb, you stole one last glance of Erik standing on the sidewalk.

“He a friend of yours, ma’am?”

“No. Just someone that I know.”

𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 — to date, the beginning of this fic is the most out of pocket i've ever been and i'm proud of that lol

#galatially #want u around #want u around series #situations #erik stevens #erik stevens x black!reader #killmonger #killmonger x black!reader #college!au

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